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#GRANT ON UM ACTUALLY AGAIN

honeyhotteoks · 5 months

Text

always only you (c.sc)

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

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

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

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date.

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

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

You just wish you never told Mingyu.

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

Stupid.

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

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

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

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

You do fast math, panic math.

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

Your stomach churns.

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

He’s gone before you can say thank you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blinks, “y/n,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red.

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

“I know,”

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“I know,” You sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” You breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand tightens on yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” He sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

He grimaces, “Ugh,”

“Exactly,”

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

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

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

“You want to come up?”

“If you don’t mind,”

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

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

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

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

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

“So,” He clears his throat lightly.

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then he laughs again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, “I remember,”

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

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

“Mm,” You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes flick over you and then he nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already.

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

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

“God,” He shivers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,”

“And you wanted me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently.

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

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

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

“Can I eat you out?”

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little.

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course,” You kiss him back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything you are is trembling in his hands.

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

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

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

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open.

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

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

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

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

He sighs, “This pussy,”

“Cheol,” You blush hard.

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

“Anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want him inside you so badly you could cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your muscles clench down around his fingers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,”

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods, just a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n,” He pants tightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes slam shut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

You laugh against him, “Next time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good,” He sighs.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you could rally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go?” He asks.

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

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

“You what,” You blink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

Make It Worth It

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: So many okay; body worship, HEAVY praise, multiple orgasms, oral (f,m receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, hella petnames, fingering, kinda marking too, oh and cockwarming, a lil bit of a jealousy thing going, vague mentions of injuries

Genre: fluff & smut

Summary: The idea of you going on a date makes your friend confess feelings you didn't know they had

***

Meeting Marc Spector was something you'd consider a total fluke. A mishap with his suit had him limping down the street hardly able to hold himself up. Against... probably your better judgment, you brought him to your apartment- patched him up, got him some food, and let him crash on your couch. He was gone before you woke up in the morning and you honestly expected never to see him again. A couple of weeks later though he popped by to say thank you and introduce himself, you told him he could stop by if he needed help again. You didn't think he'd take you up on the offer but you were fast friends as you became his only confidante. Apparently, the vigilante life is not conducive to friendships, especially when you share your life with another; Steven Grant.

It was a while before Marc told you about Steven and you liked to call him Marc's best kept secret, considering Steven doesn't even know about it. It took even longer for you to meet Steven. Another mishap with Marc's suit had him frantically banging on your balcony door one night. You pulled open the door and he'd practically fallen into your apartment.

"Y/n! Hey!" He groaned.

"Jeez! I thought that stupid bird was meant to protect you Marc!" You crossed your arms.

"Help now, be mad later. Oh! And if I wake up and I'm not me, lie." He barely got the last bit out before he practically fell on you.

"Heavens above you still haven't told him the truth?" You groaned technically to yourself as you shoved a now unconscious Marc onto your couch. Even with him passed out you'd gotten more than enough practice patching him up that you had it so down that you were quick and efficient. He was out for quite some time afterwards, you even made dinner before he suddenly startled awake.

"Who are you? Where am I? What are you doing here?" The unfamiliar British accent immediately told you that night that Steven had woken up instead of Marc.

"Um- this is my apartment so that's where you are, I live here so that's what I'm doing here and my name is y/n. You're Steven right?"

"How did you know my name?" He'd looked at you suspiciously.

"I- I looked at your wallet for ID?" He does have his wallet on him so that lie was totally believable.

"Well why am I here?"

That was the question you were dreading from the moment Marc passed out on you.

"You were hurt so I brought you here."

"Hurt? Hurt how?"

"I- I didn't see it happen. You were hurt when I got to you." You shrugged. It wasn't technically a lie. You didn't see Marc get hurt. The answer seemed to satisfy Steven at the time but maintaining separate friendships with Marc and Steven wasn't something you wanted to keep up long term. Hence, with some gentle nudging, Marc eventually revealed himself to Steven and you ended up having to help the duo navigate the new dynamic.

However, where you thought Steven was Marc's best kept secret; a new player had him beaten. A secret so well kept Marc didn't even know until after you did. And his name was Jake Lockley. Meeting him had actually happened intentionally on his end. Apparently tired of watching the back and forth between you and his alters he stepped in to meet you himself. You'll admit you and Marc toed the line pretty much since you met, flirting with each other but not obvious enough to change your dynamic, and once Steven got comfortable with you it was only too fun to tease him. So in came Jake; the hidden protector, questioning you and ultimately deciding you were safe for them to be around. He even trusted you enough to facilitate his introduction to the other two. Now you've got the whole trio you can call friends and they often tell you how instrumental they consider you in maintaining stability in their shared life. You really enjoy having them around most of the time even with how chaotic it can be covering for, patching up, and keeping track of their system.

Tonight, while you're finishing your makeup for a date, you hear a knock from the living room. You're not expecting anyone right now so when you leave your room and find Moonknight on your balcony you're not exactly surprised. You open the door and the suit disappears as he walks into your apartment.

"What're you all dressed up for?" Marc asks taking in your outfit.

"Hello to you too Marc." You roll your eyes.

"Hello. What're you all dressed up for?"

"I have a date tonight." You say with a shrug heading back to your room knowing Marc will follow you.

"A date? What date? You didn't tell me about any date."

"I don't have to tell you about dates."

"Why wouldn't you tell me though?"

"It's a first date Marc I'm not getting married. You're making it a much bigger deal than it is."

"It is a huge deal. You haven't been on a date since we met!"

"Thank you for pointing out that Marc yes this is my first date in a while. Did you come here for a reason? Doesn't that bird of yours have errands for you?"

"I always come here when I'm done with Khonshu's stuff. This is why it's a big deal you didn't tell me about this date. It throws off our routine!"

"Marc you coming here to eat my food after running around for skelo-bird is not set in stone."

"It is set in stone. If it wasn't we wouldn't do it every time."

"Well it's still early, so when I finish my date I'll text you and you can come back over and your routine will be fine."

"That's not the same."

"I dunno what to tell you sweetie, I have to leave, I'm meeting this guy in like 10 minutes."

"Don't go."

"Marc!"

"Come ooon I'm way more fun than whoever this random guy is anyway."

"You don't even know him."

"Neither do you. So stay."

"Let me get this straight, you want me to cancel my first date in over a year because it's more important that we watch a movie while you eat leftovers? Call me crazy but I'd personally rank those a little differently."

"I want you to cancel your first date in over a year because I don't want you to go on a date."

"Okay I know we're close but I feel like that's crossing a line a little bit. That's not really up to you."

"Princessa, are you intentionally misunderstanding him?" Jake's sudden appearance only further confuses you.

"No Jake. I genuinely have no idea what the deal is here and at this rate, I'm going to be late so one of you better start talking straight."

"He's jealous. He doesn't want you going on a date with anyone that's not... us, really. None of us do."

"All of this is about a crush? Bring Marc back out here." You roll your eyes.

"Look I did not send Jake out here to speak for me!"

"You are such a dunce." You smack his chest lightly.

"What?!"

"You don't want me to go on this date because you three like me and you couldn't just say that?"

"I dunno I guess I just didn't want to risk what we've already got, as friends." He says sheepishly.

"Say the words."

"What?"

"Say exactly why you don't want me going on this date and I'll cancel."

"I don't want you to go on this date because I have feelings for you. Stay home. I can make it worth it in any way you ask."

"Any way that I ask?"

"I'll worship you like a god if you want me to."

"Won't that make that silly old bird of yours a little jealous?"

"Let him be if he is. All that matters is you not going on this date and me showing you my gratitude."

"Alright, I'll call and cancel the date."

"Don't bother. Who cares if he gets ghosted?"

"First of all, I'm nice so I care; secondly that's the shit that gets women stalked."

"Oh please, as if he'd ever be able to hurt you with us around." Marc scoffs.

"Okay, bodyguard. The call will take less than two minutes and you'll have my attention the rest of the night." You say grabbing your phone and stepping into the living room. You notice Marc following you as you call your date.

"Hello?"

"Lewis! Hi, I'm sorry to do this so last minute but something has come up and I'm not going to be able to make it to dinner."

"Oh. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

"Uh- thanks but I'll be fine! I just gotta take care of a thing and I didn't wanna leave you sitting there waiting."

"Yeah no, thanks for letting me know. We can reschedule."

"Sure! Soon as I get a handle on things I'll reach out to reschedule." You say, ignoring the look Marc gives you.

"Alright no problem. Good luck with your thing." Lewis says before hanging up.

"You aren't actually rescheduling with him, are you?" Marc asks you.

"Probably not." You shrug.

"Probably?!"

"I already canceled the date for you once."

"You making this hard for me on purpose sweetheart?"

"Not at all. Just not sure how things are gonna go." You smile.

"How things are gonna go? I'm gonna show you that canceling that silly date was the right idea and that you don't need anyone other than us."

"Us? Steven and Jake are in on this too?"

"Of course they are."

"Well, that's a big promise Marc, how do you plan to show me all of that?"

"I'm going to start by kissing you. Is that okay?" Marc asks, pulling you towards him with an arm around your waist.

"Absolutely." You say draping your arms over his shoulder. Marc's free hand comes up behind your head as he kisses you hard. You gasp against his lips and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Without warning, Marc lifts you into his arms and easily carries you back to your room, not even phased when you pull away from the kiss to squeal. He tosses you onto your bed and climbs over you with a smile.

"You have no idea how crazy we are about you." Marc breathes out, trailing kisses down to your neck.

"Crazy about me? Is that right?" You ask, a moan punctuating your question as Marc latches onto a particularly sensitive spot to turn purple.

"Completely." He says softly, staring at you so intently you pull him towards you for another kiss to escape the look in his eyes. Marc pulls away to tug your already bunched up dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties as he looks you over. "Fucking hell you're even more gorgeous than I could've imagined." Marc groans.

"You spend a lot of time thinking about me naked darling?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought as you take the moment of silence on his end to pull his shirt over his head and drag your nails down his chest appreciatively.

"I plead the fifth." Marc groans and moves to litter your chest in more patches of red and purple as he reaches under you to unhook your bra. His hands cover your breasts as soon as they're free, palms kneading the flesh while fingers toy with nipples. The sudden onslaught of stimulation has little whimpers falling from your lips that Marc decides he can't get enough of. He pulls one of your nipples between his lips, sucking, nipping, and tonguing at it to test your reactions, discovering all the sounds you make from this alone. "You make such cute little noises." He chuckles switching from one nipple to the other, pulling all the same sounds from you. Eventually, Marc trails his kisses down your stomach, soft and slow, like he has all the time in the world. "So pretty." He whispers. He pulls your panties down your legs, kissing your thighs on the way down and back up. "I'm so going to enjoy this." Marc says before burying his head between your legs. He licks a hard stripe between your folds that makes you moan and his arms wrap around your thighs before you can even squirm. Marc's tongue swirls around your clit as he watches you, testing what pulls the best reaction from you. When a certain rhythm has your fingers tugging at his hair he settles into it, intent on making you cum like that. Whimpers and cries fall from your lips in quick succession as he sucks and laps at your sensitive bundle of nerves. You writhe and grind against him, although his grip on your thighs restricts your movement as he works you quickly towards an orgasm.

"Holy fuck Marc!" You groan, throwing your head back and pulling almost too hard at his curls but the man between your legs only lets out a pleased growl at the action. "Fuck I'm close." You pant out and Marc wraps his lips securely around your clit, sucking harshly until your legs tense and your orgasm crashes into you with a silent scream. Marc doesn't even let you fully ride out the high before his fingers slide into your opening. He curls the two digits just right and you can feel the pull in your abdomen when he brushes the spot inside you. Your back arches into him as he works you open with his fingers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. Your second orgasm hits you faster than the first your entire body twitching while you let out the prettiest whine Marc's ever heard.

"My goodness." Although the voice is muted in your pleasure fogged brain, you don't miss the accent in his words.

"Steven?!" You blink at him, chest still heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. His eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in the situation he's just been thrown into.

"Hi. I can't imagine Marc did this on purpose I-" Steven's words trail as his head snaps to the mirror hanging on your closet door. "He did this on purpose." Steven looks at you and then back at the mirror. "Why would you do that Marc?!" You pull his gaze back to you by grabbing his chin,

"Steven, calm down." You say.

"Clearly I've missed a lot because how did you two even end up like this?" Steven asks and your giggle at his confusion quickly turns into a whimper when the action makes you distinctly aware of his fingers still buried inside you. "My god, help me." Steven breathes out at the sound from your lips. "If this was your act of gratitude why am I here?!" Steven asks to the mirror and you suppose Marc told him how you, in his words, ended up like this. Steven makes a face at whatever Marc says next and then turns to you with a look you can only describe as curious. Before you can question it, his fingers inside you move tentatively, making you moan. He's less sure of himself than Marc had been but he watches intently as he slowly strokes your inner walls, enjoying the way you react to him. "You're absolutely breathtaking."

"And you, are simply adorable." You say bringing him down to kiss him. Steven is obviously much more nervous than Marc was and you take the lead in the kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips as you explore his mouth with your tongue. It seems your reactions feed his confidence as his fingers gain speed the longer you kiss him and soon you're moaning too much to actually do it properly.

"I love the sounds you make." Steven sighs. You pull his fingers from you before he can make you cum again and he pouts at you until you guide the fingers between your lips. You suck them clean, enjoying the way Steven takes a shaky breath at the action. You use one hand to undo his jeans and pull them down his legs, pulling his fingers out of his mouth for him to get up and shove them the rest of the way down with his boxers. You lean forward and take Steven into your mouth, swallowing him down as far as you can.

"Oh god." Steven groans and his eyes roll as he tosses his head back. You bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue as you go, enjoying the way he moans and shivers.

"I love the sounds you make too darling." You hum dragging your tongue along the vein that runs the underside length of his dick. Steven hisses and you wrap your lips around him again.

"Holy hell you're... really good at this." Steven's praise is breathy and stuttery. You take him all the way into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. Rather suddenly, you feel his fingers in your hair tugging you off of him.

"Now, it was my understanding that we were meant to be showing you gratitude." Your ears perk up hearing the accent change.

"Jake, yeah so I've been told." You hum.

"And yet here you are pleasing Steven instead of him worshiping you." Jake's thumb rubs along your bottom lip.

"Steven is just so much fun to tease." You smile.

"Tease him later princessa, tonight is about you. How lucky we are to have you in our life. How much of an honor it is to kiss you, to touch you, to please you." Jake intentionally speaks slowly, staring at you intently.

"You are... very good with words." You muse.

"Have our actions not supported them?"

"Marc definitely, and Steven- before I got my hands on him, yes. You however haven't done anything but talk." You smirk at him.

"Tell me what you want from me and it's yours. Anything you ask." Jake says.

"In other circumstances that would be... a dangerous promise to make. But tonight, I just want you inside me. I want you to make me cum on your dick."

"With pleasure." Jake pushes you onto your back and tugs your legs to pull you towards him. He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you. Your back immediately arches at the fullness of Jake bottoming out and you can't help but moan. "Fuck you're so wet." He groans dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment. Jake sets a rhythm of sharp thrusts, deep but quick.

"Sh-shit Jake! Feels so good." You whine, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting and his thrusts pick up speed.

"God y/n you're perfect. So gorgeous. Taking this dick like you were made for us." Jake huffs out. One of his hands reaches between your bodies, finding your clit with ease. You squirm against his ministrations moaning as he drives into you repeatedly. "That's it princessa, moan for me, sounds so nice." He grits out, rubbing circles against your bundle of nerves. You grind against him, trying to bring your orgasm on quicker. "Cum for me sweetheart, let me feel you let go around me. Please mi vida." Jake sweetly kisses you as he practically begs for your orgasm and a few thrusts later you're falling over the edge, nails digging into his back as he watches the way pleasure washes over your face. Once your eyes slowly peel open, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and changes the pace of his thrusts, slowing down now.

"You're gonna cum inside me aren't you Jake?" You ask with a pout specifically to get what you want.

"Mierda." Jake's eyes close for a moment. "Is that what you want princessa?"

"Yes Jake, please."

"I told you I'd give you whatever you ask me for." Jake shifts slightly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, they're sloppier now as he focuses on chasing his own release. "I'll pump you so fucking full, you'll be leaking. Fuck you'll look even prettier dripping like that."

"Please Jake, give it to me. Fill me up baby." You whine, grinding against him. His hips stutter and stop buried inside you and you the warmth of his orgasm inside you makes you moan. Before Jake can twist to lay beside you, you pull him onto you comfortable with the weight of him on you. "Don't move yet, let's just- lay like this for a bit, please." You say.

"Thank fuck you didn't go on that stupid date." Jake mutters and you giggle a little.

"Thank fuck you said something or I would've."

"Well, did we make it worth the stay?" "I'd say so." "Good. After a nap you can discuss the details, probably with Steven, he'll have the most to say." Jake mumbles into your neck.

"I'll have to talk to each of you ya know." You say.

"Sure but start with him. All I have to say is I think you're perfect, and we'd be lucky if you date us."

"You're not the only lucky ones." You say kissing the side of his face. Yeah. It might have been by pure chance that you crossed paths with Marc over a year ago but you're glad the rest of your decisions landed you here. Even if it's not the trajectory you saw that first interaction leading to, definitely worth it.

***

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greenglowinspooks · 4 months

Text

Gävle Goat v.s. two drunk half-ghosts (DCxDP)

—

Tw: alcohol consumption (no way), one(1) mention of sex

Summary: Jason and Danny accidentally burn down the Gävle goat. You all voted for this, and I delivered. Merry crisis, tis the season and all that.

—

Jason wove through the ever-shifting crowd, an irritated scowl on his face.

Kori and Roy had dragged him here to celebrate a successful mission together, but the two had wandered off together not thirty minutes after they arrived, effectively stranding him in an unfamiliar club in Europe.

Now, his only two options seemed to be stealing someone’s car and getting back to their temporary safehouse himself, or waiting for the two to come back for him.

Still, considering the lecture he’d get from Dick if he hotwired a random guy’s car just because he didn’t want to wait for his friends, option one wasn’t much of an option at all.

It was humiliating. He was a crime lord, not a little kid who’d lost their mom in the store.

Jason sighed, slumping against the wall as he watched the drunken crowd swirl together.

He had never really felt at home in places like this, especially not since his resurrection. It always felt like people were staring at him, like they just intrinsically knew that he was other.

Jason startled when he felt someone tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry!” The stranger said, “I just, um, are you okay?”

Jason blinked. The person talking to him was clearly somewhat tipsy, wearing a blush on his face and a slightly loopy smile. How had he possibly snuck up on him? Was he really that deep in thought?

“My asshole friends ditched me, and now I’m stuck here,” Jason blurted out without thinking. The stranger barked out a laugh, clearly surprised.

“That sucks,” he said, leaning on the wall next to Jason. He hummed in response.

The stranger looked back at the open bar, where quite a few people were frantically miming to him. He motioned back to them, clearly hoping for them to stop, before just flipping them off. Jason chuckled at that.

“Those your friends?”

The stranger blushed brighter, the tips of his ears going red.

“Uh, yeah. We’re here to celebrate some legal stuff that I finally got done with, but, uh, they wanted me to go talk to you.”

Jason hummed again, giving the stranger a quick once-over. He was actually pretty cute; he had messy black hair, icy eyes, and an outfit that screamed “I’ve never been in a club before but my friends dragged me here anyways”.

If he was gonna be waiting for Kori and Roy anyways, why not have some fun?

“Well, I am technically here alone, now that my friends wandered off,” he said, looking at the stranger meaningfully.

The stranger grinned brightly, holding a hand out to him.

“Then, d’you wanna hang out with my friends and I? I promise we’re lot of fun! I’m Danny, by the way.”

Jason took his hand, the beginnings of a smile on his face.

“Call me Jason,” he said, following along as the (surprisingly strong) man dragged him over to his friends.

Danny was having the time of his life.

The restraining order on Vlad had finally been granted. The abolition of the Infinite Realms’ monarchy had gone through. And, on top of all that, he was on the most incredible club-hopping adventure of his un-life.

And sure, it might not have been the best idea to give ghost alcohol to Jason, the mortal his group had picked up in Germany, but he was taking it like a champ!

He hadn’t thrown up yet, in any case, so clearly it wasn’t that much of an issue.

Danny giggled, leaning up against Jason as they walked along the street, his ghostly friends filling the street.

As the night went along and they all got more and more tipsy, they’d mostly let go of their mortal forms. Despite being surrounded by a bunch of ghosts with death-blows clearly exposed and mythological creatures, Jason didn’t seem to be too bothered. He had an arm wrapped around Danny’s shoulders and was singing along with some of the ghosts in Arabic(?), his lovely baritone voice echoing out amongst the dead and unborn.

Danny just snuggled further into his side, enjoying the novel feeling of human warmth. He’d have to get Jason’s number after this, Danny sluggishly thinks. If he wasn’t freaked out by Danny being dead once he was sober, at least. He found that most people weren’t quite so open to cuddling up to a corpse. Even if that corpse could talk and walk around.

The streetlights around them began to spin as they once again walked into a rip in the veil. Everyone cheered as the lights warped and distorted, the sky becoming neon green and foggy.

Danny stumbled forward on unsteady legs, dragging Jason along with him. He wanted to get to the front of the group, to see where they were going before everyone else!

Jason tripped as Danny continued to drag him along, stumbling off the path and straight off the Realms island they were currently on. Danny, still clinging to him like a lifeline, fell alongside him.

A cheer from the spirits rang out above them, unaware of their mistake, fading as they fell. Before Danny had a chance to call out, though, they fell through another rip in the veil.

Jason sat up. He’d fallen face-first into a snowbank, and judging by the pair of legs sticking out of the snow, Danny had a similar fate. He dragged Danny out of the snow by the feet, tumbling over nothing and falling over in a heap.

Danny rolled over, laying down in the snow next to him with both arms around his waist.

Jason just looked up at the sky in awe.

It was most certainly the alcohol, or maybe the lack of pollution, but the sky looked so much more beautiful than usual.

There were so many stars in his blurry vision, and each one twinkled and shone and spun like they were dancing.

With a tremendous amount of effort, he got to his feet, dragging Danny up with him.

He twirled the man in his arms, his legs unsteady as he tried to waltz. Danny giggled, trying to match his uneven steps.

The arctic wind blew over them, carrying with it the snow and ice of the ages. The wind curled around them, spinning in circles around the pair as they danced. Sprites of fire glimmered in the corners of Jason’s vision, glimmering cheerfully. It seemed that something had caught alight, but nothing was going to distract him from the man in front of him, grinning widely with a blush that covered his entire face.

Jason fell over again, collapsing in the snow, and Danny fell over on top of him.

Light shimmered down from the snow-covered trees, falling onto Danny’s face. He scrunched his eyes closed, groaning in agony.

He was so, so hungover.

Served him right for agreeing to go out partying with Johnny of all people.

Danny’s head pounded to the beat of his heart, his core humming in rhythm. He buried his face into the fabric beneath him, trying desperately to block out the light from reaching his sensitive eyes.

Where was he, anyways?

The area around him was definitely snowy; even arctic, maybe, judging by how strongly his core was thrumming. Still, he was perfectly warm, laying on top of…

…a person?

Fuck, he was never partying with Johnny again.

Through great willpower, Danny squirmed off of the stranger and sat up, scrunching up his face as he turned away from the sun. It didn’t make his headache any better, though; the snow reflected the light almost as bright as the sun itself.

Fresh snow can have an albedo of 0.9, Danny remembered, a college lecture popping into his head. It had the highest level of albedo of anything on earth. That’s why it was bouncing the light of the sun directly into his poor sensitive eyes.

Of course Danny would wake up next to a strange man and the first thing that he thought of was science facts.

The man next to him groaned, immediately bringing his arm up to block the sun.

“What the fuck did I do last night?”

“I know, right?”

The man went abruptly still. It took all of Danny’s willpower not to laugh.

“…Do I still have my kidneys at least?”

Now Danny did burst out laughing, bright and cheery. And then he groaned and clutched his head.

“Oh gods my head hurts,” Danny hissed, “does this happen every time you drink?”

“Not unless you hate your liver.”

Danny laughed, and they both fell into silence for a few moments. It wasn’t comfortable silence by any means, though; it was unbearably tense and uncomfortable. Danny almost wished he could die on command, if only to get out of this.

“…Wanna go get breakfast?”

“Fuck yes,” Danny said, getting to his feet before helping the other man up. “Your treat?”

The other man laughed loudly.

“We’ve known each other properly for a total of five minutes, and you’re already bleeding me dry?”

“Come on, I’m a college student, it’s basically my job to ask for free food.”

The two of them sat in utter silence as they ate, watching the TV in the corner of the diner with a fascinating flavor of giddy horror.

Someone had burnt down the Gävle goat, and from the footage, it was very clearly them.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, luckily; the video had gone so staticky that it was very nearly unwatchable. But when combining the scene on the shitty box TV to Danny’s (very limited) memories of the night before, it was clear that they had done it.

“…Knew I forgot something that happened last night.”

Danny barked out a laugh at Jason’s comment, which earned him a sly grin in return.

“Better or worse than getting laid?”

“Eh,” Jason shrugged. “With most people? Better. With you? Worse.”

Danny laughed harder, wrapping a leg around Jason’s and waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, arson isn’t the worst end to a first night out.”

Jason snorted.

“By the way, are you a meta? I just assumed, with the fire and all…”

Danny looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, I thought that was you.”

“What?”

Danny summoned a small burst of wind, twirling it around in his hands, creating tiny snowflakes.

“I can do that,” he said, gesturing to the snow, “but, like, fire? Nope.”

To Danny’s utter shock, a core in front of him pulsed in confusion, his own mirroring it.

Jason’s core. Jason was dead.

Jason looked at him, his face pale.

“Did you feel that too, or am I having a heart attack?”

Danny laughed nervously.

“As long as we don’t get arrested, I promise I’ll explain everything on the way back to Germany.”

—

Notes:

If Jason really was alive, he wouldn’t be for long after drinking ghost alcohol.

I brought up albedo because I learned something new in science class. Godbles

The wisps were Jason’s core forming and activating for the first time. That’s also what got the goat

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #dead on main #dead on main pairing #merry crisis 😐👍 merry chrysler #it’s extra funny that I’m doing this because I don’t even like christmas

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 35

part 1 | part 34 | ao3

cw: Fred slander apologies to any Freds

“Okayyy,” Robin says with a shaky laugh as she points at everyone in the booth, going around the circle and introducing them in a single breath. “Amy-Tim-Vickie-Beth-Grant-Jordan-Fred, aaand Nancy. You, um, you already know— Nancy... r-right,” she stammers at Steve’s pointed glare, “so, um. Anyway!”

She grabs him by the shoulders; shoves him front and center like he’s a really cool new toy she brought to class for show-and-tell. “Everyone, this is Steve! Steve, this is—”

“You don’t have to say it again.”

“Oh, thank god.” She slides into the booth with a relieved huff, and Steve scoots in after her.

Despite the awkward tension and that bonkers introduction, everyone at the table does their best to act cool, to say hello and make him feel welcome while they wait for the band to start. Grant slides him the basket of fries, and Jordan compliments his watch, and Vickie asks if he’s coming to the last football game of the season, voice high and shy as she rambles about how ‘Robin’s solo in the halftime show is sooo good, you really should come see it!’ and wow.

Is Robin vain or something? She’s got a crush on a clone of herself.

Steve munches on fries and keeps an eye on the stage, hoping to catch Eddie before the show starts, and the whole thing’s… not so bad, actually. Kind of decent. Almost nice, until Fred fucking Benson ruins it. Steve’s saying something about the basketball team’s chances this season when the little asshole rolls his eyes and leans in to stage-whisper to Nancy loud enough for the whole table to hear, “The Hair? Seriously? What’s he even doing here?”

...Yeah, fuck this. “He’s getting a drink,” Steve says and storms off to the bar.

—

He’s not getting that drink.

Turns out a tenner isn’t a big enough bribe to get a bartender to break the law, so Steve nurses a diet Coke that he pretends is a lager and refuses to even look in the direction of the booth. Fucking Fred. What an asshole.

And what a stupid name, too, like— who looks at a baby and thinks, yep, looks like a Fred to me? Ugh.

Robin, bless her, has the good sense to leave him alone for a couple minute until he cools off, but then the music starts and she comes over to shout ‘stop moping and dance with me!’ and that’s the end of that.

—

The band is fucking awesome.

Steve doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this: high energy, tight rhythms, a driving beat that makes him want to dance. The bass reverberates through the floor, up his shins and through his chest, and for a second it almost feels like he has his hearing back, like his whole body is a wall of noise, filled with the wail of Eddie’s guitar, the scratchy rasp of his singing voice, and Eddie's…

Eddie’s amazing. Lightning in a bottle as he bounces around the stage, hips moving to the rhythm, fingers blurring over the frets. He looks so fucking hot. Denim vest, silver rings, jeans showing a delicious amount of skin — skin Steve has put his mouth on; tattoos he’s tasted with his tongue.

God, he can’t wait to kiss him. Is probably going to combust if it doesn’t happen tonight. Or like, come in his jeans, more realistically.

They dance and jump and shout along to the covers they recognize, and when Eddie dips backstage to let the band do an instrumental thing, Steve shakes the sweat out of his eyes and heads to the bar for a water.

—

"Mind if I join you?" Nancy asks.

Steve sighs. This is what he gets for wandering off alone. Robin's still by the stage, twirling Vickie around swing-style to a frantic, jazzy drum solo in a move that's actually pretty impressive even if it makes no sense with the music, and Steve resigns himself to his fate and nods at the empty stool beside him.

They sip their drinks in silence — awkward and charged, old hurts hanging between them like static waiting to strike. "Sorry about Fred," she says eventually. "And- and for me, too, I guess."

Steve huffs a laugh. Appreciates the sentiment, even if it doesn't change anything. "It's fine."

She glances over at him, that journalistic focus etched into her face. “How are you?” she asks softly.

Another laugh under his breath. He thinks about answering her honestly, just to entertain himself. Pictures the way her face would fall as he went on and on: "Oh, you know. My mom left me to go ‘rest' in Evanston, like I don’t know that means she went to rehab without saying a goddamn word, and when I called my aunt to yell at her about it, she said some ice cold shit about how I should be happy my mom left me, because now I can keep the money from the lot fees all to myself, and I said ‘what lot fees?’ and it turns out mom had been hiding, like, a lot of money from me while I stressed out about our budget for months. Oh! And also my dad’s dead, but you knew that already. And also I want to hump my neighbor against a brick wall so bad my dick is turning purple. How are you?"

"...Steve?" she tries after a moment.

“I’m good,” he settles on. Gives the bullshit answer because that's all they've ever been to each other, isn't it? Bullshit. "Yeah, I'm good," he tells her, "and you?"

"I'm fine." Her smile is tight, bags under her tired eyes, and then she sighs out long and slow, "Actually, I'm not. Everything's been..."

Steve tries to listen, but he just can't bring himself to care. Doesn't want to hear about whatever drama she's going through with the guy she dumped him for. And then Eddie comes back out on stage, and he's looking out into the crowd, and no fucking way is Steve letting him look over here and think he's cozied up with Nance. No fucking way. Nancy's ruined enough good things for him already.

"Sorry," he cuts her off, not feeling sorry at all as he stands up and walks off without looking back at her.

"Steve?" She calls after him. "Hey- wait!"

Steve makes his way to the front of the crowd.

“Howdy,” Eddie greets the room, stepping up to the mic with a Hollywood-worthy grin. His guitar’s strapped over his back, the neck pointing to the ground, and he looks so good up there. So comfortable and real.

And his outfit's different now. The denim vest is gone, and he's wearing a cut off tank top. The tank top; the one he wore that night, loose around the arms to expose his pretty, painted ribs. Steve looks up at him, transfixed. Like staring straight at the sun.

“How’s everybody doing?”

The group at the stage all whoop and cheer, and Eddie laughs delightedly; thanks them all for coming, thanks the tech and service crews. He introduces the band next, pointing each member out by name and letting them do a little solo, and then he swings his guitar over his shoulder and says, “We got one last song for you tonight!”

More cheering from the crowd. Eddie plants his feet and scans the room, a small, secret smile lighting up his gorgeous face when his eyes land on Steve. Just for a second before he looks away, but that smile stays firm, and Steve knows the next words are meant for him.

“Now, this isn’t our usual style, but uh… a little birdie told me someone here might need to hear this.”

Eddie strums his guitar. The opening notes of Go Your Own Way ring out, sped up and made grittier to fit the band's sound. Steve’s heart is in his throat.

“Good morning, sweetheart," Eddie beams as his bandmates join in, "this one’s for you.”

—

part 36

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #fred benson #mean girl steve realizing that actually you can just walk the fuck away #my writing #my fic

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harunayuuka2060 · 6 months

Text

MC and Simeon: ...

MC: Were you just pretending not to see me until now?

Simeon: No. You wouldn't believe how surprised I am to see you here in Celestial Realm, MC.

Simeon: What are you even doing here?

MC: ...

MC: Michael brought me here.

Simeon: Michael?

MC: Hm. I surrendered myself to Thirteen. Solomon stole the ring that contained my soul and gave it to him.

Simeon: I still don't understand... Michael has no reason to do that.

MC: *chuckles* I wish that is true.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: Tell me, MC.

MC: He wants to punish me for causing a lot of inconveniences, especially in the future. *smiles* Though I don't understand why it still matters in this timeline.

MC: When none of you will ever see me again.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: The future, you say?

MC: *nods* In the timeline I was in, you stole the ring of light to save me. And the very reason you were turned into a human and lost your right as an angel.

Simeon: !!!

Simeon: So that did actually happen.

MC: But not anymore, Simeon. You won't have to do that again.

Simeon: You may be right. However, a future without you...

MC: ...

MC: A future in which I'm no longer around would likely bring the greatest relief to everyone involved.

Simeon: Please don't say that... *tearing up*

MC: ...

MC: *hugs him*

Simeon: *hugging them tightly*

MC: Apart from Luke, I'm also happy to talk to you like this.

Simeon: Are you in hiding?

MC: *nods*

Simeon: I'll keep you safe until you can relax and feel peaceful again.

MC: Thank you, Simeon.

Asmo: Lucifer? What's going to happen to Barbatos now?

Lucifer: He's currently being detained in the underground labyrinth. Though I'm sure that can't stop him from escaping.

His brothers: ...

Levi: Um, Lucifer? Don't you think that it is time for you and everyone else to stop obsessing over MC?

Lucifer: Stop?

Beel: I agree with Levi. It's time to grant them the peace they deserve. If I'm being honest... We've already done enough.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: You are free to give up. I'm not going to stop any of you from doing that.

Lucifer: And I'm capable of finding MC alone. *immediately left to search for MC's whereabouts*

His brothers: ...

Raphael: *looking at the doll that resembles MC*

*The doll smiling peacefully at him.*

Raphael: *mutters* I hate this.

*chuckles*

Raphael: *his eyes widened*

"I hate this more than you do."

Michael: MC was here. *is in the Celestial Garden*

Michael: And Simeon as well. *smiles*

Michael: What should I do? Ah, I know...

Michael: I'll just have to make you think that things are going your way.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me simeon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me brothers #obey me raphael #obey me michael

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petertingle-yipyip · 28 days

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SO LONG LONDON - STEVEN GRANT

Pairing: steven x reader (established) (and then marc shows up)

Word Count: 2,489

Summary: Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love.

//honestly idk what happened here, just go with it//

It made no sense.

You two were scheduled together all the time. Donna claimed it was the only way to make sure Steven actually showed up to his shifts. And for the most part, it worked. Occasionally, you two would have a day or two different and he wouldn’t show or would be ridiculously late. But you were usually able to explain it away to your manager so Steven wouldn’t get in trouble.

But now, it has been three straight days of Steven pulling no-calls-no-shows. Even when you tried to call him, it went straight to voicemail. Like his phone wasn’t even on.

You were walking around the city that day after work. You picked up some lunch and were looking at your phone, contemplating whether or not you wanted to try calling out texting him again, but the sharp whizz of a woman on a moped cut you off.

You stopped so suddenly in your tracks that your phone fell from your hands as you scrambled to catch your food.

“I’m so sorry!” The woman said quickly, suddenly in front of you with your phone in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrugged it off and held a hand out for your phone. She went to pass it back to you but her eyes lingered on your screen where Steven’s contact photo was waiting.

“It was my fault for not looking.” You tried while she quietly stared at the screen. Your fingers hooked on your device and with a slight tug, you got it back.

“I’m Layla, by the way.” She said when you had moved to leave.

“Y/N.” You nodded. “Nice to meet you.” You tried to leave again but she spoke up.

“Boyfriend?”

“What?”

“The guy on your phone.” She gestured to your hand where your phone still sat. As subtle as possible, your thumb hit the lock button to hide the photo that was still waiting. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “He’s M.I.A. right now so I’m starting to worry. Normal girlfriend things, y’know? He’s a bit of a sleepwalker so…” You finished awkwardly.

“Would you…” She began and your brows raised. “Would you wanna get some coffee maybe? I think we should talk some more.”

“Oh, well.. Thank you but I should get home. I’m like three missed calls away from a missing persons report.” You tried to joke.

“It’s just that your boyfriend looks an awful lot like my husband.”

“What?” Your heart sunk.

“Yeah, uh..” She hurried to pull her phone from her bag. “My husband, Marc Spector. Maybe you’ve heard his name? He comes and goes for work but then I got a call and now I’m here trying to find him.”

“Oh!” You sighed in relief. “Okay, it’s probably a coincidence because my boyfriend’s name is.. Steven… Gra…”

Your sentence trailed off as Layla showed you her screen and a photo of her and someone who looked exactly like Steven faced you. His posture was different and you assumed his aura was as well. His hair was styled differently and he even wore different clothes than Steven would. Too similar to ignore but too different to convince you.

“Wow, um, that resemblance really is… Y’know what, maybe we should get some coffee.” You agreed.

After a while of you two talking, neither of you were convinced the other person was talking about the same person. Layla’s ‘Marc’ seemed to have a completely different personality than Steven. He seemed rougher, insufferable even. To be able to completely abandon your wife with no explanation was borderline appalling, and Steven would never. He hardly even went to run errands without giving you a full list of everywhere he intended to go.

As far as you could tell, the only similarity was their looks.

You offered to bring her to Steven’s apartment to show her that he was a different person with a different life. But when you knocked, your usual habit just in case he was home, he actually answered the door.

“Hello, Love.” He smiled at you, though the expression quickly faded when he saw yours. “Something wrong?”

“Steven, this is Layla. Layla, Steven.” You introduced before she had pushed past you both and into the apartment.

Steven looked at you in confusion but you smiled in apology with a small shrug. He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in so you did. Layla was investigating the small space and Steven was staying close to your side. You could feel his fingers tapping the back of your hand, his silent request to interlock your fingers together, but you put your hands in your jacket pocket instead.

“This is your flat, Marc?” She asked and you were thankful someone finally spoke to break the tension.

“I’m Steven, actually.” He answered.

“And you live here with her?” She gestured to you.

“No.” You answered for yourself. “I stay a few blocks over.”

“It’s my mum’s flat, actually.” Steven defended.

“You guys are talking again?” She asked as she found one of the poetry books on his shelves.

They exchanged remarks about the French poet and the hieroglyphics on Steven’s desk. You watched quietly and were finding nothing that could indicate Steven was Marc. But then again, the one French poet he knew just so happened to be Layla’s favorite. And his explanation of hieroglyphs was the same as hers.

Was it possible?

While the two turned to argue about divorce papers and Steven’s identity, you were distracted by the unusual gym bag on the table. You glanced and saw them take their conversation to another side of the room so you went over to the bag. You were thankful it was already unzipped so you pulled the sides apart and were dumbfounded by what you saw.

Stacks of money, a gun, a golden bug, and a passport.

You were drawn to the document so you pulled it out quietly and opened it, seeing a different name printed on the page.

“Marc Spector.” You read to yourself and your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

“Who’s Marc?” You asked suddenly, drawing attention to yourself. You held up the passport expectantly.

“Oh, jeez, uh…” Steven rushed over, crumbling the divorce papers under his arm as he reached for the passport.

“No.” You held it further away. “Who are you?”

“C’mon, love. You know me.” He tried, almost desperate for you to be on his side.

“I don’t think I do.” You said sadly. “Who’s Marc? Is he your twin brother or something?”

“I don’t know.” He answered quickly.

“He is Marc and he needs to tell me if we’re getting this divorce or not.” Layla spoke up and snatched the papers from under Steven’s arm.

“You seem lovely, Layla, truly. But I’m not Marc Spector.” He insisted and you so badly wanted to believe him. “I’m Steven Grant and I work at a gift shop. Well, I used to work at a gift shop. I just want my life back.”

“Doesn’t seem like you know which life that is, do you?” You slammed the passport against his chest.

“Y/N, please wait.” He reached for your hand but you backed away.

You nearly ran down the hall to the elevator. You needed to get away. From Layla. From Steven or Marc or whoever the hell he was.

It felt like you didn’t know him anymore. A different name you could live with. A secret job, sure, you could get over that. But a wife? An entirely opposite personality? That shook your entire world, the very foundation of your relationship. You could justify the rest but the idea of him loving someone else so wholly and being someone else so entirely, it had you questioning everything you knew.

About him. About life and love. Even about yourself.

It made you wonder if you could walk away from it all. Say so long to the quiet london boy that stole your heart.

You were back in your apartment before you knew it and you leaned against the closed door for a moment once you were inside. Your head was spinning with the new situation and you decided you didn’t want to think about it. You pushed yourself up and headed to your fridge, picking out one of the cans you usually reserved for after dinner or nights you had friends over for drinks and movies. You took it into your room and got changed before dropping onto your couch.

You put your can on the side table and picked up the remote, flipping through channels until a familiar movie played. You let it run as background noise while you read your book and slipped your drink. But despite your best efforts, Steven was still present in your mind. When you were picturing the main male character, all you could picture was your boyfriend. One of the female characters started to look like Layla. It drove you insane.

You threw the book to the coffee table and dropped to your back across the cushions. You didn’t know how long you had been staring at your ceiling when someone knocked on your door. The first time the noise came, you didn’t move. Surely whoever it was would leave. But after a few seconds the knocking came again, with more authority than the first time. so you hauled yourself up and shuffled over.

Opening the door, you were greeted by the ghost of your boyfriend. For the most part, it was the same man. Same clothes and same facial features. But his dark curls were pushed out of his face. His posture stood taller and his shoulders pulled back.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize you weren’t looking at Steven.

You moved to close the door when his hand shot out to stop you. You tried leaning some of your body weight against the door but it hardly budged. You muttered a small complaint to yourself before stepping back and opening the door fully.

You stared at the imposter expectantly.

“Not gonna let me in?” He asked, gesturing slightly towards your apartment.

Even his voice was different. Missing the accent, deeper and fuller than Steven’s. Seeing the more mature sound come from your boyfriend’s face sent goosebumps across your skin.

“Why would I? I don’t know you.” You shrugged.

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You really wanna have this conversation in the hall?”

You sighed heavily and as if on cue, your nosy neighbor was leaving her apartment. You grabbed Marc’s jacket and pulled him in, giving the woman a quick wave and a tight smile. You heard her question who he was but you shut the door before having to answer. You stared at the door for a second to collect yourself before turning to face Marc, who had already made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Little early in the day for drinks, don’t you think?” He tried to joke and shook the empty can but you didn’t laugh.

“Well when I find out my boyfriend is married and absolutely not who I thought he was, I’m entitled to a spiked lemonade… Just be glad it isn’t the bottle of vodka in my freezer.” You countered, the words spilling faster than you could control them. “So who the hell are you this time?”

“My name’s Marc.” He began and you rolled your eyes. “Steven and I are…”

“Twins?” You tried your earlier guess. You just desperately wanted something simple for an explanation. A case of mistaken identity among twins was simple enough.

“No, not exactly.”

“But you are the one married to that girl, Layla, right?” You pressed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and a small smile crossed his lips. “Steven’s never met her till today.”

“Well…” You said awkwardly, coming a few steps closer. “She’s very pretty.”

He smiled a little wider for a second before he seemed to remember why he was there.

“Listen, I came here because I wanted to try and explain what I could to you.” He began carefully.

“Is Layla right then, Steven’s just an act?” You cut in sharply. “A fake name so you can lead a life away from her? Because it seems to me that that woman loves you. Why she would is baffling to me and why you would divorce her is even more ludacris.”

“He’s not an act and he’s not fake.” He seemed to flinch at the last word. “Maybe he’s not all that real, either. It’s…” He blew out a heavy sigh. “It’s complicated, Y/N/N.”

“Don’t you dare.” You said tightly, closing the distance to put yourself in front of Marc. “You’ve existed to me for all of ten minutes. You have no right to call me that.”

“You’re right.” His hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

“How do you know about that anyway?”

“I know pretty much everything about Steven’s life.” He shrugged innocently. “You, the gift shop, his really shitty boss. I know what bus he takes, that goddamn fish. Jesus, I even know what underwear brand he wears.”

“How? Why? I just-“ You groaned and pushed your hands into your hair. “What the hell is going on, Marc?”

“Sometimes…” He spoke carefully, as if he was treading around land mines. “There were a few nights when you would come to Steven’s, or walking back to his place after work, it wouldn’t be him… He wouldn’t take over in time and it would be me. Kinda got to know you through that.”

“Oh my god.” You said quietly, your hand covering your mouth as you sunk into the chair beside you. “When he would be super quiet and just nodding or making little humming noises…”

“Yeah…” He hesitantly agreed, clearly embarrassed. “I tried to kind of push him forward but- I don’t know how this shit works, Y/N. I’m just living with it at this point.”

“So… You’re Marc and he’s Steven, but you’re also the same?” You questioned as the information tried to sink in. “Like you two are-“ You interlocked your fingers together.

“Same body, different people.” He nodded. “I know it’s a lot but don’t.. Don’t leave him over this.”

“Leave him?” Your brows furrowed and you almost laughed. “I’m not gonna leave him over this.”

“Really?” His brows raised quizzically. “Cause it didn’t seem that way when you walked out.”

“I can handle personalities, I think. It’s the marriage that’s a problem.”

“To be fair, it’s my marriage.” He offered. “Like I said, he never knew her.”

“I just need a day or two to let it process.” You confessed. “And I think you need a day or two to figure out things with Layla.”

“Yeah, probably right.”

“And if you two work it out, me and Layla are gonna have to figure out an arrangement.”

#steven grant fic #steven x yn #steven grant one shot #mcu steven grant #steven grant hc #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #marc spector moon knight #steven grant moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight x yn #moon knight x you #steven grant angst #marc spector angst #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight

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prazinos · 1 year

Text

Love At First..Sight?

Summary ~ You’ve been pining over Ajax Petropolus for what feels like forever. But there’s no way he could reciprocate your feelings, right? You would actually be surprised

WARNINGS ! ~ Minors DNI | Sexual Innuendos | Fluff

You always liked the young gorgan boy with his sweet smile and lovely sense of humour. You’ve had a tiny crush on him for a while but you’d never act on your feelings of course, but your friends were getting sick of you pining over him

‘Oh my god Y/N just go and talk to him, he won’t bite!’ Bianca groaned, you ignored her attempts at trying to get you to fess up ‘the worst he can do is say no!’ She continued.

‘What’re we talking about?’ Enid asked walking over to the table you, Bianca, Wednesday and Xavier were sitting at. Bianca groaned rubbing her eyes with her hands

‘I believe they’re talking about Ajax, Cara Mia’ Wednesday said, not looking up from her book. You watched as Enid’s eyes lit up from the nickname, and you wished Ajax would call you something like that. Enid sat down next to Wednesday resting her head on Wednesdays shoulder grimacing at what Wednesday was reading.

‘Okay listen, Y/N, you are gorgeous, funny, kind, smart, what’s there not to like?’ Bianca asked

‘I don’t know, I just don’t think he reciprocates my feelings’ you respond gloomily.

You walked next to Bianca in the large, long hallway. Thinking about Ajax once again, what can you say? He was gorgeous and you’ve always seen glimpses of his snakes when one of them comes out from under his beanie but you wondered what he would look like without the beanie. Granted, you would be stoned but you think being stone for a few hours is worth seeing his ‘hair’.

You and Bianca finally arrived to Serial Studies and watched as Bianca ran to sit next to Xavier, which confused you. While yes they’re on good terms and are friends after they broke up, she’s never rushing to sit next to him.

You look around the room for a free seat and notice there’s only one. Next to Ajax. You glared at Bianca and Xavier who both just snickered.

As you sat down Ajax gave you a tight lipped smile before writing down some notes.

You finally heard the sweet melodic sounds of Nocturne in A minor. Signalling that class was over, you quickly walked out of the classroom not being able to control the blush on your neck and face. You practically ran back to your dorm slamming it shut with your telekinesis and had a pillow to fly towards you before screaming into it, what if Ajax realised you had a crush on him? What if he thought you were weird? What if-

You heard knocks on your door and you groaned, walking over to it before swinging it open

‘Enid we’re not supposed to hang out until seven’

You cut yourself off when you noticed that there wasn’t a bubbly multi colour haired girl standing in front of you, instead a tall lanky snake haired boy stood before you. Your eyes widened before he spoke

‘Hey uh-sorry I didn’t mean to intrude I just noticed that you kinda dropped something and I’m here to, you know give it back’ Ajax said awkwardly, you looked at his outstretched hand taking the piece of paper that was being held.

You unfolded it to realise it was a drawing that Xavier had done for you, it was of yourself and Ajax sitting on a windowsill drinking from plastic cups, talking. Well you were laughing. Something that had actually happened at a party, Xavier had drawn it for you for your birthday and you had kept it in your notebook because you love looking at it.

Ajax must’ve noticed your flushed face and he stepped inside, and closed the door

‘Look um Y/N I was never gonna say anything but I um-I think you’re really pretty and cool and smart and god you always make me laugh and sometimes when im lying in bed thinking about you I wonder if your thinking about me and it sounds crazy I know but-‘

You cut him off by shoving him against the closed door with your telekinesis and grabbing him to pull him down by his collar before kissing him,

He froze at first before relaxing into the kiss and moving one of his hands to your jaw, then your cheek. You smiled into the kiss as did he. You don’t think anything could feel better than this.

After what felt like forever you finally pulled back feeling lightheaded after kissing for so long. You opened your eyes only to jump back in fear

Ajax looked mortified as he heard hissing and looked down to see his beanie on the floor. What he didn’t understand was how you weren’t stoned

After your initial shock and after calming down realising you weren’t stoned nor were going to get stoned, the snakes looked at you in almost admiration,

Ajax was still frozen still, did you think his snakes were weird? Terrifying?

‘They’re so cute oh my god’ you said reaching out to his head, the snakes allowed you to lightly pat them with the tip of your finger and Ajax relaxed ‘i don’t even know how I’m not stoned’ you continued.

Ajax smiled as his leaned down to kiss you again. You giggled into the kiss as you felt the snakes tickling the sides of your face, Ajax broke away laughing as well and he hugged you.

‘panemorfi’ he whispers into your hair

‘What?’

‘Gorgeous’ he smiles down at you. You smile back a warmth covering you from head to toe, you always thought it was cute how Wednesday called Enid Cara Mia but being called panemorfi by Ajax it was something else, the way it rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine.

You glanced at the clock before glancing back down at the boy who was asleep, his head resting on your stomach. You smiled as you stroked his snakes carefully and lightly. But the sweet moment was cut short as Bianca, Xavier, Wednesday and Enid burst through the door.

You were quick to pull the blanket over Ajax as you didn’t know if he would still stone them while asleep.

‘We’re supposed to be hanging out Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?’ Bianca asked

‘I-um nothing I guess I just fell asleep’ you answered hoping to be convincing

‘You’re a terrible liar Y/N’ Xavier sighed.

All of their eyes widened as they noticed your blanket move that couldn’t have been you. Then they heard yawning

‘What? Why am I-‘

You cut Ajax off by grabbing the beanie you had next to your pillow and shoving it over his face

‘Woah what were you guys doing?’ Bianca asked smiling wickedly

‘I believe the term is cunnilingu-‘

Wednesday attempted to answer before a hand was slapped over her mouth by Enid

You pulled the blanket down revealing Ajax and everyone gasped, Ajax smiled sleepily at them yawning again

‘He wasn’t doing anything I swear he was just asleep on my stomach and he had his snakes out and I didn’t know if they still work when he’s asleep’ you answered.

‘What that’s not possible just say that he was getting a taste of your-‘ Xavier groaned as Enid elbowed him in the stomach.

‘Actually it is possible, some have the ability to not be stoned if the gorgan is in love with them’ Bianca said casually.

You looked down at Ajax with wide eyes as he looked up at you, he looked so cute like this, he looked like a puppy and you smiled at him before tapping his side telling him to get up. He rolled off you before you went to your closet, quickly changing (out of sight) and back towards your friends.

‘You’re welcome to join us Ajax’ Xavier said smiling

Ajax nodded, adjusting his beanie before jogging over to you guys.

As you walked down the hall you, Wednesday, Enid, and Bianca walked in a line and behind you the boys were talking. Faintly thought you all heard a disturbing conversation.

‘So dude do you have like snakes for pubes?’

‘XAVIER!’

A/N ~ Wow two in like a few hours although this one isn’t smut ! Also please know I did use google translate </3

I also will be doing requests as soon as I do a post about boundaries and stuff <3

Thank you whoever said Cara Mia was Italian not Spanish oh my god I’m an idiot 😭

Please let me know if you enjoyed this by Liking, Reblogging, Commenting, or following!

Cara Mia ~ My Beloved {Italian}

Penamorfi ~ Gorgeous {Greek}

Thank you my loves <3

#ajax x reader #ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus x reader #wednesday the series #wednesday tv show #wednesday x reader #Xavier Thorpe x Reader #nevermore #fluff #Ajax fluff #Ajax Petropolus fluff

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erwinsvow · 1 month

Text

“where’s the fuckin’ turn?” rafe barks, mostly frustrated with the confusing streets and not really at you, though it doesn’t seem that way right now. he cranes his neck to look into the passenger seat mirror, pushing his arm against your body while he tries to make out the name on the street sign he just passed.

“rafe, i think that was the turn,” you say, trying to turn the paper map around to figure out which direction the two of you are heading in. it’s not making much sense—reading maps definitely isn’t your biggest skill, but rafe’s phone was dead and you had drained your own battery playing candy crush.

“huh?” he keeps driving, not even slowing down a little bit to help you.

“i think we passed it, back there, um-”

“what the hell are you doin’ with that map?” he glances over to see you rotating the map again, holding it up against the window like that’ll help you decipher it.

“you’re going too fast! i can barely read this thing-” you spin it another time, in the opposite direction, craning your neck to follow along. “i think that was the turn, actually. or maybe behind us…”

“that's a one way.”

“oh. probably not, then. right, rafe?”

“c’mon, kid, make yourself useful. not gonna get home ‘til midnight at this rate.” rafe looks ahead, scanning the road for the best place to pull over, hand reaching out to take the map from you.

all he’s greeted with is the sound of your seatbelt unbuckling. you adjust your position carefully, leaning your body over your seat. your hands reach out to undo rafe’s belt while the car starts slowing down, rafe looking at you and not the road.

“what the fuck are you doin’?” he asks, and you look up with big eyes, hands not stopping their movement and pulling his dick out, which is getting harder by the second.

“you said to make myself useful.”

“right. yeah, that’s right. go ahead.” with his freshly granted permission, you lower your mouth onto rafe while you feel his hand snaking into your hair.

he pulls over. rafe’s truck doesn’t make it back to tannyhill until dawn.

#lol ferallll #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #short n sweet!

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

Note

Chaggie AU where Vaggie is a member of a holy order devoted to slaying monsters. As part of her becoming a holy knight, she must commune with an Angel to be granted their divine power... only something goes wrong with the ritual, and the being that appears before her is none other than the Princess of Hell.

Lute: “Gay?! She’s supposed to be HOLY!”

Adam: “Yeah, hot.”

Lute: “…let. Me. See. That. SuMMOnINg sCRiPTuRE.”

Adam: “Sure thing dude. Here.”

Lute: “This isn’t a holy rite, this is… WRITINGS OF SAPPHO!”

Adam: "Heh, heathen and homoerotic. WLWhoops?"

Charlie: “You should really be more careful next time!"

Vaggie: "Uh."

Charlie: "Lot’s of other demons would be thrilled to get yanked into the mortal world without a circle of binding to hold them- especially by someone as cute as you-

Vaggie: "Excuse me?"

Charlie: "And when I say thrilled, I mean in the blood and guts and screaming kinda way, NOT just in the 'can feel hellfire in my cheeks' kinda way. Safe summoning is important!!”

Vaggie: “Why’re you drawing the circle in yourself, then. With your… claws.”

Charlie: “Because you didn’t?” (dusts fire off her hands) “Anyway you should be good now, ask me anything!”

Vaggie: “You’re seriously not taking advantage of being summoned but not bound?"

Charlie: "I'm taking advantage of the view!"

Charlie: (beat)

Charlie: "Of the, mortal world, I am enjoying the pretty scenery."

Vaggie: "It's dark."

Charlie: "I'm enjoying the beautiful knight. Night. Night without a 'K'. Not knight like YOU'RE a knight, not that you aren't beautiful-"

Vaggie: "I'm. What."

Charlie: "The one who should be talking now! Not me. I think I've done enough talking for now. I think I'm good on having said stuff recently. I think I should be quiet for a bit."

Vaggie: (gay) (not immune to adorable ladies) "WHY are you here. You're not, what I expected."

Charlie: “I'm not the usual demon- As hell princess I get first dibs on all summons! After dad anyway.”

Vaggie: (of COURSE she's a princess) “Why answer this one.”

Charlie: “You’re missing an eye? It looks painful?"

Vaggie: "...so?

Charlie: "?? I thought maybe you wanted help with that.”

Vaggie: "It's a penance. You can't help with it."

Charlie: "oh."

Vaggie: “...That’s it? You're not here for anything else?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “You um. You look very cool in that armor.” (cringes) “Awesome.” (cringes more)

Vaggie: “Are you a siren or a succubus or something.”

Charlie: “What!? No! No I’m just, I just think girls are hot! Cool! You look great!! …girls all look great, and you’re a girl, and you…”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Do you need any demons slayed?”

Charlie: “Ahaa, no.”

Vaggie: “Holy quests completed?”

Charlie: “No?”

Vaggie: “Are you gonna eat me.”

Charlie: “N-not on the first date- I- OH YOU MEAN ACTUALLY-? No no no! I don’t, I’m, I don’t eat souls. Or people.”

Vaggie: “So what’s the catch here. The price.”

Charlie: “Nothing. I just wanted to help.”

Charlie: “Okay and maaaaybe have a nice conversation for once. Kinda short on them in hell.”

Vaggie: “… is there ANYTHING I can help you with?”

Charlie: “Well I just broke up with-”

Vaggie: “I’ll kill them.”

Charlie: “-and I could really use a date for the ball, I mean! No killing needed!! Dad isn’t going again, mom’s um, busy. And it’ll be a lot less awkward if I already have a dance partner, you know?”

Vaggie: “You want me to find you a dance partner.”

Charlie: “Oh no I, I was hoping- do YOU dance?”

Vaggie: "Me."

Charlie: "If you want to?"

Vaggie: “You’re asking me to go to hell.”

Charlie: “Shit. Right, dumb idea. It’s my home but, yeah. It’s not like anyone enjoys being here.”

Vaggie: (fuck she's cute) (fuck she's SAD)

Vaggie: “No one does? What about you?”

Charlie: “I… just wish the people would be nicer. A place is the people who live there, right?”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “I’ll come.”

Charlie: “You wha?”

Vaggie: “I’ll come to the dance.”

Charlie: "But- hell! Why-"

Vaggie: "Hell’s a better place than I thought."

Charlie: "You've never even BEEN here!"

Vaggie: "I've met you."

Charlie: ".... I'm not... the usual demon."

Vaggie: "I'll take my chances. I'll need to borrow a dress though. All I have up here is, armor."

Charlie: "I can, I can change that. A dress. N- no problem."

Vaggie: "It's a deal then." (holds out hand) "A dance for a dress?"

Charlie: (takes her hand and shakes it eagerly while bowing) "ITS A DATE!"

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Yeah, I guess that's a better word for it."

Charlie: "And I PROMISE when we dance I WON'T trample your toes with my hooves!"

Vaggie: "... should I just keep the sabatons on?"

Charlie: "I promise to find you a dress that goes good with your armored shoes so your toes don't get trampled on."

Vaggie: "We're gonna be quite the pair, aren't we."

Charlie: "Heheh~"

Lute: "WHAT HAPPENED WHY WAS THERE FIRE AND BRIMSTONE INSTEAD OF HOLY LIGHT WHY WERE YOU COMMUNING WITH A FIEND SO LONG IS IT DEAD DID YOU KILL IT???"

Vaggie: "Does taking her heart count?"

Adam: "Whoooo VaGEEE! Totally FUCKED that demon huh!!"

Vaggie: "Mm, not totally sir."

Vaggie: (smiling) (softly to herself) "Not on the first date."

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #lute hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #silly girlfriend summoning au #incorrect quotes #first part taken from the emperor's new groove- please imagine lute and adam as kronk and yzma #anyway diversity win!#the holy knight and demon princess who fall in love are both queer!!#and dumb!#it will turn out great im sure

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bluecollarmcandtf · 9 months

Text

18, going on 30

This is Troy, the youngest kid on the basketball team. He can shoot hoops alright, but I don't like him. The twerp skips all my lectures, and I've had enough! He doesn't deserve what he doesn't appreciate.

I'm 30 years old.

It's been 8 years since an injury ended my athletic career. I ultimately got a teaching degree, but this was never my dream. I hate lecturing to a crowd of hungover idiots; I hate staying late to grade papers when I have to wake up early for meetings; but I hate most of all what this life has done to my body.

I've gained a lot of weight since my basketball years, and what was once lean muscle is a thick layer of soft flesh now. I'd do anything to have a body like Troy's again. If that kid is going to take his life for granted, then I deserve it way more then he does.

"Troy!" I yell to catch his attention.

It's just him and me in the gym. I need to do this quickly before any of his teammates show up for practice, so I begin speed walking across the court.

"Mr. Johnson?" Troy looks amused to see his finance teacher in a gym, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for you, kid," I pant, finally meeting him by the hoop. I'm a little embarrassed by how out of breath the walk has made me. I already feel hot and sweaty from the effort.

"Is this about missing class?" the young jock laughs before taking another shot.

"Actually, yes" I take the opportunity to begin the transformation, "You need to get back to the lecture hall don't you? That exam is going to take awhile to grade."

"What are you talking about, professor?" Troy sneers, but he seems less comfortable.

"I'm talking about you, professor," I go on.

"I'm not..." he stammers, "You're the teacher, ok! Practice is starting soon, so just get off my back." Troy turns his attention back to the basketball hoop. The idiot hasn't even noticed how much his body has already transformed.

"I'm the teacher?" I grin at how well my plan is working, "Mr. Johnson, look at yourself."

Troy takes a nervous look down.

"What the hell!" Troy cringes as his voice comes out much deeper than he expected it to, "Why do I sound like that? What'd you do to me?"

"Nothing!" I lie, "But you look pretty stupid in my game shorts, dude."

"Where did this come from," Troy bellows and grabs his bloated gut in a panic, "And why does my whole body ache all the sudden?"

"Well, Mr. Johnson, you are 30," I remind him.

"I'm not Mr. Johnson!" he growls, pouting at the new layers of mass hanging off his body.

"Yeah, you are," I insist, "You're a professor, remember?"

"I guess I must be," Troy sighs in defeat, "I just didn't remember getting this old and fat. What do I teach, again?"

"Finance! That's what I've been trying to tell you!" I exclaim, already feeling youthful energy coursing through my veins, "You should get back to your classroom. You've got papers to grade."

"Right," Troy grumbles, unhappily accepting his new reality as Mr. Johnson, "Sorry to bother you...um, what's your name again."

"Come on old man!" I tease him, "I have you for finance! I'm Troy. Remember?"

"Of course," he curses his bad memory, "Troy, have a good practice."

Troy begins walking off in my former body. I really had let my old self go. Mr. Johnson looks even chunkier from the back, and those tight gym clothes only make him look worse.

"Mr. Johnson!" I call, "Can I get my clothes back?"

The man pauses and glances down at the small shorts he's wearing.

"Of course! My bad," he fumbles his way to the locker room, "I must've grabbed them by accident."

"Sure you did, creep," I mutter.

I hate to be so cruel, but feeling young again is exhilarating! The rest of the team is showing up by now, and they automatically laugh when I tell them about the professor in the locker room. To them, I'm their youngest star teammate.

I finally have the life of my dreams back!

"I'll see you at Thursday's class," Mr. Johnson emerges from the locker room and hands over the basketball clothes.

"Not likely, old man," I chuckle, joining my teammates in warming up. I can hardly wait to get this scrimmage started.

Troy shuffles back to the finance classroom in my old body. The rest of the building is dark, but he flips the light on, finding a thick stack of papers to grade.

With a labored sigh, the mature man sinks into his chair and gets to work. His head is still foggy about the whole conversation with the young basketball player. He can't figure out why he'd been in the gym, let alone why he'd been wearing that poor kid's clothes.

The new Mr. Johnson just accepts that his mind isn't what it used to be. Even though he'd rather be anywhere else, he picks up the first exam to grade. It's going to be a long night for him.

Meanwhile at practice, I'm having the time of my life! I've already talked the rest of the team into having a party tonight. I want to celebrate my new life as Troy, and this time, I'm going to make it to the big leagues!

I don't think I'll ever go to my old finance class again.

#gay hypnosis #male transformation #gay mind control #male body swap

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