#lbr I'm always ready

[honeyhotteoks]

always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date. 

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either. 

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers. 

You just wish you never told Mingyu. 

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid. 

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure. 

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you. 

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it. 

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile. 

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth. 

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought. 

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you. 

You do fast math, panic math. 

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home. 

Your stomach churns. 

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you. 

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain. 

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this. 

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots. 

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call. 

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing. 

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride. 

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box. 

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone. 

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,” 

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?” 

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?” 

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop. 

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys. 

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops. 

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,” 

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” 

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,” 

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming. 

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first. 

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress. 

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care. 

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless. 

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.  

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately. 

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. 

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse. 

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill. 

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air. 

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather. 

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way. 

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?” 

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,” 

He blinks, “y/n,” 

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,” 

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality. 

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you. 

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,” 

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position. 

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.  

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?” 

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red. 

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I know,” 

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.” 

Oh. 

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,” 

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words. 

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,” 

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact. 

“I know,” You sigh. 

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?” 

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,” 

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish. 

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,” 

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.” 

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,” 

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait. 

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory. 

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,” 

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone. 

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,” 

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little. 

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,” 

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road. 

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,” 

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile. 

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,” 

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,” 

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?” 

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,” 

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave. 

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,” 

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in. 

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain. 

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.” 

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?” 

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,” 

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,” 

“I know,” You breathe. 

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?” 

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,” 

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,” 

 “I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,” 

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,” 

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?” 

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.” 

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly. 

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,” 

His hand tightens on yours. 

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,” 

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour. 

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you. 

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,” 

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,” 

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.” 

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,” 

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green. 

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,” 

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty. 

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,” 

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?” 

“Shut up,” He sighs. 

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?” 

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,” 

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,” 

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,” 

He grimaces, “Ugh,” 

“Exactly,” 

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,” 

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal. 

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?” 

“You want to come up?” 

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol. 

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times. 

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,” 

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here. 

“So,” He clears his throat lightly. 

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,” 

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride. 

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding. 

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go. 

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,” 

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands. 

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps. 

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,” 

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,” 

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,” 

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?” 

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,” 

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom. 

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself. 

But then he laughs again. 

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?” 

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf. 

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,” 

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign. 

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile. 

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,” 

He nods, “I remember,” 

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,” 

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,” 

“Mm,” You laugh. 

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee. 

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise. 

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’” 

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,” 

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,” 

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little. 

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,” 

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,” 

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?” 

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,” 

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you. 

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,” 

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back. 

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue. 

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.” 

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,” 

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” 

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee. 

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question. 

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods. 

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”  

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash. 

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,” 

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply. 

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning. 

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it. 

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him. 

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least. 

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, ���Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” 

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,” 

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,” 

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,” 

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has. 

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours. 

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist. 

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?” 

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird. 

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?” 

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in. 

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,” 

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you. 

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,” 

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,” 

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw. 

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,” 

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already. 

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants. 

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss. 

“God,” He shivers. 

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,” 

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away. 

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,” 

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,” 

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back. 

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,” 

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth. 

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart. 

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms. 

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip. 

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?” 

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small. 

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,” 

“Okay,” 

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?” 

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards. 

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.” 

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,” 

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze. 

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,” 

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?” 

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,” 

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,” 

“Yeah,” 

“And you wanted me?” 

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,” 

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,” 

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,” 

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity. 

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,” 

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out. 

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,” 

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat. 

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,” 

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders. 

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,” 

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,” 

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again. 

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,” 

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,” 

“Baby?” 

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,” 

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley. 

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,” 

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?” 

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,” 

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you. 

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,” 

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?” 

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?” 

“Please,” You whisper. 

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric. 

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess. 

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,” 

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else. 

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,” 

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,” 

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,” 

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises. 

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,” 

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again. 

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction. 

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently. 

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,” 

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,” 

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

  “Can I eat you out?” 

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,” 

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you. 

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you. 

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,” 

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze. 

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,” 

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile. 

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” 

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly. 

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,” 

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly. 

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,” 

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?” 

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam. 

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip. 

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this. 

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.  

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little. 

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,” 

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?” 

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high. 

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?” 

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” You kiss him back. 

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast. 

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,” 

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,” 

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?” 

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,” 

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?” 

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,” 

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,” 

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,” 

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,” 

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth. 

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,” 

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,” 

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. 

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you. 

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,” 

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,” 

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts. 

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap. 

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,” 

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,” 

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder. 

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit. 

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,” 

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,” 

Everything you are is trembling in his hands. 

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,” 

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin. 

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,” 

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open. 

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,” 

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,” 

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,” 

He sighs, “This pussy,” 

“Cheol,” You blush hard. 

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,” 

“Anything?” 

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.” 

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?” 

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,” 

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,” 

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench. 

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen. 

You want him inside you so badly you could cry. 

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his. 

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder. 

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs. 

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,” 

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,” 

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,” 

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?” 

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder. 

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?” 

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand. 

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,” 

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls. 

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper. 

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,” 

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,” 

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

Your muscles clench down around his fingers. 

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?” 

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,” 

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?” 

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again. 

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,” 

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you. 

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz. 

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again. 

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you. 

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams. 

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go. 

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease. 

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms. 

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,” 

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?” 

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,” 

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?” 

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone. 

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,” 

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him. 

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,” 

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock. 

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,” 

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him. 

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,” 

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him. 

He nods, just a little. 

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,” 

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers. 

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this. 

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,” 

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?” 

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,” 

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs. 

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel. 

“y/n,” He pants tightly. 

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down. 

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,” 

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early. 

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,” 

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,” 

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again. 

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips. 

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest. 

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,” 

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,” 

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards. 

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,” 

Your eyes slam shut. 

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,” 

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming. 

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”  

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,” 

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

  “So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss. 

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,” 

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm. 

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,” 

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you. 

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,” 

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together. 

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move. 

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,” 

You laugh against him, “Next time?” 

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,” 

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,” 

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,” 

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly. 

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,” 

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,” 

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,” 

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,” 

“Good,” He sighs. 

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,” 

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,” 

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs. 

Maybe you could rally. 

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,” 

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,” 

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing. 

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed. 

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. 

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine. 

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads. 

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,” 

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest. 

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake. 

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention. 

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,” 

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,” 

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,” 

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,” 

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,” 

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups. 

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,” 

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,” 

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?” 

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest. 

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,” 

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog. 

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel. 

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,” 

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks. 

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,” 

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,” 

“You what,” You blink. 

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,” 

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go. 

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,” 

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side. 

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue. 

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,” 

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you. 

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,” 

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap. 

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,” 

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?” 

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,” 

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand. 

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,” 

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,” 

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch. 

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #seventeen ff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt ff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups fic #scoups smut #scoups ff #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff

[soleilnomoon]

Prompt: “I don’t like them; I can barely tolerate them.” for Abarai Renji. Once again, I leave it up to you what you wanna do (but maybe enemies to lovers) Yes, I might be on a little Bleach binge right now but it's okay you like it. kiss kiss

*hides face* ok, ok, ok, hear me out, let's pretend i didn't take *insert accurate length of time here* and say i wrote this in a few days. i am so sorry i took forever and ever with this but as u know i can only give u top quality work or else i'll never forgive myself. renji is.......well *motions to him* yk how that man is, he made me suffer!!!! in a good way!!! but still i suffered!!! yk how much i love enemies 2 lovers u big brained beauty 🤭 so ty baby❤️️ also this is my first renji fic and i can't belev it.

5.2k words (don't look at me, just don't), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, enemies 2 lovers, angst city, angst angst city biiiitch (yk the vibez babey), smut obviously, no fluff bc who do u think i am? feat. renji being a mean petty bitch (i guess that makes him a mean dom maybe yes), sub reader bc that's what i want; there's a party with alcohol, ichigo and co. make brief appearances, bathroom sex, choking (he's sf romantic), a lot of cursing bc they're grown that's why, renji is a beast when he's jealous, reader is a lil bit of a brat but lbr who wouldn't be in that situation; mutual ""unrequited"" pining, lots of tension, fingering, rough (consensual) sex, lil bit of degradation, lil bit of a size kink, lil bit of praise kink, idk there's probably more stuff but i'm so tired rn i can't think; um renji obviously comes w his own gd warning; reader is determined to not let this man win but, hello, it's renji he always comes out on top wink wink. (if u see spelling errors/mistakes no u didn't hottie)

“when i write about all of this it becomes its own kind of violence. / i retell the story as myth, as if it were my own body devoured.” — caitlin scarano & “so much of love is violence. the desire / to be split open, invaded, mangled / and made new.” — erin slaughter

HATRED X TASTES X SWEET

you’ve never been cut out for this line of work, but your insistence on eliminating all your shortcomings is commendable. brave, even. it’s something you don’t really think about unless you want to spend the night half-drunk, rambling about the things you should’ve done but never had the courage to do.

like telling a certain red-haired, bullheaded lieutenant that he’s the most ridiculous and excessively arrogant man you’ve ever come across. all in all, you’re pretty sure telling him off won’t phase him; nothing ever does, not really anyway.

at first you try politeness; your grandmother would be proud of how well you’ve learned to bite your tongue. it’s ungraceful, but you fake it well enough that others think your emotional maturity is far above theirs. little do they know, you actually have to literally bite your tongue; simply remaining silent isn’t easy for you anymore. so, when you bite, it’s with rage, months of unshed tears and accumulated spite; you bite your tongue so hard you bleed more every time.

your unsaid words bunch together — tiny soldiers determined to strike in unison without fail — and sit heavily in the back of your throat, ready to launch forward at your command.

but you never say them, and you choke more than once; an unbearable shame to carry with you as he continues to slash at your patience, thin ribbons cascading off you like confetti. you wonder if your anger will lead to your death— or if it’ll lead to his. you intend to keep all of that hidden, though, and keep reminding yourself that eventually he will tire from berating you, from talking to you as if you’re the most incompetent being in all of soul society, from looking at you like your very being disgusts him.

that’s what you tell yourself these days. you like to conveniently ignore the way his dark eyes linger on yours during meetings — you’ve noticed that people have taken to describing them as soulless, cold and critical, unimpressed at everything and anyone.

but you see him — all of him; the raw, feral, powerful and severe side that not many have the misfortune of knowing. they think they get the real version of renji whenever they deal with him, but they never do; you know that now. you doubt it’s even intentional on his part, or maybe — just maybe — he really does hate you.

to put it plainly, as you’ve told rukia and rangiku, the sixth division lieutenant has the biggest fucking chip on his shoulder. despite the walls he continues to put up to keep others from carving out a place for themselves in his life, despite the way his words roll around his mouth, clumsily coasting down the length of his tongue before they pierce the air around you with their toxicity — you’re tired of the way he purposely singles you out time and time again to point out your inadequacies without remorse.

abarai renji is also sick of dealing with you. whenever he thinks he’s found a means of scaring you off, you scurry right back more determined and more obnoxious than ever. which is rich, coming from him.

he claims you’re inconsequential, a nuisance — a pest, even — one that he intends to get rid of permanently. it’s harsh and he’s more than aware of that, but he finds that this is the most appropriate solution to his problem. he could easily ignore you; he could try to keep his comments to himself and try to be somewhat cordial whenever you cross paths. but he won’t. and he has no damn idea why.

“no, no come in, i have plenty of snacks for everyone.”

rukia’s voice is a constant in his life that he’ll always be thankful for. he watches her glide into the room, grinning at the friends she’s invited over, her laughter like soft bells that is easily recognizable even with all the conversation happening. when he feels his chest constrict, an uncomfortable, yet familiar warmth stretching over his skin, he decides to drink so that he can ignore the sensation and forget.

a feeble attempt, because he knows how this will all end — with him drunk off his ass in an even worse mood than he started.

mouth opening, renji prepares to tell rukia to get better sake, when rangiku leads you into the living room where he’s lounging comfortably. the bottle in his hand grows heavier by the second and suddenly he’s not very interested in drinking anymore. already, his foul mood from earlier returns, and every step you take only fuels his irritation; it bubbles underneath his skin, making him frown and grip the bottle tighter.

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s glaring at you — he always is. rangiku feigns obliviousness as she encourages you to go make yourself comfortable while she fetches snacks with rukia. you stare at both of them, wide-eyed, confused — a pleading look sliding onto your face after a few moments, but they assure you both that they’ll be back shortly.

with a sigh you sit on the armchair adjacent to him, determined to just remain quiet in the hopes that he’ll just ignore you for once. sitting up straight, discomfort finds its way to the pit of your stomach, swirling around as you fidget with the bracelet around your wrist. his eyes watch your movements with an obsessiveness that startles him; there’s no reason why he should be interested in the shape of your fingers, there’s no reason why he should be interested in the way you keep brushing stray curls away from your face, and there’s no reason why he should be interested in possibly fucking you when he knows for a fact that he is absolutely uninterested in you.

his disinterest runs so deep it spoils the taste of the sake, but he takes another swig anyway. the alcohol burns as it travels swiftly down his throat, and it just so happens that you glance over at him — innocuous, an attempt to gauge his annoyance level — as his throat bobs and your mouth dries at the sight.

you turn your face away quickly, a traitorous flush crawling slowly along your skin, unjustly warming your cheeks. inhaling deeply, you do your best to will the blush away to no avail. where the hell are rukia and rangiku? surely it can’t take that long to grab snacks. you’re tempted to go find them, but you have a sinking feeling that it would turn you into a coward.

and you refuse to give that man any more ammo against you.

IT’S X (NOT) X YOU

what initially starts as a small get-together, quickly turns into a party; leave it to rangiku to liven things up, her laughter infectious and whimsical, flitting about like a persistent hummingbird as she encourages everyone to play drinking games with her. experience taught him better than to engage because despite his high tolerance, there’s really no beating rangiku when she’s on a roll.

but when you emphatically agree to play with the rest, fury rises in his chest; your audacity, it seems, knows no bounds — and, yes, he understands the hypocrisy in his critique. he just doesn’t care.

the games are every bit as simple and ridiculous as you thought they’d be, but as everyone seems to be in relatively good spirits, you play along. not normally competitive with things like this, you get into the swing of things when you win round after round.

cheers resound nearby at your success, but throughout the evening, you feel renji’s stare and do everything in your power to not give in and look back at him. a tough feat to say the least, as you are always acutely aware of his presence; and when you do happen to sneak another glance, his legs are spread and you curse under your breath for finding that attractive.

foolish, you chide, so fucking foolish.

renji sucks his teeth as he feels a heaviness in his head; groaning loudly he swirls around what little sake he has left in his glass before finishing it.

“you lose again,” rukia’s voice is soft and teasing, but he’s annoyed and can’t be bothered with talking to her right now. she pats his shoulder gingerly before standing up to head to the kitchen. his mind is a mess and he blames you for it completely.

“i don’t fucking care,” he says gruffly to her retreating figure, not bothering to elevate his voice as he’s sure she heard him. and he really doesn’t care; he’s trying to tell himself to calm down, but he can’t.

the fault completely lies with you — of course it does, everything you do agitates every cell in his body. the reason is simple, and he hates that he doesn’t want to admit it — he’s so undeniably attracted to you that it pisses him off. he takes in your appearance for the twelfth time that night, admiring the softness of your cheeks, the fullness of your lips, the way you seem entirely too animated as you laugh at someone’s lame joke — and yes, he can tell it’s not funny from how your laughter dies down after a few seconds.

if he had better sense, he’d stop looking at you, but he can’t now; he might blame the sake for this later.

the intensity behind his gaze is enough to bring an inextinguishable heat along your skin. it’s only unpleasant because it travels down to your lower abdomen and brings about an agonizing ache between your thighs. at first, you do the sensible thing and ignore it; but the longer he stares, the more you want to look over, until finally you can’t take it anymore.

“i’ll be back,” you mumble to the other guests, although you doubt they hear you with how rowdy everyone is being; the noise isn’t unwelcomed, the distraction serves to mask your footsteps when you scurry from the living room to the back corridor, turning corner after corner until you find the bathroom.

a coward — that’s what you are.

you barricade yourself in there without thinking, heart pounding loud enough to disorient you. after several long minutes, you splash water on your face and take a few deep breaths.

“i can’t believe i ran away,” your voice is so soft you barely hear the words — almost as if you’re still in disbelief over the entire situation. there’s something off about renji tonight; the tension between you was more palatable and tangible than normal.

even though you feigned nonchalance as best as you could, there were so many moments where you couldn’t help but watch him too. pitiful. absolutely pitiful. there’s no excuse for it, and yet you struggle to find one anyway.

as you look at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you try to convince yourself to head back out there. sooner or later, people will realize that you’ve gone missing — and rangiku is nosy enough and like a bloodhound when she’s drunk. your time is incredibly limited now.

there’s no reason for you to continue to avoid the inevitable, so you sigh and give yourself a small pep talk before heading back outside.

TRUTH X OR X …

renji’s mood doesn’t improve at all; in fact, it worsens the moment ichigo sits right next to him. he’s not even sure why this sets him off, but even closing his eyes and counting backwards does nothing to keep him calm.

with slight difficulty, renji grits out, “what do you want?”

undeterred, ichigo stares at renji pointedly, voice steady as he says, “you could go after her, you know.”

again, renji sucks his teeth loudly, arms folded against his chest, right leg bouncing slightly as he taps his foot on the floor. punching ichigo would be pointless, and then rukia would get involved and he doesn’t have time to deal with the fallout from that so he keeps his hands to himself.

besides, his anger is obviously misdirected right now. he knows — he knows —but he doesn’t care, so he doesn’t mince his words when he responds with, “go after who?” through his peripheral, he can see ichigo’s patience has also reached its limit.

“you’re not that stupid, so stop acting like it.”

normally, renji would take the opportunity to mes s around and argue back and forth, but he might actually fight his friend if he doesn’t walk away. so, he does; abrupt and without looking back, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.

maybe he just needs to change his approach with you, maybe talking things out would work in his favor; or maybe he needs to fuck you hard enough to purge you from his mind.

he lies to himself when he considers the first option, because it’s the second option that drives him to walk a little faster, head full of impossible thoughts as he wonders just how far you’d let him go.

when renji finally finds you, you’re in the middle of rebuffing the advances of an unfamiliar guest — they’re drunk, handsy, and keep oscillating between giving you cheesy pick-up lines and berating you for rejecting them. but you stand firm, and your voice is relatively loud when you tell them, “for the last fucking time, go away.”

under normal circumstances, renji would let you handle this yourself; he has no desire to play prince charming or be a knight in shining armor. you’re more than capable, and he’s seen the way you fight and argue to defend yourself — but, it’s when they place a wandering hand on your hip that he loses sight of all of that.

a brief moment passes, where your blood boils as you contemplate how best to kick their ass, but you never get the chance. a rather large shadow hovers over you both, but you already know who it is without having to look properly.

renji is a force to be reckoned with on a good day, but he’s at his fucking limit right now.

he doesn’t ask, doesn’t give any options for retreat, doesn’t say a word when he yanks them off with a brute strength that surprises even you.

now, can he really be blamed for throwing them into the neighboring wall hard enough to make a noticeable hole? and is it really his fault that the drunk can hardly walk as they clutch their broken arm while murmuring something unintelligible, something that renji takes as a sign of them wanting a repeat demonstration?

consequences be damned, he gives the drunk a lethal look before they scramble away in fear.

“loser,” he says loud enough for them to hear, but they don’t double back or even try to go toe-to-toe with the hot-headed lieutenant. you watch, half-amused and half-impressed with the unnecessary machismo, but still, you know better than to chastise him right now, especially when your heart sputters out of control from his proximity.

“…thanks,” you say, a faint flush on your cheeks, voice soft, head fuzzy when you realize that renji — aka mr. “i’ll fight you on everything any day of the week unprovoked for no reason other than to drive you crazy” — saved you. unprompted at that.

you make the mistake of looking up at him, your nerves prompting you to take a small step back when you realize that the usual hostility that renji reserves for you specifically is nowhere to be found. in its place is something more unreadable — or, rather, you don’t want to read into it for fear of being wrong.

renji steps closer, which makes you back up again until your back hits the wall and you’re no longer able to escape.

“we need to talk,” he says suddenly, but you shake your head, non-verbally objecting to the idea, curls bouncing wildly with your exaggerated movements. since he knows he’s pressed for time, he grabs your face with his large hand and stops you from moving. “that wasn’t a request.”

swallowing rusty nails would be better than dealing with your conflicting feelings over renji right now, because he’s much too close to you and now you’re forgetting why it is you hate him in the first place. ironically, he’s in the exact same position. so far, he’s acted on impulse over you more times than he can count tonight, but he supposes that’s to be expected — you are a wildcard, after all.

“what if i don’t want to.” your response is clumsy, the words tumbling one after the other. “what if i want you to leave?” you don’t actually mean that, but you throw it at him anyway, to see if maybe this was all a fluke, and maybe, just maybe he’ll remember himself and you both can go back to fighting like usual.

he considers your question, goes so far as to release your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. your sharp inhale and parted lips tell him all he needs to know.

with a slightly raised brow, he asks, “well, do you?”

because if you do, he’ll walk away right now. but he knows what your answer will be, he just has to drag it out of you. he squeezes your neck to remind you to hurry it up, and before you can answer him properly, he places his leg in between yours, pressing close enough that you roll your hips forward while whimpering softly.

he really didn’t think any of this through, but luckily the adrenaline from it all won’t wear off anytime soon, so he’ll improvise along the way. he spent most of the night dealing with a semi-hard cock that wouldn’t listen to reason no matter how many times he tried to stop thinking about you. but now? all of that restraint goes out of the window, and before he can question it, he kisses you.

you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life — some good, most were mediocre and uninspiring — but renji actually takes your breath away. everything about him commands all your attention; from the way his lips move against yours greedily, leaving behind burning kisses that make your nipples harden underneath your clothes — to the way he thrusts his tongue in between your plush lips, licking inside of your mouth hotly, igniting an inextinguishable flame deep inside of you.

he grabs your hip with his free hand, squeezing hard, fingers digging firmly. all the irritation from earlier dissipates completely, leaving you feeling lightheaded and needy; you grind against him recklessly, arousal dampening the front of your panties, clit sensitive as it rubs against the delicate fabric. his cock presses against you — thick, long, and hard — and you wonder if this is why he’s so angry with you all the time.

was it always that simple?

if you asked the question aloud, he wouldn’t know what to tell you — it’s a combination of things, but mostly he’s an idiot; he knows that now, but likewise you’re an idiot too. you just don’t realize it yet.

it’s renji who pulls away first, lightly panting, breath warm against your lips as he releases his hold on your neck. he doesn’t know where he finds the strength to string together a coherent statement, but his voice is low and husky when he speaks. “answer my question.”

you blink at him, completely in a daze, lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “wh-what?” you don’t remember what he asked you, and you don’t care.

“do you want me to leave?”

for some reason, you completely forgot that you told him that. you rub your lips together and run your hands along his chest. “no.” the answer comes out automatically, without hesitation, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

“good.”

SAY X IT X LOUDER

he picks you up with ease, almost as if you weigh nothing; a small squeal spills out of you as you wrap your legs around his waist, and renji gives you a sly smile — one laced with mischief and an unspoken promise of what’s to come.

you’re back in the bathroom again, this time sitting on the counter with renji standing in between your legs. his hands coast along your curvy hips and down your thighs. he’s touching you but he’s not touching you and it’s driving you crazy.

with hurried, eager hands you both undress, and for the umpteenth time you internally curse this style of uniform; still, it doesn’t take too long before his hands are on you again, calloused palms rough and warm against your skin. he places a kiss on your jaw, then another on your neck right underneath your earlobe; each kiss he leaves behind distorts your common sense, makes you feel irrational and impatient. your hands are soft and well-practiced, stroking his stiff cock as his hips jerk forward from your touch.

he can’t remember the last time someone had him this worked up, which pisses him off a little; because that means him fucking you once won’t settle things. at that thought, renji bites your neck and your startled yelp quickly morphs into a moan when he runs his tongue along the mark. he dips his hand in between your thighs, rubbing his thick fingers against your slit. a loud banging on the door has you looking over, and you can’t remember if he bothered to lock it once you both were inside.

your attention nearly falters, but when he pinches your clit you buck your hips, a shiver shooting down your spine at the slight pain.

“eyes on me,” is all he says, seemingly annoyed that you would dare to focus your attention elsewhere, “always keep them on me.” what he means by that, he doesn’t know, but you take the command at face value and nod while swallowing. he slides a finger inside of your wet pussy, and while you initially wanted to keep quiet to avoid suspicion and to prevent anyone from intruding, but you can’t now.

“renji,” you breathe, fingers trembling as you hold onto the counter for support, he thrusts his finger in and out, quick and hard, before inserting another. you clench around him, hips rocking forward as he fingerfucks you and grinds his palm against your clit. you close your eyes and moan louder than you mean to, chest heaving, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. he scissors his fingers inside of you, but quickly removes them without prompting.

“fuck!” you open your eyes again and stare at him in disbelief. “why did you stop?”

he laughs darkly and grabs your face roughly, fingers pressing into your soft skin without remorse. “what did i tell you earlier?” everything about this situation is laughable. he gave you very specific instructions, ones he thought were easy enough for you to follow. for some reason your movements are sluggish, mind in a haze as you scramble to remember but nothing comes to mind.

as you open and close your mouth, looking every bit as adorable as you are alluring, he decides to show you a bit of kindness.

“get down.” his command comes swift, his patience practically nonexistent; precum glides down the head of his thick cock, but he ignores it for the sake of teaching you a lesson. you don’t bother waiting for him to repeat himself and slide off the counter. “turn around.”

like a doll, your movements are dictated by renji with simple, short statements. nothing about that phases you, though; it’s all very exciting, so when you do turn to face the counter, you bend forward and lean over the counter. renji admires the roundness of your ass and slaps it hard.

again, you find yourself moaning loudly, without shame and not caring about the volume of your voice. surely the others won’t pay attention, as they’re still very drunk and are entertaining themselves with more games. another slap on your ass has you grabbing onto the counter again, legs shaking, arousal dripping between your thighs in anticipation. if renji doesn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

he knows he’s taking too damn long, but it’s much more interesting making you work for him. he rubs the tip of his cock against your puffy pussy, gliding it in between your slick folds, your moans sweetly wrapping around him once he pushes inside of you slowly. someone bangs on the door again, making you look over, anxiety quickly filling your head with unnecessary what ifs that almost command your full attention.

with narrowed eyes, renji grabs onto your hair, curls soft in his hand, and yanks hard.

“the fuck did i say earlier?”

goosebumps travel down your arms as a different kind of awareness and clarity surges through you quickly. you blink at your reflection, watching the way he towers over you, his muscles hard and defined — sculpted from years of training and dedication to honing his skills. it hits you then, what he’s really asking you.

“to,” you swallow thickly, throat dry, “to keep my eyes on you always.” you say it all in one breath, gasping when he runs his tongue along the curve of your ear. you don’t know how much more you can take, but you know if you complain, if you say anything he might stop altogether.

renji’s smile is wicked and dark, his lips graze your earlobe, voice deep and gravelly, a huskiness that wasn’t there before as he thrusts into you, burying his cock deeply.

“good girl.”

he refrains from kissing you properly, instead pushing you down so you can lean over the counter again. your mind melts from it all, and you’re panting, heart beating faster and faster as he firmly places a hand on your back.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” he remarks thoughtfully, although you note the slight strain in his voice; as much as he tries to act like he’s not that affected by you, you know that isn’t the case at all. your pussy is every bit as enticing and heavenly as he knew it would be; he pulls back and slams his cock into you all over again, filling you completely. you try to keep watching him in the mirror, but he’s fucking you like he’s angry with himself for being so attracted to you.

and he absolutely is. it’s a truth he fought against for so long that he’s given up on denying it now. your moans drip onto his skin like caramel, sticky and sweet, and when you say his name like that — your voice going higher and higher from the ferocity of his thrusts — he nearly loses his mind.

“fuck,” he says out loud, grabbing your hip roughly, your wetness coating the length of his cock, “you’re taking me so well.” he knows you can’t really answer him, and he likes that; you’re beyond caring at this point, instead focusing on the way his cock reaches a spot that has you bouncing your ass and fucking yourself against him. normally, renji would play around and edge you in retaliation, but he’s too far gone, completely under the spell of your pretty pussy, with how soft and tight it is.

you’re not sure how you got here, but you’re drowning in ecstasy right now. he instructs you to lift your leg to rest it onto the counter, pulling out momentarily to help you position and spread your legs further apart. he plunges his cock into you again, keeping his hips closer as he gives you shorter, frenzied thrusts. your head spins and you can’t think straight, but that doesn’t matter. all you care about is the way renji is angling his hips, rolling them forward to pound into your cunt roughly, balls heavy as they smack against your ass.

“oh, oh, oh.” you swear your life flashes before your eyes, because something possesses him, his strokes shorter, brutal, and frenetic. drool slides down your chin, your voice hoarse from how loud you’ve been. you’re sure someone’s heard you by now, but you don’t care.

how can you?

with renji fucking you like this — merciless and possessive, fingers brusing your skin, almost as if he wants to make sure you’ll be as obsessed with him as he is with you — your common decency, your morals, everything that makes you you, they don’t exist.

all that’s left is this burning desire to let him have his way with you for as long as he wants. thankfully, you have enough sense to not admit that out loud; who knows what kind smugness you’ll be subjected to if renji knew.

but you’re pretty damn transparent about it, he can tell from the way you can’t stop clenching your pussy around his cock, from how your pussy makes loud, lewd squelching noises — ones that he’ll commit to memory so he can revisit them from time to time.

tears roll down your cheeks and you sob as you hold onto the counter as best as you can, back arching, hips rocking against him with a neediness you never knew you had. there’s a tightening in your stomach and your pulse skyrocketing as a flash of white practically blinds you. he watches the way your pussy keeps swallowing the length of his cock, and you finally fall over the edge, orgasm suffocating you with its intensity.

your cunt flutters around him, gummy walls soft and hypnotic, an addiction he never thought he’d have; breathing heavily, his muscles tense and renji groans something that suspiciously sounds like your name. the thought alone makes your face burn and warms your chest in a way that doesn’t make sense. and when he finally cums, he humps into you, cum thick and hot as it spills inside your pussy, mixing with your slick wetness. a completely messy affair, but he doesn’t care — it’s not his bathroom, after all.

legs trembling, you’re limp and incapable of movement, whimpering and whining until he finally pulls out of you.

renji runs a hand down his face, feeling spent but more than satisfied. suddenly his shoulders aren’t so tight and tense, and his mood is much more tolerable. you do your best to stand but almost fall — your legs are useless, turned to jelly because of the man behind you. he chuckles at that, then clears his throat once he realizes. he fully expected there to be a moment of awkwardness after, but it never comes. when he sees your face — lips bruised and swollen, face flushed, eyes glazed with a faraway look — he feels compelled to kiss you again. so, he does. it’s not sweet, nor is it tender, but it still makes your heart swell all the same. he holds you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, doing your best to keep standing, even though your legs are ready to give out.

you don’t know exactly what any of this means, but you do understand him a bit better now. he’s terrible with expressing himself, but you kind of like that about him; and maybe this isn’t the healthiest relationship, but life was uncertain and you’d take renji fucking you like it’s his last day alive over him openly hating you any day.

#it is done!!!! finally!!! i survived sora #fic request #bleach angst #bleach smut #bleach x reader #bleach x y/n #abarai renji x reader #abarai renji x y/n #abarai renji angst #abarai renji smut #renji x reader #renji x y/n #renji smut #renji angst #‘i can change him’ 🥴 #pls no i can't be SERIOUS #y/n continues to be braver than any u.s. marine #y/n sippin that clown girl juice over this man and ykw? me too. #my man my man my man ✧ 𓂃𓄹՞ഒ #anyway ily sora i had fun writing this i hope u have fun aka suffer reading

[im-no-jedi]

What's your favorite thing(s) about Hunter?

ANON

A N O N

DO YOU REALIZE THE BOX YOU'VE JUST OPENED????

hope you're ready for an essay cause here it comes LOL *cracks knuckles*

let's start with his relatability. I've been extremely vocal about how much I personally relate to Hunter, in pretty much every way aside from being a man and a soldier haha. I always enjoy characters I can relate to the most, and there's no competition when it comes to me and Hunter. he and I are one and the same 💙

in that same vein, I like that we get to see a good portrayal not just of a leader, but an oldest sibling. we oldest siblings are often the natural "leaders" to our younger siblings, and I like that we see that in Hunter. this is where the "dad" side of him comes out cause that's an unfortunate side effect of being an oldest sibling; you become the surrogate parent 😬

AND SPEAKING OF BEING A PARENT... I absolutely fell in love with him due to his relationship with Omega. to see an edgy, brooding, frat boy-esque man who's lived his entire life training as a soldier becoming an actual dad???? MORE LIKE MY ACTUAL DREAM MAN 😍😍😍

also, lbr... the man is BEYOND sexy. he has that rugged handsomeness that only compares to iconic legends like Aragorn from LotR. he's absolutely gorgeous. like drop dead in the middle of the street swooning gorgeous. I'm an absolute sucker for a guy who can work long hair, and he works it good. even the face tattoo is sexy to me, idc what anyone else says. also, ALSO. HIS VOICE???? HELLO????? Dee Bradley Baker came for me personally when he came up with Hunter's voice like fr 🥵🥵🥵

another thing I have to mention cause it's apparently a topic of discourse within the fandom is... he's not perfect. he's very much a flawed character, much like the rest of them. and to me, that's what makes him such a good character. it's realistic. it's messy. and it's fun to watch.

I could go on... I seriously could... he's 100% the man of my dreams (literally LOL) and I'll forever love everything about him 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#if I had a better attention span I probably could write an actual essay ROFL #but this will do for now✨ #my dark and broody bandana man #star warz #anonymous #ask

[sanctus-ingenium]

answering your asks in one big post because you sent so many of them (update: added 2 more that just got sent)

hi guys. what the fuck

in plain text so i don't have to type out a million image IDs

Anonymous asked: "I am obsessed with your metal beasts and lore!! The designs are *chef's kiss* gorgeous and inspired and if you were to ever make print versions of the kinda diagram-like side view pieces of them I'd slap that stuff all over my walls ❤️❤️"

Answer: I'd have to pretty them up a LOT to get them print ready. But I think it would be cool to do a blueprint style version kind of like old diagrams of machinery with additional embellishments

like this (source)

Anonymous asked: "have you ever posted any art of the dragons you've mentioned before? im really curious ab them"

Answer: I've posted sketches. I have trouble drawing diagrams because I am STILL torn between radial and bilateral symmetry... i know it should be radial but in my heart I prefer bilateral. So I'm thinking maybe it is radial but with a pseudo-bilateral look. It's definitely on my to-draw list

Anonymous asked: "just wanna pop in and say i love all your worldbuilding its so creative and fun, but as a dragon lover i ESPECIALLY adore your weird and funky dragons. i think its so cool when people push the boundaries on what a dragon can be (that versatility is a big part of their appeal to me in the first place) and your take is one of the most fun ive seen in a while"

Answer: as a marine biologist, I-

the dragons came after the beasts. I wanted to give them a reason for existing and 'knights fighting dragons' evokes such a great retro fantasy vibe that i loved it. The reason Pantera is a leopard (and not any other kind of big cat) is because in medieval bestiaries, leopards were said to fight dragons using their 'sweet breath'. You can see where I went with it. But dragons in these bestiaries have such variable appearances and can be virtually anything, like you said they're so versatile. For the people in this setting, the most they ever really see of dragons are the legs, tendrils, and the massive beak (which is mineralised like the pen of a squid). It's a creature really too big to comprehend, so they depict it in their diagrams as a bird-headed creature with wings and a back end made of serpents. but you can always tell in these illustrations whether the artist has actually seen a dragon in person.. because they won't draw it like this:

@our-tiny-hotel asked: "where did you get the idea/inspiration for these stories?"

Answer: for mez, i like zoids, retro fantasy, speculative biology, and stories which explore themes of religion and its role in highly gendered systems of oppression (lbr it is fantasy catholicism. that's right... this is also a story about gender)

for inver: fairies man

Anonymous asked: "is nosewyse a dog? i cant find anything about it on your blog"

Answer: You can find Nosewyse here. He's the smallest Holy Beast and by far the most pathetic

@raskies456 asked: "Re: your tags on the Taurus art, how DO the smiths manufacture such massive single plates of metal?"

Answer: I'm going to draw some diagrams to explain but basically the theocratic empire sits on a massive wealth of iron ore so there's no shortage of it. Smiths can manipulate metallic elements using the dialogue tattoos on their palms - Mercury and Mars are the titles for enginesmiths and armoursmiths respectively. Enginesmiths use mercury because it doesn't interact with incandescent dragonsblood, and it's a liquid metal which in alchemical theory is Pure and extremely close to gold (free of sin u might say). The quicksilver is used to manipulate the insides of a working engine without having to physically touch it. Armoursmiths work on iron, but here's the issue: solid metal won't budge. It needs to be softened or liquid for the dialogues to have any effect. So the armoursmith teams are blacksmiths who heat up these mass amounts of iron using dragonsblood furnaces until the iron is malleable, and then in teams of 50 or more they slowly and painstakingly stretch and shape it into the desired form. that's how they make armour plating for Holy Beasts. The use of dialogue tattoos isn't like psychic telekinesis, but more like playing an instrument where the position of each finger has to be perfectly accurate in 3D space to produce the desired effect. it's a very physical job and incredibly skilled. Taurus's barge took decades to construct and thousands of workers.

Anonymous asked: "are you ever going to publish the book are you are writing"

Answer: maybe. the idea of traditional publishing doesn't appeal to me. might just be a "buy this pdf on itch.io" sort of deal

Anonymous asked: "Hi, im new here. I hope this isn't rude, but from what i can tell the gist here is that medieval people dug up what i can only assume are the still-living skeletons of otherworldly beings or perhaps demons and went "Wouldn't it be cool if we put flamethrowers in these guys and rode them to war" and then they do that thanks to jellyfish ooze from giant violent sky jellyfish?"

Answer: I can neither confirm nor deny (yes but also nooot quite ;))

Anonymous asked: "Jowd you learn how to draw machines? Is it hard to draw all the Bits on those mechazords in the correct place when theyre like jumping and run ing and shit?"

Answer: I learned a lot from building zoids, putting them together, watching them move etc etc. At the same time, it's also sort of basic anatomy too? Your hinged elbow joint is a mechanism and if you just made the same joint in metal it would work the same way. But ALSO when i draw them, I follow the ref sheets for big parts but mostly bullshit the details because who give a shit at the end of the day if I put a screw wrong, no one's going to care

Anonymous asked: "Idk if this helps you at all but on r/zoids on the Dreaded Reddit people talk about 3d printed zoids so maybe you can get your zoids that way"

Answer: I am a member of r/zoids lol... that sounds really cool though. I've never seen a 3D printer in real life before tho. But I can't be out here getting more zoids when I have had my HMM command wolf half-constructed for literally over a year because I keep procrastinating on it

Anonymous asked: "A lot of libraries have 3d printers and some people will like. Hire theirs out so people can print stuff"

Answer: Not in Ireland they don't

Anonymous asked: "Is it illegal to make beaft ocs".

Answer: I'm not a cop and my main stance is: do what you want, I can't stop you. If you would like to design a mech animal using medieval bestiary aesthetics - go for it, it's fun. However, why does it have to play by my setting rules? Wouldn't you prefer to make something wholly belonging to yourself? You can invent a million new ways to use this sort of mech design in a story with a whole new setting, all yours. It just won't be one of mine or in my setting.

Anyway you couldn't make a beaft oc in my setting anyway because you don't even know what they are or how they work

#you are all so thirsty for beafts #info asks #setting: mez #anon is now off over xmas

[hekateinhell]

sending this well after you've probably gone to bed HOWEVER i am always ready to report for louis/armand/lestat duty so HERE GOES:

Every time they get in a petty fight, someone rearranges the vinyl collection at Trinity Gate. Louis organizes alphabetically by artist, Armand organizes by genre, and Lestat organizes chronologically. The music room is a goddamn war zone.

When Lestat is an Extra Extra Good Boy (or just in need of some tlc in general) Louis and Armand make the best mani-pedi team. Louis takes a foot and Armand takes a hand, then they switch for the opposite side. 

Somehow Armand gets ahold of the tattered old TVL band shirt that Louis used to sleep in. He lounges around the house in it and has both Lestat and Louis drooling in SECONDS (bonus smut points if Louis and Lestat both take turns fucking him in it)

Also this is just Louis/Armand but listen i've been thinking a lot lately of how strong Armand is!!! Like I know the fun thing about his character is that he's got the craziest mental tenacity for someone trapped in a small/young body, but I do think people sleep on how physically strong he is as well. Anyway, all I'm saying is: I want to see him hoist Louis up against a wall and fuck him <3 I want Louis to get overpowered and dicked down by someone half a foot shorter than him LOL it would be good for him!!!!!!

ASHLEYYYYY OH MY GOD I LOVE ALL THESE SO MUCH YOU ALWAYS HIT ME WHERE I LIVE!!! 😭😭😭

i love thinking about what their domestic life would look like LMAO canon or human AU because all three of them complement and contrast each other so fucking well, i'm all over that all day every day!!!! asksfkdsgj rip the music room 💀 i hope to god nobody gets petty enough to fuck with the library and louis's meticulously thought out system of displaying his books that only he knows (lestat gets petty enough, armand knows better -- tbh idk if he actually ever gets mad at louis? as easily as lestat sets him off, louis has the opposite effect. but for argument's sake, i think if louis did piss armand off, armand would react by pretending he's fine but he would immediately start being infantilizing and weird. really, really emphasizing the "sweet, dusty louis" every other sentence like he's marius talking to a wain victorian orphan).

NO BUT THIS IS SO SWEET!!! not to get too serious but for canon fic i think about court era!lestat a lot and like how he comes right out and says to marius "you don't want a prince in me, you want a figurehead, you would be the ruler here" and really just all the times he sounds so Tired & Done™️ in general with everything. lestat getting some TLC from his consort and madame de pompadour on the regular is harm reduction at its finest lbr. i wanna see armand and louis giving him a perfumed bath a la QotD but without the trauma (and like in Air Catcher too now that i've triggered the memory, i love your brain so much DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I REREAD THAT FIC 🥹)

OH MY GOD STOP PLEASE!!! i wanna know like was armand intentional about wearing louis's lestat shirt? in his mind, is this The Next Logical Step in their threesome relationship? was he expecting a reaction or was he just looking to self-soothe and instead of going for one of louis's baggy sweaters that would hit the thigh on armand, he just grabbed the shirt? regardless, i hope they dped him 🫶🏼 (i totally need this to happen both in canon verse and in teen au future verse)

NO ASHLEY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND LMAO NOBODY KNOWS BECAUSE I HAVE TOO MUCH GOING ON TO ACTUALLY WRITE BUT THE SMUT MACHINE NEVER STOPS AND LATELY I JUST WANT ARMAND TO TOP EVERYONE!!!! i wanna see the short king bend back those long legs and go to town on these catholic boys! 🤧 armand is the ultimate switch and he is, in his own words, NOT A WAIF. he can lift that bag of bones easily!!! ❤️ and i remember we talked about like top/bottom dynamics with lestat and louis--either physically or just energy wise--and how it would probably take a considerable amount of time and effort for louis to heal enough to relinquish that control to lestat again following the RR years and all that went down... i'm thinking like if i wanted squish armand in there and I DO, it would be a good step in that direction for louis to practice being open (get it? i'll see myself out) with armand first (literally expanding on PL canon here just adding the sex LMAO). tl;dr: it would be good for both of them if armand fucked that sad, wet man (as a treat) ALSO ALSO SEE MY FAVE "ARMAND FUCKS LOUIS" FICLET THAT IS WAY TOO FUCKING SHORT

#my answers are very stream of consciousness these days i can't be bothered but also- #I HAD SO MANY INCOHERENT THOUGHTS I'M SORRY ILY THANK YOU <3 #armand/lestat/louis #armand/louis #vc #you ask and hekate answers

[wingspiked]

headcanons: powers edition.

ㅤㅤㅤmoss got me thinkin' about sunday's usage of 'harmony' and his powers. i am biased, of course, but i do think sunday and robin are both emanators of the harmony - but sunday, specifically the 'ena' half just given his design thematics, certain leaks, and his obsession with 'order.' i think the dreammaster likely recognized this blessing when both halovians were little chicks, and thusly thieved them for whatever reason. i'm probably totally wrong here btw but this is how i'm living.

ㅤㅤㅤi think sunday's power falls specifically into those scary angel thematics again. he utilizes the harmony to enact his (and Their will) as if he were something of a messenger. think of the christian angels in the bible - descending to spout god's words and offer guidance to the flock. the guidance, is not always benevolent, and sunday views himself as the holy consecrating hand of harmony - the one wreathed in angelic flame that either burns and wastes or heals and mends.

ㅤㅤㅤit's a terrifying power - because he used it with ease on aventurine, enough so that we're not exactly certain just how far sunday's influence can make someone go (since lbr aventurine was already one foot out the door okay he was ready to GO)

ㅤㅤㅤsunday has other powers as well - he is obviously capable of rooting around in other people's minds and telepathic communication, but less words and more... feeling. he can feel your feelings, and he can make you feel his own. i also like to think that robin possesses similar powers, with possible variation, and throughout the years they have been able to communicate with each other mind to mind - never actually uttering a word both mentally and verbally.

ㅤㅤㅤsunday also does a neat little trick where he likes to wiggle his presence into the mind of his partners, and curl up there. it's an act of immense intimacy for the halovian, and he makes no moves to read thoughts or influence the mind or feelings, but instead just exists. think of it similar to him sitting in your lap, or holding your hand. it's meant to be cute.

#𝐕. [ . . . ] headcanon / #i love the last bit okay it's important to me

[arabaka]

marie, we need to discuss sexually frustrating reigen while he's at work immediately (jk no pressure whenever you have time my sweet beautiful princess kisses your feet)

*₊˚💬୧ jazz first of all i'm so sorry for taking so long here AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ILYSM!!!!!!!!! i was hoarding this one and hoping a really good idea would come to me but instead i bring you. several

there's always the easy bet on showing up at the office with more revealing clothing. a crop top with low-rise jeans. a sundress that's a little on the short side. but you know what really winds him up? when you pop in wearing on of HIS shirts, it's a little baggy on you so you opt to wear shorts underneath but you might as well wear nothing at all tbh. just imagine you walk in, maybe in a rush, say you just came to pick something up and you're out the door without so much as a kiss hello. reigen just ends up shifting uncomfortably in his chair the rest of the session, trying to quit his imagination while it's ahead but nooo- he's already thinking of grabbing you by your wrist, "where do you think you're going?" and taking you over... anywhere lbr

you sit across from him at his desk, helping with some menial office tasks. you start to brush your leg up and down his calf, foot inching closer to his inner thighs and you know you've got him hook, line, and sinker when he starts to squirm and breathe a little harder. you want to continue the game, continue fondling him but then a client shows up. you give him one last stroke, sandal pressing tenderly on his bulge. ( iswear i do not have a shoe/foot fetish i swear pls do not come for me this is serious) in a chipper voice, you welcome the guest and heap praises on reigen and his talent, knowing full well stroking his ego is another one of your special talents.

reigen working on his laptop and asking for your set of eyes; web design still isn't in his wheelhouse per se so your opinion always seals the deal. but you're cheeky, coming up behind him and deliberately pressing your chest deeper than it needs to be on his back while you point out the little things that can use adjusting. your breasts squish so softly against him, you feel his shoulders jerk at the sudden sensation. you can see just a sliver of his mouth twitching as he tries to stifle a small moan.

you better be ready bc he's gonna deal with u when he gets home !!!

#reigen x you #reigen x reader #reigen arataka x you #reigen arataka x reader #mp100 imagines #mp reigen #mp100 #reigen #reigen arataka #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 📮 ɞ ˚₊ ‧ˋ*⁀➷ ꒰ mail time! ꒱ #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 💌 ɞ ˚₊ ‧ˋ⁀➷ ꒰ mail for marie! ꒱

[lgcjino]

MOON JINO ( 문지노 ) ╎ TWENTY Y/O, KOREAN KIWI. YOUNGER BRO OF @lgcjiah.

TL;DR signed around the same time as jiah (jul. 2022), doesn't really know what he's doing, having fun anyways.

howdy all! sorry it took me forever to post an intro, it's literally been years since i've been on tumblr and it's insane how much has changed so i had to ... re-learn everything and that was a trip. anyways, i'm a newbie here at lgc so please be easy on me! i still have much to read but i'm always open to anything / brainstorming. down below are some not-so-short ipso-factos about moon jino. i'm so excited to get started, i'll be answering messages now but (if this isn't totally old school) please like this post for a plot?

TIDBITS

born 2003. 02. 13. in raglan, new zealand -> the younger brother of moon jiah

tall boy, standing at 189 cm

outgoing, loyal, idiotically optimistic which makes him an easy target for his naivity and for pretty much being a doormat

probably overly friendly, he's never really had a problem making friends, keeping them may be the problem bc he can come off as annoying -> chronically the friend always hitting you up to do something even if you just saw them yesterday/or hours ago

followed his sister to korea bc he was worried about her -> ended up auditioning with her for lgc bc if she's gonna get scammed again, at least both of them will be together to pick up the pieces!

a siscon in the most innocent way possible -> aka an overprotective younger brother who follows his sister around like a little puppy (think clifford the red dog) but actually is just being an annoying little brother

has no real dreams or aspirations, kind of went into this thing willing for some calling to call to him – has yet to have it but he’s enjoying his time here

has always been someone who enjoyed doing things with no questions asked; not really someone who’d enjoy doing nothing (likes to fill his time with things like gaming, hanging out with people, etc.)

he may seem like someone who’d enjoy being center of attention, but he leaves that to his sister, he doesn’t mind just being there and basking in their glory (aka he lit rode his sister’s coattails all the way to seoul lbr)

a health fanatic, he snacks sometimes. dislikes soda because he doesn’t like the way the fizz feels in his throat; works out quite frequently, several days a week with a notable routine, goes on hikes when he can

likes to take pictures can’t say he’s good at them, but he tries his hardest

very rare but when he is feeling shy, usually he covers his mouth with his hand, as if trying to hide his smile/blush

fairly independent and adventurous, given his parent’s lax childrearing, he got his license at 16 and always has an up to date passport ready

chronic texter, and texts right away, too; hardly takes calls unless he really needs to

thinks he can be a comedian if this doesn't work out

learned how to play the guitar at 10, side by side with the piano but was more into the guitar -> transitioned to electric guitar by 12

PLOT HOLES

we !!! want !!! friends !!!

ik im a bit late but plotting for trainee mission 014?

im tired and as you can see from the lack of grammar now that i have lost steam, i promise ill be better in the morning!

#honestly took me hours to understand how to format a post so ......... yeah #지노★ ₊ out of character

[chloeangelic]

Heyyyy I just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing and if I had to pick one (which lbr is fucking impossible because everything you write is a work of art), "Seeking what is desirable" is it.

I love the way you write esp the unique world you build in each fic - I feel so connected to the "unhappily married teacher reader from NJ but now in Texas" despite the fact I have nothing in common with her except a gym membership and a lust for Joel Miller.

Also I've recently started watching Sopranos which I saw you mentioned before is partly an inspo for "Seeking" and I totally get it esp Jeremiah's mum being Ro inspired! Are there any other Soprano influences you've sprinkled into the fic?

Anyway, happy holidays (if you celebrate?) and I'm looking forward to your writing/next chapter, with zero pressure, whenever you're ready to share with us humble fans because we're happy to wait ❤️

hiii thank you so much 🤍🤍 congrats on starting sopranos, you are in for a RIDE hahaha its my fav show in the world. gwen is 100% janice inspired, like every time i write her i imagine janice saying her lines as a quality check hahahaha

jeremiah is tony inspired, though less... tony, haha. ladybug was supposed to be more carmela coded but i found the story more effective she didn't fit into her environment, and in that way she's slightly more adriana coded, considering she's sacrificed herself for jeremiah. their dynamic is a little bit chrissy/adriana tbh. otherwise, jeremiah and vivian being from NJ is a big one, but that was actually sort of an arbitrary decision, i was debating on whether he should be from NY or NJ.

actually, when i think about it - the interactions between ladybug, gianna and isabella later on are sort of sex and the city inspired. i'm very much a samantha irl and i think isabella is a lot like that too haha

since you clicked my ask button - the way it's formulated is a sopranos reference in itself; johnny sack always answers the phone by saying SPEAK !! love him haha

and ty! i do celebrate christmas haha though scandinavian xmas is very not-religious and is more like pagan xmas

ch 4 of seeking is coming on dec 26th!!!

#chloe answers #seeking fic

[catoscloves]

whenever i see an SE shipper or an anti SC person in general (nothing towards my SE mutuals ily all <3) claim a power imbalance between stefan and caroline i'm always kinda struggling to understand....

"stefan was not as invested in the relationship than caroline" uhm no that was m*roline, where matt was constantly putting caroline down and inadvertently pitting her against elena. people think that that was the situation when it came to stefan's elena versus caroline narrative (as in which one he wanted as a romantic partner) when ultimately it wasn't true? when stefan was with elena he didn't express romantic attraction to caroline - in fact he politely and gently rejected caroline's advances because of his interest in elena WITHOUT leading caroline on or comparing her to elena or pitting the two women together. stefan never insults caroline as a person (that was matt - 'deep's not really your thing') - other than that idiotic calculator comment which obvs wasn't great but is not the worst thing a white man said about a woman on this show - and he even respects and values caroline/admires her growth from insecure and 'shallow' and petty to levelheaded and assertive and in control WHILE he's still committed to elena. the fact that he was attracted to elena first doesn't necessarily make caroline a runner up/second best to elena either, and that seems to be a common opinion shared between stelena shippers (which is an opinion y'all are entitled to have, i just think it's wrong lol).

and people like to bring out caroline's claim that stefan "only had eyes for elena during their first meeting" which was essentially true i guess, in their anti steroline gifsets. but they forget that when stefan was an amnesiac, he trusted caroline, a girl whom he'd basically "just met," over a man who introduced himself as his brother and a woman who must have informed stefan at some point that she was his "(former) epic love." stefan also called caroline his attractive "best friend" at their first meeting ('you're hotter in person'). stefan made plenty of advances toward caroline (he initiated!!!!!!), romantically and otherwise, and even chose to dance because it made her happy, without her having to plead (which was always the case when he and elena were together). stefan respected her space and the fact that she needed to work through and resolve her issues after liz's death, their relationship was decided on HER terms ('when you are ready for me i'll be ready for you'), and stefan and caroline were equals in their platonic and romantic relationship (one of the healthiest relationships on tvd lbr).

also if any stefan relationship had a power imbalance it was st*lena imo, not steroline. stefan was a 100+ year old man who harrassed and stalked a seventeen year old that looked like his ex, consistently lied to her and ommitted important details throughout s1, basically forced an already traumatized girl to do his emotional labor/help him pull through his addiction, then almost killed her for the sake of his vendetta against klaus (forcing her to relive her bridge related trauma and the death of her parents), and planned to hunt her down/force feed her the cure she repeatedly and clearly communicated that she DIDN'T want. while caroline was the same age as elena and also an insecure teenage girl, which is why it makes sense that steroline could have easily become that kind of dynamic, none of these problems ever came up for steroline. stefan politely rejected caroline (not even as a person like d*mon and m*tt did, insulting and belittling her personality and values, but simply because he was pursuing another love interest), caroline moved on, they built a mutually respectful and fond friendship dynamic, and caroline had an equal amount of power because she wasn't a vulnerable human but a vampire with control (vampirism also clearly gave her a self esteem boost and helped her work through her insecurities), which meant stefan never had an opportunity to take advantage of her vulnerability.

#anti stelena #anna speaks #steroline #the vampire diaries #caroline x stefan #anti stefan salvatore for ts #otp: better than true love

[llycaons]

ep33 (1/3): relitigating the suicide scene

so picking right up where we left off, I know wwx is extremely unpopular now but does this asshole have to bring up the massacre at LP??? that seems targeted towards wwx's specific and fairly private insecurities. but once someone is a villain, that means everything they've ever done is tainted. so as if this wasn't bad enough, now he has people on all sides turning on him with emotional attacks far more damaging than any physical wounds they could impart

oh yeah and people telling him directly to die. really heartbreaking to see this happen to a character so vigorously attached to life, someone who's been beaten down again and again and who refused to die. and wwx loves his life. loved. you can tell how devastating this is to push someone like him to this

this will always be the most meaningful way that he dies. his suicide is one of the most powerful and significant events in the story. having him torn apart just hits different

first you tell him to play, now you tell him to stop. it's a good thing he never listens to you. man, but lwj was useless this night

well, that's not true. he tried to save wwx. he reminded wwx, just for a moment, that someone still cared about him. and that mattered

ohh the single tear

AND the spitting up blood, which alarms lwj so much that someone gets a hit on him. qi deviation?

and it just goes to show, doesn't it. all the posturing about brave dead soldiers and the loss of innocent lives was just a smoke show to conceal their true purpose. the hypocrisy, the corruption, the greed. as soon as he stumbles they latch onto his source of power to steal it for themselves

this is so raw. they hardly ever let him get this messy. but that is actual snot on there

THE RITE OF SPRING!!!!!!!!!!!! IT SOUNDS SO GOOD HERE. also they've been at it for hours, I guess? it's dawn

check out that sick cgi hand being severed from its arm. they're all just fucking killing each other trying to get the STA now. gloves off. sect leader yao just slit a guy's throat

I've seen a post like 'lwj killed a bunch of guys in wwx's defense at nightless city, I guess they just politely don't mention it' but lbr, nightless was a bloodbath because of the sect members killing each other too. if they bring up what any one person did, they'll have to face what they all did. better to blame all deaths on wwx

oh, bad cgi hand stab. my beloved. grabbed my attention early on

and this, and this. he's at his limit. he's been holding it in, but now he's just openly sobbing. at this point I'm ready for him to go. better to come back later, more at peace, than stay here and suffer

DEVASTATING. we know wwx will come back, eventually, but for lwj? he's watching the love of his life kill himself and he's powerless to stop him

I don't think cql lwj ever could have taken wwx anywhere against his will. even now, he's begging rather than trying to physically stop him. he didn't fly down on his sword to grab him. he doesn't have it in him to impede wwx's autonomy like that. even now

and here's more tears. beautiful shot

classic shot

another classic shot. looking like he can hardly believe it. I like when they talk in fics abt him losing his mind and not remembering or understanding much that happened this night. I don't think he's quite lucid. he didn't even seem to see lwj earlier. but he smiles a little, when he sees him. good old lan zhan, trying to save a lost cause

I also really like the blood running down his chin. I think it adds to the look really well

no words for this one. fuck. he must be so tired

jc's emotional journey here is worth paying attention to. obviously it's not the black and white hero-vanquishing-evil scene we saw at the beginning of the show, but I've seen multiple readings that try to simplify it in other ways, that try to say 'this is a private moment between only two characters', between wwx and jc or between wwx and lwj, when I think it's very clearly a significant interaction with both of them. jc and lwj are the two characters with the most significant relationships with wwx, and neither of their respective roles in the story can be shoved aside for the other. at least, not in the flashback arc. postres it's a bit of a different story

anywa wwx is never going to have a simple relationship with jc. especially not here or now, not after what just happened.

I have seen people criticize jc really harshly for killing his brother, which is annoying because it doesn't offer any context as to who wwx is or why this is happening. anyone can kill their brother, it all depends on why. I'd rather criticize him for things in the context of the scene

and why is he smiling? well, like with lwj, maybe it's nice to see a familiar face at the very end.

wwx is already planning to die here. jc's actions don't make that more likely, but they probably hurt wwx on an emotional level. or maybe he finds it fitting, a just end after what he feels like is an unforgivable crime. I don't think that makes jc's actions here better, btw. I still think this was a horrible thing to do to someone who loved and sacrificed so much for his family and for innocent people, whatever his mistakes.

he looked resigned in the moment, but revisiting it, it looks like he's bracing for pain. oh god this all hurts so much. I don't care who 'really' killed him. the emotional scars matter far more. and this isn't something wwx is going to forget when he wakes up. he has his eyes closed so he can't see how scared and sad jc looks but like, does it matter? must he coddle jc even now, when jc's about to try to kill him?

yeah it's pretty unambiguous that he stabbed that rock on purpose in order to dislodge it. the camera pans back up to him, he looks determined and angry, and he twists his sword. I've seen so many arguments and speculations on it and um he doesn't look confused or anything just terribly terribly sad. there's part of him that's grieving wwx too even as he tries to kill him. damn, but he always gets in his own way

I do think it's significant that he doesn't outright stab wwx - after all, why change it from ep1? maybe to make clear that this was a suicide more than a murder, despite appearances

yeah wwx sees what's happening and twists out pretty clearly

and jc looks...stunned? shocked? horrified? a bit dumb with his hair like that. this is hardly a straightforward or easy emotional time for him. he probably went home and cried for week and refused to consider that he might have been crying for wwx just as much as jyl

that being said I have limited sympathy for him over grieving wwx. like he didn't even try. he wanted him dead, and he died. though characteristically, wwx succeeded where he failed in actually doing the deed

DYING WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE. HE KILLS ME I SAY

lwj obviously is devastated but jc here is shaking his head, as in disgust or disapproval. really, jc? he's dead, and you're still going to hold him in contempt?

this 'wei ying' got me way more than the first one did. soft, and broken, and full of regret.

#cql re-rewatch

[skimblyspones]

Related to the spock romance and feelings post. Similar to my belief that there's no way in hell Bones actually believes Vulcans are all actually emotionless. He was talking out of his ass in All Our Tomorrows about Spock ""reverting back to his ancestors' ways"". Like I know the plot seemed to back him up but uhhhh that's some nonsense?

Bc Vulcans' emotional response is not genetic. Like I will grant you that Vulcan Lore was not fully fleshed out yet, but even then like. That's not genetic. That's not temporally-based. That's behavioral, and it's learned.

Imo Spock was just kinda uhhh desperate? Despairing? Fairly certain they'd never get home and feeling very attracted to Zarabeth rn so maybe it's actually not as existentially terrifying as it is that they'll never get home bc zarabeth will be here?

Only for Bones to do as Bones does and come in and force him to confront the situation. They don't know for certain they're stuck forever. They still ought to try to find a way back to Jim. But Bones is also doing another thing he does where, as insistent as he is that Spock has feelings, he doesn't really go into interactions with that in mind. Imo it's usually bc he wants to provoke them further in spock, and I'm not here to dissect the ethics/morals/whatever in that, but in the case of All Our Yesterdays I think it was genuinely that they both were panicked and having different responses.

And to that point I think spock admitting defeat and rationalizing why they will be happy making due in the arctic wasteland is very much in character. If he were to continue insisting on finding the portal, that is a greater chance of failing; of, in some ways, losing Jim again. If he were to insist on looking for a way out, then then he has to take even greater responsibility for himself and Bones. There was a lot of uncertainty, panic, and dread in the situation he found himself in. Zarabeth offering up the idea that even if they found the portal, she'd die; offering up the idea that they could stay with her; the obvious overtures she and spock both made; she offered him perfect rationalizations to accept their fate, and with those rationalizations he could paper over his other feelings and justify the logic to himself.

Bones, meanwhile, has been out cold (pun intended), and is ready to get going, now. It's always worth noting, I think, that Bones is like. Very nervy. By which I mean anxious. He's always shifting his gaze just slightly; always monitoring his immediate surroundings and situations, almost always ready for shit to hit the fan. He is an antsy man, I would not be shocked if he was claustrophobic. And he missed Zarabeth's story. He missed her pleas and her overtures. He has a life back in his time period, as does Spock, and he wants them both back there to find Jim now. But he's a human, and a human who is very sensitive to the cold. He didn't last long out there the first time, and when he finally had enough and left, spock and zbeth weren't too optimistic on his odds. So. He comes to after almost freezing to death, ready to get back to Jim and their mission, just in time for Spock to calmly put him back down and say matter-of-fact-ly that they're just going to stay in frozen mountain cave land for the rest of their lives; he wants to get home, Spock doesn't, and McCoy can't last long in the cold. From Bones' perspective he is effectively being held hostage in this cave by someone he thought he could trust.

But he still trusts Spock, lbr. So he's prodding him, poking him, trying to tell him to give up this game, it's not funny, we need to find Jim. Meanwhile Spock is. Effectively staving off a breakdown by focusing his attention onto his feelings for Zarabeth. If he focuses on the situation from the perspective of there still being a chance, then he has wasted time and the potential to fail increases. So his temper is short and he runs out of patience and willingness to control his emotions.

I think bones wanted to work him up, but I don't think he was expecting the grabbing and shoving; usually when Spock tells him to put the brakes on the needling it's still understated and calm. But now they're both in a prolonged high stress environment, approaching the situation from opposite ends, and Spock doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to choose between his life back home (uncertain chance of getting back, but everyone he knows and loves is there) or a new life with Zarabeth (already there, not going anywhere, but he doesn't even know her) and the more bones needles him the less he can take it.

And like. I don't think Bones whipped out the reversion idea with any actual thought. I think he was grasping at something to get Spock to de-escalate in the short term, and to reconsider finding a way home in the long-term. And consequently, even if fake nonsense, it gave Spock a rationalization to combat the coping mechanism future he was already planning here—if he was "reverting" to a more ""primitive" and violent Vulcan, he probably wouldn't be able to live with himself, especially as he's grown up considering that emotionality and violence to be of the human kind rather than vulcan. What good would he do himself or Zarabeth if he were "reverted"?

Anyway yeah I love the weird little dynamic btwn Spock and Bones and I love it when it blows up in their faces

#star trek meta #all our yesterdays #spones #kinda

[chonidale]

We all know Choni is endgame, but I'm curious who else you think is going to be endgame?

right now, after the s6 finale, i will be surprised if the endgames aren't cheryl/toni, jughead/tabitha and betty/archie. kevin's endgame can go either way, but i'm pulling for moose, leaving fangs to join reggie and veronica in the singles club. now, i'll be the first to remind people that with riverdale things can change and plots/motivations can be dropped from episode to episode, so anything is possible with the straights until the very end, but right now, i just don't see how it would happen from where we are and what's transpired over the last two seasons.

if archie/veronica and especially betty/jughead are endgame, it's something the writers haven't decided on yet because let's be real, from the very beginning, the straights have always been prioritized over choni, and yet choni got a pretty epic endgame set up in the finale - complete with a sex scene and them being made canon soulmates - but not them? it just isn't ras' style, lbr. the way i see it is that choni got their big reunion set up the way they did because they're going to be the only reunion.

there's also the fact that no other option has been set up for tabitha, and after their public lashings for their racism in the summer of 2020, they've made it very clear that they know they have little room for error with how tabitha is treated. while they've still left a lot to be desired with how they write toni, they've done a far better job with tabitha, and there's no way they don't know how awful it would look for them to build her relationship with jughead up for multiple seasons only to have him end up with betty at the last minute and leave her single. i just do not see it happening at all. so imo, that and just how they’ve been written vs the other exes, betty/jughead is the least likely to be endgame of the four main straight ship options, which i never would have guessed back at the beginning of s5, but here we are.

i think that veronica/archie have a slightly better chance because i do think the infamous triangle will be played into a little in the 50s, but in order for them to be endgame, it would leave betty to either end up with jughead (which i already said i find very unlikely) or single, and there hasn't been any set up for betty's happy ending being single, whereas there has been a lot for veronica. and they've also had veronica and archie try again and had them find that they're incompatible. regardless of how you feel about how much sense that made, they did that for a reason. and the fact that they had veronica struggle with being single and end the season ready to embrace it, makes me think that's going to be her arc when we get back to the present, and her ending will be fully embracing it.

not to mention that both betty/archie and jughead/tabitha were solid throughout s6. sure, there were things to nitpick here or there for antis, but riverdale is not a subtle show, and looking at the complaints objectively, the things being nitpicked were clearly not meant to show cracks or reflect badly on the relationships. and again, if they were planning on the other ships being endgame, i would think they'd have set up reasons for why the current relationships don't work the way they did with toni/fangs throughout the season, not to mention set up the reunions like they did with choni. the fact that so many shippers are counting on s6 being an alternate universe and completely erased from continuity so we go back to 517 before the other ships ever happened kind of shows that they realize this, too. and despite what some people think, the comet and the 50s did not do that.

so yeah. my opinion could change once s7 starts airing and things look different, but based on how this last season played out, my money is on cheryl/toni, jughead/tabitha and betty/archie, in order of certainty. and hoping for kevin/moose.

#thoughts

[hekateinhell]

Your very specific brand of Armand/Lestat toxic yuri compels me so much! Although lbr even OG male!Armand and Lestat have toxic yuri vibes going on 🤔probably has something to do with all the yearning and the tantrums and the LACE 🥹

LOVED your qotd entry needless to say. So slutty, so gritty yet delicate, so them/you. I listened to Lana del Rey as I was reading it because it felt right. ENRICHMENT, from start to finish. I genuinely love how this whole event has brought us together as a fandom lmao, leave it to the vc community to be at each other's throats constantly over mlm pairings yet the second femslash is involved, we're all blood sisters. AS IT WAS WRITTEN. Always your biggest fan xoxo DA ❤️

🥹🥹🥹

DA, HI BABE I MISSED YOU!!!!!!

I'm so glad you liked the fic!!! I had such a blast and perhaps five different meltdowns writing it. ♥️

I wasn't sure how the fic would be received because I know femslash isn't big in this fandom (though hopefully we're starting to change that!) and L/A isn't one of the juggernaut ships in general and it's an AU, so I really was just writing for me and the girlies (gnc) with this one! LOL I love L/A! I love women! I love playing in and outside of canon! 🤧♥️ (btw I'm still planning to write 1-2 chapters more for this fic so if there was anything in particular that you enjoyed or you would like to see, just let me know and I would love to include it or include something with the same vibe 🥹) 

Although lbr even OG male!Armand and Lestat have toxic yuri vibes going on 🤔probably has something to do with all the yearning and the tantrums and the LACE 🥹

Oh my god, now you have me wondering if that is why this ship hits so fucking hard for me! PLEASE give me all the yearning and tantrums and lace 🥹 it's Wuthering Heights, it's Saltburn, it's Much Ado About Nothing, it's Girl Interrupted.

I love that you were listening to Lana lmao so was I when I was writing it! Blue Velvet, Love, and Get Free. But also Cigarettes After Sex and Perturbator just to rotate vibes.

I genuinely love how this whole event has brought us together as a fandom lmao, leave it to the vc community to be at each other's throats constantly over mlm pairings yet the second femslash is involved, we're all blood sisters.

I'm so happy with the way our first Queens of the Damned went and I'm so proud of @lovevamp for coming up with the idea in the first place and having all the prompts and everything ready to go in under 14 hours!!!! It's her baby and we're so lucky to have her in our fandom bringing us omegaverse and femslash and all the good things 🥹🥹💕💕

Thank you so much for dropping by babe—I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN 🫶🏼

#hope you're well and the universe gives you a break from Adulting soon! ���� #you ask and hekate answers #dungeon anon #<333333 #r63 armand/lestat

[percentstardust]

'I want a baby' (tara to sam because lbr she talked this all out with same before she and chad decided anything)

@lcveblossomed

"You do? Are you and Chad ready for that step, T? If so, then I say go for it." Her own child was unexpected, but, a welcome surprise for her and Danny. They named her Aurora, a name Sam suggest on a whim after they found out they were having a girl. Her daughter is wrapped around her finger, she does not understand how her own mother treated her the way she treated her. She would never hurt Aurora that way. She always feared a new Ghostface killer would show up eventually, but, she would stop them just as she stopped the other ones before.

"I'm all for it. Aurora needs a baby cousin. You'll make a great mom."

#lcveblossomed #& answered ask ( sam carpenter ) #remember when you sent me an ask with t asking her if she's pregnant??? borrowed from THAT FOR MY ANSWER!!!!! #pregnancy cw

[yeslikethewizard]

Man listening to Martin's reaction to meeting Michael and, lbr he always had that good, "I'm gonna do a murder." Energy in his heart. Guy was ready to throw down with him, and maybe even with the Not Them like rofl boy was going in there to save Jon with his fists

#tma #the magnus archives