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vettelsvee · 15 days

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DO YOU REALLY WANT US TO TRY? | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

summary: seb and di have a day off from the History shootings, so they decide not only to go on a date in new york city (after seb's surprise to di), but also to try to go for another baby, their fourth baby.

word count: 7286

warnings: smut: female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), p in v without protection (wrap it before tap it!). bad language, curse words, translated german. fluff! seb and di's kids, seb's fictional sister, lando and mick cameo. seb being the standard before i make him the opposite in this story :)

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

a/n: thanks to everyone who've been reading my works so far! i partly feel valued and think someone likes what i write! i currently have too many ideas for seb fanfictions and one shots and those types of things, tbh my creativity levels went crazy since i'm here <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2023

The dawn light, painting the New York sky in pink and orange, began to filter through the windows partially covered by semi-transparent curtains.

Diana Vettel laid peacefully in bed, on her right side, immersed in a light sleep. Her reddish, wavy hair sprawled across the pillow, and her breathing was calm, synchronized with the movement of her chest. A faint smile adorned her lips, possibly reflecting a pleasant dream involving her, her husband, and their little ones.

Sebastian gradually woke up, his half-asleep eyes first meeting the serene face of his wife illuminated by the emerging sunlight.

"Good morning, my love," Vettel whispered, trying not to startle her.

She didn't react, still lost in her peaceful nocturnal fantasy. A tender expression crossed the German's face as he leaned gently to kiss her forehead, taking utmost care not to wake her.

Their day in New York held many plans, and he wanted her to be as rested as possible.

"Mmm," she murmured, slightly more aware now. "Seb..."

Sebastian's gaze focused on her lips, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist, leaving a trail of kisses from her cheek to her jaw, chin, and even focusing on her neck, well aware that such gestures often led to a morning session of intimacy they had enjoyed many times before.

Diana mumbled sleepily but became a bit more conscious of her surroundings.

"That was nice, but could you let me sleep a bit more, please?" she asked.

Sebastian smiled, settling closer to her, resting his head on the pillow and letting it rest on his right hand, aligning with her level.

"I think it's already time to wake up, love," he said, gently caressing her cheek. "How about you let me wake you up properly?"

The Austrian, as if engaged in a playful banter, slowly opened her eyelids. She blinked leisurely, letting her light eyes adjust to the ambient light, a playful smile forming as she realized how close her husband was.

"What do you mean by waking me up properly?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued and emphasizing the last word.

Sebastian didn't reply; instead, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, initiating a tender and longer kiss than initially intended. Afterward, he focused on every part of her tired face once again.

"Like that."

"Are we playing Disney princesses as if we were with the girls?" Diana teased, her cheeks turning slightly rosy. "Am I supposed to be Sleeping Beauty or what?"

Sebastian chuckled sincerely, admiring the innocence with which his wife sometimes spoke due to the games they played with their daughters throughout the day. Since becoming parents, both knew they were reliving a second childhood, something Diana particularly loved as she had become the mother she always wanted to be.

"Something like that, yes," Vettel replied. "Who could resist the incredible task of waking up a princess? Well," he corrected himself, "you’re not a princess: you’re my queen."

"I haven't been awake for five minutes and you're already acting like your 2011 self, the one who didn't know what to do with his life and how to get rid of all the crap falling on him," she recalled. "And there was quite a lot, especially, and who flirted with every walking female being."

"But you loved him because, thanks to him, you ended up falling in love with me," Sebastian added with sarcasm. "Besides," he continued, "don't act like you've never put a foot wrong in your life. You weren't an angel that year either."

Before the former engineer could retort, Sebastian moved aside the sheets covering him from the waist down to get out of bed. He put on his slippers and, with a mischievous smile, headed to the apartment's kitchen they had rented for their stay in the city.

"What are you doing, Sebastian Vettel?" demanded Diana, trying not to fall back asleep and figuring out what was going on in the man's head.

A playful smile appeared on Sebastian's face as he turned to his wife. She was watching him with considerable curiosity, but he paid her no mind, further fueling her annoyance.

"It's a surprise, sweetheart," he commented, quickly returning to her, planting a kiss on her forehead, and covering her a bit more with the sheets.

"You've got me intrigued," Diana said drowsily, yawning, "so don't take too long, or I'll fall back asleep."

Sebastian returned to the small space, leaving the redhead confused and stretching in bed. Once in the kitchen, the former driver began gathering everything needed for a simple breakfast, given that his culinary skills were not the best but good enough to impress his wife. Soft sounds of utensils and plates clinking filled the air, along with the gradually brewing aroma of coffee, enough to fully awaken Diana. Nothing delighted the redhead more than the scent of that brown beverage she loved, wafting through her nostrils.

The girl sat up slowly, leaning against the padded backrest. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps approaching. Sebastian appeared at the bedroom entrance carrying a tray filled with fresh fruits in an unevenly cut bowl, a buttered toast with peach jam, and a cup brimming with coffee, featuring a failed attempt at a heart. Additionally, there was a vase with some dried flowers that Sebastian had secretly bought the day before from a nearby florist.

"What's all this? Are we celebrating something?" Diana asked, completely impressed by the wonderful wake-up Seb had prepared for her. "Or is there something you want to tell me, and you don't know how?"

He carefully placed the tray on her lap, trying not to spill anything and cause a mess. Sebastian then sat beside her gently, positioning himself close enough to her but giving enough space for her to enjoy breakfast without feeling overwhelmed.

"I just wanted to make something special for the most special woman in my life," the blonde clarified.

"It's surreal that you've done this for me," Diana admitted. "Are you sure you're not going to ask for a divorce or anything?" she added while taking a piece of bread with her hands and bringing it to her mouth.

"I thought the nonsense of wanting a divorce was a thing of the past," Sebastian replied. "Besides, this is the simplest thing in the world, Di. Remember when I taught you to drive?" The girl nodded, eating slowly. He had given her quite a hard time, although in the end, he became her best driving instructor. "Or when you got so obsessed with Moulin Rouge that I threw you a themed birthday party where you were Satine, I was Christian, and we spent the whole night singing after I spent days learning every song Ewan McGregor sang in the movie?"

"You looked handsome as fuck in that outfit, and everyone had a great time," Diana said, recalling that day as if it were yesterday. "Although we didn't enjoy it as much when Lara and Mick, who clearly intended to sleep together, caught us in bed together ."

The German rolled his eyes, trying to forget the scene where he had his girlfriend sitting on his face, her face down focused on his penis, giving him a blowjob, and the ex-couple, wearing only their underwear, entering the same room where they were.

He didn't want to remember that date even if they paid him all the money in the world, or if they even told him that climate change would end.

"Well," she continued, realizing that Sebastian didn't want to talk about it anymore. "What's all this for, then?"

"Since we had the day off today, I wanted to do something special with you," Sebastian explained. "I know we have to get up at five tomorrow because we need to be at the studio around seven, so I didn't plan anything big," he apologized. "Sorry."

"Spill it, don't leave me in suspense," Diana said, now holding the fruit bowl in one hand and the fork in the other.

"What if we go to Central Park and spend the day there, sweetheart?"

Diana lifted her gaze from the coffee, surprised by the suggestion. Then, she smiled at her husband.

"Central Park is always a good plan, especially when it's with you,” she replied cheerfully. “I like that it's something calm," she confessed, quite happy. "Mr. and Mrs. Vettel need, every now and then, a bit of calm in their lives."

Even though she hadn't finished eating everything Sebastian had prepared for her, the woman made a move to get up and get dressed. However, he signaled her to sit back down and wait for a moment.

"I have something for you," he declared affectionately, thinking about how Di would react to the two surprises he had prepared, especially the first one.

Quickly, with his wife's watchful eyes on him, he approached the built-in wardrobe in one corner of the room and took out a small bag containing an envelope and a small box wrapped in Christmas-themed wrapping paper.

"I know it's not the right time for me to give you this," Sebastian explained, pointing to the box, "but I'm sure you'll love what's inside. I couldn't give it to you with the girls around," he revealed, "or they would want to copy their mother, especially Emily. I still think they are too young for that."

The redhead was puzzled by what the German had just said. As he offered her the box, she took it carefully in her hands. Slowly, she unwrapped it, avoiding tearing the wrapping hastily and removing the pieces of tape one by one, even though excitement was eating away at her.

Once she removed the wrapping, she saw what appeared to be the back of a toy box; when she turned it around, she realized she was right and started screaming and jumping on the bed. Then, she ran towards Sebastian and gave him a tight hug, one of the ones she loved.

"Oh my God, Seb. I can't believe it!" the woman exclaimed, completely thrilled. "I know I'm an adult, a mother with responsibilities," she specified, counting on her fingers, "but you've fulfilled my childhood dream!"

Sebastian laughed at his wife's reaction, something he expected from her. As they became closer, they talked about childhood toys. She revealed that she had always wanted a Tamagotchi but, due to her family's economic situation, they couldn't buy her one. The redhead's surprise came when Emily, their eldest daughter, asked for one last Christmas. Since then, the former driver often caught his wife playing with it whenever their eldest ignored it or got bored of it.

He loved seeing Diana so excited about something as simple as a gadget with a virtual pet or whatever was inside.

"I thought you'd like to have one for yourself," Seb raised an eyebrow. "Considering how often you take it from your eldest daughter..."

Di avoided his comment. Instead, she eagerly tore open the box, and once the device was out, she stopped to examine it in detail, trying not to let it slip from her trembling hands. She felt a rush of emotions running through her body, transporting her back to her childhood, remembering every detail she had experienced with her family, of which only Amelie remained.

But now she had a new family, her own family, and that was what she clung to in moments when she wondered why all her loved ones had somehow left her behind.

"And what's the other thing?"

Diana discreetly pointed, ignoring her feelings as she stepped away from her husband, to the envelope she held in her hands. She tried to reach it, but it was in vain—Sebastian, though just slightly, was taller than her.

"Oh, this?" he said. "It's nothing, just tickets to go to the theater to see the Hamilton musical."

Diana opened her mouth, completely in shock.

"And you say it so calm?!" she exclaimed, moving towards her husband again. "You're the most utterly unexpressive person I've ever met in my life, Vettel."

"Go get dressed, come on," he avoided that comment, heading towards the front door, grabbing his jacket, and after putting it on, he took the keys to the residence. "I'm going grocery shopping for the wonderful picnic we're going to have today."

"But what picnic are we going to have if it's winter!" she shouted, somewhat puzzled. "Sebastian Vettel, I swear to God, if I catch a cold, and on top of that, when we come back, we give it to the girls, I won't be the one staying home to take care of them!"

He left the apartment laughing, closing the door behind him, leaving his wife to come up with wild theories about what they were going to do. It seemed she knew him very little.

Did Diana not know that, for him, a picnic always ended up meaning taking her to eat somewhere quiet in the city?

[...]

After almost two weeks of the History recordings, where she had only worn the most formal clothes, from almost gala dresses to uncomfortable pencil skirts, Diana could finally wear something she could describe as comfortable.

She had always been used to dressing casually, except for the years she worked at Red Bull, where she often felt like she was on a fashion runway. So, for a stroll in the most famous park in New York and even for a night at the theater, Diana decided to wear slightly tight jeans that easily hugged her curves, hidden under a well-worn oversized sweater from her pregnancies. She left her hair, a bit longer than she was used to in recent years, loose, with its natural waves. She also wore tiny pearl-shaped earrings, her father's watch on her left wrist, and white Converse shoes.

For Sebastian, an overshirt and a t-shirt hidden under his jacket, along with pants and Adidas sneakers, were more than enough. He wore that almost always, and no matter how many times his wife told him that it seemed like that outfit had become his uniform, he refused to change it.

And thank goodness he doesn't wear the famous headband, Diana criticized in her mind. How embarrassing.

It had been almost three hours since they left their rented apartment and had done quite a few things, although it was nothing extraordinary. First, they walked hand in hand through the park, avoiding athletes, talking about trivial matters. Then, they started feeding ducks in a small pond with a loaf of bread Sebastian had specifically bought for that. Diana also decided to approach a group of elderly people playing chess to chat with them for a while. Older people were her weakness, and she felt sorry for most of them. The Austrian ended up playing a few games while listening to them talk cheerfully about their lives, sharing some trivial details about hers at the same time.

When they set out for the famous picnic, they decided to call Lara to check on the girls. The moment the girl answered the call, the couple could momentarily see the desperation she was feeling:

"I swear tonight has been a disaster," the girl commented in German. "Charlie, at eleven at night, wanted to get into the pool with her Little Mermaid costume to swim and go to the magical kingdom of I don't know what," she expressed angrily, gesturing with her free hand. "Then, Emily wanted to play with your simulator, Seb, and ended up crying because I told her she needed your permission, but you were working and couldn't give it to her," the mentioned one nodded, gesturing to his sister to continue. "And to top it off, Lando and Mick ended up falling asleep, leaving me in charge of two little devils."

“And my sister?,” Diana asked abruptly, leaning closer to the phone. Sebastian could sense her getting nervous, so he quickly took her hand and started caressing it with his thumb.

Lara sighed, and they even heard a few muttered curses.

"Don't talk to me about your sister, sister-in-law," the raven-haired girl almost shouted. "She promised me she'd be here around eight, but she ended up calling me a few hours later, drunk as a skunk, to tell me she went partying with a girl she had met a couple of nights ago, redundantly, at another party."

"So, you've become the boss of everything, huh?" the older of the two brothers commented with humor.

"Exactly."

The family conversation continued. As the minutes passed and they got closer to the place Sebastian had chosen for their meal that day, his parents joined them, having decided to take care of the youngest of the family, Matilda, while they were out. Corinna also decided to go to the couple's residence, and with the youngest in her arms, she began explaining to her parents that she had learned to say a few new words.

" Auto," the baby joyfully exclaimed, while pointing from Schumacher's arms to a photo of Sebastian in his second team that was above the fireplace. "Auto, daddy. Daddy, das Auto ist blau."

That made Sebastian so happy that tears welled up in his eyes. Although it didn't last long because they had already reached the door of the restaurant. Soft lights, despite it being midday, illuminated the path to the entrance, which stood out with its wide windows, resembling a glass display, showcasing diners already enjoying their meals.

After hanging up with their relatives, the couple entered and let themselves be enveloped by the atmosphere. The interior was elegantly decorated but not overly extravagant. There were plenty of potted plants of all kinds decorating every corner, and Diana wasn't sure if it was that or not, but a very faint scent, like vanilla, seemed to emanate from some unknown place.

A waiter approached the couple, who were chatting animatedly about the place they were in.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Vettel," the young man interrupted, who should be in his twenties and apparently seemed to be a fan of the former pilot. "If you follow me, I'll show you the table we've prepared so you can enjoy your meal without interruptions."

Sebastian and Diana thanked him with a slight nod and proceeded to follow him. They crossed the different sections of the establishment, trying not to attract the attention of any customers, until they reached a more secluded corner from where Central Park could be seen in the distance.

Once seated, the guy who was serving them offered them the menus, and immediately, an older woman, also part of the restaurant staff, placed a few appetizers on the table, saying they were on the house.

At that moment, while deciding what to order, Diana began to dwell on the conversation she had with her sister-in-law before starting to record the documentary for the first time. She didn't know how to broach the subject of getting pregnant again. She was nervous about Sebastian's possible reaction, yes, but at the same time, she had a good impression. Her husband was currently dissecting the steak they had ordered, while she dipped a nacho into some guacamole. Trying not to delay it further, the redhead spoke while settling into her chair:

"Seb?" she asked to get his attention. "The other day, Lara told me something a bit strange," she innocently expressed, as if she didn't care.

Vettel stopped cutting the piece of meat, dropped the utensils onto the plate, and looked at his wife a bit uneasy, not knowing what she might be referring to. Could it be something related to Max, and his sister didn't want to tell him?

"What do you mean something strange?" he said, frowning and with a concerned tone. "What did she tell you?"

"She said we could go for one more bun," she emphasized the phrase with a bit of irony. "She also said we should have a second honeymoon or something like that," Diana crossed her arms, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "You know how your sister is."

And indeed, Sebastian knew. He already had an idea of where this conversation was going, and if his wife meant it in a positive way, he was totally on board.

"So, one more bun, huh?" he teased, pretending not to know where the conversation was headed.

"I think Lara was talking about having another baby, love," Diana bluntly stated.

Sebastian nodded with excitement, knowing that his wife's expression was currently a masterpiece. If she thought he wouldn't catch on to what she was referring to, she was mistaken. Every time her sister had confided in him that she wanted another nephew, she had done so using that phrase, which, though totally absurd, had become an internal joke between the third and fourth siblings of the Vettel family. Now, Diana seemed to be a part of it as well.

"I know," Seb finally admitted, not wanting to tease his wife anymore, who seemed a bit deflated. "And what do you think?"

She wore a thoughtful expression, unsure of what to say. On one hand, she did want to be a mother for the fourth time, but there were so many things swirling in her head, things that would soon become a reality...

"What are you thinking, Di? Wouldn't it excite you to be parents again?"

Sebastian moved his chair closer to the table and took both of Diana's hands while keeping a close eye on her. He could feel her trembling a bit, and it wasn't particularly because of the cold.

"No, it's not that, it's just that... Matilda is still little. You've just retired, and the only thing you should focus on is resting and making up for lost time. I'm starting with F1 Academy soon and, on top of that, there's the mess of the documentary we've gotten into," she listed. "I don't feel capable of being a mother again, Seb," she confessed. "It will be overwhelming for us."

The German took Diana's chin and made her look in his direction. Their gazes met, and the girl found serenity amidst all the concerns that were overwhelming her at the moment.

"Listen, Di," the former pilot expressed clearly and calmly. "I'll always be by your side, no matter where I am or what I do, okay?" The redhead nodded, trying to hold back tears. "If you don't think now is the best time to have a baby, I'll wait, and if that time never comes, I'll be very happy to see our princesses grow up with you."

"Are you serious?"

"Very serious, Di," Seb affirmed once again. "I've always wanted to have a big family with you. You know that for me, the more, the merrier."

Diana leaned back a bit, surprised by her husband's words. She reflected on everything he had said since then, especially the "if you don't think now is the best time to have a baby, I'll wait."

Did that mean he wanted a fourth child, right?

"Wait, wait, wait," she played with her hands. "What did you say before?"

"I want to have all the babies in the world with you, and I'll wait as long as you need," Sebastian explained again.

Diana's eyes began to fill with tears of joy, causing confusion for her husband, who began to genuinely worry about her. He hadn't seen her like this for quite some time, and those were not particularly good times.

"Do you really want another baby?" she asked, now crying inconsolably. "Do you really want us to try?"

"How could I not want it, silly girl?" he rushed to hug her, already knowing what was going through her mind. "I'm willing to do anything you say except to be separated from you. So, if you want another mini version of us running around, with our versions that are no longer so mini running alongside, let's do it."

Diana's excitement couldn't fit into her body at the moment.

"You're amazing, did you know that?" she expressed, holding onto her husband even tighter.

"Of course," the German laughed, causing the redhead to laugh as well. "I'm just doing what all men should do: be, or at least try to be, everything their girls deserve."

And Mrs. Vettel knew he was right.

"So...?"

Diana was nervous about the final answer, although after seeing Sebastian's eyes light up and narrow, revealing the dimples on his cheeks, she didn't need to give her a response: she already knew, knew her husband too well to understand what was going through his mind at that moment.

"After the musical and dinner," the German promised, "I'm going to make you the most beautiful baby in the world. Four in a row."

[...]

The return trip had created a kind of barrier between the couple. They knew what they were going to do, they had talked about it and, especially, it wasn't the first time they had done it. Nevertheless, doubts always plagued the couple when it came to conceiving a baby because, after the miscarriage they had in 2016, fear was always present.

Both the musical, from which the former engineer had left crying, and the dinner, despite having been caught by paparazzi and fans, to whom they did not deny anything, were great. The night was young, and for the Vettel couple it had just begun no matter how much they tried to fool themselves by promising each other that they would go to sleep soon.

As soon as they arrived at the apartment, they shared kisses that were more intimate than normal, and even some friction over their clothes. Diana, who was starting to get very horny, had to calm down even she became more excited at the same time when Seb told her that, after the shower she was going to take, he would give her a lot of love.

Matilda was barely two years old, and although the former driver bragged about his four girls every time he had the opportunity, the woman knew that what her husband wanted most was to have a small version of him running around.

The redhead took off her clothes quickly, not bothering to put them on properly or look at where they ended up being thrown off. She laid down on the bed, wearing only the black lace panties, a courtesy gift from her sister and which had ended up becoming Sebastian's favorites, and she began to lower her left hand very slowly towards her privacy. She took some time for herself despite how aroused she was by her touch, focusing on her nipples and, little by little, working her way down to her stomach, leaving a trail of caresses that made her very wet, as she could tell. She had had a lot of problems with her body in the past but, now, she felt like a fucking Greek goddess, and she didn't need Vettel's compliments to believe it.

Once she reached her vulva, she tried to spend a brief moment exploring her pussy. However, her hunger was getting the better of her, and her excitement even more, so she quickly began to give small massages with the slowest speed she could to her clit, which made her let out a slight gasp. She continued to focus on herself to the point that she had forgotten about Vettel, who had already taken his shower and, completely naked from the bathroom door, was admiring the show that Diana was giving him.

At the same time that she was increasing the pressure he was exerting on her G-spot, she began to massage her right breast with his non-dominant hand, the right one, focusing first on her areola and gradually moving towards her nipple, limiting herself to rubbing it with his index finger. The movement of both of her hands, completely in rhythm, made Sebastian's penis become completely erect and ready to do anything to his wife, and for her to do it to him.

The German had been the one who had taught Diana everything about masturbation, no matter how much she tried to prove otherwise.

The man walked towards where the redhead was while massaging her penis. As soon as he arrived and had Diana in front of him, he climbed onto the bed and lay down next to her, who was still absorbed in her pleasure. As soon as she had the chance, Sebastian took advantage of her to kiss her fiercely, which was eagerly responded by her wife. She had already noticed that her husband had joined the party, although not yet actively. As if Vettel had read his thoughts, he began to caress his wife's stomach and, without warning, he inserted his hand into her underwear, wasting no time and getting to work with the bundle of nerves that He was between the legs of his former engineer.

"Fuck, Seb," Diana whimpered with pleasure, "you could have warned earlier."

"If I had warned you, you wouldn't be moaning three times louder right now than when your hand was in my place," Seb said, moving his finger from her clitoris to hers inside her in surprise. "Remember that no one will ever give you more pleasure than me, Diana Vettel."

Sebastian wanted to continue in that position. However, he knew they had to finish quickly. In just a few hours they had to be up and about to continue filming the documentary, and it didn't seem particularly right to fuck his wife all night long, even though that was his only desire.

Quickly, the German quickly pulled out of Diana's vulva, and she let out a cry of frustration at the loss of contact. Instead, Sebastian got off the bed, knelt in front of her and took the girl's thighs, squeezing hard to lower her to the edge of the surface and leave her pussy perfectly aligned with his mouth. The Austrian knew perfectly well that, in those moments, the blonde was the one who had control of her, no matter how much she wanted to dominate him, but she was not going to object to it.

Sex for those who had been affectionately and sarcastically nicknamed the paddock royalty was never boring, but quite the opposite. It was a box full of surprises in which, in a matter of seconds, Seb could go from being rough and dominant, to be the exact representation of the perfect guy in teenage romantic movies.

The man took time to admire Diana, who only had her panties left over to be completely naked before him. Quickly, he slowly got rid of them, even though the girl was putting up some resistance. Then, he opened the woman's legs and held them tightly by her thighs, on which he began to leave kisses, caresses and even the occasional slight bite, alternating between them tortuously.

"Sebastian Vettel, I'm not here to play games," Diana told him reluctantly, anxious for him to take the next step once and for all. "Either you fuck right now or I'll rub myself against the pillow until I come and the pillowcase ends up soaked."

He stood up, stopping touching her redhead's body. It caused, once again, great frustration for her.

"Do you think a bag filled with feathers is going to please you more than me?," Vettel asked curiously, playing with her.

"Seeing that you're acting like a dick, yes," Diana replied, sitting up and resting on the bed with her forearms.

"Are you sure what you're saying, meine Königin?"

The woman, who felt more horny after having heard the nickname that Sebastian had said to her, nodded, with the intention of commenting something else but being interrupted by her husband. Not even a few milliseconds passed when she had already pushed him to lie down again. Immediately afterwards, with his arms tightly holding her lower extremities, the German was already kneeling again and running his tongue throughout her intimacy, without any kind of mercy.

“Fuck, Seb!,” the woman squealed in surprise, prompting the German to lick faster. "My God..."

The former driver was going so fast that the woman's body was constantly rising and falling, her breasts bouncing hard almost in unison with Sebastian's licks. To change the rules of the game, and surprise his wife once again, he opened her folds widely with one hand and, with the other, started massaging that button that caused her so much pleasure. Diana's legs had begun to close due to her being close to the orgasm, and the German could do nothing about it except try to delay the arrival of it. He had seen first-hand that, the longer Diana took to reach her release, the better it was. For this reason, he decided to slow down the pace of the movements, now replacing them with slower rubbing of her clit, fused with the penetration of her middle finger.

The screams were getting louder, and Vettel noticed how his wife's walls contracted on his finger with increasing frequency and violence. He felt the orgasm close to her, and that was the impulse to add one more finger inside her to the equation, accompanied by the entire surface of her tongue on her nerves. While the two fingers were entering and leaving Diana, Sebastian devoured her pussy with a little bit of difficulty due to the lack of access, but with an incredible hunger. He was excited, and he noticed how the precum began to come out of the tip of his penis. This served no purpose other than to give him more motivation to eat his wife as if he hadn't done so in a long time.

He needed to fuck her as soon as possible, but first he needed to please her. She always came first for him in sex, and it had become a ritual that emerged unexpectedly years ago, all thanks to Rosberg.

"I'm about to cum, sunshine," Diana shouted, hunching her back aggressively and lifting her head as high as she could while she kept pulling hard on her husband's hair. Let me do something, please; "I get on top of you and give you a blowjob while you follow her," she begged. “I’m serious, Seb, don't ignore me. Fuck!”

Sebastian, absorbed in giving her a good orgasm, because saying the best would be impossible. That position had been earned by those when celebrating their victory in the 2013 World Cup despite everything that it entailed later, he limited himself, without looking up, to denying him with the index finger of his free hand, feeling a resignation.

A few light bites on the clitoris and the increase in the thrusts, focusing on that point inside her that gave her so much pleasure, were the key to the arrival of the redhead's climax, who was holding onto the bed sheets tightly while he writhed wildly. Sebastian took some time to drink all the fluids out of him and let Diana calm down because there was still the best part of her left.

"That was... incredible. Simply incredible."

Vettel sat up, gladly took the remains of Diana's cum and lay down next to his wife, leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead and, later, on her lips, as the redhead came to taste herself.

"I'm the best at my job, what can I say? The best for my girl," he said modestly.

"So," Di commented before the German went on to the next thing and ignoring his words, "are you going to let me make you feel good or not?"

"No."

A mischievous smile began to form on the man's face. Although he was quite enjoying making his wife nervous, the truth is that she didn't want that day to focus on her.

If they were going to make a baby, all the attention had to go to Diana: for that she was the one who would carry it, with everything that entailed, for nine months, more or less.

"Not even a simple straw?," she tried to convince him. "Not even a suck? Come on, Seb."

"Don't insist any more, really."

"I hope at least that you let your besties do it for me," she approached her husband, taking her breasts, squeezing them and impatiently bringing them closer to his face.

Sebastian laughed, again refusing his wife's insistence.

"Diana," Vettel began to explain, "I want you to lie down," he gave her a short kiss, "and let me do everything," he took her by the waist and began to lay her down on the bed again. "Let me do all the work, love," he finished saying, standing upon top of her and beginning to rub his member against her intimacy. "Let me remind you that we're gonna make a baby, love, and you already know that in the Vettel's baby factory, children are made with love. Much affection and love."

She hated when her husband became dominant when they had sex and soon ended up acting as if he were a prince straight out of Disney movies.

"Yes, whatever you say," the Austrian reprimanded. "It's not fair, Seb. I want to make you feel good too."

"It's not fair either that you suffer during pregnancy and I just stand by and watch," that's when I had to agree with him. "You...," he corrected herself, "you all women do everything. We only take part in the fun part."

Again, without letting the redhead say anything else, he began to spread kisses along her neck, sucking on the spots she liked the most. At the same time, he began to rub himself impatiently on the girl's stomach, masturbating himself so that his erection would not go down even though it was impossible at that point.

"I love when you do that..." Di moaned when she noticed how the German's teeth dug lightly into her skin, "although I would like more to have you inside me."

"Patience, Diana."

Sebastian continued kissing his wife's entire throat, who was making increasingly aggressive gestures as her pleasure increased. His penis was becoming more and more erect and, as he could tell by touching Diana's lips, she was very wet again.

"Please, Seb, don't stop," the redhead moaned in desperation when she stopped feeling the German's lips. I want you to do something else now, please.

"What do you want me to do?"

A mischievous smile appeared on the blonde's face at the possibilities that were going through his mind right now about what he could do with Diana. He looked at the time on his digital watch, and when he saw that it was almost twenty to one in the morning, something in him changed.

"Do you want to be in control now, Königin?," the former driver commented with a hoarse and serious voice. "Is that what you want?"

“If you know that’s what I want, I don't know why you're asking me then.”

"Well," replied Sebastian, who had already reached the height of excitement, "let's do it my way because you haven't given me a clear answer..."

Before Diana could say anything else, he gave her another good kiss, although this time he showed much more desperation than anyone they had shared earlier that same night.

"Are you going to leave me like that or what?," said the woman, who saw that her husband was not up to the task of what he had promised her and, therefore, he stepped away from her. "Switch positions with me right now and lie on the fucking bed, Sebastian."

He did as requested, completely surprised by the words she had let out of her mouth, even though it was not the first time she had seen the Austrian woman behave like that with him during their intimate moments.

Diana had many facets, but the one where she had control during sex was secretly her second favorite, followed right after the one of her being the world's best mother.

The girl, once her husband was lying down, desperately grabbed his member and began to move it up and down, at the same time as she clumsily pleasured herself. Within a few seconds she already had it in her mouth, constantly putting it in and out of her lips and masturbating what she couldn't fit due to its length.

"Are you going to let me fuck you now or not?," Sebastian verbalized, trying not to sound desperate.

"You'll fuck me when I decide it, Vettel," the girl said. "So now you better shut up for a while. Let me continue doing my job or I'm afraid I'll have to stop too."

"Princess..." Seb complained.

Diana couldn't take it anymore no matter how much she tried to make excuses for herself and restrain her husband. She hated it when Sebastian begged her: she was tough, and she coped differently depending on the day. Suddenly, and to the German's surprise, the girl straddled him and aligned her entrance with his member, slowly letting herself fall to torture him, to which Sebastian responded with loud gasps accompanied by several expletives towards the redhead, which served to excite him. even more.

Finally, Diana lowered herself completely, letting out a scream as soon as she felt the German's cock completely inside her. At first she put her hands on Sebastian's chest, although she quickly moved them to the edge of the headboard when she saw that her husband wanted access to her breasts, which he began to caress more than with desire, with affection, focusing on the nipples especially, while massaging them together.

The redhead increased the promising rhythm of her hips when she saw that the faces she was making at the blonde showed that he was getting closer to orgasm. To help her, he took her waist, helping her in that swing that her hips were so accustomed to doing.

"Honey, I'm close," said Sebastian, who was having a hard time even speaking.

This only served to make Diana squeeze her insides and increase, if possible, her speed, even causing her a little damage. The German's heartbreaking screams were filling her ears, and as soon as she began to touch herself to try to reach the orgasm at the same time as Sebastian's, she joined his gasps.

"God, Diana, there. Yes!"

A few more thrusts were enough for Sebastian to cum inside his wife, who continued riding him with impetus. Just a minute later, she had also reached the long-awaited second orgasm of the day, without a doubt much better than the first one.

Diana, with her legs shaking, carefully got off her husband, who helped her even though he couldn't even handle his own body. The woman laid down next to him, tangling her legs next to his. Sebastian, as soon as he had her next to him, took her in his arms and began to caress her and kiss her delicatel, all over her face.

Sleep began to take its toll on their bodies, and as soon as they began to get closer to each other, yawns replaced moans. Despite being aware that they had to get up in less than four hours, they would not change anything that had happened between them moments before.

"I never get tired of kissing you," Diana commented, sliding her fingers through Sebastian's hair and snuggling with him, "or hugging you, or anything with you." “I am very lucky to have you, and I would live again everything we have gone through in this and a thousand other lives to be with you,” the woman acknowledged.

"I'm the lucky one, Di," he said only and honestly as he placed a kiss on her forehead for the umpteenth time that day, "and you'll never know how much."

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula one #vettel #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel x female oc #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 smut #f1 fluff #sebastian vettel fluff #fluff #smut #sebastian vettel smut

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diaryofaprettyprincess · 6 months

Note

hiii i’m sorry i actually can’t remember if i sent this before or not😭could you maybe write smth with eddie getting an innocent reader high for the first time? <3

(hi angel !! u havent sent this before so <33 hope u enjoy!! *sorry if this kinda sucks i wrote it at like three am KDSJF)) (also i wrote about her smoking for the first time but i didnt touch much on her getting high really.. if u want me to write just that lmk!!)

✧˚₊‧ 🧸 ✧˚₊‧

eddie originally invited u over to his trailer because he mentioned how he was failing math and needed ur help studying. of course, you complied, wanting to help him (and spend time with him as youve had a crush on him for months) (and of course he didnt actually want ur help studying, he just used that as an excuse to hangout with u as he has had a crush on u for a good two years).

but now, after helping him study for a good hour, he declared he needed a break. this break included him playing some of the most intense music youve ever heard posing as 'background music' whilst he smoked a rolled blunt.

he asked you if u were comfortable with him smoking in the same room as you, and because u were a curious creature (never being around any sort of drug), you nodded, saying you were fine with it.

eddie thought you were odd, in a good way of course. god, he wanted you so badly..but he didnt want to scare you off. he knew how sensitive you were to certain things. so when you sat right down in front of him as he smoked, staring at him with gloriously curious doe eyes, watching him take a drag from his joint--he was surprised to say the very least.

eddie watches the way youre eyeing the joint between his plush lips as he inhales, eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you sitting across from him on his bed; kneeling on his mattress--hands folded in your lap politely n ur eyes full of wonder but hesitancy as u chew on ur lower lip. you watch the metalhead blow the smoke from his mouth, an arm behind his head as he lies back against his pillows.

"you wanna try?" he asks, holding the joint out to you as he blows the smoke up in the air. he can feel the way your eyes trace his movements.

you giggle nervously, flustered. "o-oh, uhm, i dunno.. 've never tried such things before!"

thats something else eddie loved about you.

when you got shy you talked like some sort of disney princess.

he smirks, amused. his eyes are half lidded n red as he swipes his tongue along the fat of his bottom lip.

"c'mon.." his voice is playful. "'see the way ur eyein' it, princess.. i'll help you through it, dont worry." eddie takes a small drag from the end of his blunt once more.

fuck, hes so high. and horny. high and horny. maybe not the greatest combo when the girl he's liked for years is sitting right in front of him looking so..soft and beautiful.

does ur skin always glow this vibrantly?

"i just--'ve never done stuff like this. what if i act funny?" your lips form into a pout, concern lacing in ur features.

why did you have to be so cute and irresistable?

"'s okay, angel. promise i wont judge..could never judge a sweet girl like you," his praise makes you preen as you blush. "c'mon, come sit next to me, ill talk ya through it, mk?"

you nod, butterflies fluttering in ur tummy. besides the heavy smell of weed, eddie smelled so yummy to you. he was addicting to be around.

you sat next to him on his bed, pulling ur skirt down a bit as you get comfortable.

"now, just put ur lips around the end and inhale, okay? u might cough a bit but it'll go away," eddie brings the lit joint to ur glossed lips as ur eyes round with inexperience. the metalhead maintains eye contact with u as u inhale sharply, immediately bending forward and coughing as he pats ur back. "'s okay, princess, ur okay.." his ringed fingers rub ur back as u struggle to breathe.

a few seconds pass and u feel better. ur head is light but heavy.

"wanna try again? should've probably told u to inhale slowly..forget u dont know much about this stuff." he tucks a loose strand of hair behind ur ear and u feel ur heart speed.

u nod. "yes, please!"

eddie smiles gently at your eagerness. "alright, sweet girl, remember..nice n easy, okay? inhale gently and slowly."

you nod a bit as he brings the joint to ur lips. his left hand rubs up and down your right arm comfortingly. that act alone makes the butterflies that once only fluttered inside ur belly swirl into a storm.

eddie watches ur lips as u inhale slowly.

"good, baby.. nice n easy, okay? doin' so good.." his voice is so soft and gentle as he tenderly squeezes ur arm as u blow the smoke from ur lips.

u giggle when done, clapping excitedly before you're hit with a wave of tranquility.

eddie smiles. "u okay, honey?"

u smile back.

u were more than okay.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x innocent!reader #innocent!reader #mail 💌#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie st4 #girly!reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson xreader

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purrrrplecats · 6 days

Text

oh no i found it

the in correct quote generato-

(there a lot so if you don't want to read lots don't click keep reading)(theres loads i think 50-)

Scar: Grian and I are so close we even share a toothbrush. Grian: We what?

(he appoligised abt the joke later on.)

Mumbo: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Grian: Hey, are you alright with swearing? Asking for a friend. Scar: Yeah? Grian: Bitch.

Mumbo: Is… Is that meant to be on fire? Grian: No… not really. Mumbo: Are you going to do something about it? Grian: Hm… nah.

Grian: Your future self is talking shit about you right now. Scar: Jokes on them. I'll ruin their fucking life.

Pearl: If looking good was a crime, you’d be a law abiding citizen.

Pearl: I’m proud to say I’ve come over my fear of ghosts! Grian: Eyy, that’s the spirit! Pearl: gasps whErE???!!!??

Impulse: So I have made the decision to trust you. Grian: A horrible decision, really.

Grian: Gem, is that my mug you’re drinking out of? Gem: No, it’s mine. Grian: It… looks just like the one I have… Gem: You don’t have one like this anymore.

(its and mug with pink and blue snails on it.)

Gem: This should be illegal! Pearl: It is.

Pearl: Okay, let's split 'em up and make 'em sing. Impulse: Two of you take Gem, the other two take Grian. Scar: Right. Bad cop, good cop. Mumbo: You know, it's interesting that they say "bad cop, good cop," because policing in this country is so broken it's really just "bad cop, bad cop". Impulse: Scar, you're with them. Scar: Got it.

Grian: Norwegia. Is. Not. A. COUNTRY! Scar: Then where are Norwegian people from!? Impulse: NORWAY!!

Impulse: Would you slap Pearl- Grian: Yes. Impulse: I didn't even finish! Grian: Sorry, continue. Impulse: Would you slap Pearl for 10 dollars? Grian: I would do it for free. Pearl: Rude…

(you could also swap Grian and Pearl around because I mean, SKYLINGS)

Grian: If you want my advice- Pearl: No offense but you’re the last person I want relationship advice from. You tried to kill your significant other. Multiple times. Grian: First off, that was before we started dating. Secondly, they’ve also tried to kill me. Scar: It’s true. It was mutually attempted murder.

Scar, to the Squad: The real secret to immortality? Not dying. You want to be immortal? Okay, that’s easy. Just don’t die. That’s it. Refuse to die. There you go. Impulse: But how- Scar, ignoring them: “But how”, you may ask. Well, easy. Just don’t do it. Refuse to. Say “no thanks”.

Gem: I am strong! I beat Grian at arm wrestling! Impulse: Anyone can beat Grian at arm wrestling! Grian: Hey-

(sure Impulse sure-)

Gem: Grian, I am nothing if not a Woman of principle. Gem: Now let’s break into this apartment.

Pearl: Would anyone know any good vendors for professional-quality brass knuckles? Gem: I know you’re serious, but you say the scariest shit sometimes.

(again you could swap them around)

Pearl: Hey, you want a tarot reading? Mumbo: Those are Pokemon cards. Pearl: You got a magikarp. Mumbo: … Pearl: It means 'fuck you'.

Grian: Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere Gem: Where did you get that? Grian: My pocket. Gem: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket? Grian: Skills.

Scar: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’.

Scar: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once and it offends me.

Impulse: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE! Impulse: SCAR IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW! Impulse: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

Gem: Hey Pearl, check out this funny .GIF I found! Pearl: It’s pronounced “jif”. Gem: Huh? Pearl: “Dot jif”, like the peanut butter. The creator said so. Gem: That’s dumb, it’s Graphics Interchange Format. Pearl: The P in .JPEG stands for “photographic”, but I bet you don’t say “J-pheg”. Gem: “P” on its own isn’t pronounced like “F”, that’s totally different! Pearl: It’s exactly the same! Gem: Name one word that starts with “G” pronounced like “J”. Pearl: Gentrification. Gem: Shoot, should have thought of that. I was just in San Francisco. Pearl: For your logic to be consistent, you’d have to say “skuh-bah” (scuba) or “lah-seer” (laser)! Gem: Yeah? Well, you’d have to say “J-pej”! Gem: …Wait, “laser” is an acronym? Pearl: Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. Gem: Huh. Didn’t know that. Gem: You’re still wrong, though. Pearl: You just hate me because I’m right. Gem: I just hate you in general. Pearl: You mean in “geh-neral”? Gem: Ugh, I’m “joing” to kill you!

Scar: What's worse than a heartbreak? Grian: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging. Mumbo: Waking up in the morning. Gem: Waking up.

Scar: I love you. Grian: Me too.

Grian: Fight me! Scar: gets on one knee and pulls out a ring Scar: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Pearl: What’s your favorite color? Gem: Stop asking stupid questions. Ask me something logical and mature. Pearl: How many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralize 0.8ml of sulfuric acid at STP? Gem: My favorite color is pink.

Grian: Do you love me? Mumbo: We’re literally married. Grian: Yeah, but as friends or—

(logic is that Waffle duo got married as a bit like Clingy duo (Tubbo and Tommy) but G is like Tommy and doesn't want to get a divorce because he wants to commit it the bit.)

Grian: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done. Pearl: When we were younger, you convinced me eggs weren't real. Grian: They're not. Pearl: Haha, very funny. Grian: I'm serious. Didn't you hear? Pearl: No… what happened? Grian: …Why would you fall for this again-

Scar: Welcome to Fucking Applebees, do you want apples or bees? Gem: Bees? Scar: THEY HAVE SELECTED THE BEES! Gem: Wait- Impulse approaches, shaking a jar of bees menacingly

Scar: Mx. Grian, I accidentally dropped my seed into my mouth and then I accidentally ate it. Am I going to have a lemon tree grow inside my belly? Grian: Well, let's think about it. Did you also swallow a wet paper towel? Scar: Yes. Grian: Grian: Alright, let's go to the nurse.

Grian: Some people are like slinkies. Pearl: What? Grian: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs. Pearl: Pearl: Please don't push Scar down the stairs. Grian, pushing Scar down the stairs: Too late.

Pearl: You’re just being paranoid. Again. Scar: When have I been paranoid? Pearl: Um, when you first met Gem you thought they were an undercover cop…? Scar: No one has a wart that big, I thought it was a surveillance camera! Pearl: And last year you were sure Impulse was a mermaid! Scar: They hate wearing shirts! COINCIDENCE?! Later, when Scar’s theory is proven wrong Pearl: Do you have anything to say for yourself? Scar: I still think Impulse is a mermaid.

Grian: Scar, Pearl keeps bullying me at school. Scar: Ask your teacher for help. The next day… Grian, to their teacher: Will you help me beat up Pearl?

Pearl: Being gay isn't a choice. It's a game and I'm winning.

Scar: Being gay isn't a choice. It's a game and I'm winning.

(same quote 2 times in a row!?!?!)

Impulse, near tears: Please, Grian, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!

Gem: I need to dye my hair. Impulse: … Gem: Or get another tattoo. Impulse: … Gem: Or a new piercing. Impulse: Why? Gem: To, you know, appease the mental breakdown gods.

Grian: aggressively throws pencil at Scar Grian, deadpan: Oh no. I’ve been stabbed. I’ve been impaled.

(Double Life = soulmates)

Scar : So you like cats? Grian: Yeah. Scar : tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table

Impulse: What have you done with Scar ?

Grian: Nothing. Why, do you think I should?

Pearl: Scar , let’s go! Grian : Oh, yeah, about telling Mom and Dad, I was thinking about writing maybe a letter. Pearl: Okay, you know what? That’s it, you had your chance. Grian : What-? Pearl: Mom, Dad, Scar smoked pot in college. Grian : You are such a tattletale! Grian : Mom, Dad, you remember that time you walked into my room and smelled marijuana? Well, I told you it was Jimmy who was smoking the pot but… It was me. I’m sorry. Pearl: And Dad, you know that mailman that you got fired? He didn’t steal your Playboy’s, Grian did. Grian : Yeah, well, hurricane Gloria didn’t break the porch swing Pearl did. Pearl: Grian hasn’t worked for a year! Grian : Pearl and Gem are living together! Pearl: Grian married Scar in Vegas and got divorced AGAIN! Jimmy: I love Jacques Cousteau! Etho: I wasn’t supposed to put beef in the trifle! Doc: I wanna gooo!!

(I changed some names, aka added Doc, Etho and Jimmy, also Etho is the mum Docs the dad, and Tim is ofc the younger brother.) (the family situation is defo not from TTSBC)

Mumbo: I will send my army to attack! Mumbo: releases a dumpster of raccoons

Gem, throwing their head into Pearl's lap: Tell me I'm pretty! Pearl, lovingly stroking their hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

(awwwwww)

Squad is playing Among Us Grian: I believe Pearl is innocent, I was with them the whole time. Mumbo, what were you doing? Mumbo: Oh, I was just murdering… I mean, nothing!

(I was gonna change Pearl to Scar and change Mumbo to Impulse because Impulsetor)

Pearl, in the hospital: Will you visit me when I get out? Grian: Lol nah, I hate graveyards.

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strayed-quokka · 2 years

Text

sex is overrated || ji changmin

» summary: you knew what you liked in the bedroom but men never seemed to take a hint. maybe it was your fault. or maybe they were just really fucking vanilla. nevertheless, your best friend is determined to prove to you that he knows exactly how to make a girl come, and you're no exception.

» pairing: ji changmin x female reader

» rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

» genre: best friends to lovers, ruin the friendship, smut, porn with some plot, a little fluff

» warnings: where to begin... dom changmin, sub reader, changmin is massive, fingering, oral (f & m), rough sex, face sitting, deep throating, squirting, spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, chocking, restraints (pink handcuffs hello whisper), face fucking, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia if you squint (?), degradation, a nude photo, marking, biting, scratching, mild bruising, creampie, changmin is an aftercare king though... i think i got it all but will double check.

» words: 5,051

» a/n: whisper. that’s it. also probably the filthiest thing i've ever written so i'm going to pour some holy water now and pg-13 my eyes a little... feedback and comments are greatly appreciated x

Sex was always exaggerated pleasure.

At least sex was never any good. Not good enough to justify laying naked in a stranger's bed before leaving early in the morning to go home. You weren’t sure if maybe there was something wrong with you, but they just all seemed to be so pathetically vanilla.

“You look fucking miserable, jesus christ,” your best friend since a particularly terrible high school party a few years ago, Changmin, scowls at you, his hair unbrushed on his head and his eyes still tired. It’s surprising that he’s even awake.

“I am miserable, Minnie,” he grimaces, grabbing another mug from the endless ones you both have (it may have something to do with your need to buy a disney themed one every time you see one), pouring you an extra large cup of black coffee.

“I’m sorry angel,” he pouts, and you gratefully take the scolding beverage from him before adding some milk.

“Why are men so shit in bed? Why is sex so overrated?” the platinum blond young man seems unfazed at first, given that you’ve probably asked him this at least once every two weeks for the past year. He was used to it, and every time he could only offer the same few solutions. Tell them what they want, and trial and error it. It was never a one size fits all.

You knew that, but you were also impatient and in your sexual prime, and no one was satisfying you. You couldn’t remember when you’d last had an orgasm that you didn’t bring on yourself. Anyway, here you sit against the kitchen island with disappointment pulling all your features down, and your best friend sighs, “go shower. We can talk about it after.”

You listen to him. Changmin was probably the only man on this entire planet that you rarely if ever argued with. He just understood you, sometimes it made you even wonder if he read your journal, because how the hell did he just get it?

“Minnie, can I ask you a question?” you ask, brushing through your wet hair as the man looks at you when you come back into the room refreshed. You’re wearing his shirt again, legs bare, and he wishes he wasn’t so perfectly willing to give them all to you as if they belonged in your wardrobe more than in his.

“Sure,” you put the brush down, thinking the question over in your mind before deciding to ask it anyway.

“Do you think you’re good in bed?”

It was probably the worst moment in time for Changmin to take a sip of his coffee, for now he was left choking and coughing horrifically while you reached around to pat his back. He was trying to remember in his mind if you’d ever asked him a question quite like this, but quickly determined that this may’ve been the boldest thing he’d ever been asked by you.

It’s not that Changmin necessarily kept his sex life a secret from you, nor did you keep yours hidden, but you’d never directly asked him if he actually thought he was any good.

“Are you asking me in hopes I say yes so you don’t entirely give up on your sexcapades?”

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter across from him, “at least tell me you know how to make a girl come. That’s enough for me.”

He doesn’t know if the temperature in the room has risen or if he’s just warmer, but the vulgarity in which you ask makes him feel weaker. That being said, he liked to believe that he could confidently tell you that he could, and that it wouldn’t be a lie, “Are you telling me you’ve never once heard me had sex?”

Now it’s your turn to blush, turning your head away from him to stare at the wall ahead, “I mean… I wasn’t going to say it and embarrass you.”

He likes this push and pull, the teasing nature that your question brought, and there’s something about you becoming more shy that makes him more confident, “you tell me then.”

He got you there. Not only had you heard some of the girls he’d been with, but they’d been more than vocal. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine ever being that loud, but then again, no one ever did anything that made you feel the need to scream.

“I have another question,” you start, and he nods as his lips turn upward into a grin, his deep dimples on full display for you. He’s nothing short of charming and sweet.

“You’re full of those today, aren’t you?”

“You sure they never faked it?”

Changmin can remember the few times he’s been rendered speechless, but none even came close to the way he falters now. He guesses there wasn’t ever a way of truly knowing, but it had been a long time since he felt like a girl wasn’t genuine with him. Honestly, the last time was probably back when he was still incredibly inexperienced.

“Want to find out for yourself?” it’s an invitation that he doesn’t quite realise he’s given before it’s already too late, but he’s grateful that his voice always holds a hint of teasing so that if you completely turned away in disgust, he could somehow get away with it being a joke.

Both of you stand there silently, and Changmin is close to apologising for maybe crossing a line with you, but you cut him off first.

“Okay,” he thinks he’s going crazy, like he’s hallucinating and losing his mind, but you don’t seem to back down, “but we should lay some ground rules first.”

Changmin didn’t know what he’d done in his life that resulted in him sat across from you at the dinner table with a notebook in front of him and a blue pen in hand writing down a list of what the two of you should be in agreement with before you’d have sex.

It sounded ridiculous, but he guessed this is how most friendships fell apart. There was always a risk involved.

“Alright, let me see it,” he turns the notebook around towards you, and you read it all outloud one by one, pausing in-between to see if he has any objections or anything to add.

“If one of us feels uncomfortable we stop, no questions asked. If one of us catches feelings, we stop with no ill will and we won’t talk about it unless the person is okay with it. Traffic light system if ever necessary with tapping system if…” you pause, swallowing, “if traffic system can’t be used.”

Honestly, it makes you wonder what the hell you two may get up to, and it definitely makes you wonder if you should really be doing this. Changmin seems to see it too, the way you hesitate, “we don’t have to-”

“I know,” but you want to, “Minnie?”

“Hmm?”

“You remember what I like, right?”

“I mean… I know what you complain about when you come home unsatisfied, if that’s what you’re on about,” you nod, looking at the way his face illuminates with the dimmed light in the room. He’s beautiful. You've always thought it, but never had it been more than surface level admiration.

“Alright so…” this doesn’t feel natural. Maybe you need alcohol, but you also don’t want it to intoxicate your mind and hinder coherent thoughts. You just don’t know how to go about this.

Changmin stands up, his chair dragging along the wooden floor when he does, “I mean… you’re free now, right?”

It makes you laugh, getting up to briefly put your long empty mug in the sink before you jump up on the counter. His shirt rises with your movements and he moves closer to you instantly, already asking the next question, “can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” he waits an agonisingly long time before his eyes flutter closed and his lips fall onto yours, but it’s enough to make you wonder why the hell you both took so long to do this. He’s good at kissing you, quick with changing pace so that you don’t get bored and rough with his hands on your body. It’s exactly what you’d want, and you wonder if maybe Changmin paid even more attention to the things you’d carelessly said in the past than you thought.

You moan against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth and roughly tugs at your hair, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as your legs part for him to stand between. It drives you wild, and you feel just a little pathetic with how good you feel from something as simple as a kiss.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he pants against your lips, pushing the fabric you’re wearing up above your hips, your lace black panties in full view for him and the man nearly falls to his knees for you then. There’s something about you that works similarly to a drug, and he can’t wait another second before he strips your (well, his), shirt off and throws it to the floor.

“Fuck,” he’s eyeing you hungrily, and normally such a gaze at your bare body may leave you wanting to cover up. But the way Changmin looks at you is so desperate and hungry that you blurt out the next words before you’ve thought of it.

“Take a picture,” he can’t believe his luck, nor does he know what galaxy he saved in another life, but he’s practically tearing his phone from his pocket and fumbling to unlock it, nearly dropping it in the process.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Changmin. I’m sure,” it’s all the reassurance he needs, and the image he takes is enough to make his cock hard and strain against his sweatpants painfully. He throws his phone to the side, pulling his own shirt over his head and your mouth nearly waters at the sight you’re met with.

“Minnie…” you drag his name out in a whine, and he’s pulling you to your feet and practically shoving you down onto your knees in an instant before him.

“Yes, angel?” it’s a mocking tone, but the very way he speaks to you causes your pussy to clench and your underwear to cling to your folds. The fabric teases your clit when you move and the stimulation makes you quiver.

“Look at you, are you that weak?” you whine, licking the prominent v-line along his muscular stomach, before dipping your tongue beneath the fabric of his sweats. The blissful curses that leave his mouth and the grip he has on the back of your head is enough for you to pull the grey offending trousers down, his cock springing free.

“F-fuck,” maybe you were slowly starting to understand why girls were so loud with him. His cock was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, even to the point where you maybe thought that it was too much. Not only was the length impressive, but it was thick, enough that you struggled to wrap your hand around the base.

“Are you dumb off seeing my cock already? Haven’t even fucked you yet,” it was degrading maybe, to have him insult you, but you wanted him to. His words turned you on, and you stick your tongue out and place the head of his cock in your mouth.

You feel him grip a handful of hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as he steadies your head, your tongue lapping up his pre-cum and circling around the tip before you slowly try to ease him further into your mouth.

“Angel, you’re pathetic if that’s all you can take,” honestly, you’re inclined to agree. You’re barely halfway and your jaw already feels tense and your mouth feels full, but you try to relax and angle yourself slightly so that his cock pushes into your throat, “good girl.”

You cough, choking on your own spit and his cock but he keeps your head locked in place as tears spring to your eyes. It’s almost too much, but Changmin isn’t that cruel. He knows it and releases your head from his grip right after, allowing you to breathe.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he’s stunned into silence at first. Truly, he’d never met a girl so eager to have his cock in her mouth, but who is he to say no?

“Oh… was that not too much for you… hmm?”

“I’ll tap you three times if it is,” a pause, and then you look up at him, “I promise.”

He knows you’ll hold yourself to it. Even if he’d never experienced you sexually, he knows that you don’t go above your limits, so he trusts that you’ll let him know if you can’t take it.

“Open your mouth,” you obey eagerly, knees pushing further apart, and he’s pulling your hair and yanking your head back so you look up at him before he spits in your mouth.

Fuck, he even remembered that.

He guides your mouth back to his cock, and you angle yourself again to push him deeper down your throat. You stop when you gag, and he only pulls back just enough to stop you from choking. He’s still at first, as if studying your reaction, before he starts to move.

Changmin is relentless. Once he decides a certain pace, then that’s the way he’s going. He fucks your throat completely dry, and you only manage to get air for the second he spends pulling out of you before his cock stuffs you full again. Tears fall from your eyes and you moan, causing vibrations to hit his cock that only urge him on while you claw at his skin by his hips, trying to hold on to anything so you don’t fall over, scratching him until red angry marks taint his otherwise perfect skin.

“You’re gonna swallow all of my cum, aren’t you baby?” you whimper, feeling his cock twitch before he stills, holding your head in place as his cum shoots down your throat. You savour every drop, falling into his arms as he pulls you up to your feet and then up onto his waist, “you good?”

“Y-yes,” you clear your throat, letting him carry you over to his bedroom before he sits down on the edge, shuffling around with you on top of him. Your clothed pussy rubs against him and it makes you shake, even more when you realise that he’s pushing your body further up, “do you need a break?”

“No,” he nods, resting his head on a pillow whilst you straddle his chest. You think you have a minute to breathe, but then his hands grip your ass and forcefully drag you up until your clothed cunt is hovering right over his mouth.

“Min-”

“Hmm?” he kisses your thigh, and you nearly debate telling him that he doesn’t have to make you come. That you believe him when he says he knows exactly how to pleasure someone. Yet you’re convinced you’ll never get the mental image of him between your thighs out of your mind any time soon, and you’ll be damned if you let this go.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you were so wet,” he chuckles, kneading your ass as he leans up and kisses your clothed folds. Your entire body trembles, and you wonder if you may have an orgasm right then, “all because of my cock in your mouth, hmm?”

“Y-yes,” he pushes the fabric to the side, licking up your juices like he’s starved off the taste of you, and you feel your wetness drip onto his lips. You’re a moaning mess above him, only made louder when he spanks your ass.

“You’re such a slut, hmm?” you want to agree, but just as you’re about to, his tongue finds your clit and you lose it, pushing down enough to wonder if you’re suffocating him between your legs. If you are, Changmin doesn’t mind, for he keeps the rigorous pace and only occasionally stops when the fabric of your underwear slips back into place.

He growls, dissatisfied, and eventually he grips both ends of the flimsy fabric and tears it in half. Every movement he makes feels so messy and hungry, but you know everything is perfectly calculated.

His ring finger teases your entrance while his tongue is still teasing your clit, lightly sucking the flesh, and you definitely know he’s calculating everything when he pushes his finger into you just as he lightly bites down on the bundle of nerves.

“Changmin!” it’s rare, almost never, that you use his full name. Usually it’s when you’re angry, but in this case, it’s because you’ve lost most ability to think and say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“God, look how you clench around my finger,” he swears he sees stars with how tight you are, pushing another finger inside you to slowly open you up enough for his cock, his rings cooling against your heat. A string of curses fall from his lips, knowing it’ll likely require some patience if you’re already clenching around something so small.

“F-fuck,” you rock your hips against him, and he uses his free hand to press your thighs down, holding them in place as he laps his tongue back over your folds to where his fingers scissor you open, before running up to your clit. There’s a familiar coil in your stomach, but it grows all too quickly and without any warning while you desperately struggle against his harsh grip on your legs and his eagerness to taste you, “Chan- ahh.”

You briefly wonder if you may pass out, your entire body rising up though he moves with you, not once letting his fingers move even an inch out of you as he feels you convulse and shake above him.

It takes him another second to realise that you’ve squirted on his chest and up along his collarbone and neck when you rose up, and your cheeks go incredibly crimson when you realise that you’ve left him a complete mess. But to him, he’s never felt more accomplished in his life, “fuck, you’re doing that again.”

His fingers slip out of you, and he’s incredibly gentle when he lets you lay there to recollect your breathing and become aware of your surroundings again. You could safely say that not only could he make a girl come, but he’d given you the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Can I restrain you?”

The question catches you by surprise at first, and it takes pathetically long for you to react at first, “what for?”

“When I fuck you,” your eyes open, and there he is, sweating, still glistening slightly from your own orgasm, cock fully erect and dimples showing as he smiles.

He looks ethereal.

“Unless you’d rather stop for today? If it’s too much-”

“No! No, please don’t stop,” he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes while he reaches over and kneads your ass cheeks again, occasionally offering a light spank that causes your body to ripple against the mattress, moans leaving your lips.

You may lose your voice at this rate.

“So… can I?” You think about it for a second, before ultimately nodding and deciding it’s something you’d like to try.

“How do you want me?”

“God, you can’t just say that. I might die,” you laugh, at least happy to know that you affect him just as much as he affects you.

“But to answer the question…” he comes up behind you, chest pressing into your back as his cock grazes against your ass, making you subconsciously push against him, “I’d like you just like this.”

He adjusts the pillow, ensuring that your head is well rested if your hands are going to be bound against your back, limiting the amount of support you can give yourself. What shocks you the most is how the handcuffs he’d fished from his nightstand are not only a bright pink, but shaped like a heart, “didn’t take you as someone who’d have that.”

“Chanhee bought it as a joke. Don’t think he’d assume I’d actually use it,” you chuckle, briefly thinking of your friend who really probably didn’t think much of it (or maybe he did know), whilst Changmin restrains your wrists and tightens the metal, “too much?”

“No… but not tighter, please?” Changmin obeys, doesn’t push where he feels like he shouldn’t and instead pushes your knees apart, your pussy coated in your juices and now in full view for him as he’d stripped you off your last item of clothing.

An item that you could honestly throw away.

“Just tell me if you want me to free you,” but you don’t think you’ll want him to. Something about giving him complete control over you whilst he fucks you from behind makes you question your sanity, because you feel like you’ve never wanted anything else more.

The tip of his bare cock teases your entrance and you whimper, especially when he stills “can I fuck you raw?”

“Yes,” you'd expected an internal debate in your mind that never comes. You always used condoms. Hell, you couldn’t remember when you last didn’t, but you wanted to feel every inch of his cock inside you and suddenly that internal thought process didn’t matter. You were on birth control anyway.

“You’re going to kill me,” he slowly pushes his cock inside your sopping cunt, groaning at how tight you feel. He was going to have to take it inch by inch, quite literally, and the very thought was agonising to him.

“F-fuck… you don’t fit,” you’re laughing, and at least knowing that you’re amused has him relaxing from the thought of thinking he was causing you pain. He laughs with you, but it’s quickly lost as he pushes himself deeper inside you, the sound strangled in his throat, “oh my god.”

“You still have a bit more than half, you know?”

“Shut up, there’s no w- mhmm,” he shuts you up with a rather deep push of his hips, splitting you open around his shaft, “now it’s about half.”

He’s teasing you again, but it’s so incredibly hot that you don’t care. You’re convinced that Changmin is the sexiest man in the world with the way he’s set on fucking you stupid.

It’s never taken you this long to adjust to someone’s length and girth, but it’s a good few more minutes of Changmin pushing a little more every time until your ass finally meets his hips, “god, look at you. You’re drooling.”

He chuckles, and you realise he’s right, moaning as you feel yourself clench around him unintentionally. He really has you forget all coherent thought, completely unaware of your own reactions “you can move.”

The platinum blond does not need to be told more than once. He’s been waiting to move, been desperate to, as he moves in slow and languid thrusts, like he needs you to feel every inch of his cock inside you, “mhmm, more.”

“Already? Can you take it?” You nod, feeling him hold your head down against the pillow, his other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as he quickens his pace. You cry out his name almost instantly, screaming it over and over from the pleasure you feel, though it’s partially muffled.

“How good you take my cock.”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, feeling a sharp sting to your ass, but before you have time to respond, he’s taken the same hand he used to pull you up by the handcuffs that bind your wrists, your back twisted while he grips your hair and pulls you back into his shoulder, “h-harder.”

“Still?” he groans, obliging as he quickened his pace, his other free hand going around your waist and to your stomach, and he swears he can feel his cock inside you with every thrust, “mhmm fuck… I can feel my cock inside you.”

“Fuck... oh fuck, C-Changmin!” you wish your hands were free so you could touch him, but instead you have to rely on him to hold you up as he roughly pounds into you with no remorse. The pleasure becomes overbearing, but it’s brought to its peak when he dares test the waters with something you’d only mentioned once as something you wanted to try.

His hand that had been gripping your hair snakes around your throat, and at first he only squeezes lightly to see how you respond, if he should stop or keep going.

“C-Changmin! G-god. Please,” you whimper, tears falling from your eyes once again from the pleasure and he grins, biting down on your shoulder.

“Whore,” he groans, tightening the hand he has around your neck just slightly as he breathes into your ear, his grip enough to cause the oxygen in your brain to short circuit but not enough to make you feel in pain or like you’re in danger.

If your hands were free, you honestly think you’d make him grip you harder, and you know you’re about to fall over the edge.

It’s your inability to freely move and the way he holds you in place exactly the way he wants you with his cock deep inside you that makes you scream his name one more time, so loud that you'd be more surprised if the neighbours didn't hear it, your entire body shaking and clenching on his cock as you mess the sheets with your orgasm.

It’s the stimulation around his cock and the tightness that makes him lose control, and a mangled cry of your name leaves his lips when his cum spills into you, coating your walls and leaving you to collapse as he loses his strength to hold you, pleasured groans falling from his chapped lips.

You fall onto the bed, hands still bound behind your back with Changmin falling right next to you. Neither of you say anything, but both your heavy breaths are loud in the room as you try to collect yourself.

“We should shower,” you whine as a response, because you honestly don’t think you can move. Changmin doesn’t think he can either, but there’s no way he’s letting you lay in the mess you made with his cum still spilling out of you.

As absolutely feral and possessive as that makes him.

Your best friend unbinds the pink cuffs keeping your wrists together, wincing slightly as he sees how harshly you tugged at it even with the room he’d left. He brings them both to his lips, kissing the faint bruising as an apology falls from his mouth, but you don’t want him to be sorry.

“Please, if you dare apologise for the best sex of my life, I’ll kill you,” he chuckles, and you reach out lazily to poke his dimples, smiling when he squirms.

“I’ll get you ice at least,” he finally gets up, and while the muscles in his body scream at him, he lifts you up into his arms and into the bathroom, setting you down in the tiled shower whilst adjusting the temperature of the water.

“Wait here,” you nod, sat on the tiled floor in the shower as the water falls onto you, though you find it quite comfortable. Changmin comes back not long after, a few ice cubes wrapped around a towel that he holds to your wrist, kissing your forehead softly while brushing through your knotted hair. He’s completely different now, caring for you, and your heart swells in affection for him.

“Can I wash you?” you nod, and you sit there with him whilst he rubs your body wash over your skin and then his own, making sure you’re both clean and taking his time as he does. He winces at the faint bruising on your hip and around your shoulder where he’d bitten your skin, but you glare at him, reminding him not to think about it.

“Don’t pout about it,” you remind him, and he nods as he slowly begins to massage your scalp with your conditioner.

He cares for you so much, and you’ve never felt it more than now, still trying to recollect your thoughts while he ensures you’re okay even when his own exhaustion is threatening to have him pass out on you.

He even makes the bed for you both while you just sit and wait, fluffing the pillows for him, dressed in a new shirt of his while he's just adorning a pair of black boxers, and when he reaches for you to fall into his arms, you’re more than happy to.

You think with how you’re spent, you’d fall asleep in an instant, but instead you lazily brush Changmin’s hair from his forehead and kiss his shoulder. He lets you do whatever you want, watching you with a deep adoration and love, but it doesn’t scare you.

It doesn’t scare you, because you know when you look at him, it wasn’t just you who’d failed at keeping your feelings away.

“I love you,” he’s surprised to hear you say it first, but the warmth in his chest and the smile that threatens to slip just make you want to say it again and again.

“I love you too,” you nestle into his shoulder, still lazily playing with his hair while one of his hands hovers over your thigh, the other behind your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content.

“Also… next time, I’ll be the one leaving bruises,” Changmin laughs, and it’s a sound that brings you complete peace.

“I’m holding you to that but..." he pushes the fabric of his boxers down past his hipbone, revealing aggressive red marks that you barely remember leaving. There's a silence first, before you lean close and kiss the broken skin, "oh, please don't do that. I'll want to ruin you again."

You oblige. As desirable as the thought is, you're both tired, and you lay there silently for a few more minutes until he breaks it to ask you a question that's been on his mind since your first orgasm, "still think sex is overrated?"

You throw a pillow right onto his smug face as your answer.

well... i wrote that... i actually can't believe the ideas in my brain sometimes. also the resitance to switch it to another member because i'm weak for them??? guess we writing more boyz ✌️🥵

#the boyz smut #changmin smut #q smut #ji changmin #the boyz changmin #changmin x reader #the boyz q #smut #the boyz #the boyz changmin smut #q x reader #tbz x reader #tbz #whisper made me do it #tbz fluff #fluff if you swuint #changmin fluff #q fluff

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bibittybopittybadbxtch · 2 months

Text

Colors

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader

Word Count: ~ 1.1K

Warnings: None…I think

A/N: I’m on a SVT kick. So….here’s another Wonwoo fic. Love him so much. The sweetest. I hope y’all enjoy! This was so much fun to write. I also kinda wanna turn this into a series….let me know your thoughts. I love hearing from y’all. The first part is inspired by Colors by Halsey. There’s also a couple of disney quotes sprinkled in.

NOT MY GIF‼️‼️‼️‼️

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

XOXO, Bibi🩷

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Your last relationship had come into your life like a hurricane. He settled over you for a while, but in the end you were just another casualty. You were red and he was blue, a combination that created a beautiful lilac. Until he decided that purple just wasn't for him. He left destruction in his wake. You were left to pick up your own broken pieces, and learned how to live with the scars on your heart. For a while you were just a shell of the person you were before him. But after a year, you were stronger. You held your head higher, shoulders back, all the things your therapist taught you. You were learning how to enjoy your life on your own until you met someone new, Wonwoo.

“One date. If you still hate the idea of dating me after that, I promise I’ll leave you alone.” Wonwoo looked two seconds away from getting on his knees and begging. He had sworn he did not believe in “love at first sight” until he saw you. As cliche as it sounds the sight of you was like looking into the sun. He’d told you so himself. To which you rolled your eyes in a very ladylike fashion and walked away. Back to the moment at hand, he had been asking you out for months. You were friends and he always presented date ideas in a respectful, light hearted manner but you knew he was serious. His eyes never told a lie. Looking up into those big brown orbs it broke your heart to say no to him once again. “Wonwoo, no. I told you. I don’t wanna jeopardize our friendship.” He hadn’t seen you before. He only knew the new and improved you. You feared that opening up to him would agitate old wounds. You had lost enough people over the years and weren’t willing to lose Wonwoo too. “Come on Sunshine, you know that wouldn’t happen. We won’t let it.” Despite what you thought to be your better judgment, you said yes.

First dates were awkward. Common knowledge, basic fact, first dates felt like having chicken pox. Except this was Wonwoo, and of course it wasn’t awkward. He was still your dorky best friend. He knew you, better than you knew yourself. He took you to a drive in movie. You sat in the car and cracked jokes and threw popcorn at each other. The night ended with ice cream and Wonwoo walked you to your door. “So..am I gonna get another date?” He asked hopefully. You saw his ears tinge pink under the porch light. You pretend to think about it. Just to watch him squirm before you smile at him, “Yes, I´d actually really like that”. The smile that stretches across Wonwoo’s face is forever burned in your memory. He sweeps you into a hug, before bidding you goodnight. That night you call your best friend, you recount every moment in detail. She knows before you do that you’re falling in love.

Wonwoo picks you up the following Friday, a beautiful bouquet of daisies in his hand.”You ready Sunshine?” He asks as he takes your hand. “Well, I’d say yes but I don’t know where we are going.” He chuckles and leads you to the car before opening the door, “Do you trust me?”. “With my life,” you reply earnestly as you get in the passenger seat. Trusting him was the easiest thing you had ever done. From the moment you met him Wonwoo had been nothing but reliable. It didn’t matter if it was 2am or snowing, he found a way to be there for you. Never one to disappoint, that was Wonwoo through and through.

When the car finally comes to a stop after an hour's drive to the outskirts of the city, the sight in front of you almost makes you cry. You were at a sky lantern festival. At the beginning of your friendship, you had mentioned how you wanted to go to him. He remembered. “Wonwoo..” you begin, you don't know what you had to say. Wonwoo just looks at you and smiles warmly before getting out of the car. You're unbelievably touched. Wonwoo was by all means not an outdoors person, but the fact he held on to your words and went out of his way, brings tears to your eyes. After retrieving your lanterns the two of you find a space on the large expanse of grass. You both sit down and start decorating your respective lanterns when an idea hits you. You grab your notebook from your bag and rip out a page. Wonwoo looks over at you puzzled, “What are you doing?” “Let’s make a wish. Write your wish on the paper, when the wish comes true we tell each other.” Wonwoo agrees because how could he ever say no to you. You finish your lanterns and release them at the end of the festival, wishes tucked safely in your respective pockets. That night when Wonwoo walks you to your door, he asks you to be his girlfriend.

Two years later Wonwoo takes you back to the same field that held the lantern festival, and proposes. In the ring box, there is a small piece of paper that you recognize from a notebook that has been long forgotten. You recognize Wonwoo’s chicken scratch. “Y/N” with a small heart. “Sunshine, you were always my wish. Will you marry me?” You launch yourself at him sobbing. “So, is that a yes?” he asks cheekily. “In every language. Oui, Si, Ja, Yes.”

On the car ride home, Wonwoo sees you digging around your bag for something. “What are you looking for?” “Hold on. I know it's in here somewhere.” You bring out your wallet before unzipping it. You shuffle around for a second before pulling out a small piece of paper. “What’s that?” Wonwoo asks as he glances over before returning his attention back to the road. “My wish” you state proudly. “Oh yeah? What was your wish?” You flash him your brightest smile before unfolding it and showing him. There is your delicate handwriting. He sees his name “Wonwoo” with a smiley face. Wonwoo swears his heart is gonna explode. “You made me believe in love again. You restored my faith in humanity. You made me whole.” You tell him through your tears. Wonwoo pulls the car over and cradles your face, wiping your tears. “No, Sunshine. You did that all by yourself. I’m just here to appreciate your hard work.” He kisses you.

#wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #svt #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svtgifs #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo

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callsignangel · 1 year

Text

screen rant babe - two

warnings: fluff galoreeeeee word count: 1067 a/n: hi friends! it's finally here. i've never actually been to disneyland so there's probably some inaccuracies there. this is short but i promise the next part will be everything y'all are wishing for hehe. otherwise this was really fun to write, and i hope you enjoy it! reblogs and feedback about my work is deeply appreciated. <3

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when jack suggested going to disneyland, you laughed and agreed to go thinking it would never happen - that it was just quick infatuation and that you'd never see him again. boy, were you wrong.

he had found and followed you on all of your public social media accounts and even posted about your interview on instagram. his blank stare and painfully obvious crush on you quickly became a meme in the avatar fandom. it never really sunk in for you until you got a dm from the rising star himself.

in the brief conversation you had with him after the interview, he managed to get enough information about you that he needed - except your phone number. he internally cursed himself for that, and spent the rest of his day trying to search for you on every platform he could. most of the younger cast laughed at him for his vigorous search for the screen rant babe, but bailey and trinity being the absolute sweethearts they are were more than happy to help him.

it took you by mighty surprise when the notification of his message request lit up your phone. almost choked on your cereal, in fact.

jackchampion: hey! just checking in to see if we're still on for disneyland one of these days. i would also love to get your number so we can discuss plans easier (:

oh my god. he was serious. you replied as quickly as you could, giving him your number and telling him that you were definitely still on for your disneyland date. you were leaving for london in less than two days, and the way he was planning made it sound like you were going to be slaves to the mouse for a lot more time than you had. park hoppers, all of the rides, the ultimate experience. jack champion, full time disney fanboy.

his name and the selfie you took together at the interview lit up your screen. he was CALLING YOU. most likely to thoroughly discuss said plans, but it still caught you by surprise. he was so direct, so focused on you. cute, chivalrous, quick on his feet, full of surprises. what more could you want in a man?

you picked up the phone in a giddy panic, barely managing to let out a garbled greeting. his heavenly laugh echoed through the other side, returning your greeting. it didn’t take him long before he immediately launched into your full disneyland itinerary. “so i was thinking i could come get you around 7ish so we can get there early and beat the opening rush-” “7 in the morning? you’re crazy!” you giggled, swiftly apologizing for interrupting him. he was really crazy. crazy for you, that is.

eventually you managed to figure out what you were going to do at the parks the next day. there were a couple rides you specifically wanted to go on, and he made sure to get fastpasses. “i’m really excited to see you tomorrow,” he said softly, as if he was cautiously trying to navigate unsteady waters. “i’m really excited to see you too, jack. it’s going to be so fun!” you should’ve seen the smile he cracked when you returned his excitement.

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he showed up to your hotel with a giddy grin on his face at 7 the next morning. he was clearly well rested and ready for the day, whilst you had been awake the entire night trying to figure out if this was a dream. and here he was, getting out of his car to come around and open your door for you. he was the definition of chivalry, and it made your heart almost burst. once you were settled in his car and you were on your way, he kept taking small glances of you. “did you wanna stop anywhere before we head to the park?” he inquired. “do they allow outside drinks? because i am dying for coffee right now.” “when my liege asks for coffee, we shall get them their coffee."

after a quick dunkin run and trying to figure out the maze that is the disneyland parking system, you both finally made it into the park. “so, what should we do first?” he inquired. “i need to get a pair of ears before we can do anything else,” you replied, frantically looking for a gift shop. he chuckled before realizing that you were moving too fast for him to keep up in the swarm of other guests at the park. without thinking, he grabbed your coffee-free hand. it was electrifying, like an entire city without power had just lit up. you gave him a warm smile as you kept walking, giving his hand a good squeeze. he returned your smile, thankful that he hadn’t cursed this date with his awkwardness. you thought it was charming, his obliviousness in certain situations.

when you finally found a gift shop with a wall of ears, you were overjoyed. so many options, so little time. you asked him his opinion of certain ears, like if they looked good on you or if they suited you. he always said yes. you looked beautiful to him. when you finally picked out a pair of ears inspired by the scarlet witch, you encouraged him to get a vision pair to match with you. he happily obliged. “weren’t you in avengers endgame?” “for maybe 10 seconds, i didn’t even speak,” “still an oscar worthy performance, and you met paul rudd!”

the small gift shop was filled with your joint laughter. he put his vision inspired ears on his head, and quickly pulled out his phone. there was a small mirror by the wall of ears, and he pulled you close to it so he could take a picture of you both with your matching ears. a bright smile and a quick snap later, he told you that would be his new wallpaper. “so, now that you’ve got your ears, should we hit up avenger’s campus first?” “hell yeah, i really want one of those big iron man hand drink things…” you had grabbed his hand without question as you left the shop and had thrown your now empty coffee cup away. it felt right, holding his hand. like it was perfectly molded to yours. “and churros! we need to get churros.” it was going to be a good day.

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taglist: @gcidrvsh @crimson-mage-02 @babywantskith @pandorainmymind @dazecrea @elliotsbeigeguitar @jyoungmom @itakehotshowers if you would like to be added to my taglist, please let me know!

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holdmytesseract · 11 months

Text

Capturing the Moment

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki & Ella feat. Y/N

Summary: Loki and Ella are posing together for a painting.

Warnings: none? fluff!

Word Count: 1,1k

a/n: I couldn't help myself. 😅🥰 This lil' story is based on this post/picture. ☺️ I asked @cookie-doughandwaffles and they gave me the permission. ☺️

Baby Fever Crew: Tagging y'all in the comments! 😊💚

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"And you are sure this is going to work out, babe?" You asked your husband, while gently bouncing baby Ella on your arm. "I mean... We hardly made it work now. Only because we all tried to entertain her." Loki smiled, nodding confidently. "Oh, I am absolutely sure, my love. I am more than capable of keeping our daughter entertained during the process." You shrugged your shoulders, "If you say so..." and handed the little girl over to her dad - which she was visibly happy about; acknowledging her delight with a happy squeal, bright smile and kicking feet. Loki chuckled and pressed a lingering kiss on Ella's chubby cheek. "You want to know why, my queen?" "Why?" "Because our princess is - like you so often point out, a daddy's girl." He winked, and you nodded in agreement. "Hmm, yeah, that is a valid point..."

You, Loki and Ella were currently on a small holiday on Asgard, due to the fact that it was again time for new paintings of the royal family. Especially since both the princes had become fathers. The last time there were royal family paintings made, was after the brothers had been getting married - which was already a little while ago, and therefore were Ella and Eisa missing on the recent paintings and that needed to be changed. So, the royal painter was appointed and a trip to Asgard planned.

Meanwhile were all the 'necessary' paintings done, but Loki wished to have one just with him and Ella - to which the painter happily agreed. Only you had a few doubts, since it took all members of the family to entertain Ella and Eisa, in order to prevent them from moving around so much. Now Loki wanted to face this task alone - and he was very confident about it, so who were you to stop him?

"Alright, Lokes, try it. If you need help with her, just call for me." Loki chuckled softly, "I will keep it in my mind." and leaned down to kiss you. Then he redirected his attention to Ella. "Now let us go, princess, huh?" The little girl cooed, was at the moment fixated on the golden lapels of his uniform; her little hands gripping on it. You nodded, smiling, "Have fun - and show me how the painting turned out." and adjusted the beautiful flower crown on your daughter's head. "Of course, my love." Your husband kissed you a second time, before he turned on his heels, in order to leave your shared chambers.

You watched them leave, admiring how freaking good he looked in the very noble outfit the royal tailor had custom-built for this day. It was all about showing colours, who belonged to whom; but also representing the crown and the appearance as one big, happy family. Therefore, Loki, you and Ella were dressed in green - of course. The 'uniform', which the tailor had sewn for Loki fit him like a glove, was utterly perfect and made him look even more irresistible and handsome.

And Ella? Ella looked so sweet in her green dress, flower crown and flower garland, that you shortly feared you'd get diabetes. To match their look, you wore a beautiful, princess dress. You had giggled like madly, seeing yourself in the mirror and looking like you had just stepped out of a Disney princess movie. Yes, you loved those paintings days...

Loki and Ella posed for the painter once again; who had already started his good work. At first, it was no problem for the little girl to be just held by her dad, but with time, she got fussy and quite antsy. The god had of course a lot of tricks up his sleeve. Speaking to her from time to time, for example, or letting her play with his long raven curls - which got a bit painful for him at some point. Tickling her or gently bouncing her helped as well, just like showing her small magic tricks. Letting daisies grow from his palm or butterflies and tiny fireworks to fly. Ella was fascinated, of course, but at one point she even lost the interest in her father's seidr; causing Loki to play the Joker card: Telling her a story...

"Once upon a time, there lived a sweet, little princess on a realm far away, called Asgard. Her hair was black like the wings of a raven. Her cheeks as rosy as the skin of an apple, and her eyes so blue like the deepest depths of the ocean." Loki started, smiling down at his daughter, who was looking at him with big eyes. She loved his voice, without a doubt. The painter just smiled at the pair; heart melting.

"The little princess was just a baby, yes, barely a few months old, but she was already the shining star of the royal family. She was so, so loved. By the people, her grandparents, uncles, aunts - yes, by everybody!" Loki underlined his words by tickling Ella's tummy, causing a little giggle-like sound to bubble from her mouth. She was, of course too small to understand what her daddy was telling her, but all she needed was just his voice anyways.

Loki couldn't help but to chuckle as well, before he continued his story. "But she was most loved by her parents. They loved her more than life itself. Can you imagine that, sweet girl?" Ella just looked at him. Fascinated, staring, utterly focused - and with a bit of drool running down the corner of her mouth. "Yes, it is true! They loved her more than life itself. She was everything they ever wanted and dreamed of. Well, truth be told, the king at first not. He was not very fond of children; his heart bitter and cold. But then a little angel awakened his heart, made him see - and suddenly a child was what he desired. His beautiful queen gifted him a little princess not much later and his glorious purpose was to be the best father possible. If his efforts will come to fruition, only time can tell..."

Once Loki finished his story, his eyes travelled down to Ella - and with a smile, he noticed that the little girl had fallen asleep. Her little cheek was squashed against his chest; hand holding onto his finger. "Well..." The god mumbled. "Seems like my plan was a bit too successful..." The painter shook his head, smiling softly. "It's not a problem, your highness. I am finished anyways. If you wish, you can have a look at the painting." Loki nodded, "Of course. I'd like to see it." and adjusted the baby girl in his arms, so that she was able to sleep in a more comfortable position. Loki's oceanic blue eyes met the canvas, where he and Ella were painted on. "Is it to your liking, my prince?" Smiling brightly, he studied the art; nodding. "It is perfect."

#the baby fever au #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki #loki laufeyson x reader

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hopelesswritergall · 1 year

Text

I went full Picsart on this!

Requested by no one other than my imagination and inspired by @valeskafics and @sapphire-writes . Just their entire blogs, go read it!

Thank you @annikin-im-panicin for helping me out with some of them!

Warnings: Alcohol, throwing up. Let me know if I missed any.

Taglist: None, Lmk if you want to be added!

Yes you are a silly drunk and yes I used silly nicknames.

Is it implied that you are sorta fwb with almost everyone? Yes yes it is.

Reblogs,Comments and follows are greatly appreaciated. Let me know what you thought about it!

Modern!Aegon

If this bitch ain’t the one who got you drunk then he sure is the one who gets to have fun!

He got a call from you which was just gibberish, the only thing he could pick up was drunk, pick me up and party. His face: 🤨. TF is he supposed to do with party?! But luckily for him he made you install friend locator. Hah suck it Y/N it is useful and it was worth spending money on for the premium version! He will so rub it in your face later on.

So let’s say he does find you at 3 am absolutely hammered. Like you just went into a liquor store and bought it all. That’s how Aegon described it but we can’t really trust this little shit.

First of all he safely parked the car before walking towards you, and him being the little annoying cunt he is started filming it all. He got all your weird drunk confessions that should have stayed in the dark. “Aegon your uncle Daemon is like hot. So are your mom and aunt. Why is everyone so handsome!” You clutched onto him as if your life depended on it. “Whoa Princess, I know I’m super attractive and all that but no need to rip out my hair.”

The walk to his car should have been really short but…. no. You being supported by him decided to try to go pet a cat walking down the street. The cat did not like you and it did not end well. “Why does everyone hate me!?” Cue your crying and Aegon just desperately trying to stifle his laugh.

An extra stop at the pharmacy to get some band aids for you. You insisted on the Disney ones, cause they looked cool. At this point he was just straight up laughing at you.

His apartment was closer than yours and with your state you just needed a fucking shower and sleep. So he just took you to his apartment, and looking back he was really glad helaena lived down the street.

He carried you inside as your legs gave up and called Helaena to help you get ready. Normally the boy wouldn’t mind but even Aegon knows that a drunk person should be treated with care and not getting fucked by him in the shower. Which you totally didn’t do once or twice……..

When you were all cleaned up Helaena took her leave and you guys were alone again. “Alright Princess, you take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch,” he couldn’t finish his sentence before you already started to huff. “What’s the matter?” “Don’t want to sleep alone Aeggy.” you said. “Want me to stay with you?” Aegon asked. He didn’t mind, of course he didn’t! He just wanted you to feel comfortable. “Mhm.” Cue the quick nodding from you.

So he held you in his arms till you woke up. Then he just laughed at you but did give you painkillers. Cause he ain’t that much of a bitch.

Modern!Aemond

He is the friend who said: “Do you need me to pick you up after the party is over?” And dumbass you said: “No don’t worry I won’t get that drunk.” You did you did get that drunk

But Aemond half believing you was in his comfortable clothes at his home 30 minutes away from you watching Gilmore Girls. (He just looks like he would enjoy it).

When suddenly his phone rang. “Hello with Aemond.” As soon as he said that fucking crying could be heard from the other line. “Aem I’m lost.” He could barely make out the words you said. “Y/N, baby where are you?” Frantically searching his car keys while also talking to you led to multiple things ending up on the floor. Nothing shattered but still a bloody mess. What he does for you is insane.

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be crying…” Okay she had a fair point. “Alright miss im so smart. Where was the party? At who’s place?” “At Starks place. You know the one dude.” “Yes . I’m familiar with him. I’ll come and search for you. Just try to find a recognisable place. Like a 7/11 or something like that? Aight love? Can you do that for me?” Aemond knew he shouldn’t be driving and talking on the phone but you were a different story’s. He loved you and he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone, drunk and most possibly scared.

“I SEE A LIGHT! OMG ITS A CASINO.” Your shouting almost made him go deaf. Aemond blinked a few times before calmly replying. “Thanks love I think I know where you are.” Followed by a quick sigh of him getting the ear damage. “I’m going to bet my money.” You said and Aemond could just hear your smile through the phone. “No no missy, you are staying at the front of the building alright?” “Yes sir!”

Once he finally found you he noticed you were wearing one shoe. He made the connection that you had been killing you ankles walking on one heel this entire time. “You couldn’t take off the other heel?” He asked you with a small chuckle at your drunk antics. “Uhm no. I had to be fashionable.”

“Come on love. Your carriage awaits” he opened the door for you and smiles as you giggled at his choice of words.

The ride home was calm and nothing but silence. That was a lie!

You spent the entire ride telling him about everything you thought you saw. "Bettany kisses Jason,even though she was with James." You whispered, almost scared or being heard.

"OH no!" Aemond feigned surprise and put his hand dramatically to his head.

When you did finally come home he was sure to bath you very very gently. Not touching you in any way. (He is very polite and a gentleman)

You have had slept together on multiple occasions before. Maybe fucking maybe not. Who knows......

So it wasn't a problem for him to just put on his pyjama and get into bed next to you just holding you till you slept.

He was sure to remind you to listen to him more often

Modern!Daemon

Some background info. This can be interpreted as dilf daemon cause it is mentioned that Jace is his stepson.

So his stepson Jacaerys asked to throw a party in the mansion this Friday evening. Who was Daemon to refuse? Especially after he mentioned he would be inviting his childhood friend Y/N.

Oh if only Jace knew what is going on between his step-dad and best friend . Well maybe better if he didn't. ;)

So he quickly accepted the proposal but on one condition! Daemon was allowed to stay in the mansion at all times

He didn't really attend the party until he spotted you entering, an suddenly he was seemingly everywhere where you were.

It became kind of difficult to pretend nothing was going on between you and Jace's stepfather, but thank the gods for Alcohol!!

Jace would be drunk and had caught you guys making out, but instead of reacting right there and then he just left. Weird..

But somewhat later when you made yourself presentable again. he approached you. You were completely prepared for him to shout at you. Instead he goes like: "Bro, I think im hallucinating. I just saw you and Daemon's hallucination make out."

"Yeah, weird......"

You could've left like any sane person would do, but luckily for us you aren't. You went straight to the alcohol, doing shots and sipping combinations i would not recommend.

Daemon had been in the shadows after getting caught. Like Rhaenyra knows about it, hell Daemon knows about Harwin. But they were like, we love each other but also others.

Jace however wasn't aware yet.

So when he saw you drinking that awfully mixed abomination. Like he didn't stop you, but he also didn't cheer it on.

The party went on for a while and after about an hour (don't factcheck me on this one) the drink really hit you like a train.

My god, you were challenging everyone to literally everything. You had lost your coat and were just walking around with a tank top and shorts in the evening while its Winter!!

So Daemom came to the rescue. Grabbing your coat and pulling you away from the mass, he checked if you had any injuries.

"I'm taking you home, you cant go home yourself in this state."

"State? We're not in the United States?" "Oh dear."

He informed a half passed out Jace that he was taking you home and Daemon thinks he half got the message

While driving you home you were like Grogu in that one scene. Touch everything!!

"No love, you just locked the doors. No thats the radio. What do you mean with: Why do i not have a turbo?"

Daemon could feel grey hairs coming.

Once at your flat he used the emergency key and led you inside.

"Wow, who lives here?" Daemon thought you were kidding when you said that.

"Stay put! I do not want you moving off this couch, im going to grab you some stuff so do not make this any more difficult than it needs to be"

You saluted him. "YES SIR YES."

He knew where you kept your tea, heating pad and Ibuprofen.

He ended spending the night there to watch over you. Mama bear Daemon at its finest.

Modern!Jace

Daemon is a caring type after things go south, Jace is a Mom friend all the time.

When you told Jace about the party he gave the usual lecture. “Call me when you arrive and leave. Don’t forget to drink water and don’t die.”

Normally Jace would’ve joined you but he unfortunately had to do a project with Cregan.

So off you went, feeling amazing and fabulous in your new outfit.

It wasn’t that far away from your guy’s apartment, you have been sharing it since a year now.

So you went walking, that would’ve been a big problem later. Especially for Jace.

When you arrived everything was fine, nice music, good vibes and good drinks.

After getting a few light drinks you started to up the game. Doing a few shots. As you took a whiskey shot you could feel it burning.

Listen normally you would be responsible and stop drinking all these stuff at the same time, but yeah……. Not this time.

Mix after mix after different drinks.

As expected you ran to the toilet and there it came. The aftermath of your actions. Well not even the aftermath just consequences

Aegon being a slightly good friend called Jace. Did it come out coherent? NO. But it’s the thought that matters.💕

“Y/N? Oh wait Aegon. Why are you calling from Y/N’s phone. Did she die?!” Jace was already putting on his shoes while talking on the phone.

“Threwssdd upps”

How the fuck was Jace suppose to decipher that gibberish?

“Are you at the main dorm?” “Yes.”

“Alright I’m coming, just don’t let die”

Our homeboy Jace was speed walking until he heard the music

As he entered the house he could see you, with Aegon. He was trying his best to hold your hair out of your way. He did a decent job at it.

“Thanks Aegon, I’ll handle her further.”

“Alright pretty lady, let’s get your hair out of your face first.” Jace pulled out his emergency hair tie he always had on him and tied your hair in a ponytail.

He hoisted you up and let you lean on him while walking. This time he decided that the walk through the park would be better since it had more lights so you could see where you were going.

You immediately got interested by the violets that were growing there. “Oh my god! So pretty they also smell,” And you threw up again. “Nice.” You finished your sentence.

“Let’s just get you home safely and get you to get it all out of your system love.”

After what felt like the longest fucking walk in history you finally made it home. Jace dropped you off at the bathroom, so he could grab some supplies.

He grabbed water, water and more water. :D

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rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

how to self-sabotage: a bulletproof guide by zhong chenle

pairing: rival! zhong chenle x fem! reader genre: college au | humor, fluff wc: 10.8k warnings: swearing, a mention of alcohol and weed, this is written like a bad disney channel sitcom. i really channeled my inner business graduate with this fic i am so sorry a/n: this is a repost from yesterday bc tumblr was shitty and turned my text black!! playlist: self-sabotage - waterparks ; are you gonna be my girl - jet ; countdown (1, 2, 3) - nct dream ; teenager in love - neon trees ; maniac - conan gray ; drama - txt

one would say it's ungraceful to turn a charity fundraiser into a competition, but you and zhong chenle have no boundaries when it comes to beating each other in a fight. crashing each other's plans, making irresponsible decisions, all just for the sake of winning a competiton you two made yourself; zhong chenle finds a turn of events when the whole thing turns into a self-sabotage.

❥ hello! this is y/n and welcome to my new youtube video! to celebrate my 600 followers milestone, I prepared something special: let's look at all the boys I've ever had a crush on and interrogate them with a fun questionare! for today's part, we have the boy that tried to sabotage me, but ended up doing quite the opposite: zhong chenle himself! ❥

this fic is a part of my collab! find the rest of the works from the dream chronicles collab here! [tba]

Sitting at the table, fingers drumming against the light wood, you stare into the unknown and make your dear friend Jisung a little afraid of what’s about to come. Being your best friend is always a challenging fact, considering your over-the-top ideas and drive that makes your clueless friend a little taken aback, but with the premise of a challenge– the charity event that’s going to take place at your university, he already knows he’s up for something wild.

Maybe taking a step back from your master plan would be a better idea. Jisung would save his sanity and also, most likely, a lot of trouble; but that’s not who Park Jisung is. If anything, he’s a loyal friend. No one will take that title away from him. And that’s exactly why he’s sitting opposite of you right now, listening to the hum of the cafeteria, waiting for what you have to say.

“How many people are joining?” you ask, voice stone cold and focused. You don’t meet Jisung’s eye, focusing on the people flowing in and out of the cafeteria instead, the gears in your brain turning faster than on your midterms.

“I don’t know exactly, but I’d say around ten teams of people, each one consisting of at least two to three people, so… at least 30..?” Jisung hums, quickly calculating the numbers in his brain.

“30…. so that means we have at least a 20% chance of winning,” you mutter, chewing on your bottom lip and furrowing your brows, seemingly lost in thought.

“That- that’s not adding up, Y/N…” Jisung mumbles, running the numbers through his brain once again, trying to see if he’s made a mistake or if it was you. See, Jisung is not a straight A student– that’s what you’re here for, after all– but when it comes to Maths, he’s pretty confident. He’s not quite sure why it’s the only subject he’s good at, considering it might be the hardest of the course, but for some reason, logical things are easy for him to grasp.

“I ruled out the freshmen girls, they’re absolutely not winning this. Also, Renjun and Jeno are out as well, because they will underestimate everything and not try hard enough. That leaves us with Yangyang and Hyuck, since I know damn well that each and every girl that’s ever hooked up with either of them will hop on their dicks and buy anything they’re selling,” Jisung chuckles at the seriousness of your voice as you talk, finding the fact that you’re taking this whole thing as your main mission of the semester amusing, “and then… Him. He’s the professor’s favorite. And he’s super good at persuading people. And I know damn well he’s gonna try hard, so actually, the chances of winning are split into three teams, so we have an approximately 30% chance of winning the prize.”

Jisung blinks at you a few times, trying to clear his head. Right now, you look like you’ve been programmed– a robot with no emotions, only set on the task it’s been told to do. You’re not even blinking, he notes and immediately gets freaked out– because what if they switched his best friend for a robot while he was sleeping? What if this is some sick experiment? What if he’s in the Truman show? You may never know these days…

“Y/N, that’s not-”

“It’s 50/50, actually,” you cut him off, nodding.

“How can it be-”

“Simple. It’s me or him. And I will do anything in my power to win, Jisung, so be prepared for a fight,” you order, taking a sip of your water, still not meeting eyes with your companion. Jisung’s kind of glad for that, though– what if you turned into a siren and eye contact with you will turn him into stone? He really doesn’t need that, he hasn’t even had his first girlfriend yet. He’s too young to die!

“It’s for charity, for fuck’s sake, don’t be so competitive…” Jisung sighs, taking another bite of his sandwich that he forgot he was eating for a second as you started with your business meeting, shaking his head in disbelief at your antics. Is anyone even taking this whole thing so seriously?

The business department at your university is having a charity event the upcoming month. The goal is to sell things and raise the most money you can– it’s all for a good cause, of course. The only thing is that your university already realized that your generation, although it loves to help people in need, won’t do anything without having enough motivation. And so, the head of the business department– professor Lee– promised that the team that raises the most money for charity (or the winning team, as you like to call it), will get an iPad pro for their efforts.

Jisung would understand if you were doing it for the iPad. Hell, even he wants one. But the reality is completely different– you just really, really need to be the best at everything. It’s your main purpose in life and when you fail, you fall into weeks long depression, mourning every single aspect that made you fail at your task and getting angry at every person in your sight. That is even scarier than your weird transe that you’re in right now, Jisung admits, and so he usually does his best to help you with your efforts, because he doesn’t like to get screamed at for multiple weeks if you come second.

That, and he also really doesn’t like to see you sad.

“Yeah, so I’m having the right intentions, aren’t I, Jisung?” you finally meet eyes with Jisung, your devoted business partner, as you smile with that kind of curve to your lips that doesn’t really meet your eye.

A shiver runs down the poor boy’s spine at that, pupils widening with terror. Standing up from your position at the table, completely ignoring Jisung’s half-eaten sandwich left at the red tray on the table, you move towards the exit of the cafeteria, expecting him to follow along. “Let’s go, Jisung. We have work to do.”

“I’m so so surprised at everyone’s interest in the charity event! Thank you so much for coming here today to discuss the details,” Ms Lee chirps from her spot at the top of the table, swinging her arms around like a Disney princess when she sings to all the animals that gathered around her in the backyard of her palace.

Your eyes scan the figures gathered around the room. You’re sitting at one of the big, rounded tables settled in the middle of the conference room, two of the same, mahogany ones to your left and right side, all filled with business students. Some of the faces are familiar to you– like your classmate’s Renjun and Jeno’s, but some of the other ones are foreign to your eyes. You doubt you’ve ever seen those people in your whole, entire life, and you were in the student council last semester, so you were pretty much friends with everyone back then. Maybe it’s the freshmen, you think, as you look at your overly-excited professor and try to listen to what she has to say.

“Only if she knew that half of these people are here for the iPad,” Jisung murmurs into your ear, making you chuckle. He’s right– almost everyone’s here for that. But not you– you could never make your interest in charity so surface-level like everyone else does. You care about much more than getting an iPad, your interests are deeper than that. You don’t need the iPad– although you wouldn’t hesitate to take it if you win, you’re not stupid, after all– you need to win and beat your longest academic rival.

You need to win against Zhong Chenle himself, the top of the business class– he owns the title mainly because his parents own one and he’s had enough time to learn about all the wonders of the business world long before the rest of the people in your class– because you need the satisfaction of being the absolute best. See, you were used to that your whole life. In high school, you were the model student. The one that was set as an example. The best student, the most praised one, the most talented one, the gifted one, even.

You may already know why all of this was more damaging to you than it was good. Getting into university– into the sea of people that were told just that while growing up– was a feeling that made you fall down from the tallest heights of talent to the very middle of it all. The shift from being the best to being mediocre was perhaps the most painful experience of your whole life, but after you managed to get your shit together– and studied your ass off, because it won’t work any other way anymore, it seems– you set your mind on being the best one again, because in your whole childhood, you didn’t know any better. And if you were raised to be the picture perfect child, it’s hard to outgrow these habits.

So if Zhong Chenle was the top of the class in most of your courses, you had to be better than him eventually. The charity event is just another part of the whole process.

“I know this is all for a good thing, but I feel like we still need to set some rules for this whole thing. The main thing is to sell something– anything you want, really– and raise the most money you can for charity. I think everyone already got that, since you’re all sitting here, but I know that the vision of the iPad can blind some of you and get you to be a little too competitive, and while I encourage you to try hard, I also want all of you to play fair. So, here’s the thing,” your professor announces, making you shift a little in your chair and whisper to Jisung to get his notepad out so he can scribble the important info down, preventing you from forgetting it.

“Rule number one. No bad mouthing the others, no anti-campagne. I want all of you to be nice to each other and play it fair, got it?”

A few of you nod, humming in agreement, when a disappointed sigh comes from somewhere behind you, a low mumble reaching your ears and making you chuckle. “I had so much dirt on Donghyuck…”

“Rule number two. I don’t want you selling alcohol, cigarettes, or pretty much anything that’s against the university rules. God forbid if you bring drugs. I won’t hesitate to call the police on you if you do,” your professor continues, earning herself another set of bored hums and nods, cut off only by a pair of your classmates sitting right next to you at the big, rounded table.

A disappointed sigh leaves Yangyang’s mouth at this one, shaking his head in disapproval. You won’t say anything, because you don’t really want your classmate to get in trouble, but the last time you were on a party where Liu Yangyang was present, you couldn’t shake off the smell of weed for weeks, so you’re pretty sure his plan was to sneak in a little something to get more money for the charity. His friend and business partner in one– Lee Donghyuck from your Economy class– grins as his hand shoots up into the air, waiting to be called to ask a question.

“Yes, Donghyuck?”

“Are condoms allowed?” he asks, the innocent grin on his face making the freshmen girls in the back of the room chuckle and hide their face behind their hands.

“Why are you asking that?”

“No reason,” he shrugs, the innocent smile not leaving his face for a second as his childish friend only giggles at the encounter.

“Please don’t sell condoms at the charity event, Donghyuck,” professor Lee pleads, her eyes already full of misery as she realizes just what she’s gotten herself into when agreeing to lead the whole event.

Another disappointed sigh leaves his lips at that, shaking his head. “That’s our whole business plan gone, then…”

Taking exactly three seconds to calm herself down, your professor takes a deep breath in as she runs her hand through her long black hair and then clasps her palms together at her waist, regaining her composure. “Back to what I was saying, we have one more rule you have to follow. You can’t lie about your product. No false advertisement, no made-up stuff to make what you’re selling be more interesting than it already is. We want this to be a serious event, so please, take all of these rules to heart and try your hardest to follow them. Got it?”

Scanning the room, waiting for each and every single one of you to nod, the gathering falls silent. “If none of you have any questions, I consider this meeting to be over.”

The room is instantly filled with the shrieking of chairs on the linoleum ground, making your hair stand up as you arch like an angry cat, hating the sound. Waiting for everyone to get out of the room, you find a pair of men sitting still opposite of you, a cocky smirk plastered on the face of your moral enemy, his friend Jaemin sitting next to him with a well rehearsed poker face. They already look like they run a company, you realize, the thought making your blood boil just at the thought of Zhong Chenle looking more professional than you do– in your baggy sweatpants and a cropped top you grabbed from the top of the pile of half-dirty clothes in your room this morning.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” Chenle asks, grinning to himself as your eyebrows furrow and you reveal an annoyed face to him. It makes him happy to see you like this– it gives him more satisfaction than anything in his life, to be exact.

“The game’s on, Zhong.”

Walking towards your table in the cafeteria, a pair of young boys looking very engaged in their conversation lands in your rear point of vision. Eyes squinting, as if it was supposed to make you see better, you watch your best friend Jisung walk side by side with the accomplice of your moral enemy, Na Jaemin. One of them looks cool, dressed in all black, flashing a charming smile, and the other one is truly bubbly– jumping up and down, almost, as he giggles like a boy and adjusts the straps of his backpack. I won’t tell you which one’s which. Figure it out by yourself.

“We have a visitor today?” you ask as the two of them sit down at your usual table in the cafeteria, both of them smiling to themselves like two teenagers in love. The sight is an unusual one, to say the least, and you don’t know what it is about it that makes shivers down your spine. You just know that you kind of despise it.

“Yeah, Jaemin will be sitting with us today, if that’s okay,” Jisung smiles, looking at you with wide eyes full of excitement.

“Great, great,” you mumble, eyeing the boy with suspicion. Is this how he chose to execute your plan? You did tell him to be nice to Na Jaemin– you did even tell him to try to befriend him, if that was what he needed to do to get under his skin– but at the same time, you didn’t think that sitting together at lunch exactly two days after you told him to try to get some information from Jaemin was the right way to go around this.

See, you’d call it intuition. You know something’s wrong, you just don’t know what it is yet.

“So, what’s up, Jaemin?” you ask, poking the food on your table around with your fork, avoiding eye contact. You despise even sitting at the same table with one of Chenle’s friends– you feel like you’re suddenly in his circle, and that makes you gag a little into your mouth. While you need to be better at everything than this young businessman, you also need to stay away from everything that includes him– and yes, that means his friend circle as well. Who knows, Na Jaemin might even be a nice guy. You just don’t care enough to find out.

“Oh, a lot of exciting things are happening! Aren’t they, Jisung?” he smiles, kicking the clueless boy into his shin under the table in excitement, “the charity event, for example! We are preparing a lot of stuff with Chenle, and I think it’s gonna be a lot of fun. What about you two?”

Humming, you try to take the opportunity by its reached-out hands, smiling a little on the inside. “You’re doing a lot of things? What things exactly, may I ask?” you lock eyes with Jaemin, seeing his cunning smile.

“That’s a surprise, dear Y/N,” Jaemin mutters, the combination of his low voice and glimmering eyes making your stomach twist in anger and frustration. Of course he’s not that stupid– he won’t reveal what him and Chenle have planned for the event. He knows who you are. He knows how far you’re willing to go to completely destroy whatever the two of them have planned, just so you could win. And he won’t even dare to give you a single hint on his plans, because he’s intelligent and cunning.

“Is it…” you mutter under your breath, matching his competitive energy.

“Yeah,” he nods, turning to Jisung, “but maybe if you tell me first, I can share. Maybe we can brainstorm together, you know, that would be so much fun. Wouldn’t it, Jisung?” he asks your best friend, smiling sweetly at him.

You know damn well about the effect Na Jaemin has on people. He’s charming and sweet, magically alluring. He pulls everyone towards him, and he does it oh so easily. You’ve heard enough about how this man worked his magic spells on the girls in your grade, getting them on dates and then deciding he’s bored of them a few weeks later.

Now, you didn’t know that your best friend Park Jisung wasn’t immune to this effect. He was, in fact, very much not immune to it– he was just like every other girl in your class, just like all the poor freshmen girls that giggle at his stupid jokes in the cafeteria.

It was a saddening fact and an even more devastating sight to see your best friend fold under the eyes of the local charmer. You should’ve expected it, though– maybe this was the intuition you were supposed to listen to the very moment Na Jaemin showed up at your table in the cafeteria.

“I mean, I think that’s a good idea, maybe we can work together on it as well,” Jisung hums, eyes big never leaving the man as he nods to his manipulation tactics.

“See? Amazing! That’s exactly what I love to hear. So, what are you two planning?”

“Me and Y/N wanted to-”

“Jisung, shut up,” you coldly say, taking a hold of the situation and trying to save the day. Your poor best friend looks at you all lost, the furrow in his brows breaking your heart as you had to be rude to him for no reason at all– well, there is one, he just doesn’t know it yet.

“Why-”

“Why are you shutting your friend down like that? That’s not really nice of you, Y/N,” Jaemin says, locking eyes with you. The look in his orbs is knowing, your wavelength matching as he knows that you finally see right through his plan, that you know exactly what he’s trying to do– because you and Zhong Chenle are more alike than you both think, it seems. At least with your business tactics, after all.

“How about we work on our stuff alone, Na Jaemin? I don’t need Chenle’s help with anything,” you snap back, watching as the boy grins to himself and takes the red tray into his hands as he stands up from his place at your cafeteria table.

“Okay then,” he mutters, “have a nice day, you two.”

With his departure comes a loud whine from Park Jisung himself, earning himself a kick into the shin as you start your scolding session.

“What was that? Why were you so rude to him all of a sudden?”

“Jisung,” you coldly stare at him, making him silence, “I told you to befriend Na Jaemin to get out some information from him. I didn’t tell you to do the exact opposite and get exploited of all our plans instead!” you finish your little rant, breathing heavily as you notice the boy’s face clearing into understatement, smiling to himself a little in shame.

“Oh. I didn’t notice that…”

Park Jisung’s good at Math. Social interaction? Not so much… Maybe you should take things into your own hands and get some information yourself, instead of sending your most gullible friend on a mission that requires interaction with Na Jaemin…

“I still don’t understand what we are doing here. I thought you didn’t like parties!” Jisung mourns as you two step your feet inside of a big mansion (or at least that’s how the house looks in your eyes), the loud music of the event that’s going on inside making your eardrums bubble along with the beat.

“Jisung, you have so much to learn about this world…” you sigh, smiling at some of the girls you encounter on your way to the big kitchen, aiming straight for one of the red cups waiting for you on the kitchen island, all filled to the brim with various alcohol.

Turning around in your spot, two solo red cups in the palms of your hands, you offer one to your companion and grin at him. “Here, have this,” you smile, “I know you’re not a fan of vodka, but they don’t have anything else… Try not to die while I’m gone,” you note, earning yourself a confused look from the tall boy standing in front of you, listening to your commands.

“And where are you going? What’s going on-”

Sighing, you take the boy by his hand and drag him into the half-empty hall, the dim lightning making the whole encounter feel more secretive than it already was.

“Jisung, this is Zhong Chenle’s party,” you say, the sentence alone enough for the boy to instantly widen his eyes and part his lips agape in understatement, nodding at you. There’s a slight glint in his eyes that’s telling you that he doesn’t like where this is going, but you don’t really care about what he has to say right now. Your mind is set on one thing– winning, and that’s why you’re not afraid to do even the most desperate things of them all.

“Try to enjoy yourself,” you say, “but please don’t talk to Na Jaemin while we’re here, okay?”

“But Jaemin is nice-”

“Okay then, just don’t talk to him about the event, alright? They’ll use it against us if they know anything,” you mumble, downing the entirety of the red cup, scowling at the taste of your most hated alcohol. It’s like Zhong Chenle knew you were gonna appear– it’s like he wants to kill you. You wouldn’t even have to drink the poison that vodka is, but having some liquid courage in you could be useful in the crime you’re about to do right now.

“Try not to die,” Jisung resonates with the same words you’ve said to him just a few minutes prior, making you smile at him with a tense smile, hugging him goodbye before you go. Who knows, if Zhong Chenle catches you, you might not even make it out alive and see Jisung ever again. You might as well embrace your best friend for the last time.

Taking a deep breath in and out, you march up the stairs. The second floor of the house is not as crowded as the first one– the stairs are too steep to walk up if you’ve had too much to drink already, so it’s quite understandable. Looking around like a spy, you try hard to stay as natural as possible, not wanting to make anyone suspect you. Walking casually through the halls, you figure this is the best way to make everyone believe that you’re supposed to be here, that you were invited, and that you’re not just about to do a very, very bad thing.

Opening the first door to one of the rooms, you notice a king’s bed and flowery wallpaper. Closing it again, deciding that this isn’t the room you’re looking for, you continue your search on the second floor– opening the room to one of the bathrooms, and then what you presume is a guest room occupied with someone moaning loudly on the bed, making you shut the door behind you with disturbance.

Finally finding the right one– you assume so by the obnoxious Gucci hoodie sprawled on the chair right opposite of the door– you silently walk inside and close the door after you, making sure you’re alone and not watched by anyone. Trying the hardest to not make any sound, you walk through Zhong Chenle’s room and let your eyes roam across the furniture, looking for the thing you broke into his room for in the first place.

When you don’t find what you’re looking for anywhere at sight, you choose to walk over to his desk and open the first drawer. It’s full of textbooks and other notebooks, making you sigh and close it in disappointment, moving over to the one under it that surprises you with a stash of snacks and a single sock laying on the very top. Disgusted by the state of everything, you result in looking through the last drawer, wanting nothing more than to find the materials you saw Chenle write on the last meeting your charity event group had.

You needed to know what he had planned, so you could plan something bigger, better.

A stash of white paper appears in your eyes, the handwriting of none other than the owner of this house recognizable to you for various reasons (no, you never look at his exam papers over his shoulder just to make sure you did better than him. Never…), the title “charity” in a wobbly, light blue pen making your eyes light up. Bingo.

Excitement flowing through your veins, you scan over the paper and try to find any clues about the boy’s plan. The handwriting is a little hard to read, though, and so you squint your eyes, slowing down your breathing as you try to focus all of your attention to decoding the content in front of you–

–when the paper is swiftly pulled away from your grasp, making you gasp in shock and surprise. Turning your head around, you see the owner of the handwriting looking at you with a glare, making your body instinctively shoot to your feet and taking a step back.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, although he knows damn well what your previous actions were already.

“I’m- I was- I-” you stutter, your brain not allowing you to form coherent sentences.

He takes one step towards you, which leads in you taking another one back, repeating enough times for you to be pressed against the wall, shivers running down your spine either at the contact of the cold against your shoulders, or the look that Chenle gives you as he towers over you both physically and mentally, scoffing.

“Are you really that low? That desperate?” he spits, making your blood boil. You feel red in your face as the hint of his cologne makes its way up your nose, feeling both embarrassed and flustered by the whole encounter.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you peep, seeing the boy shake his head in disbelief, putting his hand up against the wall, close to where your head is resting.

“So what were you doing with this, then, huh?” he asks, showing you the paper in his other hand, waiting for you to answer, but not stepping away from you.

The truth is, you have no words in you to defend yourself. Suddenly, you’re left unarmed, empty and humiliated– but what’s worse, you’re left with no new information about the charity event, which means you’ve done all of this for absolutely nothing.

Seeing that you’re making no effort in answering the boy, he leans even closer to you, which makes your whole body tingle with what you presume is uncomfort, biting at your lower lip as your eyes lock with his mouth as he speaks to you. “Play fair, Y/N.”

Focusing on his plump, pink lips, you wonder if he uses a lip scrub or a lip balm– because there’s no way his lips are this luscious and beautiful, and so inviting…

“Get out of my room,” he orders, making your body unfreeze, feeling sweat drip down your back as you run out of the place, suddenly not having enough oxygen.

Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.

“Jisung, we gotta do something,” you mourn, head in your hands as you sit at the table in your room, papers scattered all around you and a half-made banner laying on the carpet in the middle of the floor.

“We are doing something right now, Y/N,” Jisung mumbles with the paintbrush in his hand, leaning over the white sheet of paper, trying his hardest to not go over the lines you’ve scribbled onto the banner just a few minutes prior, ordering him to paint in the bubble letters of your banner.

Grunting, you turn around in your office chair, looking at the boy. He doesn’t seem as stressed as you feel right now– it’s only a week until the charity event is supposed to take place and you really, really don’t want to be thinking about how badly it will go if you don’t think of something big at this exact moment. You feel defenseless. You have zero information about what Chenle’s about to do, so you can’t get prepared to do something better. Jisung didn’t manage to get any information out of Jaemin, and while you were able to find Chenle’s plans in his room, he took the paper out of your hands and cornered you against the wall before you even managed to read a single sentence.

You’re selling cupcakes. Jisung said his mum will help and chip in more baked goods, since she’s a good cook, but you doubt that cookies and pastry will help you win the first place. This sounds like something Renjun and Jeno would do– and you hate to put yourself onto their level, because they’re not the greatest when it comes to business. You doubt you’ll beat Hyuck and Yangyang’s condom stand either. There’s a lot of guys at your university that will rather go for a condom than a cupcake.

“No, Jisung, you don’t understand. Cupcakes won’t win. We won’t win. Zhong Chenle and his big head will win, and that will be absolutely fucking infuriating. I won’t let that happen,” you exclaim, huffing.

“But you don’t even know what they’re going to sell! What if it’s really bad? We still have a chance to win,” Jisung smiles at you, trying to encourage you.

Bless him. Even when seeing you so annoyed and having to deal with your snappy attitude every day, since the nerves always get the worst of you, he still tries to be your rock and help you through it all. His words might not help you win and they for sure do not help you calm down, but he’s trying– and that’s the important part.

“Chenle’s the son of the wealthiest business man in this country, Jisung. He has winning in his fucking genes,” you roll your eyes, “and that’s why I need to think of something right now or else I’ll physically combust.”

Jisung just sighs at you, not really knowing how else to help you. He’s trying his hardest– and you appreciate it, despite the fact that your actions suggest otherwise– and this is not even his battle. He’s okay with being mediocre– he’s just cursed with the burden of his friend always trying their hardest to be an overachiever. It’s not healthy, but he doesn’t feel like he can do anything about it, really.

“Maybe I can… Maybe I can tell everyone that if I win, I’ll do a giveaway with the iPad. I’m sure that will lure some people in,” you mumble, fixing your eyes onto the poster of Ross Lynch stuck on your bedroom door, lost in thought.

Jisung looks at you with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what’s going on inside of that brain of yours. The scheming look on your face doesn’t look the nicest, but he won’t tell you that in fear of being beaten up on the ground.

“That’s…”

“An amazing idea? I know, right?” you grin, looking at your friend with euphoria running through your veins.

“Y/N, I don’t think-”

“Bingo!” you yelp, eyes glimmering with joy and excitement, “We are about to give everyone who buys two cupcakes a lottery ticket and then, if we win, we randomly pick someone and give them the iPad! This is a brilliant idea!!”

No amount of effort can make you stop now. Jisung won’t even try anymore.

“I’m going to work on it right now. This is perfect!” you grin.

Jisung sighs.

He kind of wanted that iPad…

Sitting in the library, your laptop open as you try hard to focus on studying after the frantic preparations for the charity event, your eyes are stuck to the screen, starting to hurt a little from how hard you’re concentrating. The world around you is a mere blur, the background noises being no distraction to your brain as you type away on your keyboard from time to time, taking notes.

You like to study alone. You never really got the magic of studying in groups, since every time you tried it with Jisung, you two just grew distracted and didn’t know how to focus on your studies, too busy gossiping and talking about anything and everything. So to go here like this, in the evening, the university library has become your safe haven.

When suddenly, there are footsteps landing into your ear, the noise making you lose your focus for a moment when the owner of them decides to sit in the space next to you, making you swiftly look around and see who dared to pay you a visit when you’re studying.

Met with the gaze of none other than Zhong Chenle himself, you suddenly shrink in size and bashfully look away from the male. You’re not used to the feeling of embarrassment in your veins, not used to how you feel pathetic in his eyes and how you really want to disappear from the face of the earth every time you notice him registering your existence. It’s all your fault anyway, for snooping around in his room and being caught, but you’re not ready to admit that to yourself just yet, even though the reality is slowly catching up on you.

“Hi,” he greets, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. A conversation between you and Chenle is a rare sight– you just like to jab at each other and scream curses each other’s way– and starting one with a greeting is even more unusual for the two of you. It’s like both of you lose all sense of formality whenever you’re around each other– only the hatred remains.

“Hello,” you mutter, nervously scratching your forearm. Not daring to meet his eyes, you suddenly feel like he has something above you– the reality of catching you red handed, the very moment at his party. You won’t admit it out loud, but it’s the most defeating thing you’ve ever felt in your whole entire life, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to recover from it. Never in a thousand years did you expect to be met with the fact that Zhong Chenle is above you in something, but it came down to it, and you don’t know what to do with this information.

Your posture screams hesitance. Not knowing how to act around him, you refrain from acting at all– you don’t think you’re in the position to be rude to him anymore, for it would make you seem even more petty. His presence makes you nervous, the tingling sensation in your whole body and the heat you feel rising to your cheeks making you the most uncomfortable you’ve felt ever since you were cornered up against the wall of Chenle’s room last weekend.

“What’s up?” he asks, the casual tone of his voice confusing you even further. Taking one short look at him, you try to scan his features and somehow find out his true intentions. The boy has an inviting smile on his face– making your heartbeat quicken with a detail you choose not to pay any attention to– and his eyes are soft, opposed to the stone cold look he usually has reserved for you.

“Um… not much, ‘m just studying, I guess…” you mumble, too confused to pay attention to just how lost and puppy-like you must look right in this moment. Kicking your foot up and down under the table, a nervous fixation to ground yourself, you await his next steps.

The boy hums in acknowledgement. If he noticed your state, at least he didn’t mention it– a fact you were grateful for. Cracking your knuckles in the silence of the library, you forget how to keep up a conversation– or you just never learned how to keep up a conversation with Zhong Chenle, of all people. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, when he just takes out his stuff from his backpack and starts working on his homework.

Watching him for a while, you clear your throat and just decide to get it over with. You don’t like the quiet tension in the air, wanting it to disappear, so you just face it with a confident face (well, the most confident you can master up right now). “What are you doing here?”

Your rival looks up at you from his textbook with furrowed brows, shrugging. “Studying.”

“Yeah,” you blink, “but… why are you studying next to me?”

“Is this spot not free?” he asks, obviously teasing you with how the very well-known shiteating grin slowly starts to appear on his face.

“I- I mean it- it’s free, but-”

“Then I don’t see a reason why I shouldn’t study here,” he shrugs, momentarily pointing his look back to his textbook, driving you absolutely insane. Did he lose his mind? Was he having a fever?

“Chenle-”

“Look,” he says, looking up from the textbook again, turning to you with his full body– while also bumping into your knee with his for a second, making you jolt in a weird sense of electricity, “I know we’re not really on the best terms, but I think I’m done with being petty and acting like a child. Seeing that we’re kind of similar, in a way, I think we could even make good friends, so that’s what I’m trying to do here,” he says, smiling at you with that friendly expression he only reserves for his closest friends, making you feel light-headed. Are you having a fever?

“I- I don’t think I understand,” you mutter out, your expression lost. What was going on? Why did your rival suddenly want to be friends with you? After you searched through his room at one of his parties? You felt like you were having a weird dream.

“Let’s just… focus on our own projects for the charity event and forget about the rivalry. What do you say?” he asks, the glint in his eyes taking you off-guard.

What does one even say to that? You’ve spent your whole university years hating this boy, all for being too good at things you always wanted to be exceptional at. The rivalry made you so crazy you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore in the actions you were taking, and while it all felt worth it at the time, to see Chenle himself not even taking it that seriously made you feel even more embarrassed. Was this all just a one-sided battle?

Blinking a few times, you notice the boy out-stretching his hand for you to grip, the handshake a silent seal of the war between the two of you ending. “Friends?”

Gasping for air, you hesitantly reach for his hand, too lost in your own brain and thought spirals to even register what was going on around you. The contact of his skin on your burned, but you shook it nonetheless. “I- I wouldn’t say friends, exactly…”

“Acquaintances on good terms, then, got it,” he grins, seeing your empty eyes and the mess in your brain at the very moment. Suddenly, you feel a hand ruffle your hair, making you jump up in shock. “I’m sure you’ll do great, Y/N,” he grins, making you turn back to your homework and– although to no use– try to focus on the assignment again.

Feeling heat rising to your cheeks and your hands shake with nerves, the rest of the afternoon comes by like a blur.

Mixing the batter in one of the big bowls Jisung’s mum provided you with in their spacious kitchen, you are too lost in thought to even sing along to your favorite baking playlist your best friend put on to make the atmosphere lighter, despite the tension of the upcoming charity event rising. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy, when he cautiously approaches the matter.

“What’s gotten you so weird?” he asks, opening the oven and taking out the cupcake tray that’s been sitting in there, prepared for your baking session, since yesterday evening.

“I’m not weird,” you mumble, but don’t even meet his eyes. That’s an instant hint.

“Y/N, you’re not even singing along to One Direction right now, of course something’s up,” he says to prove his point, seeing you sigh and look up to the ceiling for a moment, seemingly debating on finally talking about what’s bugging you the most these days.

“Chenle approached me the other day… to make amends? I guess?” you mumble, shrugging.

Your best friend takes the information in, analyzing what you just uttered out of your lips. Are you sure you weren't dreaming? He wants to ask you if you’re sure it wasn’t all an image of your imagination, but he choses against it as he steps closer to you, scanning your face for any signs of mania.

“He did that after catching you looking through his stuff?” he clarifies, seeing you nod.

“That’s strange.”

“Isn’t it?” you ask, still not believing what you saw at the library the other day.

Jisung hums, furrowing his eyebrows to get his brain cells to work better, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Well, maybe he was sincere, however strange it might sound… He realized the little war you two have is childish and wanted both of you to have fun,” he shrugs, mirroring the exact words Chenle said at the library. Is this really so easy? Is this the final conclusion? The end of everything? You couldn’t just believe that.

“I don’t know…” you hum, moving to drape the cupcake batter into the tray, ready to bake it for tomorrow's event. Jisung helps you with the cleaning-up process, not wanting the burnt batter stuck on the tray to make the whole house smell like forest fire, wiping the excess away with tissues. After you’re done, he plops the tray into the oven and sets a timer for 15 minutes, resting his tall figure against the kitchen counter.

“Maybe you can… quit with the iPad giveaway thing? I mean, now that you don’t have to win, you can forget about that part. I think it’s kind of against the rules as well, since it’s a hint of false advertising? You’re supposed to win by selling the goods, and not by bribing them with an iPad, so I don’t think professor Lee will like that,” he mutters hesitantly, seeing your mouth open agape, shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not. Just because Zhong Chenle hit his head or something, I won’t back away from this fight,” you sternly say.

“Y/N, I promise you it’s not a good idea. You’re just going to get in trouble-”

“I’m not! It’s totally legal, and if I really win, I’m ready to give the iPad away, if that’s what I’m gonna have to do, Jisung.”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips at this, shaking his head. Yeah, maybe he is petty– maybe he just wants the iPad for himself, but at the same time, what he said was right. This wasn’t a fair game and he doesn’t think it will get approved by your business professor, no matter how hard you try to back it up.

“Life would be so much easier if you constantly didn’t try to impress Zhong Chenle,” Jisung mutters, making blood boil in you, anger felt at the tips of your fingertips.

“Take that back. I am not trying to impress him,” you coldly say, snapping.

“Yeah, sure,” Jisung rolls his eyes, “every single time, it’s all I have to be better than Chenle, I have to win against Chenle, I have to beat him in this and this and that… to me, it just seems like you want him to be impressed with your abilities, because you like him.”

Gasping, you catch the edge of the kitchen counter to steady yourself. “I do not like him. I absolutely despise him, that is,” you grit your teeth, trying to convince your best friend…. and maybe yourself as well.

Jisung just hums, mocking you. The look on your face is enough of a confirmation to him, he doesn’t have to fight you anymore. Besides, the looks you give the boy are surely not you trying to get his business strategy. Not in the gym class, when your rival is a little sweaty and overly-enthusiastic about basketball, at least.

“I still think you should stop with the iPad thing, though,” he says, crouching down to the oven to check up on the cupcakes.

Angrily stomping, you reach towards your backpack on the ground, taking out your papers for the charity event so you can quickly calculate how many batches of the batter you’re going to have to make to fill your goal. Looking through the stack of papers, seeing worksheets from English class and old exam papers that you should’ve thrown out long ago, you disagree with your partner. “Absolutely not, I think-” you stop in your tracks, looking through the papers, still not finding the ones you’re looking for.

Leaning back towards your bag, you stumble through it, still not finding your charity event plans and documents. Stress rising inside of you, knowing too well that you always have the papers with you and there’s no way you left it at home, the reality dawns on you, making you scream in despair. Of course Zhong Chenle’s sudden amends were a little weird.

“That motherfucker stole my charity event plans while I was too busy freaking out over his charming smile!” you yelp out.

Jisung snickers at the state of you. He called it.

When you’re 6 years old, you go to school for the first time. You manage to make every single teacher in your elementary school gasp in amazement as you tell them that you already know how to read and that you don’t need help with signing your textbooks– you know how to write your name as well. As you grow, you only get more intellectual; being put into special level classes, being told you were the best pupil out of the whole school, being constantly praised and made to believe that you are, simply put, much better than everyone else your age.

When you’re 19 years old, you get to university. The gifted child in you starts slowly dying out with the pressure of assignments and the realization that maybe, your whole life, you’ve been lied to and you’re not as extraordinary as everyone told you you were. At 19, you meet Zhong Chenle– the model student, the social butterfly, the teacher’s pet– and suddenly, he’s your enemy. You promise yourself to always be better than him. That itself was your only goal.

When you’re almost 20, standing in the enormous gym of your university, looking over at Zhong Chenle’s stand with fast food and the giveaway tickets for a brand new iPad being given with every purchase above 5 dollars, the flood of people gladly giving money to the man dressed in a neat black suit, looking like the businessman he, at heart, truly is, you finally admit that you’re losing.

The cupcakes stay abandoned at the trays, no one paying attention to all the effort you and Jisung gave into the charity event. If you really think about it, it’s kind of unfair– you did play fair, despite your previous antics, and you did everything in your power to raise as much money as you could. Looking at the lonely pastries, you feel defeated.

“Want one?” you ask Jisung, pointing towards the ones covered with pink icing– the exact ones he wanted to eat yesterday evening instead of dinner, after several hours of baking– seeing the boy furrow his brows in confusion.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat them until the event ends,” he says, watching over your dull look.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it’s over for us anyways, so I don’t really care anymore,” you proclaim as you take a bite of the cupcake, not even paying attention to the icing smearing all over your face.

The boy next to you only pouts at your argument, not used to seeing you so discouraged. He can’t say you’re not right– hell, he does have eyes and common sense, he can see the row of people waiting for Zhong Chenle’s fries from McDonald’s and pizza from Papa John’s– but still, he expected more determination from your ambitious persona.

“Y/N,” he whines, “it’s okay. Maybe we can still win,” he lies through his teeth, trying to cheer you up.

“Jisung, look at Chenle’s stand.”

“I am looking.”

“Do you still think we can win?”

“No,” he says, “but I thought my white lies could make you feel better.”

“Well, they can’t.”

“Okay, just eat your cupcake, will you?” he mutters, sighing at the state of you. Some freshmen girls come by to buy a cute little cupcake, but the few dollars in your basket right now won’t make any difference to the money moves your moral enemy is making.

“I tried so hard, Jisung,” you mourn with a full mouth, letting your emotions run free, “I tried so hard, and I still got nothing. This is so embarrassing, you can’t even imagine. I was supposed to be the winner, I was supposed to have the masterplan,” you complain, seeing Jisung sympathetically, although a little absent-mindedly, nod at all your points and arguments.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you can’t win all the time. It’s not embarrassing,” he encourages you, slyly taking a cupcake off the tray and biting into it, still acting cautious in case you decide to change your mind and revoke your approval to eat your goods.

“It is! You can’t imagine how defeating this feels.”

“I can see it on your face, sweetheart. Maybe if you stop frowning…?” Jisung mumbles, making you glare at him momentarily, his insides loosening up a little from the image of taking your mind off the issue at hand for just a few seconds.

“We have the last few minutes until the charity event is over!” you hear the voice of professor Lee through a megaphone she borrowed from the drama club, making you grunt. “Everyone, the sale is over at 2pm! Count your money after and bring it to me.”

Sighing, you don’t even try to sell any last-minute cupcakes anymore, opting to gather the money you’ve raised today. Quickly counting it and finding a scrap of paper to scribble down the amount (which is a sad, poor 20 dollars, if any of you were interested), you put the money into a zip-lock back and walk over to your professor, handing it in.

“Why did you rush it? Maybe someone would want-”

“Jisung, just… leave it. I’m over this already,” you say, sitting back next to your best friend, seeing him pout– mirroring your saddened expression– suddenly making you feel bad for impacting the mood of your business partner so much. “But hey, we had fun, didn’t we?”

Jisung looks at you in disbelief, breaking out into a grin at your poor attempt at easing the mood. “I guess we did, yeah,” he notes, “I know I did, although my stomach kind of still hurts from eating all the left-over icing from yesterday.”

“I told you there were raw eggs in that, what if you get salmonella, for fuck’s sake?” you sigh, shaking your head at him.

“It’s not salmonella! I just don’t handle sugar well-”

Your conversation is ended soon with a noise of a gong, signaling that the charity fundraiser was now over and every single stand should stop selling their goods. Looking around, you see the gym slowly empty out, leaving behind only the business majors that participated in the event, all counting up their raised money.

“Dude, I think we got around 150,” you hear Yangyang gasp from the stand next to yours, making you sigh with the information that even the condom stand raised more money than your cupcakes that were baked with care and love (and maybe a little bit of spite for Zhong Chenle. You can’t see it on them, though, so you guess it’s fine).

The next events come by in a whim– everyone hands in the money they raised at the fundraiser, one by one, gossipping about how much they’ve earned and how good they’re doing. Throughout the whole process, your eyes are glued to one person in particular– the one you were competing with in the first place.

Zhong Chenle moves through the place like he owns it, like it’s his own prestigious branch of his successful business, dressed formally, now shrugging off the suit jacket, leaving him only in a stylish white button-down and black pants, leaving you gasping for air. Grinning to his companion, Na Jaemin– although dressed similarly, but not leaving the same impact– you can only imagine how much he’s shit talking you right now, laughing maniacally at the fact that he stole your plan and won with it, taking all the credit and being the best yet again. It makes your stomach turn and twist in angry knots, feeling stupid each time your eyes flash down to his toned forearms when he moves away the things from the little stand, cleaning it up; for if you would’ve paid less attention to the man with the name Zhong Chenle, you wouldn’t feel half as defeated as you do right now.

“Stop ogling him,” Jisung teases, making you grunt.

“I’m trying to kill him with my glare.”

“I think you confused it with heart-eyes, sweetie-”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’ll choke you with your favorite pink cupcakes,” you smile at him innocently, making the boy shut up instantly, fearing for his own life.

Professor Lee triumphally stands in the middle of the gym, looking around at everyone. The proud smile on her face tells you that the other stands most likely made more money than yours did, earning the charity a solid amount of money that your university doesn’t have to be ashamed of. The only thing is that you are ashamed– of yourself, though. You thought you’d do better than you did, but you guess you have to come to terms with the fact that you can’t always be the winner.

“Everyone,” the professor starts her speech, “I am really grateful for every single one of you standing here right now. I want to thank you all for your effort, and I also will be grading everyone with an A for this event, because I can see that all of you truly worked your hardest. Now, though, is the time to announce the team that earned the most money, and therefore, won the little competition I made to motivate you.”

Looking around at everyone, you suddenly feel like you’re watching Eurovision, waiting for the points to be added up until 2am, slowly losing your motivation to keep watching further. Professor Lee smiles before she turns to the stand expected to win, making everyone’s suspicions correct.

“The team that made the most money, ladies and gentlemen, is Zhong Chenle and Na Jaemin,” she proclaims, making the boys scream in joy, jumping up and down in their places as they rush into a hug. They look like their hard work has paid off after 20 years of effort, however, the only work they did was steal your plan and buy some fast food… pathetic, really. Seeing the wide grin on Chenle’s face, you find yourself rolling your eyes, especially when your make eye contact with him and quickly force yourself to look away. “However,” the professor continues, making the boy’s faces fall.

“I was met with the information that you two violated the rules,” she says, making Chenle furrow his brows in confusion.

“H-how-”

“You worked with false advertisement, which, as I already said, was against the rules of the whole event.”

“How was this false advertisement?” he asks, getting all defensive. Something inside of you lights up at the sight of him all frustrated, but you wouldn’t say it out loud, for you think Jisung would accuse you of being a sadist.

“What you were supposed to be selling was the food, although I don’t agree with it being store-bought either, but I’m willing to ignore that fact,” she explains, “but what you did instead was sell tickets to your iPad giveaway, which was not in the business plan you’ve given me a few days ago.”

“But professor Lee, it’s not like that-”

“Therefore, you will not get the iPad, and the price goes to the second place, which is Lee Yangyang and Lee Donghyuck. Congratulations, boys.”

The duo on your right fist bumps and screams at the top of their lungs, making everyone in the university gym scowl with the sharp pain in their ears. Now, this wasn’t exactly the outcome you were expecting… you can’t say you hate it, though. Turning to Jisung, ignoring the yells of despair uttered out of the mouth of Zhong Chenle, complaining that condoms weren’t technically allowed as the product for sale, you hug your best friend with stars in your eyes, tugging him closer. He was right with his previous arguments, after all. Not that you'd admit it to him, since you're still super petty, but you're glad you didn't proceed with your innitial plan nonetheless.

“Woah, there,” Jisung gasps as he hugs you back, “we didn’t win, Y/N, though…”

“I know,” you hum into his chest, satisfied.

“So…”

“I’m just happy Zhong Chenle isn’t the winner,” you grin, pulling away from the boy, ready to celebrate the win of the two dumbasses in your business class. You never thought you’d see the day when Chenle is beaten by a duo that rarely attends the class, but you’re more happy than ever to let them indulge in the joy right now.

Hearing someone clear their throat behind you, you turn around. Surprised to see Chenle there, your smile freezes at your face, making you look like you’ve just been paralysed, earning yourself a kick into your shin from Park Jisung sitting at the chair next to you before he excuses himself and leaves for a bathroom break.

“Hi,” you greet as you see Chenle sheepishly look at you, his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“You got me there, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief, “I didn’t take you for such a mastermind,” he adds, making you confused.

“What?”

“The plan in your bag… you had it there because you knew I’d take it, didn’t you? You were trying to make me lose all along,” Chenle adds, finally bringing clarity into your brain. He’s not right– you were just too stupid to realise the consequences of your future actions in that moment, but now you’re glad the universe worked in your favor and you were too gullible to trust your moral enemy in the moment. You may have been weak back then, but now, you’re the winner out of the two of you– and you can’t say it doesn’t make your ego rise to enormous heights.

“Y-yeah…” you hum, not realizing your expression gives it away almost immediately, bringing Chenle the last hint of confidence he needs before he takes his next step towards you. The knowledge that you didn’t plan to sabotage him, and that this was self-sabotage all along, makes the boy content– you may hate him, but not as much. The fact that you were so out of your mind to let him take your plans right under your nose must be a hint of something.

“So…” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “what I said back then in the library still stands, though,” he says, chuckling. “I know I kind of lied back then, but now I mean it. I don’t… I don’t really want us to fight anymore, and I actually think the two of us would make a great pair- I mean, friends, so…”

Blinking at him a few times, feeling heat rising to your cheeks, you feel like you’re having another fever dream. There’s no competition right now, no business strategies, no exams to be taken. So… the intentions behind his words must be truthful, right?

“Um, I…” you start, but end up gasping like fish on sand, at a loss for words. Flickering your eyes from his to your feet and back to his shy smile, you feel like your brain is overheating. Curse hormones, really… it can’t be anything other than that. There’s no other reason why your brain keeps contemplating if this is him asking you out, and no reason why you so desperately want that accusation to be true.

“We can hang out after this, if you want,” Chenle suggests, rocking a little in his place, “with- with Jaemin and Jisung as well, since they seemed to get along…” he adds, the hint of blush creeping onto his cheeks making you want to scream into your pillow with overwhelmingness.

“That would be great,” you say, seeing the boy nod at your words, relief visibly flashing behind his eyes.

“Okay, great,” he smiles, “I’ll just get my things and I’ll find you later?”

“Sounds good,” you nod, your brain turning into a foggy mess.

Watching him turn on his heels and walk towards Jaemin standing on the other side of the gym, grinning at his friend with a suggestive wiggle to his eyebrows, you zone out. Is this your reality? Did you shift into another universe where the two of you don’t want to kill each other? How did you even move on from those emotions?

“You okay?” Jisung suddenly emerges from behind you, feeling shocked at the sight of you completely unfocused and still in your movements.

“Mhmm,” you peep, taking deep breaths.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, turning to your friend. “Do you wanna hang out with Jaemin later?”

You meet Zhong Chenle at 19, hating everything about him with burning passion, despising the way he always made you feel challenged and on your toes. He shakes with your word, turning you into a competitive mess, always trying your best to be better than him at everything, just so you could see the defeated look on his face and get acknowledgement.

When you’re almost 20, you realize that a hint of what you always wanted was acknowledgement from Zhong Chenle.

It might not solve all your problems, but maybe turning less competitive is a start.

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