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#these two love each other lbr
mindyourstars · 1 year
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JE TE LAISSERAI DES MOTS (SEBASTIAN SALLOW X FEM!READER)
Takes place after reader's 5th year. Spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy mentioned! Includes fluff. Lots of fluff. Word Count: 2.3K ****************************************************
            You had spent another day attending classes in Hogwarts with your mind only half paying attention to each lesson. It was relatively hard to focus when your closest and dearest friend, Sebastian Sallow, kept slipping you notes in classes with small little inside jokes and teasing remarks. It had been something that happened all day! Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and now Potions class. Each note you received was Sebastian’s attempt to make you smile. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved when you smiled. Everyone with eyes could see it, except you. 
            You saw a hand slide a small piece of parchment that was folded over two or three times. You discreetly unfolded it, reading the message in Sebastian’s familiar messy scrawl. 
Professor Sharp is looking rather vexed at Garreth’s latest concoction. I wonder how long until he blows something else to bits. 
            You had to shoot Sebastian a warning look as your lips twitched at the corners to reveal a subtle smile. It was no secret that Garreth was trying to create… something. He had recruited you to assist him quite a few times, but to no avail. You were going to reply when at the table over you heard loud bubbling followed by an even louder ‘BANG’. It would have surprised everyone in the course, but it had happened so many times the bang was followed by a collective groan. Everyone knowingly glanced at Garreth who was sheepishly standing in front of his newest failed experiment. 
            Garreth’s mouth opened in an attempt to explain, but he was interrupted by the smoke that began to encapsulate the class, causing Professor Sharp to run his hands over his already tired expression. 
            “I suppose it goes without saying that there will be quite a hefty number of points taken from Gryffindor.” His tone was as pointed as his gaze, causing Sebastian to glance at you with a teasing smirk. This in return caused you to giggle. 
            “Finding something funny, Miss (L/N)?” Your smile quickly melted into a cool expression as you shook your head no.
            “No professor Sharp, I sincerely apologize.” You spoke as calmly as you could and watched as the professor’s gaze lingered with yours for a moment before he shrugged. 
            “Let this be a warning to this whole class that we must take this course seriously! Class dismissed.” 
            You gathered your things and made way to the exit, waiting outside of the doorway against the wall for Sebastian to join you. After quite a bit of students shoveled out, Sebastian along with Ominis joined you by the wall. 
            “I have a sneaking suspicion that the reason you began to laugh was due to Sebastian.” Ominis uttered with no hesitation, his mouth turned up into a teasing smirk. 
            “Well, you DO know that I am quite the charmer, Ominis. It’s a talent not many possess.” He replied with a confident demeanor and a waggle of his brows. 
            You giggled again, hugging your potions textbook tightly against your chest as the three of you collectively began to walk the corridors back to the Slytherin common room. 
            “It was a pity laugh.” You teased, standing between the two boys who easily had their height over you. “I will say I am very much enjoying the weekly explosion that cuts class short.” 
            Sebastian nodded in agreement along with Ominis as the three of you turned another corner towards the moving staircases. 
            “It’s become a lovely little tradition.” Sebastian agreed with a chuckle causing you to smile at the sound. 
            Sebastian and you had been very close since you arrived at Hogwarts last year. He had gone through quite a lot since everything that happened between his sister Anne and his uncle Solomon. Ominis struggled to forgive Sebastian as well, but together the three of you slowly moved on with each passing day. 
            “Well, I have to go work on some homework for Divination, so the two of you do not get into too much trouble.” Ominis’ head turned in Sebastian’s direction for just a moment, causing Sebastian’s smile to falter ever so slightly. 
            Before Sebastian could say anything in response, you cut in with a chipper tone.
            “Ominis! You know that he’s in great hands with me.” You said with a bright grin, your tone matching the demeanor. 
            As a result, you could see Ominis’ shoulders relax. 
            “Alright, I will speak with you both later.” The Gaunt boy stated with a nod before he began to trudge down towards the common room. 
            You waited a beat before turning to Sebastian, looking up at him since he had grown a bit taller over the break between fifth and sixth year. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his familiar expression bracing his face. Sebastian did his best to try and be his old self, but with the loss of Anne a bit of him always lacked a spark that you used to remember. The boy who challenged you in Defense Against the Dark Arts had very much built a cautious air around him, but with you? He attempted extra to make sure that the two of you remained comfortable.
            In that moment, Sebastian began to tap his fingers while they remained crossed with his gaze keeping firm on you. It caused you to straighten your posture as you questioned what was crossing the Sallow boy’s mind. 
            “Why are you staring at me that way?” You asked with a nervous chuckle escaping your blush lips. 
            Sebastian grinned slightly and shook his head as he shrugged his shoulders. 
            “I was just thinking about how you and I haven’t practiced for crossed wands in the Undercroft in quite some time. We have a free afternoon… Care to join me?” He asked with a teasing grin. 
            The invite honestly surprised you. Sebastian avoided Crossed Wands for most of your sixth year. His tenacity to win seemed to scare him ever since the situation with his Uncle Solomon. His invite made you smile even brighter than before. It excited you that Sebastian was opening himself up to a hobby he used to once adore. 
            “Of course, Sebastian! I am very ready to absolutely wipe the floor with you.” You teased, shoving him playfully. 
            He feigned shock at your shove and shoved you back gently. It brought him more comfort in seeing the joy that came from your reaction. Sebastian had been tight-lipped about how he had been feeling with everything happening, but he wanted to love magic again. Magic didn’t have to be so dark. Ominis constantly reminded him of that. 
            “I would love to see you try, (Y/N).” He chuckled, but before he could continue to speak you began to rush down the hall towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, your laughter echoing through the halls like a sweet melody. 
            “Race you there!” You called back behind you, your eyes now full of delight.
            Sebastian didn’t hesitate as he began to swerve between students to attempt to catch up with you. Both of you felt your boots push roughly against the Hogwarts floors as you both playfully sabotaged each other to victory. After quite some time, you were the one to reach the Undercroft entrance, causing Sebastian to breathlessly come to a halt and shake his head. 
            “That is… unfair. You… cheated.” He told you, but you shrugged your shoulders as your own chest heaved in attempt to catch your breath. 
            “I simply am better than you!” You teased back, opening the entrance to the Undercroft as the two of you sauntered inside. 
            “Oh hush.” He quipped in return, removing his wand from the inside of his robe. “You definitely won’t win in our battle.” He teased, taking his place 10 paces from you. 
            “Is that a challenge, Sallow?” You scoffed, taking your own wand in your hands, your eyebrows raising in peaked curiosity. You were quite fond of the challenge. It was nice to have a bit of the old Sebastian fully realized in front of you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all an act. So, you made a mental note to go a bit easy on him at first. 
            “Expelliarmus.” He stated as your wand flew from your hand. You gasped at the immediate start and Sebastian smirked sinisterly at you. “It’s very much a challenge, (L/N).” He teased, grabbing your wand and moving to hand it back to you. 
            You grabbed it in your hands quickly and the two of you resumed in your places. With a beat of silence, the room exploded in different swirls of magic surrounding the two of you. Spells were being yelled as the two of you were being flung and dragged towards one another. 
            “Accio!” Sebastian yelled as you were thrusted forward towards him, his grin prominent on his face as he picked your wand from your hand and shrugged. 
            “Guess I win, (Y/N). Not bad for a hiatus.” He stated, causing you to smile and nod in response. 
            “Not bad Sebastian, not bad.” You said as you tried to grab your wand from him, but he raised his hand above his head with a tight grip to make it a challenge for you to grab it. 
            “Uh-uh! Not so easy.” He teased which caused you to scoff. You raised your hands to try and grab your wand, but he maneuvered it around, so it was always just out of your reach. 
            You grumbled and began to hp up to try and grab it, but after your third hop you landed incorrectly and the two of you came tumbling down. The way you landed, both wands had been flung across the stone floor with small clatter sounds, and you were on top of Sebastian as he had broken your fall. The two of you burst out into laughs, but once your gazes met something… happened. You felt heat rise to your face as a blush began to make itself present ad Sebastian had the same thing happen. His ears began to turn a deep scarlet as his freckled cheeks began to be covered by the blush that was taking over his whole face. 
            You coughed to break the tension and moved to sit beside him on the stone ground. Sebastian clambered himself up using his elbows to also sit up beside you. You glanced over at him and smiled, laying your head on his shoulder. 
            “Sebastian?” You asked, your voice going from the teasing challenging tone to a much softer one.
            “Yes, (Y/N)?” He asked, his brown eyes moving to look at you on his shoulder. He was attempting to play it off, but his confidence faltered with each touch you gave him. 
            “I’m glad you did this. I’m glad you’re having fun with magic again.” You admitted, moving your head on his shoulder to meet his gaze. 
            Your faces were awfully close to one another. You could clearly smell the intoxicating scent of oak emanating from Sebastian’s robe. It was an intoxicating aroma. Sebastian’s eyes softened at your admission. He released an exhale, wrapping an arm around you to pull you closer. 
            “I couldn’t have done it without you… and Ominis.” He stated, causing a soft giggle to escape your lips. “I almost lost myself last year. I didn’t heed you or Ominis’ warnings and as a result I did something that I will live with the rest of my life.” He admitted, causing you to frown. 
            It wasn’t the greatest memory. Sebastian’s anger during that period of your friendship was concerning. His drive to save Anne had consumed him to a deadly degree. He began to grow desperate, and it was the type of desperation that drove a person mad. 
            “But you can get through it. You have your friends.” You comforted, but the word ‘friends’ caused a shocking reaction from Sebastian. 
            What you assumed would bring him comfort, brought a frown to his face. You pulled yourself from Sebastian’s grasp and glanced at him with concern. 
            “What did I say?” You asked, causing Sebastian to shake his head. 
            “Well... since we’re on the topic of confessions.” He began, his eyes darting towards the stone to avoid looking at you. 
            It caused you to worry. Did Sebastian not want to be your friend any further? Had something happened? You placed a hand on his cheek to make him look at you. 
            “Sebastian. What’s wrong? You could tell me.” You assured, his gaze meeting yours. 
            Before you could say something else, his lips crashed into yours. Your hand remained on his soft cheek, and there was no hesitation in your reciprocation. His lips were soft and tasted of a sweet honey, causing your mind to go dizzy. When he pulled away, you let out a chuckle.
            “Oh.” You said, your face turned into a bright smile. 
            “Oh? That’s all you have to say?” He exclaimed in shock. “You’re so hard to decipher, (Y/N), I just bloody kissed you.” He added. 
            “Sebastian, you’re being foolish.” You said in a kind tone. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?” You asked. 
            It took a moment, maybe even two, for Sebastian to piece together what happened; but once he understood his shoulders relaxed. He suddenly went from a look of confusion to a sheer look of glee. This caused you to grin back and kiss him once more. He paused the kiss and reached into his robe. 
            “What’s wrong?” You asked further, your body practically shaking with content. 
            “You know how I was writing you notes all day?” He asked, causing you to nod in response. “Well… this was the first one I wrote. I was too scared to pass it along.” 
            You grabbed the parchment, causing you to raise a brow as you unfolded it once. Then twice. Then a third time. Finally, Sebastian’s messy scrawl revealed itself. The words caused your smile to grow even wider (if that was even possible). 
Is it possible that I could be more in love with you?
            This caused you to bring the parchment to your chest before leaning your head on him once more. 
            “I think I’m going to love it this year.” You murmured. 
            “Yes,” He replied, his head resting on yours. “Me too.”
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litrallytyrus · 11 months
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whatever the hell richard and jan got going on is boyfriends as hell like um ……… i know gay people when i see em!
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meggannn · 6 months
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there’s a theory around that peter b stalled miles on purpose to help miguel capture him, which i find kind of funny despite being antithetical to their entire relationship and also not making much sense, because it generously ascribes three things to peter: 1. active maliciousness, 2. the ability to act, and 3. the ability to plan ahead, all traits we have two movies’ worth of proof that peter categorically does not possess
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daz4i · 2 years
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not that i don't love narrative foils or character comparisons but I'm starting to suspect some of you don't know what foils are
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sparky-is-spiders · 6 months
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Getting into a ship only to discover that it’s a form of rarepair (there’s well over 900 fics BUT almost every single one I’ve seen (so far) has it as a side ship and is primarily about the more popular mlm ships)
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honeyhotteoks · 6 months
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always only you (c.sc)
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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. 
6K notes · View notes
waitlifted · 2 years
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(( just had a galaxy brain take of including uncle monty in my modern verse as an individual (maybe a neighbor, maybe someone at her church) who's always been sweet as pie to cass and insists she can always come to him if she needs anything, who is the kindest person she's ever met when interacting on a person to person basis, but who also holds such strong "traditional values" that she knows if she were to actually tell him what she was going through he would not view her nearly as kindly ))
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aceyanaheim · 2 years
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“What I want is for you to stop treating me like a screw up little kid but you’ll never do that because you like feeling better than me you always have”
“Or maybe it’s because one way or another you do mess up and I’m the one that has to step in I’m tired of cleaning up your messes”
OOF the dysfunction the resentment I love it kadhfads
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In defence of Steve Randle
Listen guys, Steve Randle gets a lot of hate in this fandom and as much as it pains me, it's valid. Everyone has their own interpretation of the source material, and fandom is supposed to be fun, so it is absolutely valid and ok to hate or love any character you want. You can hate Steve for many reasons or for no reason at all! This is fandom! That's ok! The story is for you interpret and love and play with and hate on to your hearts content. HOWEVER, to say that Steve Randle isn't an important character to the novel is simply not true, and to say that he hates Ponyboy requires ignoring or downplaying some pretty key moments of the book. This is especially true for those of you who love Dally but hate Steve, because Steve gets a lot of hate for being kind of a dickhead (which lbr, a lot of seventeen years old are, especially to their friend's little siblings) while Dally gets less for doing a lot worse (harassing Cherry, jumping kids, etc). This isn't to say that either character is better- they're both great, nuanced characters who have done bad things, but the fandoms attitudes towards them when they share a lot of characteristics is really telling. Even Ponyboy's narration about them is pretty similar- Pony doesn't particularly like Steve, and he was canonically scared of Dally, but they're both members of his gang and he doesn't hate either of them. You don't have to like Steve as a character, just like you don't have to like Dally or Darry or Tim Shepard or even Ponyboy, but he is important- and he doesn't hate Ponyboy, nor does Ponyboy hate him.
A really important moment in the book is when Ponyboy and Johnny defend Dally after he harasses Cherry and Marcia.
"Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stickup for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber."
This line here is super important. Pony and Johnny were willing to defend Dally after he sexually harrassed Cherry and Marcia- soc girls who they clearly liked and were intimidated by- in the name of being a good friend, because that is what's important to them and their gang. If they're willing to do it in this context for Dally, you'd best believe they'd do the same for Steve, and him for them. Steve can and will rag on Ponyboy within the gang, but he'd never dream of bad mouthing him to anyone else. Dependability is important to the gang, and Steve would never publicly shit talk Pony, and vice verca. Regardless of their squabbles within the gang, at the end of the day they've got each others backs. They're buddies. We see evidence of this at the end of the book, when Pony grabs the bottle and threatens the socs with it.
"You really would have used that bottle, wouldn't you?" Two-Bit had been watching from the storedoorway. "Steve and me were backing you, but I guess we didn't need to. You'd have really cut them up, huh?"
The important thing here is that along with Two-bit, Steve was backing Ponyboy, no questions asked. Sure most of it boils down to Pony being a member of the gang and that deep rooted loyalty to one another, but the context for this scene is that Ponyboy was sitting on Steve's car waiting for Steve and Two to stop flirting with some girls. The three of them were hanging out- without Darry, without Sodapop. It's their school lunch break. We know Ponyboy has middle class friend's at school, or that he could've spent time in the school library. It was a deliberate choice to hang out with Two and Steve. He wasn't forced into it. Canonically, Steve and Ponyboy hang out. Never alone, but they're decent enough friends to hang out together in a group. Doesn't everyone have friends like that? I do. This isn't the only textual instance either where they hang out without the entire gang being present. Early on, Pony offhandedly mentions that sometimes Steve and Soda will buy him pop and teach him about cars if he hangs around the DX.
"I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help work on the cars."
He could've just said Soda's name here but he didn't. Steve buys Pony pepsi and teaches him about cars, even though he gets annoyed with him when Soda invites him to hang around with them too often. And honestly, who wouldn't? I'd be annoyed if my best friend always invited her little brother along with us, even if I liked the kid. Wouldn't you?
Now, we do need to address the elephant in the room. I'm talking of course, about this quote;
"I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him."
I feel like very often people forget the context this quote comes from, and so it's magnitude is blown way out of proportion. Ponyboy has just been jumped and then immediately scolded by his brother who constantly makes him feel foolish and unwanted. He's already scared, embarassed, and defensive and then Steve goes and makes him feel even more unwanted. Of course he wants to lash out. Of COURSE he feels like he hates Steve in that moment. I did even reading it. But Ponyboy doesn't truly hate Steve. This moment is PEAK fourteen year old having a rough night energy, it's not truly representative of Steve as a character or of Ponyboy's feelings towards him. In truth, Steve actually kind of likes Ponyboy and is at very least protective over him. This is evidence by the previous quotes, but also when Ponyboy comes back from Windrixville, and is worried about the state placing him in foster care;
"'No, [Ponyboy said] 'they ain't goin' to put us in a boys' home.' 'Don't worry about it,' Steve said, cocksure that he and Sodapop could handle anything that came up. 'They don't do things like that to heroes.'"
It's subtle, and not immediately obvious to the traumatized fourteen year old who is used to Steve's cocky nature, but this is both a reassurance and a very bold claim. Not only is Steve trying to look out for Ponyboy the way the rest of the gang models- by treating him like a kid, letting the 'adults' worry about grown up issues in a misguided attempt to protect Pony- he is also throwing in his lot to make sure nothing does happen. Based on this quote and the rest of Steve's characterization throughout the book its not hard to infer that Steve would fight tooth and nail to make sure Ponyboy stays safe with his family. Sure, part of it is gang loyalty, part of it is his devotion to soda, but part of it is because he and Ponyboy are buddies in their own right, no matter how much they fight. They are friends- and Steve is an incredibly important character for many reasons, but particularly to add depth to Pony's character, to the bond between the Curtis gang, and to highlight how the Curtis gang differs from the other gangs in Tulsa. Steve is just as much an outsider as the rest of the gang, and it's disingenuous to say otherwise no matter how much you may hate him as a character.
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findafight · 5 months
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really want a social media fic where the internet tries to decipher what the heck is going on between royjamiekeeley post s3. Like what is going on with them. Roy and Jamie's public distaste for each other becoming their funky little friendship, Keeley and Jamie being exes who are still friendly, Roy and Keeley also exes that also seem friendly, actually very close. Possible reconciliation ? but it's also like. There are pap shots where it's not clear if they're kissing or not. Between all three of them. The internet sleuthing of discovering Jamie's old Roy Kent stan account. That was also a Keeley jones thirst account (to be fair it was only thinly veiled by stan status because lbr it was a Roy Kent thirst account too.) The pictures of the three of them arm-in-arm and laughing going out and about. The wild speculation about which one of the boys Keeley is fucking without even the barest hint and thinking it could be both. Jamie making veiled references to living something even better than his teen fantasy but it's always in a tone that suggests it's not just football he's talking about with a smug grin. Roy getting caught looking fond in public far more often in the past year than he ever did in the rest of his career. Keeley deflecting questions in a way that doesn't seem like a deflection. The constant presence the other two have on each other's social media (even Roy, who posts something other than a game update or official statements etc more often, but gets into public twitter fights less). All of them so crazy about each other and so boldly in love they're honestly surprised most people haven't figured it out.
Am I going to have to write this? Am I going to have to figure out how to format tweets or whatever on ao3 for this? Fuck.
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swordcreature · 6 months
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WHOOPS the (NSFW) brain rot is really! Woke up thinking about some of the most fulfilling, tender morning sex with Dammon. I definitely think he starts by teasing with his tail until you're nice and wet for him.
WOW such filth sent on our lord's day, thanksgiving?????
just kidding i love it and you for this absolutely a++ message
this got away from me for a bit and what i originally intended to be just a small response to you became a weird drabble/HC mix lol
so just a warning it gets even dirtier below the cut. MDNI/18+
Dammon is the KING of tail play, imho. And and and I think he would totally have a thing for (consensual) somnophilia.
Him waking up before you, watching you sleep so peacefully, his heart so full of love and adoration that he can't help but want to touch you? *chef's kiss*
Him starts off innocently enough, just a light caress to satiate his urge for physical contact, but then realizes he wants more. So he reaches out with his tail to stroke you (let's be real, you're already naked - there's no way you're ever in his bed with all your clothes on), a little smile on his face as he notices your hips start to unconsciously rock against him.
He's not even slightly embarrassed when you wake up, he's just hungry for more more more, so he lets you continue to roll your hips against his tail while he brings you in for a soft kiss. You know those lazy kisses where you're just moving your lips in sync, unhurried, smiling against each other's lips? Yeah, one of those.
His tail is soaked and the sound is makes as you grind against it is debauched in the best way. He loves the feeling of his tail covered in your slickness. But eventually he pulls away, because he needs you spread on his cock. Like right now.
He would take you any way and still be happy, but he decides on pulling you onto his lap to have you sink down on him until he's fully seated inside you. He sits up so that you two can be chest to chest while he languidly thrusts up into you, in that way where he's not even pulling out, just pushing in again and again because he wants to be so close you melt into one.
You don't break from his mouth until you're close, and he's close too after having worked himself up with the tail play. When he cums like this, he holds onto your hips almost so tight they bruise and uses his grip to somehow push you down on his cock even further.
The feeling of his spend inside you makes you cum too, clenching around him. It's so tight that he can't help but to whine a bit as you milk his oversensitive cock even more. You're both a mess of cum and sweat at this point.
But LBR Dammon is going to be a gentleman and help you clean that up....with his tongue of course. And if you cum again, he'll just have to help clean that up too.
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hannieehaee · 7 months
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18+ / mdi
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content: friends to lovers, sub!seungkwan, sub!reader (but not as much as him lbr), smut, f reader, non penetrative sex, grinding, too many run on sentences, etc.
wc: 1521
masterlist
bestfriend!seungkwan and you, who have insane underlying sexual tension that neither of you is willing to talk about but everyone else can see.
the way you two jokingly argue with each other, constantly scolding the other one second, and cuddling chest-to-chest the next.
kwannie who envies any type of attention you give his members because you're HIS best friend and you should be doting to him only.
kwannie who gets annoyed at the sight of you giggling endlessly at chan's jokes and unknowingly flirting with vernon, who doesnt realize his best friend is in love with you and is wishing him a very inconvenient evening for even daring to steal you away in his presence.
kwannie who gets fed up of watching you go to yet another member and strike up conversation (flirting with mingyu ?? seriously ?) from afar and drags you away under the vice of 'why are you hogging my friends? get your own!' and leads you to a more secluded area.
you, annoyed (but not really) at his antics, start to pick a fight with him, enjoying the unserious back and forth you tend to have with each other.
it's all going as usual; both of you still in denial about the tension between you and the reason for your constant discomfort at seeing the other in near proximity to anyone else. that is, until things take a shift.
the atmosphere seems different somehow. this time, kwannie seems to be taking your lighthearted flirting with his members to heart; something that you had never encountered in your years of friendship.
"why are you always flirting with them?", he whines. "do you think its fun watching MY best friend ditch me the moment she sees a pretty boy walk by? what about me??"
this is now a good ten minutes into the argument. one that is usually light-hearted enough to take place in front of the other members and ends in the members teasing seungkwan about his dependency on your attention. this time, however, seemed different.
"what about you, kwannie? you know it doesnt mean anything. theyre my friends too, they know its not serious," you argue back, feeling nervous at the serious tone of his complaints.
"its not that, its just..." he cuts himself off. "even they see it, but you dont. why is it always them? .. why wont you look my way?"
that last sentence stops you in your tracks. whatever rebuttal you had in your mind suddenly going away, not knowing how to respond.
unsure as to whether that was a confession or simple frustration at having to share his best friend, you stare blankly at him, breathing heavier than ever.
"kwannie .. of course i look at you. i love you, you're my best friend," you try to salvage the situation in the most ambiguous way you can, not knowing where this is going.
he lets out a heavy sigh, looking down at your shoes, unwilling to make eye contact with you, something very unlike the seungkwan you know.
"kwannie .. ?", you inquire and step towards him.
"we'll always be friends, right?", you nod at his question, urging him to continue "so it's okay if i talk freely? we'll always be there for each other, right?", he asks rhetorically, nodding at his own question to reassure himself.
he takes a deep breath as he walks towards you. "you know .. jeonghan hyung told me over and over to just tell you, that you would love me regardless and that i'd never lose you. but i guess you might already have some sort of idea, don't you?", he smiles sadly at you, timidly extending his hands towards yours.
you accept the embrace of his hands and nod back; head down, feeling vulnerable at the situation.
seeing as he's already put his cards on the table (kind of), you decide to walk the rest of the way for him.
you step forward and run your hands from his hands to his arms to his shoulders, closing any distance between you. he seems slightly surprised at what seems to be your reciprocation, but quickly recovers, not wanting to ruin the tender moment.
like in any teenage movie, you both stare down at each other's lips, breathing heavily at the thought of finally getting something you've wanted for years.
you make the first move and softly press your lips against his, causing you both to instantly moan against each other's mouths. it escalates quickly after that. with mouths open, and tongues desperate to get a taste of one another. your hands moving from his shoulders to his hair, pulling him as close as possible. his landing on your waist, finding their way under your shirt softly but desperately scratching at your skin.
your kiss becomes so needy and desperate it's almost impossible to call it a kiss anymore. incessant moaning into each other's mouths and spit covering both your lips. your resolve breaks first, causing you to push him into the nearest surface, which takes form of a sofa bed located behind seungkwan. you push him down, readily straddling his waist and pressing yourself even closer to him.
if seungkwan had any thoughts in his mind prior to you kissing him, theyre even further gone now. he has no control of himself as he runs his hands all over your back, wanting to remain respectful of any boundaries you may have, but going insane at your lips on his and your crotch laying so so closely to his.
you take notice of his desperation and pull off your shirt, making sure to take your bra off with it. you receive a reaction you had only ever dreamed of before.
seungkwan's desire and desperation are clear in his eyes, with his eyebrows furrowed and a whine escaping his mouth at the view of his best friend's chest bare in front of him.
"p-please, god. fuck. can i- please. please let me ..." he whines nonsensically, hands and mouth nearing your tits but not quite touching them before getting your permission.
with no verbal answer you grab his hands and fondle your own breasts with them, moaning at his whines and pleas to get his mouth on them; something which he does soon after.
grinding your crotch against the very obvious bulge in his navy shorts, you whine at the stimulation from his mouth desperately licking your tits, teeth softly pulling at the sensitive buds as he whines at the taste of your skin.
"kwannie .. fuck kwannie dont stop fuck please ..." you breathe out, shoving his face closer to your chest, grinding even faster.
despite your frustration at wanting even more pleasure from seungkwan's body, you disconnect yourself from him to remove your pants and instruct him to remove the rest of his clothes. he whines at the sudden interruption, but hurries to undress himself as soon as he sees you expectantly watch him with just your panties on, wanting you back on him as soon as humanly possible.
with now only two thin layers separating you and seungkwan, you feel the pressure of his dick against your clit even more, causing you to whine into his open mouth.
you know your grinding may be more pleasurable for you than for him, but the pleasure makes you so delirious you cant bring yourself to stop, grinding even faster and shoving your tongue in his mouth, hands harshly grabbing onto his shoulders for better accuracy in the rutting of your hips.
"kwannie- fuck please i promise i- shit. i'll do whatever you want, just let me- please let me finish. it feels so fucking good," you cry, speeding up even more, completely drunk in the feeling of your clit deliciously grinding against his pulsing length.
he seems to not mind it, even helping you meet your undoing by grabbing onto your hips and pushing them against his crotch in order to optimize your pleasure. his mouth is open, letting out whines at the thought of all the pleasure he's causing you by just sitting there.
unbeknownst to you, seungkwan is also nearing his end, felling insane pleasure at the friction caused from the canting of your hips against his. he's the first to find his high, whining into your neck as your never ending grinding continues its course atop his sensitive dick.
it's soon after that you also reach your high and deflate against his warm chest, weakly running your hands into his hair, pulling him for an uncharacteristically sweet peck.
"thank you," you breathe against his cheek. "i wasnt sure where that argument was going, but im glad it ended here," you giggle as you feel his chest shake from his own chuckle.
"sorry i was so dramatic, but i guess it worked in both of our favours so .. you're welcome," he jokes, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.
after a few more teasing comments back and forth, you help clean each other up with whatever wipes and tissues are at your disposal and dress yourselves back up.
it was safe to say that after this, flirting with his members was strictly prohibited.
a/n: i love seungkwan more than life itself which is why i feel kinda bad writing such filth abt him but i also want him so bad so .. anyways this was not proofread bc im too lazy to reread this many words over again. pls lmk if theres anything that makes zero sense that i should change tho <3
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soleilnomoon · 11 months
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hey miss kaia 😼 I wasn’t sure if I should message you or send it this way butttt I’d love a strawberry-mango mai tai (crocodile or shanks) w/ songs 12, 15, and 23 from the playlist 👩🏾‍💻
hiiiii bb 🥰️ ty for requesting! i am so so sorry this took so long, but it’s here at last. also this was my first time writing crocodile, so i was v excited and wrote more than necessary but lbr i’m a long-winded mfer ok, that’s just how it is there’s no cure unfortunately; anyway i like how it turned out and if i kept writing we’d be here forever ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
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2.1k words (don’t look at me), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff if you count him not choking her as fluff & smut (and angst that u didn’t ask for but i gave it to u bc i’m unwell like that 😊; feat. post-time skip crocodile in denial (he’s king of it clearly), reader who is (rightfully) in her feelings abt everything, smoking, established relationship, exes 2 lovers bc that’s my jam, a lil bit of miscommunication, crocodile is bad at emotions and reader is too emotional — they’re perfect for each other obvy — rough sex, is it considered knife play if he has a hook (asking 4 a friend), a lot of kissing (hello romance), probably other stuff but idr. crocodile comes w. his own damn warning tbqh. reader sippin that clown girl juice like a champ, i’m proud <3
(if u see spelling/grammar mistakes no u didn’t 💕)
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it’s late at night when he arrives at your doorstep; you’re in the middle of flipping through a magazine, the ceiling fan silent and slow, the heat a little more than tolerable as you sip a cool drink. you have no intention of entertaining anyone, but when you recognize the heaviness behind the loud knocks, you make an exception.
of course, you do, there’s no other choice but to do so.
sir crocodile is a man that takes, and takes, and takes without remorse; there’s an insatiable greed — hunger, rather — that he can’t seem to satisfy. or maybe it’s that he’s been denying himself for years and it’s finally become too much for him. a small, quiet buzz infiltrates your body when you yank open the door. you half expect to find someone else there, so you stare openly, disbelief and shock holding you in place.
he peers down at you when you stand there and don’t bother to invite him inside. he knows his presence is probably more than you can handle, but he’s a selfish man and his time is very limited right now. with a subtle nod of his head, almost as if he’s telling — no, commanding — you to let him in; he’s always been like that, wordless commands that he expects to be followed without question.
if you had more sense, you’d slam the door in his face. but sadly, you don’t.
you try not to appear too affected, but as crocodile walks inside, dark eyes taking a sweeping glance around your modest living space, you suddenly remember how to speak.
“h-how did you find me?” your voice is much too soft and timid, something he clicks his tongue at, annoyance slightly bubbling underneath his skin. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s much too taken by your beauty — something he tried to forget but was wholly unsuccessful.
he doesn’t spare you another glance as he hangs up his coat, doesn’t bother asking for permission before he rummages through the cabinets in your kitchen to pour himself a drink, and doesn’t think anything of his overly familiar actions in a home that doesn’t belong to him when he makes himself comfortable on one of the plush armchairs in the living room.
you scurry after him, steps soft and hurried, the smoke from his cigar wafting towards you the closer you get. he tilts his head back and exhales deeply, eyes closed as he blows smoke above him — a heady, intoxicating scent that triggers memories of the nights you spent with him before.
not that it matters, but crocodile’s nerves got the best of him before he arrived; he hasn’t seen you in two and a half years, and he always wondered if someone finally snatched you up. he told himself, a long time ago, that he would wreck whatever relationship you found yourself in anyway, but the uncertainty still lingered.
do you still care for him like you claimed you always would?
it’s a question he refuses to ask you because he’s convinced that the answer will ruin his plans no matter what your response is.
when you finally snap out of that momentary stupor, you stand in front of him, eyes glossy, as if you’re holding back years’ worth of tears. but somehow, you both fall back into the same routine you swore you’d never go back to — you straddle his lap, shorts riding up your plush thighs, his golden hook cold as he uses it to lift your chin up.
you remind yourself to keep focused, to not fall for his charm again. you don’t tell him that you’ve stayed single this whole time, mostly because everyone who came into your life after him didn’t compare.
“i hate the smell of smoke,” you declare boldly, voice strained, and maybe a little needy — even though you closely press yourself to him, even though you’re shamelessly rubbing yourself against him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. an inescapable, irritating heat passes through him, threatening to burn him alive; already his cock gets stiff when you move on him like that. if he had a bit more sense in him, he’d just leave right now.
but old habits die hard, and for some reason, your presence alone throws him off completely.
in a good way. even though he claims otherwise.
he reminds himself that he’s only here to talk as he runs his large hand along your thigh, admiring the smoothness of your skin — the sensation oddly calming to him. the feel of his rings along the back of your thigh triggers a vivid memory that makes you inhale sharply — you remember that the last time you saw him, you were on your knees and gagging on his cock. that night he fucked you like he knew he’d never see you again; you remember how you felt like melting into him every time he buried his cock deeply in your cunt.
you want to hate him all over and never think about him again.
except you can’t, can you?
there’s a brief pause before he takes another drag from his cigar; and when he lets the silence hang for longer than necessary, you find it hard to breathe.
“and i hate liars,” crocodile says finally, conveniently forgetting that he’s a notorious liar himself. you blush and turn your face at the hidden meaning behind his words — a poor attempt to deny it — but when you look back at him, he blows smoke above your head and fixes you with a pointed look.
an absurd thought occurs, making you curl your fingers as you tug on his shirt and finally question his reappearance. jealousy coils itself tightly around your legs, making your movements sluggish and ineffective. unbecoming, utterly childish, and unavoidable — but you know he won’t listen to that sort of rhetoric. not after being away from you for so long.
you lick your lips and muster enough courage to say, “i wrote to you.” several times, in fact. you figured he was either dead or didn’t want to speak to you. a part of him wants to ask if you’re serious, but from your demure demeanor, he already knows the answer.
crocodile lets out a humorless, pitying laugh.
“it must be nice to live in delusion,” he says bitterly. you look at him, confusion evident in the way you press your lips together as your brows slope down slowly — so he just sighs, defeated by your genuine naivety that he finds terribly charming. when he drags the curve of his golden hook along your jaw, your starts beating faster than necessary, the noise so loud you can barely think straight.
he knows that when he talks to you, he has to… mind how he phrases things, and while it annoys him, he does it anyway. “do you think impel down just allows former warlords the luxury of personal mail?” it’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head no anyway, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grab onto his shirt again.
guilt has a nasty habit of making him more considerate than he’d care to be, especially if that guilt comes from you. it has him putting out his cigar and tossing it onto the floor; he’s not sure who kisses who first, but his lips slant against yours and move with familiarity.
your soft whimpers are a honeyed, melodic experience; they wrap around him possessively, driving him to tear through your clothes with his hook, shredding the fabric into large, unusable pieces that languidly slide off your body. a flush settles on your skin, making you feel lightheaded — each kiss more electrifying than the last as he licks inside of your mouth, tongue stroking against yours hotly.
crocodile pulls away suddenly, already feeling like the control he’s kept is practically nonexistent because your mouth is much sweeter than he remembers. your fingers tremble slightly and a breathy moan tumbles out of you when he slaps your ass hard.
the impact is a surprise — one that has you whine pitifully, arousal dripping from your slit in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. a lust-induced haze circles around him, nearly clouding his vision as you unbutton his shirt, fingers roaming against his stomach, exploring the dips and grooves between his abs. your touch is much too gentle for a man like him; he knows you deserve better, but he’s too selfish to tell you that. his cock is stiff and heavy in his pants; you relieve that ache as soon as you tug his zipper down and wrap your soft hands around him.
he watches you, amused at your focus and determination when you stroke him faster; and while he’d like to take his time with you, he doesn’t have that luxury tonight. he grabs onto your wrist, halting your movements quickly before biting your lower lip and kissing you greedily; it’s all-consuming, scalding, and possessive.
you should ask him why he’s kissing you like that when he has no intention of staying, but you know it would be an unfair question given his circumstances.
still, your curiosity eats you alive, although not for long.
he lifts you with ease and you sink down onto his thick cock, pussy tight and warm. part of what kept him sane while he was in prison was thinking of you and how much he missed being with you like this — another truth he refuses to reveal, deciding to suffer through the consequences of another failed confession on his part.
you scratch at the skin on the back of his neck the moment he bucks his hips against yours, burying most of his cock inside of you. his thrusts are quick and brutal; you do your best to match his movements, moaning loudly as he wraps an arm around you. he kisses down the length of your neck, teeth grazing your skin roughly as he bites and sucks on your skin harshly. you know there’ll be bruises and marks in the morning, but you don’t care.
all you care about is enjoying this moment with him, one that you’ll commit to memory forever.
his name comes out of your mouth sweetly, like a rhythmic and lyrical poem you crafted for him specifically. he shouldn’t care about any of that, but he can’t stop himself; and maybe he’s just tired of denying it. he tells himself that when he fucks you harder, breasts bouncing and rubbing against his hard chest; he tells himself that when he angles his hips, thrusts frenzied and powerful.
sweat glides down your skin and the heat threatens to suffocate you, both of you are panting and moaning in between kisses. you doubt your poor little heart can take much more of this, but you power through anyway. and maybe it’s because you’re tugging on his hair roughly, almost impatiently, but he takes that as a challenge, holding you steady as his cock bullies into your wet cunt. between the lewd, squelching sounds coming from your pussy and the way he simply can’t stop kissing you — like there’s a thirst he can’t seem to quench, no matter how many times he fucks you — a warmth spreads through your chest.
unbeknownst to you, though, he’s going through something similar; he realizes, belatedly, that he might not be able to let you go after this. impossible thoughts pummel through his mind, ones that he desperately tries to shove aside. intimacy and vulnerability are deadly, in his opinion, but he decides to make an exception for you — and only you.
you cum unexpectedly, hips bucking against his wildly, pussy clenching around his thick girth without remorse. you actually feel your heart skip a beat, like you’re in some romance novel, when he calls out your name — his own orgasm finding him shortly after, thrusts slowing, his cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you.
your legs turn to jelly, making it impossible to move right away, so you slump against him weakly and take deep breaths to calm yourself. he closes his eyes briefly and runs his hand up and down your back; here’s another opportune moment to say something, to say anything, but he swallows back the words, instead opting to kiss your forehead softly.
“you’re an impossible man,” you say with a sigh, blinking as you look up at him; he raises a brow at that, but doesn’t offer a rebuttal. “don’t break my heart.” you jab a finger at his chest, but your features soften when he chuckles at your demand.
another long silence follows, before crocodile speaks again, voice low, but certain as he says, “alright, i won’t.”
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turtleblogatlast · 2 months
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Do you ship any of the turtles with anyone? or do you ship anything in rise at all?
(This ended up being a lot longer an answer than I intended hoo boy sorry about that)
Hmmm, I’m not too big a shipper tbh! Especially since I really enjoy canon interactions backing my ships, so it’s hard for me to actively like any that don’t really have that going for them. There’s plenty that I see around that I think are cute, but that’s usually the extent of my thought process for them.
For ships I more actively have, I guess I like AprilxSunita! They’re very very cute and I think they have some huge meet cute energy in their first episode together, and their chemistry is genuinely adorable (plus them being featured means more April screentime which is ALWAYS a good thing.)
I also think AprilxCasey (and when I say Casey I mean our OG girl) is really good, as I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers, and I think they have a lot in common and just bounce off each other very well (not to mention this ship in other iterations of TMNT has a loooooot going for it.)
Keeping the chain going, I think RaphxCasey (again, OG Casey) is also one with a tonnnnn of potential. They have a lot of common characteristics, and considering Raph’s whole thing with Franken-Foot, I really think there’s a lot of room there for a relationship to develop. Plus, like AprilxCasey, Raph and Casey tend to have a close relationship throughout the iterations of TMNT and it would be great to see that more with these two, even if not romantically.
Actually going back to enemies to lovers, I unironically think there’s a ton going for DonniexKendra. I know a lot of people hate this ship, but I don’t and I actually think it could very easily work whether in a love-hate way or a slow burn way. There’s a lot to like here and honestly they’re good together! Kendra is legit Donnie’s type too haha (cute, but mean.)
Lastly, SplinterxDraxum is good…when done right. I really like when people take it and don’t undermine the very real trauma that Splinter has gone through. As I’ve stated a lot, I love me some enemies to lovers, so I can see the potential here. Plus lbr Draxum was down BAD for Lou Jitsu when he first saw him haha.
I think that’s the extent to what I actively like? Everything else usually falls into “aw cute” or “ehhh not for me thanks”. And before you ask YES leosagi is cute and I’ll read fics with it if the premise is appealing, but I’m afraid I need some canon interactions to establish base character dynamics before I actively ship it alas.😔 Super cute though, no hate to it or any of the other CanonxCharacter-they’ve-never-met ships, I genuinely think people should just have fun! And for what it’s worth I really do wish we got a Usagi and Leo interaction in Rise like we have in other iterations.:(
So yeah. Overall, I have a few ships I enjoy, but I fall much more in the “prefer to keep everyone to themselves and make the focus family and friendship” category.
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bugheadcentral · 4 months
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Well hello there! What better way to start off 2024 than by celebrating the couple who has always always existed and WILL always exist?! Um. There isn't one. I miss them. You miss them. Lbr they miss each other, so let's pay homage to true love in the murder capital of the world round the season of love.
Please tag #bughead appreciation week in your posts so they can be reblogged. (You can also tag #bugheadcentral, but one is fine).
Your created content can feature other characters, but it needs to be focused on the Blue and Gold's finest Betty x Jughead.
All prompts listed below have been designed for all content creators—artists, edit/gif makers, fic writers, playlist makers & so on.
All content must be original (no re-posting of any kind).
Bughead Appreciation Week will run from Saturday, 10 February - Friday, 16 February.
SCHEDULE
Day 1 (10 Feb) 🔹 Tropes | Emotions
Day 2 (11 Feb) 🔸 Betty Appreciation Post
Day 3 (12 Feb) 🔹 Parallels | Favorite and Underrated Moments
Day 4 (13 Feb) 🔸 Fantasy | LooksTM
Day 5 (14 Feb) 🔹 Jughead Appreciation Post
Day 6 (15 Feb) 🔸 Lyrics/Poems/Quotes
Day 7 (16 Feb) 🔹 Free Choice
Please feel free to interpret the prompts however you see fit! If you don't like these prompts? No problem, feel free to create your own. We're just here to appreciate and celebrate Nancy Drew and True Detective, whatever that looks like for you! And feel free to post as much or little as you'd like!
Looking forward to another week celebrating these two who literally saved multiple universes and seeing what we all create! 💙💛
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the way he came real close to one of laios desperate plans while sleep deprived and hangry several chapters in advance.. he really does know laios huh.
my tags got too long so here they are under the cut
Even tho he wanted to sleep he probs was still listening to everything laios has to say. Bc he is Always Listening and Observing
Interesting in the context of how laios wants someone to understand him - to see him as he is but also the ways in which hes afraid of rejection and being seen as less than human but lacking the monstrousness to retaliate and lash out without regret bc then it would be The natural order of things but hell never be a monster he can only be a human being
but i think part of the reason shuro got so mad is bc he was putting all this effort into being considerate and feeling he got none in return. i think he wanted to be seen too! But i think he overlooked how he feels safe enough to express his rawest feelings w laios
But also i think laios was the first relationship shuro did not just let fizzle out at the first sign of interpersonal difficulty. bc lbr in this manner hes a coward. Disgusted by maizuru being his fathers mistress ? Dont talk it out n continue letting her treat him like a child while ignoring her. concerned hien and him will turn out like maizuru and his father—just let the friendship drift apart w time. concerned abt how inutade views her retainership when he knows his father just sees her as an oddity—dont say shit n just stew in it 5eva
passive aggression warrior!!!
Also interesting laios is like if we can make her monstrousness more manageable maybe she can live among ppl…the projection
The part at the end where toshiros like I know his gait from the sound of the bell by heart so i 100% know its him. he was listening the whole time! like a second heartbeat. Very metaphorical for their relationship. its a challenging relationship for the both of them but they dont give it up bc they care about each other.
thats love honestly i was genuinely moved by the interplay of toshiro laios n kabrus relationship. that laios promises hell eat w kabru on his terms even tho kabru wasnt upfront abt the monster thing initially giving him a motive to return. and how shuro gave him the bell as a promise hed bring him back to the surface no matter what. And he fulfills it even when laios leaves the bell behind bc he knows him so well To the surface and live among other ppl.
bc laios whole life he felt like he couldnt understand other ppl and they couldnt understand him even tho he wanted that connection that seemed so easy to everyone else
but thru kabru and shuro we see that no one in the world understands anyone else completely- thats why they enter the story w awful first impressions. As well as like well. Thats probs how laios comes off to other ppl
shuro calls him back bc the two as his peers are like u already have connections who value you (shuro) and deep connections youve yet to make w ppl who will be important to u going forward (kabru) and theyll both challenge and change deep seated issues about themselves to keep their connection w u alive
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