#and then i can make some good progress over the summer
Text
so. I DID have a loose plan to try and hit 120k words in the huge smir fic by June, but then yesterday I discovered that Mars is, to put it incredibly simply, a very bad person for reasons that I'm not going to detail here. That is to say, I don't want it in my fic anymore, especially not in the semi-major role it had. So now I have,, over 100,000 words of plot to rework around that fact. Um. wish me luck.
in totally unrelated news This is Lycel everyone say Hi Lycel she's going to be the fourth member of our core cast :) also Failboat's gonna be here now. he's not replacing anyone he's just here for fun. I'm reworking a hundred thousand words and having to readjust so so many character dynamics to add a new character in what's a second new character on top of that
#my posts#that big smir fic#that being SAID. I probably wont hit 120k words by june#but hopefully by june everything will be reworked#and then i can make some good progress over the summer#ALSO im renaming the pigeon to Iris#if anybody remembers the pigeon from previous snippets ive sent
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t Get Caught
Note - lil bit of cheeky dad Mase to round off our Monday. I hope you’re all good and I hope you enjoy this 🩷 smut has not been smutting for me in a while so let’s see 😂 feedback would be appreciated 😘
Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader
Word count - 3k
Warnings - smut
‘So it’s just a shed?’
‘No Mason, it’s not just a shed’ Declan huffed. Annoyed by Mason downplaying his new purchase that he was proudly showing the pair of you around. Not that you could see much as it was dark outside and for the most part his new summer house was just an empty shell bar some cupboards. ‘I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to wire the electrics so the lights work, then I’m getting a tv installed, a mini fridge, like you name and I’ll probably have it, it’s gonna be immense’
‘What does Lauren think of all this?’ You asked, shining your torch round so you could see more of the space but it really was a work in progress right now.
‘She’ll have her section too, don’t worry. And I’m getting her one of those outdoor sofa set things she’s always wanted to go by the hot tub outside, plus a new swing for Jude. They’ll love it’
You were about to ask another question when his phone began to ring, Lauren’s photo flashing up on the screen but the more she spoke the more displeased his face became until he was hanging up with a huff.
‘Ah for fucks sake, Madders has thrown up in the guest room, I need to go and kick his arse’ he sighed, his hand running over his face like he didn’t want to deal with it and you couldn’t say you didn’t blame him as you tried to hold in a laugh.
‘Sounds grim’ Mason chuckled, making his way over to you in the dark and holding you at your waist. ‘We’ll be back in soon, yeah? I just wanna have a look round a bit more’
‘Yeah yeah take your time, I’ll see you inside later’ Dec mumbled before leaving the pair of you alone. Watching him trudge back to the house with his shoulders slumped before you turned to Mason who you could just about make out in the dark.
‘Look round what, Mason? It’s a shed with a counter and a few cupboards’ you asked, turning in his grip and resting your hands on his chest as he pulled you closer and even in the dark you could see his pretty smile.
‘I don’t think Dec would be too happy if he heard you say that’ He laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. ‘What do you think anyway? Would you like a summer house?’
‘Maybe’ you shrugged. Trying to imagine something similar in your own garden. ‘Would be fun to have movie nights with Ollie in something like this, like we could get blankets and those big bean bags things. Maybe some nice fairy lights so we can get all cozy’
‘You could also use it as somewhere when you need some time away from the boys’ he winked, pulling away from you as he took a better look around and it clicked in your brain that what he meant by it.
‘Oh I see, you just want it for you’ you laughed and he knew he’d been caught out as you heard him try to contain his giggles. ‘Come on, what would you have in here then?’
‘Well I’d get a tv definitely, and I like the idea of a mini fridge…’ Mason started but you didn’t listen to the rest of it. The thought of the three of you all snuggled under a blanket in something similar in your own home made your heart thump and the need to check Ollie was okay washed over you.
Ollie was at home with Lewis, the latter staying for a few days as he had a few appointments with Mason he needed to plan and it was always easier to do it when they were together rather than over the phone. Thankfully he was more than happy to look after Ollie for the evening so you and Mason could go to the joint birthday party that Dec was throwing at his house for the pair of them.
Lewis hadn’t texted and he was under strict instructions not to unless there was an emergency so the pair of you could have some time out, but you missed your little boy and you needed to check on him. Your finger hovering over the call button but before you could press it you felt Masons hands at your waist again.
‘Are you even listening to me?’ He laughed, shaking you slightly until you looked at him and you could tell from the look in his eye he knew what you were doing.
‘Sorry Mase’ you sighed, holding your phone to your chest as he pulled you closer. ‘I just wanted to check in and make sure Ollie is alright’
‘He’s probably asleep baby, Lewis knows what he’s doing’
‘I know, I just wanted to be sure’
‘Hand it over’ he smirked, laying his palm out flat for you to put your phone into but you just shook your head and held it closer to your chest.
‘No Mase it’s fine, I’ll keep it away’
‘Why don’t you turn it off?’
‘Yeah Mase, real sensible’ you laughed, rolling your eyes as you put it back in your bag as Mason placed a kiss on your forehead.
‘Come on, Ollie is fine. I know it’s weird being without him but why don’t we take our minds off it a bit?’ He shrugged, not picking up on the cheeky tone to his voice at the end but you were curious about what he was going to suggest.
‘How?’
‘You wanna play a game?’ He asked, backing you up against the cupboards just behind you and you let him do it until you couldn't move anymore. Your bum hitting the top of the counter and you looked up at him curiously.
‘Depends, what did you have in mind?’
‘A little one I like to call, don’t get caught’ he whispered whilst hiking you up to sit on the counter by your thighs. ‘Never played it before but I thought it might be fun’ he smiled as he squeezed your thighs. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all day’
‘Mason’ you warned but he just smiled and kissed you heavily. Knowing he pretty much always got his way in situations like this and your resolve would crumble soon enough.
‘Come on baby, I know you want to’ he teased before kissing you again and when Mason kissed you like this you knew exactly what it meant. ‘I haven't had you in days and I won’t be able to again for a while’
He was right. He’d been away for a few days for a game and tomorrow he’d be off again for a training camp so tonight was really the only time you had to be physical. You just thought it would come later on when the pair of you were in bed not outside in the middle of Decs new purchase.
‘You know I’ll make it worth your while, baby’ he whispered. Lips ghosting your jaw before he playfully bit your earlobe and when his kisses started to travel down your neck you felt your body turn to jelly.
‘Won’t everyone be able to see?’ You asked, looking towards the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that were just to the right of you and you gulped nervously.
‘We can barely see each other, gorgeous. Don't worry I won’t let anyone see you, you’re for my eyes only yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whispered. Letting him kiss you again as you gave into his desires as in this moment you wanted him just as much.
‘I’m gonna make you feel so good you’ll forget your own name, pretty girl’ he whispered against your lips and even though his sentiment made you smile you knew he meant it. When Mason had had a bit to drink his mouth tended to run away with him and when you were being intimate it was no different. This version of Mason liked to talk you through it. To pull the strings and tease you into oblivion until you were a mess beneath him and you knew if he got his way tonight you’d be in for a wild ride
Before you knew it, you felt his fingers trail over your thighs and under your dress. Gripping your bum so he could pull you forward and rest you just on the edge of the counter but thankfully it wasn’t very wide and you were able to lean back and rest against the wall as his fingers danced over the front of your underwear.
‘You can’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t want this, you’re dripping for me’ he growled, fingers circling just where you needed them over your underwear and it only took a beat for you to start grinding your hips to meet his movements. ‘See, there we go. You know exactly what to do don’t you?’
You let him tease you a little while longer as he kissed you roughly but soon enough he was finally pushing your dress up higher and gripping the top of your underwear so he could pull them from your legs. The cold air hitting you and making you hiss before you could just about make out him stuffing the black lace into his back pocket.
‘Hands on my shoulders baby, need you to hold on tight yeah?’ He told you, hearing him pull down the zip on his trousers and shuffle his boxers about just enough to free himself and you clenched around nothing in anticipation of what you were about to do.
As soon as you felt his tip pushing against your entrance his lips were on yours. Swallowing your moans as he eased himself into you slowly but you were surprised about how easy it was since there was no foreplay involved and you were just getting straight down to business.
He still took his time though. Moving slowly in and out of you so you could both adjust and the small whimpers and moans falling from both of your lips just egged the other on until your brain was foggy with pleasure.
‘Remember when we first met, you told me you were a good girl’ he spoke against your lips before kissing along your jaw softly. ‘I’m not so sure i believe you anymore’
‘I’m a good girl for you’
‘And only me, right?’ he sighed, resting his forehead on yours as he kept his pace steady. ‘You’re mine, and you’re always gonna be mine’
‘Masey’
‘What is it baby? What does my good girl want?’
‘Harder please’ you whimpered, wanting him to lose control a little bit as you knew he was holding back until you were comfortable but you were ready to have all of him now.
‘Yeah? You think you can take it’ he asked, hands grabbing your wrists so he could tug them away from his shoulders and before you knew it he had your wrists crossed above your head. Holding them together with one hand so they were against the wall whilst his other hand gripped your waist to hold you still. His hips picking up pace just like you wanted him to and you let a loud moan slip past your lips.
‘So fucking innocent but just look at you. Begging for me like this’ he growled, his words making your tummy flip but you couldn’t answer as he moved his hand to rest on your lower stomach before applying a little pressure. You knew he could feel himself inside of you from the profanities that were falling from his lips but the new sensation had rendered you speechless as your eyes rolled back in your head.
‘You love that I’m fucking you in here don’t you, I bet you want the whole world to see’ he grunted. His thumb now moving back to circle over you as he still applied pressure to your tummy and you almost screamed from how good you felt. ‘Want everyone to know how good I give it to you and how good you can take it’
‘Mase, please’ you cried, so overwhelmed with everything he was giving you that they were the only two words you could remember right now but he just carried on snapping his hips back and forth deliciously.
‘Thats it, say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this good’
You felt Masons hand move away from you, giving you a bit of needed relief as you felt like you were about to explode but you saw him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans until he pulled out his phone.
‘Mase? W-what are you doing?’
‘Shhhh it’s okay. I just need it, need to remember what you feel like when I’m away next week’ he stuttered. ‘My eyes only, remember? You trust me?’
‘With everything’ you whispered back. Recording each other was something you’d never done before but you couldn’t deny the idea made your tummy flutter and you did trust him. He was your husband and the father of your child after all but even though this new idea scared you slightly it also thrilled you.
‘Good girl’ he chuckled, smiling as he placed a reassuring kiss to your lips, promising again it was just for him before he pointed the camera down to where the pair of you met started to record himself slipping in and out of you. The whole act turning you on more than you thought it would and the moans that left your lips were sinful.
‘Look at you, can’t get enough can you?’ he whispered, looking up to see his face slightly illuminated from the light on his phone and the first thing you noticed was how wild his eyes were. ‘You feel so unreal’
‘Masey, I’m so close’
‘I know gorgeous’ he whispered. Shutting his phone off so you were both in darkness again and his free hand returned to your waist to hold you still. ‘I need you to hold it for me though yeah? Just for a minute, okay?’
‘Mase’
‘I know I know, I’ll make it worth your while though, I promise’ he told you. Finally lowering your arms back onto his shoulders so he could get a better grip on you and your fingers got lost in his hair as he rested his forehead on yours again. ‘Just wait for me, yeah?’
‘Okay’ you whimpered. Trying your best to hold off but it was difficult and the way Mason was moaning into your mouth didn’t make it any easier.
‘That’s my girl’ he grunted, eventually hiding his face in your neck so he could focus on reaching his high but as the seconds went on you felt like you were about to explode as his lips connected with your sweet spot.
‘Go on baby, let go for me’ he told you, keeping his pace steady until your high rippled through you. Letting him continue to talk in your ear until he was softly biting your shoulder as he came undone himself.
It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your breathing mixed together as you caught your breath with your heads hidden away from each other but soon enough he was looking back up at you with a shy smile on his face.
‘That video, I can delete it if you want me too. I just got caught up in the moment I’m not sure what came over me’ he chuckled. Tucking some stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your forehead softly.
‘No it’s okay, you can keep it. As long as it gets hidden somewhere’
‘Really? You don’t mind?’
‘Well I prefer the thought of you watching me rather than random people on a weird website’ you laughed, cupping his jaw so you could place a gentle kiss on his lips before he quickly grabbed his phone again.
‘It’s gone straight into my hidden, yeah?’ He showed you, using the Face ID to show you its new home and you blushed as you caught sight of the multiple pictures of you in your underwear he also kept in that folder. ‘Under lock and key along with all my other naughty photos of you’
‘You’re terrible’ you laughed, your breath catching as he finally slipped out of you but he was quick to kiss you again before he readjusted himself and did his trousers back up.
‘And you are the love of my life. Thank you for playing along’
‘Let’s just hope Dec doesn’t find out what we’ve done’ you laughed, letting him help you down onto the floor as he adjusted your dress but your legs were still shaky for your high and you had to grip Mason’s arm for support. ‘Can I have my underwear back now?’
‘I’ll think about it’ he winked and with one final kiss you made your exit and rejoined the rest of the party.
#Mason mount#mason mount one shot#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fluff#mason mount drabble#mason mount blurb#mason mount smut#mason mount angst#mason mount imagines#mason mount imagine#mason mount fic#mason mount fan fiction#mason mount fan fic#mason mount story#mason mount x reader#mason mount x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer x y/n#footballer imagines#footballer imagine#footballer fan fiction
368 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oooh the grid kids series is pure joy! I think it's really cool idea, especially because the drivers spend so much time around one another. Can i request one where maybe back in the day, rbr!seb and y/n were the grid kids of like mark and michael and jenson and back to present times, seb's grid kids are weirded out to see jenson and mark treat seb and y/n as their grid kids please. If that makes sense
Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: once upon a time, the grid parents were grid kids themselves
Series Masterlist
When We Were Young
“Oi lovebirds! Stop canoodling in the garage, will ya?” Mark Webber chuckles, teasingly nudging Sebastian as you blush, having been caught stealing a quick kiss with your boyfriend in the middle of the chaotic paddock.
Michael, ever the protective figure, chimes in, “Leave them alone, Mark. It’s sweet. Remember when we were young and in love?” He winks at Sebastian, who grins, clearly relishing in having backup.
Jenson, leaning against a tire stack, chuckles, “Speak for yourself. Some of us still have it.” He sends you a playful wink and you laugh.
Sebastian wraps an arm around you, “Honestly, with the three of you as mentors, I’m surprised I’ve learned anything about racing.”
You smirk, “Maybe they're preparing you for the important race — the race of life?”
Mark snorts, “Deep, Y/N. Very deep.”
Michael smiles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, “You know, Y/N, you remind me a lot of my wife back in the day. Always grounding us racers, making sure our heads don’t get too big.”
Jenson nods in agreement, “True that. You have a way of making sure Seb here doesn’t drift into the clouds.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Oh come on! You guys are just trying to get on Y/N’s good side because she’s the only one who brings proper coffee to the track.”
You giggle, “Guilty as charged. Can’t have my grid parents falling asleep at the wheel now, can I?”
Rain, Rain, Go Away
Sebastian and you stand with Jenson and Mark, sheltering under an awning as rain pours down, delaying the race. Michael ambles over, shaking off his umbrella.
Sebastian grins, “Typical Spa weather, huh?”
Jenson chuckles, “Isn’t it just? Every year I hope for sun by some miracle and every year...” He gestures at the rain dramatically.
You sigh, “I packed for a summer trip. Look at this!” You motion to your very damp sundress.
Mark smirks, “Rookie mistake. Always pack a wetsuit for Spa.”
Michael nods sagely, “And flippers.”
Oh Simple Thing
The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air as Jenson mans the BBQ at his home. You and Sebastian arrive, bringing along a homemade salad and plenty of sides.
“Ah, the dynamic duo!” Mark greets, pulling you into a friendly hug.
Michael points to the salad, “Trust Y/N to ensure we get our greens. Good on you!”
You wink, “Can’t have you all living on steaks and grilled chicken alone.”
As the evening progresses, stories from their early racing days are exchanged, often leading to fits of laughter. At one point, Mark shares an embarrassing story about Sebastian’s rookie mistake during a test session.
Sebastian groans, burying his face in his hands, “Do we have to bring that up again?”
You pat his back sympathetically, “It’s alright, Seb. Everyone has their moments.”
Jenson, taking a sip of his drink, adds, “That’s true. Just remember, no matter how many times they tease you, you’ve got Y/N in your corner. And that’s worth more than anything.”
Prank or Be Pranked
“Seb! Did you move my helmet?” Jenson calls out, rummaging through his locker as the five of you prepare to go karting, his face a picture of confusion.
Sebastian, feigning innocence, replies, “Why would I do that?”
You, smirking, lean in and whisper to Mark, “Five bucks says he put it on the highest shelf.”
Mark grins, “You’re on.”
As Jenson continues his search, he eventually finds his helmet perched high up, just out of reach. Michael, catching on to the prank, laughs, “Looks like our young prodigy here has learned a few tricks.”
Sebastian shrugs, “Consider it ... training. For reflexes and stuff.”
Jenson, using the handle of a dusty broom to retrieve his helmet, retorts, “Wait till you find out what I’ve done with your boots.”
Sebastian’s eyes widen in horror, “You didn’t!”
“This is going to be a long season.” You lean back against the brick wall as the overgrown children in front of you continue to bicker, fighting a smile.
Thanks for the Memories
Jenson, lounging comfortably in the hospitality area, raises an eyebrow as he watches you try to subtly wipe some oil off Sebastian's face. “You sure you’ve got him all cleaned up for the camera?”
You laugh, looking at a sheepish Sebastian who had been poking around his car earlier. “It’s like looking after a kid sometimes. He’s always getting into something.”
Michael chuckles from across the room, “Ah, young love. Sebastian, she’s got your number. But honestly, Y/N, good on you. We older ones have been trying to teach him some discipline.”
Mark smirks. “To be fair, Michael, I recall a certain someone ending up in a pool with his clothes on in Monaco just last year.”
Michael grins mischievously, “That was different. And anyway, Seb, Y/N, don’t get any ideas.”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Trust me, if he ends up in the water, I won’t be the one pushing him.”
Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “But you’d jump in to save me, right?”
You pretend to ponder, “Hmm, depends on how cold the water is.”
Jenson laughs, “Sebastian, you’ve found your match. But seriously, both of you, cherish these moments. The grid, the races, it’s all fleeting. But the relationships, the memories, they last.”
Michael nods in agreement, “Jenson’s right. One day you’ll be the veterans, guiding the young ones. Remember these days, learn from them.”
Mark clinks his water bottle to yours, “To memories and the journey ahead.”
Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones
Michael leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, when I started in F1 we didn’t have all this fancy tech and simulations. We relied on instinct.”
Jenson, faking shock, retorts, “Wait, you mean they didn’t have cars back then?”
Sebastian chuckles, glancing at you, “I bet he drove a dinosaur to the track.”
You laugh, “A very fast dinosaur, mind you.”
Mark, trying to keep a straight face, adds, “Michael, be honest. Was your racing suit made of ... loincloth?"
Michael plays along, “Yes and our helmets were carved out of stone.”
You chime in, “I heard they used saber-toothed tigers as pit crews.”
Jenson nods, “Oh, absolutely. And the pit stops? Ten minutes. Had to give the tigers a break.”
Michael rolls his eyes, laughing, “Alright, alright, mock the legend if you must. But remember, young ones, we paved the way.”
Mark grins, “And we’re grateful, old man. But don’t forget, it’s their turn now.”
Sebastian, ever competitive, challenges, “Race you to the track?”
Michael raises an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”
You laugh, “Careful, Seb. He might just bring out his dinosaur.”
Passing the Torch
Michael stands, his presence commanding the room’s attention even without a word spoken. Holding a helmet delicately in his hands, he clears his throat. “In every racer’s life, there comes a time when the tracks call to you a little less, the roar becomes a distant echo, and you realize there’s a world waiting for you outside the paddock.”
He glances over at Sebastian, then to you, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “But before I step into that world, I wanted to leave behind something, a token of gratitude and hope.”
Sebastian’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity evident. “Michael, you’ve already given so much to all of us …”
Michael interrupts with a soft chuckle, “Seb, always impatient! Let me finish.”
He then looks at you, his gaze warm and fatherly, “Y/N, you may not race on the track, but you’ve raced in all our hearts, guiding, supporting, laughing, and cheering louder than everyone else.”
“Sebastian, Y/N,” Michael continues, his voice imbued with emotion, “This helmet, from my last race, isn’t just a piece of equipment. It’s a symbol. A legacy.”
Gently placing the helmet on the table, he pushes it towards the two of you. “It’s about the weight of responsibility, the dreams it carries, the hopes it’s seen, and the love it’s felt.”
The room is silent, the magnitude of the gesture palpable.
Sebastian, clearly moved, speaks up, voice choked with emotion, “Michael, this ... this is ... I’m not sure if we can ever fill the space you leave behind.”
Michael smiles, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, then moving to hug you tightly. “That’s the thing about spaces. They evolve. They change. You two won’t fill my space. You’ll create your own.”
Pulling away, he raises his glass, “To new beginnings, to timeless legacies, and to family. Always to family.”
Back to the Future
As Max saunters into the room, he stops short, eyebrows raised in surprise. Jenson is teasing Sebastian, ruffling his hair like he’s a teenager, while Mark playfully nudges Y/N’s arm, offering her a drink.
Max blinks a few times, trying to process the scene. “Is ... is Jenson giving Seb a noogie?”
George peers over from his conversation with Lando, both their eyes widening. “It looks like it ... and Y/N’s being drawn into some sort of mock arm wrestling with Mark. What alternate reality did we walk into?”
Charles, mouth agape, chuckles, “It’s like watching a nature documentary: Here we observe the older generation asserting their playful dominance over the younger one.”
Lando giggles, nudging George. “Mate, should we jump in? Even the odds a bit?”
Before George can answer, Mick, who’s been observing silently, leans in. “Guys, it’s kind of sweet. You remember the stories they've told about the old days? This is just ... history repeating itself.”
Max, still trying to wrap his head around the scene, shakes his head with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when Seb gets his hair messed up and doesn’t immediately fix it.”
Lance calls out, “Maybe we should start taking notes. This might be us in a few years.”
Grid Kids and Grand-Grid Kids
Charles saunters over to Mark and Jenson, holding up a race boot he’d just had signed by both of them. “Thanks for this, mates. It will be a special addition to my collection.”
Mark pats Charles on the back, “Anything for our grand-grid kid.”
Charles stops mid-stride, turning to look at Mark with a puzzled expression. “Your what now?”
Jenson chuckles, handing Lando a signed cap. “Didn’t Seb and Y/N mention? Since they’re your grid parents and they’re our grid kids ... well, that makes you our grand-grid kids.”
Lando bursts into laughter, while George, overhearing the exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so we’re like ... the second generation of grid offspring? This is getting complicated.”
Mick leans in with a smirk, “Hold on. So if I’m following this logic properly, that would mean double the birthday gifts, right?”
Jenson grins, “Well, perhaps but it also means double the expectations on the track.”
Lance playfully rolls his eyes, “Great, double the pressure. Just what we needed.”
Max joins the banter, “Are there grand-grid kid initiation rites we should know about? Because I’ve seen old photos of Seb and Y/N with you guys and let’s just say that fashion has come a long way.”
Mark feigns shock, “You’re dissing our style from back in the day? Careful, young one.”
Charles, cocking an eyebrow, shoots back at Max, “Especially considering the only thing in your closet is Red Bull merch.”
The group bursts into laughter, Max chuckling and nodding in acknowledgment. “Touche, Leclerc. Touche.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#sebastian vettel x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lance stroll x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#mick schumacher x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#sebastian vettel imagine#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc imagine#lance stroll imagine#george russell imagine#lando norris imagine#mick schumacher imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Good enough // CL16 & MV1
Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen
Summary: Max is not always the confident man he looks like.
Warnings: Self-esteem issues, some dark thoughts, talks about eating disorders.
Author’s Note: Men can also suffer from low self-esteem and body insecurities. Rate: +16 (inappropriate language)
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
She always slept in the middle and Max was okay with that, because even though he loved to cuddle Charles, he was a living heater, like Max. Y/N was like an ice cube and it was great to have her in the middle, cooling them down. Watching her peaceful face in the morning was also a plus. That was the sight he found that morning, her laying face up, her lips slightly parted, Charles half on top of her, his nose buried on the crook of her neck and his left arm over her protectively, his fingers brushing Max's middle. The Monegasque was snoring softly, the noise muffled by Y/N's collarbones. As always, Charles was shirtless, it was impossible for him to rest well with clothes and it wasn't like the Dutchman or their girl would complain about it. On the contrary, she started progressively to sleep with less clothes on. Max wasn't sure when it happened but she went from loving to trying different PJ's and seeing which one was more comfortable to sleeping in just a tank top and a pair of cotton panties. Again, there were no complaints about that. Max could never complain about seeing them with little to no clothing, they were literally the most beautiful people he had ever met.
He knew that she was perfect since the first time he laid eyes on her, while they were teenagers. He felt his breath itch just looking at her face, and when they became closer and she started hugging him more, he became addicted to the touch of her skin, soft and plush under his fingers. He could remember the first time he saw her in underwear like a core memory, they were still friends and he had never felt so guilty for anything as he felt for his thoughts that night. She spent the night at his house, they both had a race the next day and her parents couldn't take her, so he offered her to stay at his house and go with him the next day. His father was less than pleased with his idea, but agreed anyway. She changed in front of him like it was the most normal thing in the world, he was her best friend and she felt safe with him, the tug of guilt he felt in his heart for looking at her like she was a whole meal still haunted him. But he thought she was breath-taking, every inch of her body was just too perfect to be real. He was seventeen at the time, so his mind went to places that he wasn't proud of, but even if he wasn't sexualizing her all the time now that they were older, he still could say that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Then there was Charles, who Max knew for a fact was the most wanted man in motorsport. People just worshiped his body like it was a whole temple and Max couldn't agree more with those people. He would definitely join a cult about Charles' body. From his cute, messy hair to his toned legs, Charles was a living Greek God and Max thanked Zeus every day for making his boyfriend figuratively allergic to wearing shirts. Summer Charles was his favorite, all hot and bothered, walking around sporting his smallest shorts and needing someone to apply sunscreen on his back three times a day. Max would always volunteer for that. But Spring Charles was also great, always wearing half buttoned shirts, chest showing teasingly. Max's second favorite was Autumn Charles, who liked to work out in compression shirts, leaving him and Y/N looking at his body the whole time they should be training. Winter Charles was less of a show off, but that doesn't mean he didn't serve... There were few sights as beautiful as the Monegasque in winter attire, with his nose reddened and smile on full display. Max could spend hours just looking at Charles sitting in front of the fire, warming up while chatting with Y/N about all of his favorite things.
He watched them both sleep for a few minutes, following the ups and downs of their chests, the covers up to Charles' hips, giving away just a peek of the navy blue panties Y/N wore that time to sleep. He felt lucky, but he also felt terrible about himself. As he got up from the bed, he sighed softly, doing the best he could to suppress the negative thoughts that tried to settle down on his mind. Walking down the hallway and towards the kitchen, he couldn't stop his body and it positioned itself in front of the mirror at the entrance of the living room. He looked at his reflection with a shy gaze, the dark shirt made him look slimmer, or at least he told himself that. The deep breath he took was shaky and when his hands moved to his hips, the hem of it tensed, highlighting a little roll on his lower belly. He looked away disgusted, his hands falling back down by his sides and walked quickly to the kitchen to start breakfast. He focused on his Stroopwafels, he wanted them to be ready before Charles woke up, or else he would complain about eating in the morning and skip breakfast. His boyfriend was a disaster when it came to food, he didn't like many dishes, and the Stroopwafels were one of the few things Charles liked to eat in the morning.
Max thought about skipping breakfast and instead going for a run, burning that roll he saw in the mirror, but he knew that it was not healthy behavior. He didn't like the way he looked, he did feel ugly, but he was aware of the limits between feeling bad about himself and doing risky things to achieve the body he wanted. Still, once in a while, his low self-esteem would entertain the idea of skipping a meal or extending a training session. He didn't resent his partners for being physically perfect, but he did feel like he wasn't good enough for their perfection. He would sometimes look at them, so incredibly good-looking together, and think that he didn't look as good as he should, like he was out of place with their beauty. The fact that they loved him was important to him, he understood that they loved him for his personality and not for his looks, and he wasn't a superficial man, constantly thinking about his or other people's looks, still, he sometimes wondered what they saw in him. When he was making out with them and they felt so into it, he would ask himself once in a while how it was possible that someone like him could turn them on. It was some kind of miracle that a woman who could have any man in the world, who already had Charles fucking Leclerc would want to have sex with him, or al least that's how he felt like.
"Morning, Amor". (Love). He heard Y/N voice as her arms wrapped around him, her cheek pressed against his back. He felt her kissing his shoulder and then playfully bite him. He laughed.
"Morning, Schat. How did you sleep?". He took the last Stroopwafel out of the pan and then turned around to face her.
"Bien, but woke up around 3 am wanting to peet and went back to sleep right away because you both were squeezing me so bad that I couldn't even go to the bathroom". (Good). She pouted and then giggled, making him smirk, loved her giggles. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, her hands moving to his hair to pull at it a little, he moaned but gathered his composure back quickly.
"No funny business, no time for that". He said against her lips and she huffed. It was a Wednesday and they were all traveling to the USA for the triple-header.
"It won't take too long, I promise". She dragged her hands down his torso, he loved every second of that, until she reached the hem of his shirt and her fingers touched the skin of his lower belly. He grew self conscious fast and then pushed her hands away. She looked at him worried, not for him not wanting to have sex but for him to refuse her touch as if it was burning him. He had those reactions once in a while and it always made her wonder what was wrong, but he never seemed open to talk about it.
"I just don't want us to be late, Schat". He quickly lied and she let it slide. He kissed her again, just to let her know that they were good. They heard Charles' footsteps and the conversation died there.
In Austin, they were gratefully surprised with the fact that they were staying all in the same hotel, which meant that they could share a room all five nights. Charles and Y/N didn't even bother on settling down in their rooms, knowing that they weren't spending a second there, instead, they took their suitcases to Max's room and then plopped down on the bed. Max was still acting weird, he barely let them cuddle him on the plane, didn't ramble about anything and then just went straight to the shower, taking his sweet time there. Charles, even though he had been close to Max for less time, also picked up on his strange behavior. They knew that Max was allowed to have bad days and be moody, but these episodes were different from being moody. He looked sad, like the spark he usually had suddenly lacked power. The two talked about it, wondering what could have happened and how to bring up the subject to Max without scaring him off. The last thing they wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable or pressured to open up about something he wasn't ready. Once he walked out of the bathroom, completely dressed to bed, they made themselves comfortable and drifted off.
"You look stunning today, Y/N". Max heard one of the reporters say while they were all on the media pan. Max suppressed an eye-roll, she always looked great and someone always had to point it out. He was a little jealous, but the fact that he had felt particularly bad about himself the last few days didn't help.
"Thank you". She said with a tight grin, she wasn't a fan of physical compliments, she would rather people calling her a good driver instead. The reporter proceeded with his question about her good Qualifying that afternoon and she then gave him a complete answer with her feedback about the track and the car. He watched her talk, the way her hands moved as she explained something, her lips that did the best they could as she struggled with her pronunciation and how her nose scrunched when she talked about the least things she liked about the track.
"Max". He turned around to look at Charles, the Monegasque discreetly leading him to an empty room when the media pan was over. "Are you alright, babe?".
"Yeah, sure". He tried to play it cool, but the concerned look on Charles' eyes was making it really hard.
"Are you sure? Because you haven't looked fine for a few days now". Max knew what he meant, he knew that Charles was talking about his mood, but Max couldn't help but associate Charles' words to his body."I know I don't look fine, I'll do better". He walked out of the room, leaving Charles even more confused than before.
Austin went terribly for Charles and Y/N, both of them ending up disqualified after the race, the Ferrari driver losing a P6 and the Mercedes a podium. Max had won and still he didn't feel any better, so the mood back in the room wasn't the best. "Couples that get disqualified together, stay together" was the caption that their PR managers decided to use when they posted their joint post about the FIA's decision. Max looked at the picture over and over again, even sad they looked nice. Or maybe it was him that loved them so much that was unable to see a single defect in them. He didn't care, they were perfect in his eyes, and he wasn't good enough, no matter how much he could win. The next stop was Mexico and Max was already in a bad mood to also having to deal with Checo's fans. He got the chance to share his podium with Charles and Y/N there and that made everything a little bit better, but watching their pictures online, the three of them together was painful. And to top it, between Mexico and Brazil, Y/N trended on Twitter when a particularly good picture of her after the race "broke the internet". She was being called the most beautiful woman of motorsport, and it was all too much for Max.
Charles walked inside the room with his spare key, they were both at the same hotel in Brazil and Y/N staying just a block away, to find Max on the bed. His knees were all the way up to his chest and Charles could see that he was crying, thanks to the shaky movement of his back. With soft steps, he walked to the bed and sat down next to Max, placing his hand atop his shoulder and squeezing. The sob that the Dutchman let out broke Charles' heart in a million pieces. He quickly pulled out his phone and sent a short text to his girlfriend, requesting her presence, then he got into bed with Max, pulling him to his chest and letting him cry as much as he needed. Y/N arrived 20 minutes later, having to work her way through some PR duties before she could be free. Max was a lot more calm when she made it there, her two boyfriends resting on the bed, while Charles moved his hands up and down Max's back. The Ferrari driver looked up when he heard her walk in and they shared a look before she sat down at the other side of Max and ran her fingers through his blonde locks. She saw him let out a sigh and then a few more tears fell down his cheeks.
"Amor, what is it?". She spoke as gently as she could, not wanting to startle him. "Please, we want to help, Max".
"You can't. I'm the problem, not you". His voice was hoarse, the crying taking a toll on his throat.
"You're not a problem, Max. What are you saying?". Charles was almost offended at Max's comment, how could he call himself a problem when he was so darn amazing?
"Okay, we're not avoiding this anymore". She changed her tone from sweet to serious. "Both of you, sit up". They followed the order, Max resting his back against the headboard of the bed. "What's up with you?"
"Don't play dumb". Charles warned him after he saw Max was ready to straight up lie to them again. They waited patiently, and Max just looked around the room, feeling self-conscious. Their gazes were too intense and he couldn't take them.
"I've been feeling bad about myself". He whispered it, hoping that they wouldn't ask for him to repeat himself. They didn't.
"About your body?". Y/N placed a hand on his thigh as she asked the question, Max just nodded.
"But why? There's nothing wrong about you, Max". Charles made the comment so nonchalantly that Max almost laughed.
"Everything is wrong with my body!". He laughed bittersweetly as he said that, like he was amused by the fact that they didn't understand.
"Max, you're going to have to elaborate on that, because we can't see anything wrong with you". He could see that she was concerned, it wasn't just the tone of her voice, but also how hard she was pressing her hand against his tight.
"I'm ugly, so ugly. I don't even understand how you don't see it!". Charles was straight up horrified by the comment, Y/N kept a neutral face, she wanted to see where this was leading so she could fix it. "I'm fat and my face is not pretty or anything like that. Clothes don't fit me right and I look terrible in pictures".
"This stupid, you're saying stupid things". Charles couldn't believe what he was hearing and the string of French curses he let out after his comment just proved further that he was not agreeing with Max's perspective of himself. Y/N was more concerned about Max fat-shaming himself, as if gaining weight was something bad or even him getting fatter was true, considering he was a pretty fit guy. They had a long journey of self-love ahead.
"Charlie, you're not helping". She tried to calm him down, but Charles was angry.
"He's saying stupid stuff! How can he say that?!". Max stayed quiet. "Anyone would kill to be you, you're fucking perfect!".
"What?". That took Max by surprise. He had called them perfect for so much time that he felt the term foreign when it was directed towards himself.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Max". He turned to look at Y/N, she moved her hand from his leg to his face, running her thumb over his cheekbone. "We think you're amazing, perfect".
"But why? You're both so good-looking!". He couldn't believe it. "How could you think that of me looking like you guys do?"
"This is stupid". Y/N rolled her eyes.
"Looks like "stupid" is the word of the day". That made Max laugh softly, she smiled and shifted her position on the bed to sit on his lap. "I love your smile, I love it even more when it reaches your eyes because they look even better".
"You make it sound like he's doing it himself, it's easy for his eyes to look great when he has those eyes''. Charles was being actually useful with his angry comebacks.
"I also said that I love his smile".
"He has the whitest, most perfect teeth on Earth, you could turn off the lights and still find him if he smiles". Max smiled at that, looking at the frowning Charles that huffed and kept cursing in French. Y/N grabbed Max's face and made him look at her.
"We love you, Max. Not just the fact that you're an incredible person or a generational talent driving cars. I love looking at you and I love having sex with you". He blushed, she giggled. "I'm not sure where this idea of you being ugly came from, but I can assure you that you're extremely handsome and hot to me".
"Of course he is! Mon Dieu, thinking he's ugly... Simply stupid". (My God).
"He agrees". Max properly laughed this time. She kissed him, pressing herself against him to make him feel her heartbeat. They broke apart after a moment, both needing to breathe. "I know that getting those thoughts out of your head is not easy, but please, if you ever, ever think about yourself like that again, tell us. I promise you, we will prove you wrong".
"Really?".
"Yes, really. We love you, even when you talk stupid".
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Hope you guys like it!! Happy New Year everyone, and have a great 2024.
#charles leclerc imagine#lestappen imagine#lestappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#max vestappen one shot
855 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reasons for me to get skinny/rewards/plans+anti binge.
To motivate/trigger myself :)
REASONS:
To look good in all clothes
Abs
Skinny legs
Smaller boobs
Pretty face
For my (gymbro) boyfriend
To be carried easily
Bikini's in summer
Confidence
To look better than the other girls
To be happy
To be more comfortable running/working out in public
To be seen as "small" and "petite"
To be as skinny as my sister
GOALS/REWARDS:
55kg: Hair and skincare stuff
52kg: bikini
50kg: septum peircing
48kg: new clothes
PLAN:
Workout:
Do some form of intense enough cardio everyday e.g. running, cycling, stairmaster.
Keep steps up AS WELL as cardio, minimum 10k, but aim for 15k
Bodyweight workout every-push ups, planks, pull up progressions
Weight training in the gym 2-3 times weekly
NEVER eat school lunch
Avoid eating out
MEAL PREP!! (Chickpea salads, chicken breast, soup, porridge, cut up carrots, etc.)
DRINK A SHIT TON OF WATER (when I wake up, before eating, during eating, after)
Big cup of tea every after school and then after dinner.
Utilise coffee, gum, mints
No fizzy drinks
Diet:
NEVER finish dinner
NEVER eat anything after dinner
NO SWEETS OR JUNK FOOD UNLESS PLANNED IN ADVANCE (only junk acceptable is a) pastries from bakery or b) chocolate on occasion.
AVOID bread, pasta, noodles etc.
Eat breakfast and eat throughout the day TINY small portions.
OMAD on occasion
DO NOT BINGE AT ALL EVER
FOODS TO PRIORITIZE:
yogurt- especially the protein kind. Good if craving something sweet.
fruit- avoid bananas (binge food)
Vegetables- carrots as snacks, incorporate other veg throughout day e.g. salads
eggs- specifically boiled
lean meats
MEAL IDEAS:
Breakfast:
Protein yogurt (may add sprinkle of cereal and fruit if extra hungry)
Boiled eggs
Carrots and hummus
Fruit
Little bowl of cereal
Fruit smoothie
Porridge
Lunch:
Chickpea salad
Boiled eggs
Carrots and hummus
Protein yogurt
Fruit
Smoothie
Boiled veg and chicken
Snacks:
Carrots
Yogurt
Fruit- apples, oranges, berries specifically
Ham slices
Chicken slices
Mini mini bowl of cereal
DO NOT BINGE:
Think about everything. Think about how unhappy you are with your life. Think about how long you've been doing the same old shut for? Don't you want it to be over? Don't you want to finally get what you want and be happy? Don't you want to finally be able to move on? Think about how long ago you could've gotten there if you hadn't binged all those times?
Think about where you could be so soon if you just stick to it, for a short while. Food is always there. Food is around you all the time in abundance. You ALWAYS have the choice to eat. So CHOOSE not to.
Don't make excuses. NEVER make excuses. There are no reasons that you binge other than the fact you want to. You are in control. You are always in control. Every time you binge, that is your choice. Your doing. Every time you reach for that bread, you could just as easily remove yourself from the situation. Walk away.
Hunger is only temporary. You will always get to eat again. Remember your reasons. Think about your future. Think about your rewards. Not binging will always be worth it.
You have the ability to be skinny and lose the weight so do it! I know you can!!
Hw: 68kg
Sw April 2024: 60kg
Cw may 2024: 57kg
#ed dairy#ed rant#tw 3d vent#an@rexi@#ed relapse#i wanna lose weight#light as a feather#pro for me not for thee#i wanna be tiny#⭐️ve
267 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cruel Summer [ZCL] (M)
Description: He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (This fic is Chenle's POV!)
A/N: this is inspired by 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift, please do listen to this song because it is SO AMAZING.
Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (very minimal angst, like u rlly have to squint)
Content Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF AND SMUT. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK OKAY. Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty/pushy Smut warnings: this has so much smut oh my god. anyway, use of pet names 'sunshine,' 'baby,' 'pretty,' and combinations of them, rough, unprotected sex, protected sex, choking, the smut rlly progressively gets softer but kinkier? a wee bit of dacrophyilia, one oral scene (m receiving), and i think that's it...i'm so sorry if I missed one this thing is so fucking long
Word Count: 20,050 (seriously wtf did I DO?!)
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark, Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, and two female OCs, Chaeyoung & Heewon)
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests
Day 1 | June 1st
Chenle, for his entire life, had always said summer was his favorite season. As time went on and he got older, that sentiment got less and less real to him. Now approaching his 23rd year of life, he’d been around long enough to know things younger Chenle never would’ve dreamed of.
Every single summer since high school graduation, Chenle has invited his friends to his family’s vacation house on the beach—including you, his best friend since middle school. You’d seen him through all his awkward phases, and the best part of his month-long summer excursion was seeing you despite how busy the two of you were throughout the year.
For thirty days, everything was normal. You were around, and he relished in your company.
For thirty days, he was able to forget everything except for you and a handful of other friends.
Not that he could ever not have you at the forefront of his mind. Despite the busy schedules you both endured, you somehow ended up crashing at his house often, or vice versa. He often occupied the other side of your bed and, for a long time, thought it was completely normal despite the very odd reactions some people had when he explained he wasn’t your boyfriend.
Nothing had ever happened. At least, not literally. He’d thought about making a move and kissing you, but he decided it wasn’t worth losing your friendship. Throughout your years together, he’d seen you get in relationships, get your heart broken, and break hearts. You’re comfortable being at your lowest with him, and he builds you back up piece by piece without complaint.
“Chenle,” you call from outside, jogging up to the front door. “Is everything in the car? Jaemin and Jeno are almost here.”
He raises his eyebrows as he glances around his house, wondering if he’s forgetting anything. And without meaning to, he scans over you as if he hasn’t been around you all day. Your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat from the overwhelming heat outside, and your shorts climb up your thighs with every passing second, but he swears he doesn’t notice.
“I think so. If we’re missing anything, we can just run into town,” he suggests, tagging his fingers on his sides to stop himself from reaching out to you.
Chenle had a little secret—one he hated keeping from you, but had to nonetheless—and it was simply that he was in love with you. It took him years to come to terms with it. After all this time, he accepted it. If he’s around you, the way he acts doesn’t have to change in the slightest. He’s always treated you as more than a best friend, as you’ve done to him, so there’s no reason for him to ruin that…right?
“You good?” You tilt your head at him. “We’re wasting time.”
“We have a whole month,” Chenle retorts.
“And you’re taking away from our first day.” Your eyes narrow, but before he responds, you turn your back on him and rush out the door, yelling at who he assumes is Jaemin finally arriving.
The four of you are driving together, while Mark, Hyuck, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were taking Mark’s car. They’d probably be a bit late, but Chenle didn’t mind.
His favorite thing was road trips—especially if you were involved. Even when Jaemin and Jeno slept in the backseat, you and Chenle had the radio up, the windows down, and you were singing at the top of your lungs. Your best look is when you’re this happy, yelling lyrics without a care in the world. He shouldn’t, but he steals glances at you whenever he can. You sing, looking at him and grabbing his arm and shaking him depending on what songs were on. Giggles pour out of your mouth when he gives you an incredulous look.
The song you replayed the most these days was Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, and he would never get tired of it. Every time the chorus came on, you swept him up in your performance, and he almost laughed at the way he related to the lyrics.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He wanted more, but he liked you like this. Hands flying into the air as you scream along to the music. Sooner or later, he ends up joining you. Whenever you’re involved, it’s not weird to find Chenle a single step behind you.
Chenle’s family had a large house on the beach. It was split down the middle, and one of his parents’ conditions was that the boys would stay on one side and the girls on the other. They didn’t have a way to prove any different, but everyone respected their rules.
Jaemin and Jeno typically played whatever game console was in the living room while Chenle got to spend a little bit of alone time with you before the rest of the hyper ones got in.
He stands across the kitchen, watching as you unload all of the snacks you brought onto the counter. After a long drive, the sun is setting on the horizon, and the pretty colors reflecting off your skin have him beyond distracted. It wouldn’t be weird for him to hug you. He’s been clingy with you since…well, since he first met you.
“You sure you don’t want any help?” he asks.
“It’s just little things.” You shrug, waving him off. “That drive was…exhausting.”
He laughs, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself.
“What?” You continue taking boxes out of the bags.
“The drive always knocks you out, but you do the same thing every time anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna sit with Jaem and Jeno. Come out when you’re done?”
You grin at him. “I’ll only be a few more minutes. Go ahead.”
He leaves you in the kitchen, the nightfall creeping into the house and making his eyes heavy. His bed calls to him from upstairs, but he wants to wait for you. And he doesn’t have a choice but to wait for Mark and the rest of the gang, because they’ll have to have a way inside.
When you join him, you’re equally as tired as him. You slump next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. With your warmth pressed against him, he smiles and wraps his arm around you. Jaemin and Jeno are battling away, sleep not touching them any time soon after the nap they had in the car.
“You okay?” he whispers, careful not to alert the other two.
Nodding, you curl into him further, sighing into his chest. He hugs you, and somehow, you end up curled into a ball on his lap, head buried in his neck. Your breath tickles his skin, but he doesn’t dare disturb you.
He cradles the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your scalp. When your breathing steadies, he relaxes. You’re asleep, and if he knows himself at all, he’ll be following you in no time. Any time you’re tired after a long day, you curl into him like this, and he’s come to relish in these moments.
His eyes flutter shut, his own exhaustion peeking through. Absent-mindedly, he presses his lips to the top of your head.
“Ew,” Jaemin groans, giving Chenle a disgusted look. “They make rooms for whatever’s going on there.”
Chenle glares at him once, and he purses his lips and turns his attention back to the game.
“Seriously, if you want to go to bed, we’ll wait for the others,” Jeno offers. “We are capable of opening a door.”
Chenle contemplates it for a moment. He knows he should be the one to greet everyone, but the gentle snores escaping you makes him want to cuddle you properly. It wouldn’t be the first time one of you “snuck in” to the other side of the house and stayed with one another. At the end of the day, he couldn’t get enough of you. Your skin is soft beneath his fingertips, and despite everyone knowing how desperately he wants you except for you, he likes to act like it’s a secret.
“Alright,” he mumbles, shifting under you to see if he’ll be able to find a way to hold onto you. “Make sure to lock it when they arrive.”
Jeno and Jaemin don’t say anything else when he lifts you up and walks you down the hall toward his bedroom. He lays you on his bed first, pulling the blankets back to settle you beneath them.
You’re so peaceful like this—face soft, the slightest smile on your lips. He finds himself dragging his thumb along your cheek just to be able to touch you. You’re perfect to him.
He climbs in next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you against his chest. You hum quietly, subconsciously turning to him and bury your head in his chest. He grins to himself at the feeling, at the idea of you being so accustomed to him that you’ll want him even in your sleep.
Kissing the top of your head, he lets out a sigh of content before resting back against his pillow.
Day 2 | June 2nd
The morning together was just like any other—you stayed cuddled up until eight came along and the others were whining down the hall about being hungry. Chenle wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone verbally, but the reason he likes these vacations so much is because of the privacy he gets with you.
Yeah, all of your friends are there, but they’re used to the level of clinginess Chenle has with you. His family, on the other hand? If they knew he woke up at 6:30 am and stayed with you wrapped up in his arms for an hour and a half…
“We should go help before they burn down the kitchen,” you murmur, sighing quietly.
“The longer I can stay in bed, the better.” He squeezes you tighter. “Five more minutes.”
You nod in agreement, shuffling closer. His hand rubs up and down your back, gently dragging his nails to help soothe you further. How you’re unaware of his feelings for you is beyond him—he’s always treated you this way. Like you’re the most important person in his life.
Because…news flash, you are.
Eventually, the two of you have to get up. Mark and Heewon are in the kitchen, and you immediately deduct that that’s a mistake. Chenle quickly shoos them from the kitchen, taking over the role of breakfast chef with your help.
While the two of you cook together, he never has to verbally ask you things. You’re in such harmony, it’s like you know every single move he’s going to make before he does.
“So,” Jaemin says, sitting down on one of the stools behind the island. “The girls said they want to go to the bar tonight. You guys down?”
“Tonight?” Your eyebrows pinch, and your lips turn downward. “It’s only day two.”
“Yeah, we’re trying to maximize our fun time,” Jeno interjects, taking a seat next to Jaemin. “We’ve only got thirty days before we return to the real world.”
“Sorry, you’ll have to count me out.” You scrunch up your nose. “But I’ll start doing things tomorrow. I just need to recharge a little more before I go out anywhere.”
Jaemin turns his attention to Chenle, either wanting him to convince you to go, or to see if Chenle will also be staying in.
“Sorry, Jaem.” Chenle shrugs. “I’m not leaving her here by herself.”
You appreciatively poke his side, something the other two boys don’t see, but it makes his heart flutter nonetheless.
“You two are only forgiven because of the breakfast you’re making. We expect hangover breakfasts tomorrow, too.” Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.
“We’ll see.” Chenle continues chopping the onion, sending a quick smile your way when you finish washing the green peppers and putting them down in front of him.
He figured he’d be used to you by now—to the feelings he’s harbored for so long. But every time you prove, once again, that you know him just as well as you know yourself, it makes him want you so much more.
Chenle ended up making dinner, too, which was simply microwaving ramen for each person until everyone was content. Mark, Hyuck, Jaem, Jeno, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were all leaving by six, swearing they wouldn’t be home too late.
“Make them order pizza or something,” you suggest to him as you dry the dishes he washes. “They’re grown adults with money.”
“I kinda like this,” he admits.
“Cooking for the same friends you’ve been cooking for since 7th grade?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he snorts.
“Cooking for people in general,” he corrects. “And I like that you’re here to help me. Or just here at all.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t mean it like that. Let me appreciate your company, asshole.” He finishes up the last dish and turns the water off before handing it to you.
You hum in response, quickly drying it before setting it in the cupboard where it goes. Turning toward him, you lean the small of your back on the counter while your hands grip the edge. Your gaze scans over him, and he swears he feels his spine twist in the most delicate of ways. He loves when you look at him, and whenever you study him, he wonders what kind of lessons he teaches you.
“Thanks for staying back with me,” you say.
“Of course.” He waves you off. “I didn’t want to go to the bar anyway.”
“So, what do we do?”
Chenle chuckles. “Not a clue. The possibilities are endless, I guess.”
“Do you still have that karaoke machine?” You narrow your eyes at him as you await his response.
“Is that even a question? Hell yeah, I do. We can get it set up?”
The smile spreading across your face makes his heart skip, and despite how much he wants to reach out for your hand to pull you down the hall, all he does is gesture to the direction you need to go in.
You clap your hands, quickly following his lead.
This room used to be an office of sorts, but has since evolved now that Chenle’s parents don’t come here anymore. The desk has been pushed against the wall next to the TV, and a large couch takes up the majority of the room. A long time ago, he thought it’d be funny to buy a karaoke machine after he’d realized how much he likes to sing, and it just so happened that you felt the same way.
Every time the two of you come here, it’s a must. However, he hasn’t had the opportunity to have it be just you. Someone else was always intruding on his time, at least for the past few years.
Part of the reason he fell for you in the first place was because of how similar you were to him. You shared similar interests and passions that he didn’t usually find in other people. That, or he wasn’t looking once he realized how much he wanted you.
He loves music, and in every piece he hears, he finds you.
You deeply relate to the music you enjoy, and he admires that about you as well. You pick the songs for the evening, and he has no qualms. He’d rather listen to your picks on repeat than try and go off on his own.
The night starts off easy, some of the songs you pick are classics that you make him do every time. After three songs, you picked Cruel Summer. He knows all the lyrics by now—he memorizes everything that comes out of your pretty lips, regardless of if it’s a song or not. He’ll never forget those lyrics for as long as he lives.
Your laugh is so damn contagious. He tries his best to pull that sound from you every chance he gets, but the air around you is…bittersweet. These moments are his favorite—where he gets to have fun with you and forget the rest of the world exists. But they also make him want you more, and everything you could give him. He wants to be yours, and nights like these prove to him that you’re not.
Three songs in, and you’re both panting and laughing your asses off. Karaoke is never just singing—no, you dance until your legs feel like they’ll give out. That’s Chenle’s number one rule, that it’s never enough to sing the songs. You’ve got to perform them.
But Cruel Summer starts, and he can’t help but see the irony of you singing it in his presence. Or him joining you in it.
Fever dream high in the quiet of the night
You know that I caught it
He sings along, but he quiets himself. Listening to you has become one of his favorite pastimes, so he’ll take any opportunity he can. He dances with you, spins you around, and begs any sort of higher power that he can have you like this forever.
And it's new, the shape of your body
It's blue, the feeling I've got
And it's ooh, whoa, oh
It's a cruel summer
It's cool, that's what I tell 'em
No rules in breakable heaven
A gold gleam catches in the dim lighting when he twirls you in a circle, and he grins. He loves when you wear that bracelet—which is all the time, because he’s got one nearly identical, but yours has his name on it and his has yours.
The chorus makes him move around the room, hyping you up at every chance he has. You laugh through the lyrics, out of breath from the previous songs, too.
So cut the headlights, summer's a knife
I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone
Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes
And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know
God, he fucking loves you.
The room fades around him while he’s having fun with you, and he wishes he could spend every moment this way. With the excited glow to you, the carefree laughter, the genuine fun.
I'm drunk in the back of the car
And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)
Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
As the lyrics pick up, he joins in for real. This part of the song is his favorite, because the next lyrics are exactly what he wants to say to you but can’t work up the courage to do it.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He imagines hearing those words from you, too full of emotion to keep them in any longer. You yell the lyrics between laughter, throwing your head back and dancing as if you’ve been drinking. He watches you so fondly, he’s sure you’ll notice.
The chorus comes back, and you walk up to him like you’re serenading him, making dramatic hand motions while he laughs at you. His whole body buzzes when you’re like this. When everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you
And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
Something changes. He doesn’t notice at first, but your expression changes. The song is about to end, and his heart lurches violently in his chest.
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He looks at you as the last lyrics pour from your mouth, the wide smile on your face dissipating when you see how close he is to you. Instead of yelling them like you did last time, the words trail off, barely leaving your mouth as a whisper. His chest heaves from the energy expended, yours mirroring his. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, the adrenaline sitting on top of his lungs as his brain malfunctions on what to do next.
Honestly, he doesn’t know who does it. Someone leans forward, and your lips are locked. Passion lingers, desperation tugging at his very soul at the feeling of your arms around him. His heart pounds in his ears, almost blocking out how Cruel Summer’s instrumental repeats in the background.
He clenches his fists in the fabric of your shirt, praying, hoping this isn’t one of his bullshit dreams. Without any idea how it happened, he relishes in the softness of your mouth, the way you accept his tongue so easily, and the soft moan you let out when he tugs on your bottom lip gently.
He pants harder now, forehead against yours as he tries to figure out what the hell he should do. You should stop. All of this is a mistake—he didn’t want his first time with you to be like this, where his want makes his pants tighter in record time. The only logical thought in his brain is that damn sound you just made and how he can drag it from you again and again.
Thunder booms in his veins as he pulls you back to him, the second he was without your kiss much too long. You press yourself to him, digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s almost like he has no control over his actions at the moment, the long-standing need for you clouding his judgment.
The pretty, pretty sound you make when he spins you around and practically slams the small of your back against the edge of his desk has him forgetting everything else exists. It’s only you. You and how fucking badly he wants you.
He doesn’t dare speak a word.
Inhaling sharply, he sweeps his arm across all the miscellaneous junk on top of it, successfully and messily clearing a spot for you to sit. You take the hint, hoisting yourself up on the edge and spreading your legs to give him room.
Heat pulses through the room, sending waves through his body. He wants to peel all of his clothes off, have you naked beneath him, and take you in all the ways he’s dreamed off. The glimpse of your black panties below that damn skirt has him more than ready for you.
You tug him closer, interrupting the way he stares at your core. His cock already strains, begging to be buried inside you. He’s not sure where the hell this side of him came from, but the dark gleam in your eyes has him forgetting there’s anything wrong with it.
Sweat already arises on his skin, the mere thought of having you this way enough to send him into a fucking cardiac arrest. There’s no time to be timid—he reaches beneath your skirt to find the hem of your panties, mouths still clashing beautifully.
Without interrupting the kiss, you nod, lifting your hips up so he can rip the skimpy fabric from your body.
Your hands fly down to his pants, and his heart starts doing backflips. Neither of you has said a word, and he thinks for a moment that he should…just to make sure he’s what you want. But at the same time, he figures you know as much as he does how this is a long time coming.
“Do you—”
“I need you right fucking now,” you murmur, shaky fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Fuck, help me.”
His mouth waters. He wishes he could take his time with you, but having you squirming and asking for him to be inside you makes him crazy. Without wasting another second, he reaches down and pushes his pants down to the middle of his thighs. He gasps when you grab him over his boxers, gripping him like you’ve done this exact thing with him hundreds of times.
God, he can’t fucking take it anymore. Pushing your back down against the desk, he flips your skirt up to expose your slick entrance to him. One of his hands grips your hip and digs his nails into your skin, and the other pushes his boxers down.
He debates with himself for a second on how he should do this. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he’ll really fucking explode if he’s not inside you within the next ten seconds. He plans on being good, on giving you a second to adjust to him, but when he gently starts pushing inside you, your wetness gushes around him.
Your walls stretch to accommodate him, and your back arches on the wood, and your mouth falls open, and suddenly he can’t control himself. If he gives himself a few seconds to enjoy you while he’s buried so deep, he’ll never be able to let you go. He’ll need to be inside all the time, and that doesn’t sound much like best friends.
Your moans spill recklessly past your lips, the jolt of his thrusts distorting the sound. Fuck, he loves you, but he never imagined sex could feel this good. You flutter around him, urging his cock to move faster, and he does his best to oblige. The desk slams into the wall over and over again, the sound almost as erotic as the sight before him.
You try and fail to find something to hold onto, and when he sees your friendship bracelet—the one with his fucking name on it—he loses it. He puts his hand beneath your neck, pulling you up so you’re face to face. Your face is blissed out, eyes barely staying open as he gives you everything he’s got.
His skin is sticky with sweat, the clothes uncomfortably clinging to his back, he reaches between the two of you, growing frustrated that he left your skirt on. He throbs inside you, desperate to reach his end, so gives the fabric a firm tug, and you gape when it rips at the seam. He half-expects you to scold him for ruining a perfectly good outfit, but instead, your hips buck toward his.
A tingling sensation forms at the base of his length, and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he reaches completion. Without wasting another second, his hand dives between your legs, your arousal making his thumb glide effortlessly across your clit.
Your body shakes, and you lean forward to bury your head in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to contain yourself. He can’t hold back his moans, moving just a bit faster and adjusting his angle to increase your pleasure.
“Fuck, Ch—”
He tangles his fingers in your hair and tugs you back to watch your face.
“Fu—Close,” you whine, lifting your hips to match his thrusts. “I’m cu—”
You cut yourself off with a scream of pleasure, and he swears your walls clamp down on him so tightly, his cock will get stuck. His thrusts falter at the overwhelming feeling of your euphoria, and as soon as it hits you, he’s spurting inside you.
He kisses up the side of your neck, barely breathing properly as he regains his composure. His orgasm wracks his body, pulsing throughout his veins and his bones.
You grasp onto him for dear life, and he returns your embrace. His chest is against yours, both hearts pounding.
And then reality sets in. The music returns to his ears, the beat to Cruel Summer still on a loop, and he wonders how closely you relate to the lyrics.
“Um,” you say breathlessly. “Wow.”
“That…”
“Happened.” You nod, a dazed look on your face as you blink past the shock.
He gulps, wishing that best friend telepathy was real at a time like this. How does he respond to that? Did you enjoy it? Are you already regretting it?
“Chenle,” you murmur.
“Yeah?”
“You’re still…inside me.”
His face burns, and he quickly pulls out of you, trying not to look at the mess he knows is between your legs. He turns away from you to settle himself back in his pants, and he finds your panties on the ground where he threw them.
He gives them to you, and you awkwardly shuffle off the desk before sliding the fabric back up your legs. But he doesn’t want you to…walk away. He wants to take you back to his bed and cuddle you to sleep. To take care of you like he should after such an intimate moment.
Surely, he can’t kiss you, can he?
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Seriously?” You frown at him. “That’s what you want to ask me right now?”
“I don’t really know how to—”
The front door opens, just down the hall as your drunk group of friends arrives back. Your face drops, and you curse under your breath.
“Damn it.” You frantically look around for something to cover your lower half before you go.
Guilt tears at Chenle’s chest—not just because of the ripped skirt, but because it seems like you’re not very happy with your decision. The last thing he ever wanted was to push you into anything. He grabs a blanket from the couch on the other side of the room and hands it to you.
“Chenle! (Y/N)!” Jaemin’s hammered voice booms across the house.
“(Y/N), can we just—”
“Not now, Chenle.” You shake your head, wrapping yourself up in the blanket and grabbing the split fabric to hide it.
You loop your fingers in his belt loops to tug him close to you, and his jaw drops as he stumbles over. Instead of doing any of the things he wanted you to, you tuck his shirt into his jeans. He’s about to ask you what you’re doing, but then he feels how soaked it is.
Again, his face is on fire. How the hell is he supposed to do this?
He runs his fingers through your hair to fix the tangles, heart racing. As soon as he takes a step away from you, the door opens. Jaemin pours in without any concern.
“Well,” you say, chuckling. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“(Y/N), wait—” Chenle reaches out to you but decides at the last minute to stop, knowing how much is riding on that damn blanket staying put.
“Goodnight, Chenle.” You glance at him, eyes wide and swirling with something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“It smells weird in here,” Jaemin grumbles as he waddles around the room. “Why?”
“Dunno,” Chenle replies with a grimace. “It’s because you’re drunk. Off to bed with all of us.”
Yep…except he’ll be alone, when all he wants is to be curled up with you.
Day 3 | June 3rd
When Chenle wakes up in the morning, he’s pretty sure everything was a dream. He messes with the bracelet latched on his wrist, gulping at the memory of you. How is he supposed to act normally now?
He has to talk to you. Figure out what the hell you’re thinking, because if you regret it, it might break his heart, but he’ll know how you feel about him. You’ve told each other stories of previous relationships, hook-ups, whatever just came out randomly. He never imagined he’d be one of those hook-ups.
And now his bed is all too empty without you, and it’s only day three.
Images of the night before flash through his mind, and he analyzes everything he sees to try and figure out what he did wrong. If he did something wrong. You almost always sleep next to him, so if this persists, the others will begin to notice, too.
He gets out of bed, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants as he makes his way to the kitchen. Everyone else is awake, the guys and Heewon sitting on the couch. You and Chaeyoung were nowhere to be found, but he tried his best to make it nonchalant. He didn’t want everyone to know he messed up with you. That explanation would be hard.
He glances in the kitchen and still doesn’t see you or your closest friend (besides him, obviously), so he sighs and sits on the far end of the couch. The awkwardness creeps in, like the whole group secretly knows what you two did. Like they’re silently judging him for single-handedly ruining your friendship.
“Who shit in your cheerios?” Hyuck asks, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Huh?” Chenle frowns. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”
“Oh, (Y/N) said you weren’t feeling well last night. She and Chaeyoung went to town to grab some medicine or something.” Mark stretches before getting up to go into the kitchen. “She seemed worried, are you okay?”
Chenle gulps, and he hopes it’s not noticeable. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Thankfully, they continue their conversation. He can relax for a bit, and then when you come back, he’ll pull you aside. After all, he won’t let this fester. He needs to talk to you—to find out if you view him any differently since he crossed that line with you. The last thing he wants is for anything to change. He likes your friendship the way it is, but he’s also been so desperately in love with you for so long that hope clings to him like a leech.
The door opens, and his head jolts toward it when he hears your laugh. His hands clench into fists, and he’s halfway certain he looks like a lost puppy right now.
The second you see him, he watches your expression change. Your giggle stops halfway through, and you clear your throat as you give him the same wide-eyed look you gave him last night. He wants to jump up and tell you things don’t have to change, maybe even beg you for your forgiveness and say he’ll do anything to keep you in his life—
You and Chaeyoung disappear into the kitchen, and Mark comes back in shortly after. Chenle’s getting antsy, his anxiety sparking at the bottom of his spine as his foot taps on the floor. If he jolts up and runs after you, everyone will know something is wrong.
And if they all know, it’s only a matter of time before Jaemin opens his big mouth, and then you’ll be forever embarrassed by the idea of sleeping with Chenle, and summer vacations will never be the same.
So he gives you five minutes.
“...need to figure things out.” Chaeyoung’s voice is hushed, standing next to you on the far end of the kitchen.
“Yeah, tell me about it. But I—” You stop the moment you catch Chenle in the room.
“I think Jeno needs me for something,” Chaeyoung mentions, sending a small smile his way before darting out of the room. He sighs. If you told Chaeyoung, you’re probably more freaked out than he thought.
You look down at your feet as he approaches you.
“We need to talk about this,” he mutters. “I don’t like feeling like I fucked up.”
Your gaze darts up to his, your eyebrows furrowed as you scan over his face. “This isn’t really the best place to talk, Le. Any of them could walk in right now.’
“I’m not just—I’m not going to forget about it. It happened, okay? And it’s okay if you’re upset by it and you never want to be near me again, but I…I need to know. The silence is killing me.” He realizes it hasn’t been that long, but sleeping alone really got to him.
“Why would you think I’m upset?” you ask.
“You practically ran away from me last night. And you usually sleep with me, and you didn’t. You didn’t even tell me you were going anywhere this morning.”
“I figured you’d know where I was going.” You cross your arms over your chest, glancing away from him.
“How could I possibly have known?” he inquires.
“Chenle…” You let out a small laugh. “You…you came inside me last night. Chaeyoung took me to buy Plan B.”
His jaw drops as he flounders for words. Cheeks burning, he drops his head into his hands and sighs. “I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t even realize, I was so—I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I would ever—”
“Relax.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “I was the one who kissed you. You’re psyching yourself out, because I don’t regret it or anything like that. Actually, I’d…kinda like to do it again.”
Alarm bells ring in his head, and his eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out of his skull when he looks at you fast enough to give himself whiplash.
“You want to…” he trails off, lowering his voice. “...have sex with me again?”
“I mean, only if you want to.” You chew the inside of your cheek, fidgeting with your fingers. Quickly, you continue, “Obviously, nothing has to change. Like, I’m not asking you for…a relationship or anything. There won’t be any rules. Except the fact that you have to…you know, use a condom, but we could just…have a good summer.”
His heart sinks. What you’re proposing is not what he wants. It further proves to him you don’t reciprocate the feelings that led him to his recklessness last night. He shouldn’t agree. No, he should say he’d prefer to keep anything…sexual…out of your friendship, but God damn it, he was tired of leaving his love on the side. Maybe he can’t tell you out loud, but if you’re okay with sleeping with him, he’ll show you.
“Chenle?” you whisper. “I’m sorry if that’s too much. You can forget I said anything.”
You scramble to gather yourself before you try to turn away from him. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” He pauses, sighing. “Are you sure, (Y/N)? This could get messy.”
“I know I said no rules, but I’m a little bit of a control freak—”
“You act like this is the first time I’ve met you.” Chenle chuckles.
You glare at him before continuing. “Anyway. Nobody can know. I told Chae, but she had to drive me so she doesn’t count. Plus, she won’t tell the others. So, we act normal around our friends, okay? And we don’t…talk about it. Things happen as they will, and we wait until at least the end of June to figure things out.”
“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he admits, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“We don’t have to change. But I did like yesterday, and it’s been so long since someone’s made me—” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips into a line. “You know what I mean.”
“I…Yeah, I do know you’ve been with trash guys—”
You gently smack his chest, glaring at him. “That was not permission for a dig.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, his heart melting in his chest when he sees the smile spread on your face. Maybe you don’t have feelings for him, but you don’t hate him—that’ll be enough to get him through this. At least for a while.
“So, we’re good?” You look up at him.
He’s no match for you. Not in any case or situation. His heart belongs to you, and it tears him apart piece by piece to know yours isn’t his.
“Of course, we’re good.” He nods, pulling you in for a hug and sighing in relief. “We can do whatever you want to do.”
“Oh, but that sounds like you don’t want to.” You cringe, but he laughs.
“This is kind of new territory, you know. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have done it the first time.” God, but he wants so much more. He wants all of you, not just momentary flings.
You pull back from him, your gaze gleaming. “And how long have you wanted to do that?”
“I’ll have to get drunk before I tell you the answer to that.” He snorts. “Let’s go back out there before they realize how long we’ve been in here.”
The rest of the day was uneventful to say the least. Chenle was happy to have you back at least in your normal friendship way, so he just enjoyed the way you put your legs over his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.
He didn’t feel awkward around the group like he expected to be, but it wasn’t until later in the night when it really set in. With the two of you in his bedroom, the door closed (and locked).
Watching you closely, he’s dying to reach out and touch you. He’s not sure if it’s normal urges he always felt or if they’re new, from the way he had you just yesterday. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fidgets with his hands.
“You don’t have to be awkward,” you mention to him as you pull your shirt over your head.
He’s not a stranger to seeing your body. You’ve never been uncomfortable changing with him in the room, and he does the same with you. He almost laughs to himself at the thought of seeing you more naked beforehand than while you had sex. His mind races, and when you reach behind your back for the clasp of your bra, his face heats up and he averts his gaze.
It doesn’t matter what he agreed to—it doesn’t feel right to look at you in a state like this without your permission.
Once you’ve pulled one of his T-shirts over your head, you walk over to him, nestling yourself between his legs. He gulps as he looks up at you. Your finger traces along his jaw, eyes scanning over his face.
“Normal, right?” he whispers, gripping the back of your thighs.
“Totally normal.” You nod.
“But I still can…kiss you? If I feel like it?” His voice almost fails him, his heart lodged in his throat.
“When we’re alone, you can do whatever you want.”
Your words make his heart stop in his chest, and he realizes the implications of this. If he’s fallen completely for you without kissing, sex, and the intimacy of those physical aspects, what will it be like when he gets you whenever he wants?
“I want it, too.” You cup his cheeks and tilt his head up.
“And if it’s just kissing?” he asks. “What if that’s all I want right now?”
“Whatever you want,” you reassure him. “I’m not expecting you to want sex every night, you psycho.”
“C’mere.” He pulls you closer, one of his hands grasping the nape of your neck. The initial brush of your lips against his has his breath shuddering. He’s not prepared for any of this. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, but the way your mouth tastes has every sense in his body heightened.
He curses under his breath when you climb on top of him and straddle his lap. It still feels like he’s taking advantage of you like this—you don’t know his true feelings, so how could he do this to you?
“Chenle.” You sigh and halt your movements. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to—”
He shakes his head, hands immediately flying to your ass and pushing you closer to him. His length is beginning to harden, and he moves you to make sure you feel it through his shorts.
“I…want you.” He squeezes, making your hips roll.
“Then what’s going on?” you ask.
“I just need to get used to it,” he replies. “To acknowledge how much I…It just feels kinda like I’m dreaming.”
“Why?”
“You…” His cheeks are so hot, he thinks they’ll burn off. “I never thought you’d want me like this.”
You chuckle, and much to his dismay, climb off his lap and get into bed. “Little do you know, I was thinking the same thing.”
He yearns to reach out to you, to pull you back to him, but instead, he lets out a sigh and takes his spot next to you. The last thing he needs to do is push you. He’d walk on eggshells if he had to, if only it meant he could keep whatever fragile intimacy occurring between you.
He wraps his arm around your waist, taking a deep breath as you turn toward him and bury your head in his chest.
And after you fall asleep, he’s still up through the night, trying to figure out if there’s any chance of this ending in his favor.
Day 5 | June 5th
He wants you.
Everything inside him burns at the thought of your agreement, and he needs to pull you away from your friends and have his way with you. He tells himself over and over again that patience is key, but he can’t stand it.
The last few days were uneventful—well, as uneventful as they could be when it came to his newfound physicality with you. He thinks of kissing you in front of everyone, showing all of them where his head has been since the second night at this damn place.
How is he so needy after three days?
In closed quarters, you kiss him, hug him, grind on him, he’s sure his head is going to explode any moment. The night at the bonfire is coming to a close, but not fast enough.
“(Y/N)!” Mark calls out from the water’s edge. “How much money for you to jump in?”
You let out a loud ha! and shuffle away from Chenle. The air is warm, so he knows you’ll be okay, but he’s also concerned by how much he’s interested in seeing your body soaked with—
Hyuck’s hand smacks Chenle’s chest, causing him to cough and shoot a glare at the other man. “What the hell?”
“Why are you staring like that?” Hyuck asks. “Nervous Mark’s gonna steal your girl?”
“She’s not my girl.” He has to force the words out. After all, he doesn’t really believe them….or want to. “I’m just tired.”
Donghyuck lets out a childish chuckle, putting his beer bottle to his lips and chugging the rest of it. Chenle sips his own drink, returning his grumpy stare to you. You’re laughing uncontrollably as you climb out of the water, soaked from head to toe. Your head falls back as you hit Mark’s arm, barely able to contain yourself from whatever Donghyuck made him miss.
You’re barely lit by the firelight, but Chenle’s never seen someone so beautiful. Fooling your friends won’t be hard—he knows damn well he’s always acted the same way around you that he does now, and he certainly has been this clingy since day one. You give him one of your award-winning grins, and before he can object, you flop yourself down on his lap, cackling evilly as the water soaks through his clothes, too.
“(Y/N), what the hell—” Chenle attempts to push you off, but you push yourself into him further.
“I’m soaked.” You don’t stop giggling, but Chenle hates the way he reacts to those words.
His face flames, and before you understand what happened, he pushes you from his lap so you’re sitting next to him on the chair. You look at him inquisitively, and he ignores you with another quick drink.
Music plays from the speakers. You get up to switch the song since your phone is the one set up. It’s only at that moment he realizes you know exactly what you’re doing. Cruel Summer plays, and every inch of his body catches on fire.
His throat dries, and you look at him over your shoulder.
Despite every muscle in his body craving for him to approach you and pull you back into the house, he gets up to grab another bottle instead. The night is going to drag, and he’s almost guilty for how he’s thinking. He’s supposed to be here and enjoying the summer with his friends, and all he wants is to be alone with you.
Pushing you to the back of his mind, he tries to engage more in conversations with the group. He gets into a somewhat heated discussion with Jaemin about global warming, and when you take your spot next to him, he naturally puts his arm around you as you lean into him.
“Can we go to bed?” you ask him, lips brushing his ear. “I’m tired.”
“We should wait,” he replies, taking in the rest of the group. “Just a bit longer, okay?”
You whine quietly but nod, putting your head on Chenle’s shoulder. He’s itching to drag you to his bedroom, but he wants things to be as normal as possible. The two of you rarely cut the party short, and on top of that, he’d prefer to know where everyone else was before he started touching you.
It’s only another ten minutes before Heewon decides she’s done for the night. Chenle nearly sighs in relief.
Everyone agrees to head in, and you all casually separate with a quick goodnight. As soon as Chenle’s door closes behind him, he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.
“You okay?” you ask him, turning him to face you. “You’ve been off all day.”
He shakes his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he examines you. “You…you said you wanted this, and I’m kind of confused. If you act the same, how do I know when you…you know.”
Your eyes gleam as you smile at him. The sight alone has his heart doing somersaults, and he suddenly wishes he could take the question back. He’s tired of wondering—he needs to figure out what all of this means.
“You’re so cute, Lele,” you tease him. “How are you supposed to know when I want you? Always. I’ve been waiting for you to initiate because you seemed a little uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to push you.”
“So, all I need to do is tell you when I’m…” He cringes at himself. “This is weird.”
You move closer to him and sling your arms over his shoulders. “Exactly. All you have to say is that you want me, and I’m yours.” Your voice is so soft and sweet, it caresses his ears and flows into his brain, and his senses become overrun by you.
“I do. Right now.” Is all he says before he swallows his nerves and connects his mouth with yours. You gasp against him, startled at the sudden movement, but within seconds, return his gesture.
His hands move to the small of your back and press you as close as possible, his lips working messily against yours. He wastes no more time; walking you backward, he lets you fall back onto the mattress.
Settling himself between your legs, he takes a second to look at you—to study your face and the look in your eyes that’s never really changed. He wonders how long you’ve wanted him for. Your thighs part to welcome him perfectly, sighing when he rolls his hips tentatively.
“This,” he whispers, lips grazing your neck. “This is how it should’ve been the first time.”
His nerves seep away when your body shudders beneath his. Your hair is still slightly damp, clinging to your skin and enticing him further. He grinds his hardening length over your core and kisses you gently.
“You have to be quiet,” he continues. “Jaemin and Jeno are right down the hall.”
You nod, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back to you. “I know. I’ll be good, Lele.”
He gapes for a moment, not used to words having such an effect on him. Gulping, he reaches up and runs his thumb along your bottom lip.
“That’s right,” he confirms. “Be a good girl for me and you won’t regret it.”
Your gaze gets a shade darker, and the thought of what awaits him beneath your clothes overwhelms him completely. You grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off his body. He moves back to remove it, and then you’re arching your back to allow him to do the same to you. Sitting on his knees, he moves his hands up your body until they’re squeezing your breasts through your black lace bra.
“Can I—”
“You don’t have to ask, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, lifting his head so he sees you. “I trust you.”
He’s uncomfortably hard at this point as he takes your shorts off you. Your panties match your bra, and he swears he’s never been closer to finishing in his pants. Nobody has ever made him weak like you do. They’ve never appealed to him in the same way, a way of adoration and love and all the beautiful things life has to offer.
You sit up to unclasp the material supporting your chest, tossing it across the room. Everything inside Chenle melts. You, in this vulnerable state, staring at him impatiently as he pushes you back against the mattress.
He dips down, taking your nipple in his mouth. A quiet sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and his hips buck against yours. He grinds against you as if he’s already thrusting in and out, and he groans at the thought of your wetness all over him.
His nails drag up and down your thigh, and as he pulls away from your breast to move to the other, a strand of saliva follows. The sight is far more erotic than he imagined, and he grips your thigh harshly.
“Kiss me,” you ask him. “Please.”
And someone like him could never deny someone like you—he lunges upward to capture your mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he moves his hand to the hem of your panties. He pulls away for a second, glancing at you once for confirmation.
You nod, almost frantically, and he decides it’s okay to let go for tonight. You want him as badly as he wants you, so why should he hold back? He curses under his breath the second he feels your arousal on his fingertips.
At first, he teases you, running his finger up your entrance until he’s brushing your clit. He smirks at the way you squirm beneath him, desperate for his touch. He’s the one you want.
“Ask me nicely,” he hums against your neck. “Be good and tell me you need me.”
“God, Chenle,” you whine, rocking your hips. “Please touch me. I need you so bad.”
His own eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You grip him so tightly, he wonders how you took him so well just a few nights before. He’d been an asshole and got right to it instead of working you up.
Your breaths turn into whimpers, and your walls quiver around him. He’s already lost in you, in the way you feel on his fingers and the scrunch of your face as you try to hold back the noises you’re desperate to make. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to fall for you more than he already has, but tonight, he learns that falling in love is not linear, and it doesn’t stop.
Tonight, he finds out that it’s a free fall into the deepest ocean, and the only option is to sink further in the water and let the waves take him.
He swallows your quiet moan, positioning his thumb on your clit as he continues his descent into madness. Your walls begin to tighten, so he instinctively kisses you, using his hand to help you ride out the high that’s sending shivers down your body. You squirm beneath him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip.
“Where are the condoms?” he asks you.
Still dazed, you blink a couple times. “Uh, I…they’re in the nightstand I think.”
He kisses your cheek, irritated at the coldness when he moves away from you. Sighing in relief once he finds the box, he opens it and tears one away from the rest. He tries to swallow his nerves, but when he sees you resting on your elbows, waiting for him, he halts.
This is you.
The one he’s always been able to be himself around, and what if he’s ruining it by thinking with his dick?
“I know that look.” You lift yourself off the bed and approach him, grabbing the wrapper from him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I want to,” he says, wetting his lips. “I want you, but I don’t want to lose you.”
You frown, shaking your head and pulling him closer. “It doesn’t matter how this goes, Le. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”
I love you almost slips, but he holds it back. But God, he’s sure he’s never loved you more.
You reach down to push his shorts and boxers down before guiding him back. He sits on the edge of the bed, gripping your hips and refraining from yanking you onto his lap and sliding his cock in.
When you open the condom wrapper, his heart is about to jump out of his chest. And then you’re putting it on him, pushing your panties to the floor, climbing onto his lap to straddle him, and rubbing his tip against your entrance.
It’s like time stops as you sink down on his length. Moonlight flits in through the windows, illuminating your body and your skin and the subtle eye roll. He can’t breathe. Every time he tries, his lungs fail him, as if you’re drowning him with everything you have.
He wraps his arms around you, your chest pressing to his as he slowly, slowly guides you down on him. You both sigh together, trying not to alert your friends down the hall.
“You’re amazing,” he mutters, dazed. “Feels so fucking good.”
You drop your head onto his shoulder, your uneven breaths fanning across his skin. He rocks his hips, but your tightness almost makes it hard for him to move. This time, he doesn’t want to rush. He wants to enjoy all you have to offer and take his time with you—make love to you, really.
“Hold on, baby,” he whispers, wrapping you in his arms. “Gonna turn us over.”
He does just that, the clench of your walls on his cock enough to make him delirious. After you shift to get comfortable, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pushes your hand deep into the mattress next to your head.
With his chest brushing yours, he moves, taking his time in pulling out only to push back in. Your head falls back against the mattress, your eyes closing. You squeeze his hand as hard as you can, doing your best to lift your hips to match his thrusts.
The room is full of moonlight, soft pleasure, and the sound of him pushing into your dripping entrance.
He whispers praises in your ear, telling you how good you make him feel and how you take him so well. The slickness of sweat makes your bodies stick together, and the room gets hotter and hotter the longer he’s seated deeply inside you.
The first time he had you, he barely had time to process what happened. This time, he’s basking in the moment, giving you gentle kisses over your face as he keeps a steady pace. He wants to stay here like this forever, but he knows better than to let that thought run rampant in his head.
He releases your hand—which ends up in his hair—as he reaches between the two of you and presses his fingers to your clit. You whine a little louder than you should, so Chenle silences you with his mouth. The position is a bit awkward for him, but the buck of your hips makes sure that’s the last thing on his mind.
Your body shudders beneath him, moans spilling into his mouth for him to swallow and keep for his own. He thrusts a little faster, eager to bring you to your edge and experience your pleasure for himself.
You whisper his name like a mantra, euphoria quickly claiming you as you drag your nails down his back. In the midst of that feeling and your walls clamping around him, he bursts into the condom, cursing under his breath.
Despite his dry throat, he manages to kiss along your neck while attempting to regain his breath.
“That,” he tells you. “Is how it should’ve been.”
“Feel free to do it like that all the time.” Your tired giggle fills his ears.
He squeezes your thigh gently as he pulls out of you, ready to groan at the loss. You lay there with a smile on your face as he disposes of the condom in the adjoining bathroom. When he returns to you, he’s surprised to find you under the blankets on your side.
When he raises an eyebrow at you, you shrug. “You can get dressed if you want. I’m too tired.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he climbs into bed next to you and pulls you close to him. Your skin is damp with sweat, but he’s sure his is worse. He kisses the top of your head, and just like so many nights before, he hums songs for you until you fall asleep.
Day 6 | June 6th
In the night, you curled further into him. His eyes are closed, but he’s been up for a while. Fingers trailing up and down your spine, he thinks he’s reached his peak. The summer sun amplified through the window warms his skin, but more importantly, it illuminates you and the softness of your features as you sleep.
The brightness blinds him, but he doesn’t mind. Not when his focal point is you.
He made love to you last night. All of his feelings were delivered to you on a silver platter and, just for a brief moment, he thinks he saw it back from you. Like there’s a part of you—however small—that wanted him the same way.
The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall wakes you, and you wrap your arm around him tighter.
“This is nice,” you murmur, kissing the base of his neck.
“I think so, too.”
“Do we have to get up?” You shake your head as if answering your own question.
He chuckles. “It might look weird if we don’t.”
“I need to shower.” You shift onto your back and run your hands down your face.
He uses the opportunity to move over you and kiss down your neck, finding your pulse quicker than it should be after just waking up. Nipping your skin to stop his smirk, he inhales your scent.
“You could always come with,” you offer, running your fingers through his hair.
“Now, that’ll be obvious.” He chuckles and pulls away from you, removing himself from the blanket as he stretches. When he looks back at you, you’ve already grabbed his T-shirt from the ground and are in the process of putting it on. He gets a brief glimpse of you. Slamming his eyes shut, he assumes nothing good will come of seeing your naked image in his mind over and over again.
The bed dips behind him as you climb over, draping your arms over his neck and kissing his cheek. “You should do it anyway.”
He snorts and pushes you away jokingly. With your signature grin plastered on your face, you make your way into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Once he hears the water starting, he drags himself over to his bag to get dressed. He decides on a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and on his way out of the room, Jeno is also heading for the kitchen.
Chenle avoids his eyes as much as possible, wondering if any of his escapade with you last night was audible for him or Jaemin. Chasing the thought out of his head, he goes straight for the water bottles in the fridge.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” Mark asks, eating the watermelon Chaeyoung cut up a couple days back.
“She’s in the shower,” Chenle replies nonchalantly, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.
“You didn’t want to join her?” Heewon laughs from the side as she butters her toast.
He narrows his eyes in her direction. “And why would I do that?”
“Well, you guys do everything else together,” she replies.
That earns her a cackle from Hyuck, but Chenle shakes his head.
“We don’t do everything else together.”
“Right, you guys are just dating without the benefits of getting off.” Mark pretends to be lost in thought.
Chenle’s heart twists violently in his chest, nearly lurching him forward. He wants everything from you—anything you want to give him, he’d take without hesitation. Heewon scolds Mark quietly and smacks his arm, because apparently that was what was too far.
He half expects Jeno to pipe up and expose exactly how opposite your relationship with Chenle is now, but he stays silent. Hopefully, that means Jaemin and Jeno heard nothing from last night. Your sounds were for Chenle and Chenle only, and a part of him felt glory in that.
The teasing from the friend group never bothered him before, but with this new side of your relationship, he let the words sink in deep.
How exactly was he going to make it out of this unscathed?
Day 8 | June 8th
Both of you knew it was risky, but something about you had him bent way out of shape. The group was doing their yearly ice cream run in less than an hour, and all he cared about at the moment was being inside you.
He put you on the bathroom counter, your body next to falling off it if he wasn’t holding onto you so tightly. Without much warning, he enters you completely with one thrust. His hand covers your mouth, capturing the moan spilling past your lips. Your eyes roll back, and he swears that sight alone is almost enough to get him off.
You murmur his name against his palm, head lolling back.
“Sorry, Sunshine.” He nips your earlobe as he rocks his hips gently to help you adjust to his size. “We’ve gotta be fast.”
“‘M good,” you say, gripping tightly onto his shoulders.
He takes the hint, beginning his movements a bit quicker than he normally would. Even though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in days, the world sways around him as if he’s drunk. You’re what’s intoxicating him, and in the moments where you’re connected, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.
One hand rests on the small of your back, and the other stays on your mouth, desperate to finish but needing you to stay quiet. Whenever he thinks of being with you in this way, he tries to fuck you in the ways you deserve—make you feel so good you’re dreaming about it long after you’re done—but both of you are far too desperate right now to consider anything like that.
Your nails leave angry red crescents in his skin, but it only spurs him faster. His hips rutt against yours, his body craving the complete euphoria he’s only ever been able to accomplish with you.
His gaze meets yours, and he finds your eyebrows furrowed. Since he’s got such a firm grip on you, you move one of your hands and slide it down your body, watching him closely as if he’s going to stop you.
As soon as your fingers find your clit, you groan and your walls flutter around his cock. He curses, and his next sharp thrust has you whining.
“I’m so…” you trail off, body nearly falling limp in his grasp.
But just before you reach your high, the bedroom door opens, and there’s approximately two seconds before whoever walks in sees inside the bathroom. The next curse that falls from his lips is for two reasons—one, because all he needed was another minute, and he would’ve reached his high. Two, because he now has to figure out a way to make this look like anything except what it is.
He pulls out of you, readjusting your panties and guiding you off the counter before he tucks his painfully hard cock back into his sweats, condom and all.
“(Y/N)’s sick,” he calls out. “Give us a few minutes and we’ll come out okay? She’ll kill me if I let you see her like this.” He moves over to the door and closes it, locking it before whoever it is can see the mess you’ve turned him into.
“Oh, be fucking for real,” Chaeyoung’s voice says. “(Y/N), are you really sick? Or are you two—”
You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear her. Instead of letting Chenle answer, you pull your shirt down to cover yourself before cracking the door open.
“I’m okay. We’ll be out in like, two seconds.”
“You horny bitch.” Chaeyoung purses her lips. “Can’t stay off his dick for five minutes.”
Chenle feels his insides churning at that comment. For a moment, he’s sure she’s being serious, but then both of you burst into laughter, and Chenle’s blood cools.
“We would’ve been out already if you hadn’t interrupted us.” You pinch your fingers together. “I was this close.”
“Are you at least using condoms?” she asks in a hushed voice, turning the tips of Chenle’s ears bright pink.
“Yes, mom, now if you could go, I need to put some actual clothes on.” You shoo her away.
“The guys want ice cream. No dick until later,” she tells you, laughing as she walks out of the room.
You let out a sigh and close the door again, biting down on your bottom lip as you look at Chenle.
“Sorry, we don’t really have TMIs, so she…” You clear your throat.
“No, that’s…that’s good that you have someone to talk to about all of this that’s not me,” he says, walking up to you to put his hands on your hips and tug you close. “You think she’ll be mad if I just…”
He turns you so your back is to his chest, lips latching onto your neck as his touch trails down to the hem of your panties.
“I’d hate to leave you hanging when you were this close.” He tongues along your pulse, skimming below the hem of your panties.
“You’d better make it quick, Lele.” You lean your head back on his shoulder. “She’ll kill us.”
He grins smugly at the invitation, allowing his fingertips to graze lower until he finds your clit. You’re still soaked from being robbed of your high, so your body jerks at the sensation. He grinds against your ass, proving to you how badly he wants to be inside you.
“T-this is going to be embarrassingly fast.” You pant, rocking your hips back and forth. “I need more.” Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, pained whines escaping you.
He moves faster on your clit, and before he’s able to comprehend what’s happening, you squirm and bite down on your hand to stop your noises.
“Look at yourself, baby,” he whispers, his other hand sliding up to your throat to guide your face toward the mirror. “Look at how fucking good you look when I’m touching you.”
You inhale sharply, moving your own hand up to his to press his fingers in around your neck. He rubs you faster, taking his own initiative in squeezing you to control your breathing. Looking up at your reflection, he almost starts drooling at the sight of what he’s doing to you.
Your whines turn into breathless wheezes, and seconds later, you part your lips to let out a silent scream of pleasure as your insides clench around nothing.
He slows his circles to help you come down from your high, showering your shoulder and neck with kisses.
“Alright,” he whispers, retracting his touch from you. “We’d better get going.”
“But you didn’t—”
“You’ll make it up to me later.” He kisses you one last time. “You look so fucking sexy when I’m touching you.”
“Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it out of this bathroom,” you warn him.
You’re doing it on purpose.
Every year, the group goes to the same place for ice cream. Chenle’s been coming here ever since he was a young boy, but it’s been at least 5 years since he started bringing the rest of your friends, too. They have new experimental flavors, and it’s his mission to try all of them.
So, of course, he chooses one, and you choose a different one. The two of you are meant to be acting normally, but the way your lips close around his spoon has his mind spiraling. Not to mention how you make eye contact with him, and that damn gleam in your gaze is enough to make his cock jump in his pants.
How did he ever live without being inside you before?
“Hey, guys.” Chaeyoung tosses her arms over the two of you, grinning widely before lowering her voice. “If you don’t want people to know, you’re doing an awful job. You’re looking at each other like you ingested the worst Harry Potter love potion imaginable.”
The word love throws him off track, and he quickly takes his spoon away from you and side steps to run his fingers through his hair. He has no idea what’s gotten into him. Usually, he’s pretty good about this kind of stuff. And to be honest, before he started messing around with you, he wasn’t nearly as horny as he is now.
No, because now, he feels like he needs to be touching you constantly, and if he’s not, he’s wasting valuable time.
He tries his best to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. At some point, you’ll have to go back to being just his best friend. It pains him that this can’t be forever, but at the end of the day, he has you. Whether or not it’s completely is a different story.
Everyone takes their usual table outside, and you sit between him and Chaeyoung. The guys converse, the girls laugh over something, but Chenle isn’t joining either conversation. Worry sinks deep in his gut instead. He wonders if it’s okay for him to be as nonchalant about the two of you having sex as he is.
You’re his best friend. Regardless of his feelings toward you, he should’ve done the mature, right thing and declined this offer.
But he’s in too deep now, and all it takes is one wide smile from you to tilt the earth on its axis.
For the next couple hours at this ice cream parlor, things are back to normal. He suppresses his urges the way he always has. His mind lingers on you, especially when your voice and your laugh echoes in his ears, and this time…
This time, he knows what he has to do.
Day 15 | June 15th
“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You close his bedroom door behind you and cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning.
“Don’t play stupid.” Your foot taps anxiously on the ground. “One week, we’re all over each other, and now you’ve barely even touched me since Chaeyoung almost walked in on us. Is that what’s going on? You’re weirded out that she knows things about us?”
“Us.” He scoffs, tugging his fingers through his hair. “What us, (Y/N)?”
You visibly recoil, hurt playing out on your face as Chenle instantly regrets his words. Even then, he’s not going to back down from this.
“You’re starting to piss me off.”
“I…I don’t want sex.” He shrugs.
You wet your lips and narrow your eyes, trying to comprehend what he means by that. “That’s just—like, that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to have sex with me, Le, but if our friendship is going to survive this, I need you to be honest and open with me.”
“The sex isn’t the problem.”
“Oh.” Your voice waivers, and he immediately wishes he never opened his mouth. A short laugh of disbelief escapes you.
“It’s not you, either,” he quickly adds, grabbing onto your hand. “It’s really not. I…I still need my best friend, though. And it feels like I’m losing that side of you because things are changing. You said nothing would change.”
“I haven’t changed,” you tell him. “Everything I do is exactly what I’ve done last year or the year before that. I’ve been teasing you a little, yeah, but I thought you liked it. Am I an idiot?”
Chenle’s chest deflates. “No. No, you’re not an idiot. I’m an asshole.” He pulls you to his chest and cradles the back of your head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a little kid. All I want is my best friend, and I’m scared that after all of this is over, I’m gonna lose you. I don’t know how to live without you. You know that.”
“You’d only have to worry about ruining our friendship if the dick was bad.” Despite the thickness of your voice, your humor breaks through.
He snorts and pushes you away, rolling his eyes. “Dude, for real?”
“I’m just being honest.” You tug on his arm, and for a moment, he sees a glimpse of your previous friendship.
Maybe everything can work out.
“As your best friend, I think we should watch that movie with Mark and Chae.” You grab his hand and play with his fingers.
“Okay.” He nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
That’s how he ends up curled up with you on the couch, your back pressed to his chest and snuggled up with a blanket. He feels at peace for the first time in a long time, the steadiness of your breathing almost enough to lull him to sleep. The screen plays some sort of superhero movie, but he’s not too interested in it. He’s more interested in the way a small sound tumbles from your lips as you turn toward him.
He holds you close, smiling to himself at the warmth you create. When he glances back up, he meets Chae’s gaze. The woman scans over the two of you, her expression warm. Chenle thinks he imagined it for a moment since he’s so tired, but Chae gives him a thumbs up and turns back to the screen.
Day 16 | June 16th
“Chenle, can I talk to you for a minute?” Chaeyoung asks, leaning on the archway leading into the kitchen.
You went with Heewon and Jaemin to the store, so he had nothing to do otherwise. He nods and follows her into the other room. Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, he tiredly gives her all of his attention.
“What’s up?”
“I saw the way you looked at her yesterday,” she begins, tapping her fingernails against the carpet. “So either you know how you feel or you’re in denial, but you need to tell her. One or both of you are going to get hurt by the end of this if you’re not honest with each other.”
“I appreciate the advice, Chae, but I’m not sure you have all of the facts.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest.
“And what am I missing?” she asks.
“Honestly, you may know some things, but you’ll never know all of it,” he replies. “It’ll never be an easy situation to digest, but we’re best friends. We’re mature enough to handle this.”
“You realize if this all falls apart, it’s going to fuck up the rest of the group, too?” She frowns. “You guys aren’t really thinking this through.”
Right when Chenle goes to answer her, the front door opens, and he hears your conversation with Heewon spill through the house.
“Thanks for your concerns.” Chenle nods once before turning around to find you.
Day 17 | June 17th
Chenle throws his head back, hand tangled in your hair as you take his cock in your mouth. He sits on the edge of the bed and you kneel before him, drooling over his length. Your moans vibrate around him. This is the first time you’ve sucked him off, but he’s already found out this is as addicting as everything else.
“That’s it.” He allows his eyes to flutter shut and his eyebrows furrow the closer he gets. “You always take my cock so well, Sunshine.”
You whine, and his hips buck, slamming his tip into the back of your throat. You constrict around him, and his grip on your head tightens. God, he can’t fucking think straight around you. Your nails dig into his thighs, and despite choking around him, you continue bobbing your head up and down.
The base of his length starts to tingle, and he tugs your hair gently. “Gonna cum, baby, you don’t have to—fuck.”
Your response is to simply hollow your cheeks, the lewd sounds around the two of you almost loud enough to make him worry about others hearing it. The suction from your mouth has him approaching his high rapidly, and once you reach up to touch his balls, he cums in white spurts deep in your throat.
Day 18 | June 18th
“Chenle,” you whisper, leaning closer to him.
The summer wind brushes past the two of you sitting on the little porch connected to his bedroom. It’s the middle of the night, and the only thing covering you is a soft blanket. He has his own, but he regrets that. He wants to be wrapped up with you. The waves crash to the shoreline, the salty, ocean scent infiltrating everything around him.
“Yeah?”
“This is my favorite summer,” you tell him.
“Me too.” He squeezes your arm. “I’d stay just like this forever if I could.”
You make him open his arms before shifting yourself onto his lap and covering him with your blanket as you grind your bare body down onto his.
“What’s the likelihood they hear us out here?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.
“They’ve got a better chance of hearing us inside than this…” he trails off, wondering if he should really allow something like this to happen.
But soon enough, you kiss him for real. And when your lips are working on his, he’s inherently weak for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden, and once it does, you line him up with your entrance.
“We don’t have a condom,” he chokes out, gripping your ass.
“Pull out when you’re about to cum, then,” you tell him. “If that’s okay?”
His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling your mouth to his to seal his fate with a kiss. He guides you down on his cock, groaning at the feeling of taking you raw. You don’t even give yourself time to adjust, instead working your way through your sensitivity by bouncing on him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he reminds you. “Look at how well you take my cock.”
He’s learned so much about you during this short time, but he loves knowing what makes you crumble within minutes. His fingers wrap around your throat, and as he puts the perfect amount of pressure, your eyes roll and your hips work faster.
He tightens his grip, and your whine is interrupted. You show him no mercy, lifting and falling with such precision he wants to fill you up with his load.
The blanket is secure on your grip draping off of Chenle’s shoulders, so you nearly fall against him when his fingers connect with your clit. He’s teetering close to the edge, but he knows he has to pull out. No way is he cumming before you.
Your arousal makes him glide against your bud effortlessly, and he squeezes your throat harder at the same time.
“Chenle.” You gasp, pace changing as you get closer to your high. “Please cum inside. Need to feel your cum dripping out of m—fuck.” Your voice breaks as he thrusts up hard, hitting your spot. A broken moan escapes, nearly cut off by his grip on you, and your walls clamp down on his cock.
He watches you as he spurts his load and paints your insides, but all he sees is a blissed out smile and your heaving chest.
You slump against him and hum quietly. He grabs his blanket and wraps it around both of you, not wanting to leave you just yet. The summer breeze sweeps across the back of his neck, chilling the sweaty dampness.
He wants to tell you so badly.
He loves you. He wants to love you forever, but maybe he’ll only get these fleeting moments.
What a cruel, cruel summer this has become.
Day 19 | June 19th
The days pass so quickly. It’s been eighteen days since he first made you his, and all he wants is to make it last forever. The whole group goes to a movie theater, hopping between different rooms and films to catch a glimpse of everything that’s recently hit the big screens.
But he can’t take his eyes off of you.
The way you smile so widely in his direction. How all of your friends are so used to him being all over you.
Your laugh echoes around in his brain, and when the poor employee realizes what you’re doing, they try to stop you to figure out who you are. Chenle’s giggles join yours as he grasps your hand and pulls you toward the exit.
The two of you run, and with your fingers laced in his, you’re somehow separated from your friend group.
Once you’re outside, he presses your back to the brick of the building, kissing you in the midst of laughing. His hand latches onto the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back, and he works his lips on yours like magic.
How is he ever supposed to go back to normal after having you like this?
“Come on,” you tell him, grabbing his wrist and leading him away. “We’ve gotta find them.”
But he knows that no matter where you go, he’ll follow.
Day 20 | June 20th
He lost track of how many times his body has tangled with yours. How many times you’ve quietly, desperately called out his name while he takes you to new worlds you’ve never seen before.
He yearns to be grounded, to plant his feet back on Earth, but how does he do that when the universe that is you infiltrates his very being? All the stars and planets and milky ways and meteors float around in your dazed irises, and he caresses your face.
He loves you. He wants to tell you. He needs you to love him back.
Day 21 | June 21st
“Okay, this one is easy.” Donghyuck holds his hand up to reign in everyone’s excitement. “Never have I ever…kissed someone in the friend group.”
You glance at Chenle once, and he shrugs, so both of you lift your bottles. The point of this game? Get as drunk as possible. Every time someone says something you’ve done, you have to drink. Which means everyone is thoroughly surprised when every single person around the table sips from their cups.
“We’re the worst friend group,” Mark says, nearly hissing at the taste of the liquid burning down his throat. “We said ‘friends’ and turned it into an orgy.”
Heewon glares at him. “Dude.”
“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
But soon enough, six pairs of eyes are on you and Chenle, and he immediately feels his face burning.
“You two want to explain?” Hyuck asks.
“Is everyone else explaining?” Chenle quirks an eyebrow, watching as Donghyuck purses his lips.
“No explanations unless you ask more questions,” you pipe up.
Chenle hopes that’ll divert the conversation from the two of you. His hand brushes over your knee under the table, and you send him a small smile.
“Fine,” Mark says. “Never have I ever kissed my best friend.”
From the corner of his eye, he sees you grab your bottle, so he doesn’t hesitate to do the same. He takes a fairly large drink, forcing the alcohol down his throat to make this night less painful.
Chaeyoung watches the two of you closely, and the rest of the group seems hyped up on adrenaline, like they’ve caught you and him in a lie of sorts. This news can’t be that shocking to them. Or maybe they’re all pining at the idea of being right.
But they’re not—you’re not in love with Chenle. Meaning, they’d be completely wrong.
Jaemin, who’s already had a bit too much from the hour of this game you’ve already been playing, laughs as he points at Chenle.
“I’ve got one.” He nods slowly, the smirk spreading across his face as he leans on Jeno’s shoulder. “Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.”
Your gasp is only audible to Chenle and Chaeyoung, who sits on the opposite side of you. Both you and Chenle are already holding your glasses, and you look at him, silently asking him if that’s something you should admit to the group.
You’re incredibly stiff, but Chenle watches as you slowly lift your hand. Before you get far, Chaeyoung smacks the back of Jaemin’s head.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “You can’t ask them things like that!”
Your cup lands back on the table louder than you planned. Chenle analyzes you, the stiffness of your back and the way you glance down at your lap instead of the rest of the group. His instinct makes him want to pull you away from them to somewhere you’ll be more comfortable.
“Oh, come on! They were about to admit to it.” Jaemin lets out a dramatic sigh. “Did you see the hesitation? They were seconds away from finally telling us if they’ve done it.”
Your hand lands on Chenle’s thigh, and he immediately knows what that means. A switch inside of him turns, and anger bubbles in his stomach. You’re his best friend, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants to know—the last thing he’ll let happen is any of them attempting to badger you into admitting something you don’t want the rest of the group to know.
“We’re all friends, why does it matter if we know or not?” Jeno agrees. “We’ve all been waiting for them to—”
“Knock it off,” Chenle deadpans, his voice dropping octaves. He leans forward, his arm crossing over you and his other hand gripping his bottle tighter. At the change in tone, everyone looks at him in shock, excitement fading into a nervous energy.
“Lighten up,” Donghyuck says. “They’re just joking—”
“Well, I’m not,” he replies, furrowing his eyebrows. “The hell’s wrong with you guys? You can’t tell when you’re making someone uncomfortable? Neither of us owe you anything, if you didn’t know that. You don’t need to know everything.”
“Okay,” Jaemin mumbles. “Didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”
“That’s because you don’t think, Jaemin. If anything happens between us that we want to share, we’ll share. But until then, mind your fucking business—”
“Lele,” you mutter to him, reaching forward to grasp his wrist in front of you. “Lele, it’s okay. They get it.”
He instantly relaxes at your words, running his tongue over his teeth as he rests back in his seat. You grasp his hand beneath the table and intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb against his skin.
“Sorry, (Y/N),” Jaemin says, fidgeting with his hands.
You give him an awkward smile and a nod. Chenle senses the atmosphere won’t return to the chaotic laughter it’d recently been filled with, so he wonders what’ll happen if he lets everyone know he’s taking you to bed.
When everyone resumes as much conversation as they can, Chenle leans in close to you to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go to bed?”
It’s well past midnight, and the alcohol is starting to settle in his system. He is tired. You run your fingers through your hair and nod. He doesn’t say anything to the rest of the group, but you mutter something to Chaeyoung, who gives you a sympathetic smile and a nod.
Although he refrains from physically leading you away, he feels everyone’s eyes on the two of you. It shouldn’t upset him as much as it does. Plus, he wouldn’t mind all that much if they knew, but seeing the way it bothered you suddenly had him on ten. There was no other solution other than to put them all in their place.
Once you’re in the confines of his room, he pulls you into a hug. You melt in his embrace, your body basically limp. He rubs up and down your back, wishing he could take that feeling away from you for good. You deserve the best, and he wants to give it to you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know why they’d fucking do that.”
You shake your head. “They’d know eventually, right? We wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret forever.”
“They should never push something like that. They’re supposed to be our friends, (Y/N). You were uncomfortable.”
“Le,” you say, pulling back to look at him. “As much as I appreciated you standing up for me, all I want right now is my best friend, okay? Just…be that guy, please.”
Both of you change into your pajamas, and then climb into bed. If you wanted him to be your best friend, he could do that. Hell, he’s spent his whole life basically doing it, so as he pulls you to his chest, it’s like muscle memory.
Everywhere Chenle is, you’re right there next to him. Never behind, never ahead, always beside.
“Chenle,” you whisper.
“Yeah, Sunshine?” He strokes your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“I…Can you be my best friend and still kiss me?” you ask. “I don’t want anything else. Just kissing.”
He lifts your chin so you’re looking at him and gives you the faintest smile. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
Your eyes swim with all sorts of emotions, and while he’d love to sit there and analyze each one of them, you allow them to flutter shut in anticipation of his kiss.
He can’t recall a time where he’s kissed you so gently, as if you might shatter beneath his touch. Placing his hand on the small of your back, he presses you flush against him while his mouth works so effortlessly on yours.
There’s no heat behind it. The only sounds are of the rustling of his sheets, the soft sighs, and his quiet compliments between breathing breaks. He allows himself to get lost in this, in the way it feels so different from every other kiss he’s shared with you.
Those kisses all lead to sex. They were a bridge to being physical, but now all he wants is to lie in this bed with you forever, connected in such a basic and innocent way.
“You make all of it better,” you murmur, inhaling deeply. “Everything I am is for you, Zhong Chenle.”
“And you’ve built me from the ground up,” he replies. “I was created for you. I don’t know who I am without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
His heart runs rampant, doing all sorts of backflips in his chest. He starts to sweat even though he’s not physically exerting himself, and he desperately feels like he needs to grasp at something. If he doesn’t, he’ll fall…but can he even more than he already has?
Is falling in love something that happens gradually, continually, or is it all at once? Once you’ve fallen in love, can you still progress further into it, or is that feeling at its peak?
He thinks back to the first time he realized he wanted more from you. It’s been over a year since he admitted it to himself, and the person he was during that time never would believe that this is his life now.
“You promise?” Chenle’s nearly breathless, your words robbing him of the oxygen he needs to survive.
You smile ever so softly, nodding slowly. “I’m yours. Always.”
The promise sinks through his skin and into his bloodstream, flowing all the way through his body and infiltrating his brain. It means so much more to him than it means to you, he knows that, but he kisses you again anyway.
He kisses you over and over and over again. By the time the sun comes up in the morning, neither of you have slept, but your lips are swollen and your eyes are drooping.
No matter what, he’ll hold you to your word.
Day 22 | June 22nd
Two coffee cups steam from the table on Chenle’s patio. He sits, slumped, on the padded bench with you next to him, legs thrown over his lap. His thumb rubs your thigh. Exhaustion has yet to kick in, especially as he looks at you. Your hair is mussed, his T-shirt hanging off your shoulder and your shorts hiking up your thighs. Everything about this is domestic, and it makes his heart flutter.
He stayed up all night with you. The sunrise over the water leaves a calming wave cascading over him, and he gets an odd feeling that it’s all going to be okay.
He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.
You bring the coffee cup up to your lips, sighing at the taste. He made it for you. But not only that, he made it the way you’ve always loved it. You told him once, and he never forgot. Every detail he learns about you is immediately stored in his memory.
“Maybe we should tell them,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. “That way, they’ll leave us alone. And whatever we’re doing would get a little easier.”
“Would it?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“None of this is easy.” Chenle gulps, wishing he had the filter necessary to make him bite his tongue right now. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. We don’t even know what it is, so why would we try to explain it to other people?”
“Oh.” You drink more, tired gaze turning to the ocean in the distance.
“It’s not a bad thing. I’m just being honest.”
“Yeah, no, honesty is good,” you agree. “You’re right.”
“(Y/N), I—”
“No.” You hold up your hand. “We said the end of the summer, so I get it. I’d rather wait anyway.”
He wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, telling you all the things he loves about you and how badly he wants you to be his forever.
“I’m gonna need six more cups of coffee.” You swing your legs off of him, and leave him sitting by himself, caught up in the warm, summer breeze the same way he’s caught up in you.
Day 25 | June 25th
Going out to the bar was the worst idea ever. The more you drank, the more you wanted to be all over Chenle. He didn’t mind it, but the more he drank, the more he wanted to touch you in ways that would have every saint covering their eyes.
You turn to face him, flashing lights reflecting off your skin as you dance with him. His brain is so clouded, so foggy, but he remembers you kissing him. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you closer and doing his best to maintain a rhythm with you. For a moment, he forgets that all of your friends are here too, but he has high hopes they’ll be too drunk to recall.
You pull away, jaw dropped as you remove his grasp on your and quickly stumble toward the exit. He curses under his breath, knowing he can’t let you go alone in a state like this. The world is tilting around him as he follows you, but he refuses to let you out of his sight. The protective urges come forward.
“(Y/N)!” he calls out to you as the two of you make it outside. “Hey! Stop it.”
“Leave me alone, Chenle.” The thickness of your voice has every last bit of alcohol drying up from his system. He jogs to catch up to you, grabbing your wrist and whirling you around to look at him.
Your eyes are bloodshot, tears falling down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” he whispers, tugging you to his chest. “God, are you okay?”
“‘M fine,” you reply, but your body shudders in his grasp.
“Come on.” He scoffs. “I didn’t stop being your best friend just because we’re sleeping together.”
You put your palm on your forehead, cursing under your breath. “I just kissed you in there. In front of everyone.”
“Yeah.” Chenle shrugs. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It was supposed to be simple,” you murmur, tugging on your hair with your fingers. “We were supposed to have fun this summer, and everything’s fucking falling apart—”
He recoils. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re gonna leave me.” Your voice breaks, and his heart right along with it.
“Why would you say something like that?”
“It’s all just—” you cut yourself off, clutching Chenle’s shirt. “Too much. I want you so fucking bad all the time.”
“Me too, baby, you know that.” He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I’ll always be right next to you. Promise, Sunshine.”
His own eyes well at the sight, but he wonders what really brought all of this on. He presses his lips to your forehead, allowing them to linger there a moment too long. Pulling you close, his gaze turns toward the building, where Jaemin and Heewon stand. He gives them the best, watery glare he can, and they quickly shuffle back inside.
It’ll never be him who leaves you. If anyone were going to run away, it will absolutely be you.
And that crushes his heart even further. Beats it to a tiny pulp and straight up purees it until it’s mush.
He takes you home, puts you in bed, and spends half the night out on his patio, leaning on the wooden railing and watching the waves crash into the midnight shore.
The view from here gives him a glimpse of the driveway, and the rest of the group pulls in not even an hour later. He makes eye contact with Jaemin, and while the others head inside, Jaemin approaches him with his hands in his pockets.
“Hey,” Jaemin says softly. “You got a few minutes?”
Chenle looks inside at your sleeping form and gently closes the door with a sigh. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
“Look, man, we all get it.” Jaemin’s feet thud quietly on the creaky stairs as he makes his way up, stopping and leaning his back against the railing as he analyzes Chenle. “We love you guys. A lot. And something weird has been going on, and it’s not like we don’t notice.”
“A lot of weird has been going on,” Chenle says, chuckling to himself. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s just us now.”
The other man purses his lips, taking a deep breath of salty air. “You love her, don’t you?”
“I wish it were as simple as that.” He clasps his hands together, wondering how much he should say.
“It can be,” Jaemin replies. “You think she doesn’t love you?”
“I know she doesn’t,” he insists. “You don’t know her like I do.”
His friend nods, as if he’s conceding with what Chenle’s saying. But he knows better—Jaemin is good at these things. Regardless of whatever happened a few nights back, Jaemin is insightful when it comes to relationships despite not having much experience in that department.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, okay? But I know something is. And I notice (Y/N) talking to Chae a lot, but you never talk to anyone about serious things except for her. It’s okay to be confused and to want to talk about things.”
“She didn’t want anyone to know.” Chenle lets out a defeated sigh, allowing his head to hang between his shoulders.
“To know what?”
“We…” Chenle considers biting his tongue. At the end of the day, he knows he can trust Jaemin, and that he’d never do anything to betray Chenle’s trust, but the words leaving his mouth feel like a betrayal to you. “We’ve been hooking up, I guess.”
“Oh, like…more than once.” Jaemin blinks his shock away.
“Yeah. Like, the whole summer so far.” He runs his hands down his face. “We’d never done anything before, and I honestly didn’t think it would be a possibility. And then we did. And it was fast and not at all what I wanted it to be and just—sorry, Jaem.”
“No, no.” He gestures for him to continue. “Let it out. It’s good for you to process these things.”
“I thought I really fucked up by doing that, you know? She didn’t stay in my room with me that night, she didn’t even talk to me until the next day. Which maybe doesn’t seem bad, but it is for us. But then she said she wanted to do it again, and I…well, I obviously didn’t say no. Maybe I should have.” He picks at his nails, fighting hard with the lump lodged in his throat.
“Honestly, I’m having trouble figuring out why you won’t tell her how you feel.”
“If I tell her and lose her because of it, I genuinely don’t know how I’d live without her. She’s been in my life forever, Jaem. It’s not her fault I can’t keep myself in check,” he says.
“If she doesn’t realize you’re in love with her, she’s really fucking dense.” Jaemin chuckles to himself. “And you’re equally as dense for thinking that she doesn’t love you.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is.”
“How?”
“Chenle, you’ve spent every day with her this summer. And I’m not going to pretend to know your business, but I’m sure all the alone time you’ve had hasn’t been innocent. Nobody in their right mind starts sleeping with their best friend without at least a little bit of a worry that they’ll fall in love. Come on, you two are practically dating already anyway.”
“It’s hard, okay?” Chenle brushes the other man off. “We said we’d talk about it at the end of the summer, so I’m gonna save my heart for a few more days.”
“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” Jaemin taps the railing once more before he starts his descent down the stairs. “You won’t get what you want if you’re sitting around and watching it pass you by.”
Day 26 | June 26th
He told himself he would hold off on any more physical stuff before he was able to talk to you about what happened last night, but that was…apparently…short lived. Your chest presses against his, both of you on your sides as he gently massages your ass. You made it a point this morning to grind back against him until he was hard and aching. He’s not entirely sure how he’s avoided exactly this for so long.
He pulls your leg up on his waist, stretching you as he rubs his cock against your folds. You moan into his mouth as your slickness coats him, signaling to him that you’re more than ready to take everything he has to offer.
After a few moments of shifting, his tip enters you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts the head of his cock in and out. Chills already break out along his body, his palms sweaty as he teases you.
“Please,” you whimper. “I need more.”
“Greedy girl,” he scolds you, slowly pushing all the way in. “Pretty baby just wants to be full, huh?”
“Only you,” you mumble, nearly incoherently as you try to rock your hips. “Only greedy for you.”
Under normal circumstances, he’d care about the sound of the bed squeaking, or the way the headboard taps the wall with each of his thrusts, but all he’s thinking about is fucking good this position allows him to feel you.
After fucking you raw, the condom almost hinders the feeling of you clenching around him, but he tries to focus on giving you as much pleasure as he can.
“C’mon, tell me what you want.” Chenle bucks his hips hard, making you whine.
“Touch me. Wanna cum.” Your head lolls forward, forehead smacking into his chest.
“Touch you where, baby?” He pushes you further. “You’re already soaking my cock, what else could you need?”
“Lele, please—”
“I’ll stop,” he warns you. “Neither of us will finish if you don’t use your words.”
Dazed, you let out a frustrated moan, and he smirks at you.
“M-my clit,” you whisper. “Please touch me there.”
Your arousal squelches around him with each of his thrusts, and you squirm as you yearn for your orgasm that’s just out of reach. He considers teasing you more, but you look so fucking good like this, walls pulsing and begging for release, he can’t deny you.
His hand snakes down your body, and he kisses your jawline. “Don’t cum ‘til I say you can, okay? I’d hate to punish you when you’ve done so well so far.”
“If y—fuck.” You cut yourself off when his finger comes in contact with your swollen, aching bud, and your nails scratch down his back. He knows you won’t be able to hold back if he touches you in the right way.
“You gotta wait for me, baby, I’m almost there.” He thrusts harder, the creak of the bed becoming more prominent as he continues barely rubbing your clit.
“Lele.” You clench your eyes shut. “I c-can’t, oh my God.”
“But you’re so good.” He slams his hips against yours. “So fucking good, just a little longer.”
Your entire body shakes. He didn’t think he’d ever find something like this so arousing, but when you look at him and your eyes are welled with tears from your need, he curses, thrusts one more time, and cums hard into the condom when he’s buried deep inside you.
He can’t remember the last time he came this much, and he wishes he didn’t have this stupid fucking piece of rubber on. The idea of painting your insides white has him thrusting through his overstimulation to bring you to your peak.
He applies more pressure to your clit, pinching it, rubbing it until you bite down on his shoulder hard as your walls and body convulse in his grasp. Cursing at the jolt of pain he feels, he moans when he realizes how it adds to his pleasure.
“Holy shit,” he whispers as you let go of him.
“Asshole.” You laugh, attempting to catch your breath.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, scratching up and down your back. “It felt like you liked it.”
“Yeah, I hope that bite mark scars permanently.”
“Laying claim on me, are you?”
Oh, how he wishes you would.
Day 28 | June 28th
Today is arguably Chenle’s favorite day of the summer. Ironic, since it’s the second to last full day he has with all of his friends, but the tradition set is what makes him think this way.
A bonfire crackles in front of him, his arm over your shoulder as everyone stands around the climbing orange flame. The goal is each person writes all of their regrets down from the past year, and what they hope to accomplish over the next, and then they burn it. It’s an odd positivity ritual that none of them have ever skipped.
Chenle wrote his down the night before after you fell asleep.
Regrets:
I regret not telling (Y/N) I love her. Again.
I regret not seizing every opportunity that presents itself to me.
I regret wasting my life away while everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of my eyes.
I regret shutting down and allowing my friends to help me.
I regret not advancing in my chosen career path.
Hopes:
I hope I will be able to express myself thoroughly.
I hope I will be able to tell (Y/N) my feelings.
I hope those feelings will be reciprocated.
I hope, above all, that she’s happy.
He glances around, taking a look at everyone around him. Jaemin, Jeno, Heewon, Donghyuck, Mark, Chaeyoung, and even you. Each person has had such a fundamental hand in the making of the person he is today, and a lot of times, he takes that for granted.
“Okay, who wants to go first?” Mark asks.
“I will,” you say, stepping up.
Chenle watches you with adoration, wishing he could move forward with you, but knowing there are some times where you have to shine on your own.
“Another year.” You clear your throat. “All of you mean the world to me. You helped me when I was twelve and in desperate need of a confidence boost, and you help me now at twenty-three when sometimes all I need is a drink and a cookie.”
A chorus of laughter falls from everyone.
“Mark, thank you for all of the midday pep-talks and reality checks. Jeno, thank you for being the comedic relief right when I always need it. Jaemin, thank you for always knowing what to say, no matter the situation. Chae, thank you for saving me from myself more times than I can count. Hyuck, thank you for knowing exactly when I want ice cream and a rant session. Heewon, thank you for never judging me despite my shit decisions.”
You turn back to Chenle, the gleam in your eye reflecting the billions of stars from the sky above.
“Chenle, thank you for never underestimating me and for knowing me better than I know myself. For all of the years we’ve had, and all the ones we will have.”
“You’ve got all of mine,” Chenle says to you.
With a final grin, you take your folded up piece of paper out of your pocket and toss it into the fire, and everyone watches as it burns to ash. Once you’re satisfied, you move back to Chenle and hug him tightly.
He deflates in your grasp, cradling the back of your head and relishing in the weight of your words.
Mark goes next, then Hyuck, Chae, Heewon, Jaemin, and Jeno, leaving Chenle to be the last one. He purses his lips, twirling his own note in his fingers as he glances over his shoulder at you.
It takes him a while to think of what he wants to say despite the fact he’s been looking forward to this since the vacation started. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smokiness of the air mixed with ocean salt, and really, truly thinks of how he’s made it as far as he has.
“Well, guys, another year down.” He shakes his head as he thinks of how fast time passes. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you guys. We get busy throughout the year, but I’m really happy we get to spend this time here and that we’re able to be together this entire month. Everyone has their unique roles in this friend group, and it’d be incredibly off if any one of us weren’t here. So, my thank you is for all of you, for being there for me and making this little bunch into a family. ‘Cause that’s what you guys are. You’re my family.”
He glances back at you much like you had done to him, and he’s met with your dazzling smile. His nerves calm at the sight, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tosses his paper into the flame.
It’s like he physically feels the hurt, regret, and carelessness from the past year lift off his shoulders, intertwine with the smoke, and disappear. He feels lighter, like he can take on the world. And in this moment, when he sees you staring at him with such adoration, he knows that now is the moment.
No time will ever be the right time, and he’ll never have courage if he doesn’t push himself.
He walks back to you, hands in his pockets. “(Y/N), can I talk to you over there for a minute?”
You nod, and as he guides you a safe distance away, he meets Jaemin’s gaze. The grin of approval is all he needs, and the other man makes sure the friend group is paying attention to him instead of you and Chenle.
“What’s up?” you ask, tilting your head. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” He pauses and reaches over to grab your hand. “I just…One of my regrets last year was not having courage, and not being able to ask for the things I want because I wasn’t…ready for them, I guess.”
You nod, urging him to continue.
“You’re my best friend. All of this stuff we’ve been through this summer, I need you to know that’ll never change no matter what. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d be screwed.” He chuckles, the nerves gnawing away at his throat and making his voice shake. “This has been the best month of my life, honestly, but I shouldn’t have gone into something like this without being completely transparent.”
To that, you frown, but wait for him to continue.
He takes a moment to work up the strength to tell you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His hands shake, and he feels faint, but he knows it’s now or never. He can’t let you leave this place for another year without knowing the truth.
“I…I’m in love with you. And I have been for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin this. When all of this started, I wanted to tell you no because I thought I’d end up getting hurt because of it all. And maybe I still will, but at least now you’ll know the truth.”
He’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t you starting to laugh. His gaze darts back up to yours, and your head is in your hands.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “If that’s not what you wanted, we can still be—”
“Zhong Chenle, you are far too dense for your own good.” You beam at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss.
He’s in shock at first, but after a second, he’s pulling you as close to him as possible. You swallow his sigh of relief, and when he moves back, he sees the tear streaks down your face.
“Hey, none of that,” he whispers, wiping them away.
“I love you, Chenle,” you tell him. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so fucking long—”
You cut yourself off by connecting your lips to his again, giggles interrupting you every so often.
The rest of the group cheers and yells by the fire, clearly not one of them surprised by this outcome. He leads you back to them, fingers interlocked tightly and a permanent smile etched on his face.
For the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you go. He holds you close, kisses you all over your face, and squeezes you.
He loves you.
He’s in love with you, and you’re not going anywhere.
If this is the cruelest summer he ever has to endure, he’s more than ready for the rest of them.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct imagines#nct dream smut#nct scenarios#chenle smut#chenle fluff#chenle angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#nct smut#nct fluff#nct angst#chenle x reader#chenle imagine#chenle imagines
397 notes
·
View notes
Text
this night together - chapter eight (j.yh + s.mg)
chapter eight: just what friends are for
chapter summary: a new set of friends help you through heat and this time it just works like clockwork
warnings: this is a full smut-a-thon. specific tags for: heat, knotting, and other a/b/o dynamics, gratituous use of 'alpha' and 'omega', fingering, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), use of sex toys / dildos, frank conversations about sex and heat, praise praise praise, light degradation, alpha on alpha action which means m/m pairing here, not just them helping reader, so much cum including the artificial kind.....
notes: thank you all so much for your patience!! next chapter is in progress, but tbd on post date.
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader for the core fic overall, but this chapter is alpha!seonghwa x alpha!san x omega!wooyoung x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 16.8k
previous chapter | next chapter | AO3
Unlike your last heat, this time you sleep through the night. Despite the ache in your hips and the hot flashes that leave you kicking off your covers, you stay deep in sleep with the comforting scent of another omega near you. You don’t start to wake properly until morning, with the sun peeking through the gaps in the curtains.
For a moment, just a sliver of a second, you forget where you are. A little jolt running up your spine as you feel a warm body underneath you, but then you see his tan skin and mop of black hair and remember you’re with Wooyoung and you’re safe. You let yourself relax again, cheek once again on his shoulder and you take a deep, steady breath. The warm summer sun washes through you at his scent, and your busy mind seems to quiet back down. He’s still sleeping, head turned to the side away from you and mouth open, the room silent except for the tiny little catches in the back of his throat that indicate he’s still deep in sleep.
At some point in the night your bodies became further tangled up together, that’s the first thing you really notice. You’re almost entirely on top of him, lounging across him like he’s a body pillow, with one leg hitched over his thigh and your face buried in his chest. The second thing you notice is how tight your stomach is and how hard your nipples feel pressed up against the rough fabric of your shirt.
Wooyoung groans a little, stretching under you as he stretches into his morning, and you’re doing just fine until his leg shifts and suddenly you’re pressed firmly against his thigh.
It’s almost embarrassing how apparent the wet patch in your underwear is, just the sensation of something warm pressing up against your slick core leaving your body responding in seconds. Your nipples harden further and your back aches a little, but you stay as still as you can and exhale softly, trying to disguise how shaky and needy you feel in your gut.
Wooyoung grumbles something, his head tossing to the opposite side, and you feel his arm close over your back, “Hey, cuddle bug,”
It cuts the tension immediately, and you laugh against his chest, “Sorry, I know I kind of attached in the night,”
“It’s fine,” His hand smooths up and down over your back and you press your eyes closed to ignore the throbbing you’re starting to feel. He yawns above you, “It’s good you slept,”
“Mhm,” You nod against his chest.
“Are you feeling okay?” He checks.
“Very, very comfortable,” You tell him, and that’s partially true.
“It’s the nest,” He yawns again, “I swear my heats are like ten times better here,”
“I think it’s more you,”
“Nah,” Wooyoung ruffles your hair, “it’s the bamboo cooling sheets, I know all the tricks,”
He makes you laugh softly again, but this time he shifts under you completely to adjust his position underneath you and when he brings his leg up, pushing his thigh against your core harder, your fingers tighten on his arms and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes from your lips.
He freezes entirely, the room quiet.
“S-sorry,” You exhale tightly, starting to push yourself up from your nestled place on his chest so you can try and find his eyes and see how uncomfortable this is about to be.
“Why didn’t you say?” His hands slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your lower back.
“Let me,” As much as you don’t want to, you start to push your body up and away from him, but he catches you in his arms and brings you back down to his chest, “Woo,”
“Do you like kissing?” He asks out of nowhere, his hand pushing into your hair and guiding your gaze to his.
“What?” You blink.
“You’re so tense,” He studies your face, applying a little pressure where he holds you to guide you back down into a fully comfortable position, “it’s just me,”
“But,” You say, words falling flat. You don’t have a reason why or an explanation, it’s just that his hands on you like this is so unexpected. You called Seonghwa, you expected Seonghwa, Wooyoung nestled between your thighs is a wild card.
“Shh,” He soothes you, hand splaying wide on your skin, “relax, babe, it’s only me,”
You can barely move, your stomach clenching painfully and your clit all but throbbing against him. You’ve never had sex with another omega, certainly not in heat, but something about his scent and his comforting tone and his hot thigh against your cunt is making the idea of a knot fade from your mind.
“You really are so pretty,” He smiles, his opposite hand shifting lower to slip under the elastic of your sleep pants, “and you smell so delicious,”
“Y-Yeah?”
His hand bypasses the hem of your underwear too and he cups your ass, “Like something sugary,”
“Honey,” You murmur, the briefest flash of Mingi’s mouth on your throat in your mind’s eye.
“That’s it,” Wooyoung nods, his voice a soft murmur when he says, “do you taste like honey too?”
You sigh, hazy feeling against him, warmth in your cheeks.
“Can I kiss you? Or would that be too weird?” Wooyoung slowly drags you up a little so he can reach your mouth a little better in his reclined position, but he doesn’t move to lock his lips to yours.
It sounds like it should be weird, especially given how well things turned out between you and Yunho and Mingi, but something about Wooyoung just deflates all the pressure in the room and you’ve never felt more comfortable.
You nod, and he gathers you close so that you’re laying fully over him.
“Did you sleep well?” He murmurs softly, nuzzling your nose with his and pressing the briefest, featherlight kiss to your lips.
“Yeah,” You breathe, your eyes slipping closed as he nuzzles you again.
“You seem good too,” He comments, letting his lips travel along your jaw until he finds your earlobe and gives it a gentle tug with his teeth.
Your body twitches in response and you nod against his head.
“Not in pain?” He checks, his hand once again slipping inside your sleep pants to cup your bare backside.
“N-not right now,” You murmur.
“Good,” His lips press against yours, a little longer this time. His lips are so warm, and he alternates between steady kisses and nuzzles, just getting you used to the feeling of his mouth on yours.
All the while, your body melts down, muscles relaxing one by one.
Wooyoung sighs warmly against you, his next kiss a little more open, coaxing your mouth to follow. Your stomach erupts in needy little butterflies, and then his tongue is in your mouth.
“Oh,” You sigh pleasantly and he wraps his arms tighter around you.
“You feel so good,” He groans, his hands searching your skin under your clothes.
“S-so do you,” You stammer, your words whispered in the barely there space between you.
The air is starting to feel thicker around you, warm and hazy, but your body shivers like there’s a chill in the room and you know it’s your heat running you hot and cold. Wooyoung reaches for the comforter, pulling it up and over the two of you so that you’re wrapped tighter in the building warmth. Your hips buck softly as he nips your lip and he nods.
“Yeah?” He murmurs between kisses and caresses, “How do you feel?”
Your brain is feeling buzzy and hot and you smile against his mouth, “Fucking horny,”
He laughs, cupping your cheek as he kisses you again, this time deeper and laden with so much innuendo you think you might just come on the spot.
You moan into his mouth, and slowly he raises his knee and plants his foot, effectively angling his thigh perfectly right between yours so that you’re straddling him tightly, every rock of your bodies just forcing your cunt closer to him.
“Come on,” He urges you softly, pressing his hand into your hip and coaxing you into it.
You follow this press of his hands and push your hips forwards, moaning into him immediately. “Fuck,” You pant against his cheek.
“Yeah?” He chuckles, dragging your hips back and forth again, coaxing you into a rhythm.
You nod, lips falling away from his as you collapse over him, eyes slipping closed as you bury your face into the side of his neck. He smells heavenly, and you let that sensation wrap around you as you continue canting your hips and dragging yourself back and forth across his thigh. You can feel the heat radiating off him even through the layers of fabric between you, his sleep pants, yours, and your panties, and you’re sure that you’re soaking through them with every grind of your hips.
Your head is getting cottony as pleasure starts arcing up your spine, and you feel Wooyoung hold you closer, his lips against your ear. You hear something squeak behind you, and feel the air in the room change, but you don’t stop, you just keep rolling your hips and finding solace in his arms.
Wooyoung murmurs something, but you don’t quite catch it and you make a soft noise to get him to repeat himself but he doesn’t. The comforter moves from its position draped over you, and the bed shifts. Your hips stop and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’re not alone in the room anymore. The comforter still covers both of you from the waist down, but anyone could surely tell what you and Wooyoung were doing.
“Morning,” Seonghwa’s warm, low alpha tone sends a shiver up your spine.
“Hey,” Wooyoung keeps his voice quiet too, his fingers tracing up and down your back.
“Everything okay in here?” Seonghwa asks.
“Mhm,” Wooyoung’s hand slips out of your sleep pants and rests casually on your hip, “we just woke up,”
“Did she sleep through the night?” He sounds a little surprised.
“Mhm,” Wooyoung replies.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Seonghwa’s voice is soothing, and you sigh when his hand smooths over your hair, “I heard you rustling around and wanted to make sure you weren’t in any pain,”
“I’m okay,” You assure him, your eyes already getting heavy at the feeling of them both touching you.
Wooyoung’s thigh tenses between yours and you let out a little shuddering breath.
“You don’t sound very okay,” Seonghwa murmurs, and your body responds to his tone in a second with a rush of morning slick. Wooyoung chuckles under you at the growing wet patch on his sweats.
“Don’t laugh,” You slap his chest lightly, “I’m in heat, I can’t help it,”
“What’s funny?” Seonghwa asks, a smile in his voice.
“Oh, nothing,” You can practically see the grin on his face, “just one second of you playing sexy concerned alpha and she’s slicking all over me,”
“Woo!” You press your eyes closed, blush lighting up your neck and cheeks.
“Don’t tease her like that,” Seonghwa tuts, “that’s not nice,”
“Maybe she likes not nice,” Wooyoung smirks.
“Will you two stop that,” You groan, and it feels like even though you’re not getting any friction, the pressure against your clit alone is enough to make the bubble in your belly grow and grow, “I was so close,”
You don’t mean for your voice to sound so needy, but it does.
Seonghwa’s alpha responds immediately, and even though you hear Wooyoung chuckle again, he keeps his mouth shut this time. Seonghwa shushes you, pulling back the comforter completely so he can see the way you two are tangled together and then he gets closer, “Oh, jagiya, I’m sorry, let me help,”
A soft whine leaves you as he takes you in his hands and lifts you away from Wooyoung’s chest.
“Can you take your bottoms off for me, or do you need a little help, darling?” Seonghwa’s body being so close is making your mind do little somersaults, but you still have control over yourself well enough to shift on the bed and reach for your waistband.
It’s an awkward position, poised over Wooyoung while Seonghwa holds you in his arms, but Wooyoung reaches out and helps drag your sleep pants off, catching your underwear with his thumbs to pull them away too.
“Wow,” Wooyoung breathes as your panties pull away, revealing just how slick and puffy you are.
“That better be a good wow,” You sigh, letting your head fall back onto Seonghwa’s waiting shoulder.
“Oh, it definitely is,” Wooyoung says, moving around underneath you to kick off his own sleep pants.
Seonghwa reaches around you then, his hand coming to close over your sex, and then he hums pleasantly, “What a lovely omega, you are,”
You shudder at his praise, hips pressing down to feel more of his hand, hoping that he’ll slip his fingers inside, but he simply drags his hand up and away and leaves you pulsing with desire.
“Oh, god,” You groan, “please someone do something,”
Wooyoung reaches up for you, gathering you back down and Seonghwa supports your slow descent as you get back into position over Wooyoung’s thigh. This time the sensation is instant, his hot skin under yours, and your mind instantly curls back into hazy pleasure with the first rock of your hips.
“Perfect,” Seonghwa hums, “look at you two,”
Wooyoung drags your hips along, but laughs sharply at Seonghwa, “Relax, alpha,” he punctuates the word with his tone, “I know this is like, your wet dream, but listen to her… she needs to come,”
You do, you really, really do. You don’t know what will get you there, but so far you’re dancing on the edge of your pleasure but unable to fully grasp it. Wooyoung feels hot and perfect beneath you, and Seonghwa is saying all the right things to delight the primal part of your brain, but every time you feel close to the edge you fall away from it.
Frustrated tears gather in your eyes and you bite down on your cheek to keep from crying out in equal irritation at yourself and your body.
“Hush,” Seonghwa soothes you, his hands sweeping up and down your bare back, “we’re right here, darling,”
“I can’t,” You work your hips faster against Wooyoung’s thigh, “I’m so…”
“Tell us what you need, babe,” Wooyoung’s hand dips under your shirt, finding your breast and softly teasing your nipple.
You moan sharply as pleasure bubbles through you, not quite there but close, “Kiss me, please, please,”
His mouth is on yours in a second, tongue against yours and everything just hot pants between you both.
Seonghwa’s hands squeeze your hips and you moan as he talks you through it, “That’s it, omega, make yourself come, fuck Youngie’s pretty thigh,”
You choke out a tight cry into Wooyoung’s mouth.
“You’re so close,” Seonghwa continues, “so wet, pretty girl,”
“Oh fuck, fuck,” You fall away from Wooyoung’s mouth, dropping your forehead to his, your hips picking up the pace just a bit, just enough to get you there.
Wooyoung groans at the sight of you, pushing your hair out of your faces and holding you against him, nodding against your sweat slick skin, “Come,”
“I’m,” You choke, “I’m…”
Seonghwa’s hands coast over you, and his next words undo you, “I can’t wait to bury myself in that sweet cunt,”
Your hips snap forward, your orgasm crashing into you like a wall and you collapse against Wooyoung as it takes you under. Seonghwa reaches his hand around your shuddering thighs and pushes his fingers between your dripping folds and Wooyoung’s slick leg, locating your clit with ease and working his hand fast back and forth to prolong your orgasm.
You squeak, eyes slamming shut, gripping down on Wooyoung’s shoulders and you’d fall to the side if it weren’t for the two of them holding you steady through the crash of pleasure.
“That’s it, that’s it,” Seonghwa hums.
“Oh my god, oh, yes babe,” Wooyoung peppers kisses over your face as your shakes start to transform into little trembling rushes, “mm, I bet that felt so good, didn’t it?”
You’re nodding, just now coming to the realization that Seonghwa’s hands aren’t between your thighs anymore, you’ve just been dragging your throbbing clit back and forth lazily over Wooyoung’s leg until you’re sated. Your body slows, now just trembling in the afterglow. They’re touching you still, just softly, a lazy bit of aftercare in the morning sun and you sigh across Wooyoung’s chest.
“Good morning,” Seonghwa chuckles.
“It is a good morning,” You grin, your head feeling decidedly less foggy after the orgasm and you hide your face in Wooyoung’s chest for a second as you laugh.
“So ridiculous,” Wooyoung kisses your shoulder and laughs with you, his leg sliding to straighten and effectively dropping you down closer to the bed.
With a sigh you roll off him and cover your face with your hands, “That was so nice,”
“You might not even need me,” Seonghwa hums, a little playful pout in his voice as he prods your hip.
You drop your hands instantly and reach for him, “Mm, Hwa don’t be jealous, I literally woke up on top of him,”
“Like a clingy space heater,” Wooyoung jokes and you slap his arm.
Seonghwa smiles, easing himself down next to you both and propping his head up on one hand, “Feeling alright?”
“I’m so good now,” You confess.
Wooyoung chuckles and snuggles up to your back, tucking you into him again and taking his hand to tangle your fingers together.
“Mm,” Seonghwa sighs, brushing Wooyoung’s hair back from his cheek as he looks down at you both, “this really is such a nice surprise,”
“Mhm,”
“I think we should get you a nice big breakfast,” Seonghwa smiles, “are you hungry?”
“A little,”
Wooyoung’s hand slips out of yours and dips under your oversized shirt, closing over your belly, “Hungry for food?”
“Shush,” You elbow him.
“I don’t know,” He nuzzles you, “you seemed pretty insatiable this morning,”
Blush flushes your cheeks.
“Maybe you need more,” He nips at your ear and you gasp.
Reason floods your mind though, and you shake your head, “Woo, no,”
He stills immediately and angles up to look at you, “What’s up?”
“Can we just talk first? Before this gets messy?” You ask, “Well, messier,”
His hands are off you in any suggestive way a moment later, and Seonghwa slides off the bed to locate your sleep pants and pass them over to you, “Let’s go make breakfast together and talk,”
“Okay, good, yes,” You pull on your sleep pants and ease yourself off the bed, Seonghwa’s hand sliding to your arm like a magnet.
“What are you in the mood for?” Wooyoung pulls open the door to the bedroom, injecting the nest with a cold flush of air and you shiver at the way the feeling of the room changes when you’re not holed up in a mix of their scents.
“Do you have any fruit?” You ask him, “something light?”
He nods, “Hwa, can I take care of the food this time?”
“Sure,” He steps closer to your back, hands not quite holding you, but resting on you in whatever way he can.
Wooyoung disappears into the kitchen, pulling out various ingredients from the fridge and a cutting board from the cupboard. You notice immediately that he’s quick with a knife, easily dicing up the food, and it’s a little mesmerizing to watch the way he works. Seonghwa watches too, a fond smile on his lips.
“So,” Seonghwa finally says, turning towards you, “what’s on your mind?”
You ease back onto the living room sofa and tuck your legs in, “I just feel like we’re supposed to talk about this,”
“It’s a good idea,” Wooyoung assures you, dropping off a plate of expertly cut fruit and glasses of ice water.
“Mm,” Seonghwa nods, popping a strawberry in his mouth, “we’ve been doing this for so long together I think we forget a bit how familiar we already are,”
“How long has it been?” You reach for the plate of fruit but Seonghwa pushes your hands away with a soft sound.
You watch as he piles a plate high with an assortment for you, “Two years? Three?”
“Three,” Wooyoung says from the kitchen, “y/n, do you want any coffee?”
You shake your head, “Not this morning, thank you,”
“What about you?” Seonghwa prompts.
“My heats?” You clarify.
“Mhm,” He turns towards you fully, listening and attentive, “what about you?”
Wooyoung takes the seat on the sofa across from you and drops a coffee in front of Seonghwa.
“Outside of Yunho and Mingi, I’ve never really done the whole casual heat sex thing,” You explain, “I was never very comfortable with it,”
“I get that,” Wooyoung nods, taking a bite of melon, “it’s hard to know who to trust,”
“All the time,” You agree with ease.
Seonghwa frowns, “I wish it weren’t that way,”
“I know,” Wooyoung shrugs, “but not all alphas are as nice as you and Sannie, that’s just the truth,”
A shiver runs up your back, you know that all too well and so does Wooyoung. Sometimes not as nice just means pretty words at night and a cold bed in the morning, but sometimes not as nice means so much more. You wonder how many shared experiences you and Wooyoung have had over the course of your lives as omegas.
Seonghwa’s jaw jumps tightly, his hand on the table pressing into a loose fist and you can feel the tense stress of him at the idea.
“I hope,” Seonghwa swallows and then looks to you, “that at least San and I have never made you feel uncomfortable,”
“Never,” You answer fast.
“And everyone else at the office is,” He trails off, looking to Wooyoung for a little help, “that’s not a problem at work is it?”
Wooyoung shakes his head and keeps eating, treating this whole sudden twist of the conversation so casually, “I get looks sometimes, you know, but no it’s not a problem,”
“Agreed,” You take a bite of your breakfast too, “looks I can deal with,”
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” You shake your head, “but this is why I haven’t really gotten out much. Honestly, I hope you know that it means a lot to me that I felt comfortable enough to call you. Think about that, not the bad stuff,”
“She’s right,” Wooyoung sips his coffee, “but you know the other thing that just sucks but is true?”
“Hmm?” You pull your eyes away from Seonghwa to look at him.
“Alphas will just leave you alone when they know you’re even rumored to be with another alpha,” Wooyoung says, “I haven’t had to deal with any shit in so long and that’s all Sannie and you,”
“I hate that,” Seonghwa grumbles.
“It’s true though,” You shrug, and then a thought occurs to you, “wait,”
They do, glancing between each other as you gather your thoughts.
“Could you tell I had been with Yunho and Mingi?” You ask, a little afraid of the answer, “if I hadn't told you, would you have known anyways?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Seonghwa says, “I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I couldn’t tell until we were close together during dance practice, and even then it wasn’t like I caught a specific person’s scent, we were never close enough for that. It was more just the feeling that you weren’t…. unscented?”
“Mm,” You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking it through.
“Relax,” Wooyoung squeezes your hand, “stressing about things you can’t control isn’t going to make your heat any easier,”
“I can’t help it,”
“Here,” Seonghwa pushes back his chair and reaches for you, “come sit with me a second, I can feel you worrying from here,”
You shift over from your chair and follow the guidance of his hands until you’re settled in his lap. It should feel awkward, but it doesn’t and you don’t really spend any time worrying about that now that you’re wrapped up in an alpha’s warm arms.
“Now,” Seonghwa’s hand strokes your thigh slowly, “we’re all friends here, right?”
“Yes?” You twist to catch his eyes.
“Then I just want you to relax,” He gives you a squeeze, “Woo and I will take care of you for the rest of the weekend, and on Monday or Tuesday when you go back to the studio everything will be fine. Yunho and Mingi will be whatever they are, but that isn’t your worry, that’s theirs.”
“And us?” You ask softly.
“We’ll be fine,” He says with ease, “y/n, listen, I don’t know what they said or didn’t say to you but I can guarantee it wasn’t clear.”
You nod.
“We’re friends, and Woo I’ll let you speak for yourself, but that’s all I’m interested in being. I’d like to help you this weekend, and then if in the future we end up sleeping together again? That’s fine, but as friends.” Seonghwa is so crystal clear you feel the floor giving under you. This is what you thought you had with Yunho and Mingi all those weeks ago, but in the face of actual clarity you can see how muddled and lost the three of you had been back then.
“That’s…” You search for the words, “such a relief, honestly,”
“Good,” Seonghwa smooths his thumb across the gland in your wrist.
“Me too,” Wooyoung jumps in, “actual no strings attached friend sex is the best kind,”
“You think so?” You shuffle back a little further onto Seonghwa’s lap.
“I know so,” Wooyoung says, “actually just being yourself and then not spending fucking days anxiously waiting for a phone call? Yeah, it’s better,”
“God, this is easier,” You sink back against Seonghwa’s chest and then glance at him, “is this okay?”
“Yes,” He assures you, wrapping an arm around your middle and holding you to him, “it’s nice, actually.”
“Does this mean we can spend the rest of the weekend in bed, then?” Wooyoung grins.
“I guess it does,” You laugh.
“y/n,” Seonghwa starts from behind you, shifting a little underneath you and you can hear the difference in his voice suddenly at the thought of bed, “are you still hungry?”
“I don’t think so,” You murmur, deeply aware of the way his hands have started to shift to your hips.
“I’m still a little hungry,” He confesses, and you watch as he starts to pull up the hem of your t-shirt, “starving actually,”
“Oh,” You can already feel blush creeping up your cheeks.
He lifts your shirt more, his hands brushing up and down your stomach gently as he lets you recline onto his chest, and then his fingers creep higher, just barely brushing the underside of your breasts, “Is this okay?”
“Mhm,” You answer, breathy and tight.
“Is this?” He lifts the shirt higher, dragging the material up over your bare breasts and drawing your nipples to attention.
You manage a nod against his shoulder.
“And this?” His thumb strokes over your nipple directly now.
“Yes,” You shudder.
Wooyoung sighs across the room, drawing your attention and you watch as he licks his lips, sliding his hand into his boxer briefs. When his hand starts to bob underneath the fabric you moan softly, gripping down on Seonghwa’s thigh under your hand.
“Let’s go to bed,” Seonghwa kisses your temple and drops your shirt, “right now,”
Instantly you’re aching, scrambling off his lap and ready to go wherever he’ll take you just as long as he keeps talking to you like that.
Wooyoung whines quietly, pulling his hand back, but you’re on the sudden same page of needing to get to a bed and needing to get to one fast.
Seonghwa pulls you along until you’re in the room again, and Wooyoung shuts the door behind you. Your head starts to get dizzy again with the heat and the warmth of them both, and Seonghwa only makes it worse when he tugs your shirt up over your head and palms your breast, “You’re so soft, jagi,”
Your mouth runs dry, and once again Wooyoung pulls the tie on your sleep pants and tugs them off you as he kisses your bare shoulder.
“Look at you,” Seonghwa hums appreciatively, “so very pretty,”
Your body pulses, the tone of his voice and the warmth bubbling everything back up inside you fast, “Please,”
“Lie back,” He maneuvers you to the bed, and you follow his instructions.
Wooyoung eases down next to you, tossing off his own shirt as he does.
“You’ve been slick all morning,” Seonghwa says as he descends over you, kissing across your jaw and down your neck, “do you know how badly I wanted to just bend you over?”
“F-fuck,” You choke, “alpha, please,”
He widens your legs with one hand, settling himself lower over you as he teases you with his lips, tongue, teeth, enhancing every little sensation with his words, “You make such pretty sounds, I almost knotted you on the breakfast table,”
“Oh my god,” Your back arches naturally, pressing yourself into him, “Hwa, oh my god,”
“Shush,” Seonghwa kisses down your bare chest, nuzzling your sternum as his hand starts to travel from its place near your knee up your inner thigh, creeping dangerously close to your core.
“He’s good at this,” Wooyoung tells you softly, his fingers ever so gently teasing your pert nipple.
“Woo,” Seonghwa sighs a breath of hot air across your belly, “leave a little to the imagination, hmm?”
Wooyoung snorts, “Touchy,”
Your body is starting to ache, neediness starting to curl open inside you and you huff softly, “I’m going to be touchy in a minute,”
Seonghwa groans, “Don’t tell me I adopted another brat,”
“I’m on my b-best behavior,” Your voice catches as his fingers finally part your slick folds, “but I am in heat.”
“Yes, you are, aren’t you?” Seonghwa nips at your hip bone, his lips traveling to your inner thighs as he sinks to his knees between your splayed knees, “Positively aching,”
“Oh,” You shiver, two of his fingers finally pushing inside your slick channel.
“You’re not quite ready for a knot yet though,” He comments softly.
“I know something that might help with that,” You smile, spreading your legs wider for him.
“I bet you do,” Seonghwa’s eyebrow quirks, his hand pulling back and thrusting forward in a pulse, his thumb dragging warm circles over your clit.
The reaction of your body is instantaneous, a quick rush of slick and a dizzy wash of pleasure up your spine as you let your head fall back into Wooyoung’s waiting palm.
“Told you,” Wooyoung whispers, and he kisses you fast, trapping your laugh between your lips.
Seonghwa grins, the pace of his hand perfect and sure and you’re already feeling the dizzy sparks of a building orgasm up your spine when the sharp sound of a doorbell brings you all out of it. You and Wooyoung break apart and his brows knit together in confusion, “Who’s here?”
“No idea,” Seonghwa waits a moment, but then comes a knock.
You’re shivering, feeling fucked already and you blink hard, wetting your lips and trying to shake off the cloudy feeling inside your brain.
“Sorry,” Seonghwa gives you a face and slowly pulls his fingers from you, “let me just see what’s going on,”
“Sure,” You sigh, watching as he jogs to the bathroom to rinse off his hands before getting to the door.
“Woo,” Your hands reflexively cover yourself, “do you have something I can wear?”
“Yeah, come here,” He pulls you to a sitting position and crosses the room for the robe hanging on the back of the door, long and dark gray and plush.
As you wrap yourself up in it, Wooyoung tosses on a pullover and gives you a smile, communicating silently that you should just relax while he and Seonghwa go investigate.
You flop back against the bedding and sigh, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You should check your phone, you should just suck it up and text Yunho and Mingi back, but before you get up the resolve you hear a new voice from the main room of the apartment.
“Where have you been?” San.
“Didn’t you get my voicemail?” Seonghwa asks.
“I saw you called,” San says, and you pull yourself up from the bed to creep closer to the hall, “but you didn’t answer any of my texts,”
“Right…” Seonghwa draws out, “because I called?”
“Sannie,” Wooyoung sighs, “we didn’t go missing, we’ve just been,”
“Is your heat early?” San interrupts suddenly, “why didn’t you call me?”
You creep around the doorframe just a little more and you smile when you see San cupping Wooyoung’s cheeks, Seonghwa all but rolling his eyes behind him.
Wooyoung makes an annoyed noise and pushes his sometimes lover’s hands away, “We did call you, now will you listen for two seconds?”
“If I knew you were in heat I would have come straight over,” San pushes forwards.
“Well that’s nice,” Wooyoung disentangles himself and keeps an arm’s length between him and his alpha, “but Sannie, I’m not in heat. Not even a little,”
“But,” San looks confused.
You step out a little further into the room, arms wrapped around yourself even though the robe drowns you, “He’s not, but I am,”
San snaps around with a start, “y/n!”
“Hey, San,” You give him a small wave.
“I didn’t know you were here,” He says.
“I was trying to tell you,” Seonghwa laughs, “can’t you tell Wooyoungie’s scent from hers?”
“Of course he can,” Wooyoung slaps Seonghwa across the arm, “ass.”
San sputters, falling silent and his eyes narrowing a little at his friend, and it’s clear as crystal what the vibe between the three of them is, even when heat is concerned.
“Speaking of heat,” Seonghwa meets your eyes from across their little dining room nook table that stands between you, them, and the kitchen, “are you alright? Should you be up?”
“I’m fine, Hwa,” You assure him with a smile, taking a few more steps forwards and raising your arms as if to show him, “really, this one’s a lot easier.”
San clears his throat and you can see him divert his eyes from you deliberately, a little blush up his cheeks, “So, this is why you haven’t been answering your phones,”
“Pretty much,” Wooyoung laughs.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” He says, locking eyes with Seonghwa.
“Sannie,” Seonghwa’s voice softens a little, and he gives him the smallest shake of the head.
You can feel the disappointment coming off of San in waves, and you can’t quite place the source except to assume that this has always been their thing, not yours. Your mouth feels a little dry as you watch them silently communicate with each other, and you take the second to realize just how much your hips are aching, legs feeling heavy, and your cramps are still deeply uncomfortable no matter how much better they are from last time. Seonghwa edging you really hasn’t helped though, and now you’re starting to feel a little desperate for relief, sweat breaking out along your hairline.
“It was kind of sudden,” Wooyoung jumps in between the two of them, smoothing over the moment of tension with ease, “right, y/n?”
You nod, securing the robe around you a little more tightly, “I really…” you start with a breath, “I honestly didn’t mean to intrude on this.” You gesture to the three of them and take a few steps forward. It’s not like you can really offer to leave at this point, but it feels like all you can really say.
San doesn’t let you feel those nerves for long though, his face clears and he shakes his head, “No, honestly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. You’re not intruding, you know that,”
Your hands rest on the back of one of the dining room chairs as you look between them, “As long as that’s true,” you worry your lip, “I had a hard enough time with Mingi and Yunho… if I ever did anything to hurt my friendship with you, I wouldn’t forgive myself.”
“Don’t think like that,” Seonghwa assures you, “not with us,”
“He’s right,” San nods, “I should have just listened to my voicemail,”
“Good,” You sigh, “that’s good.”
Wooyoung’s eyes flick over you and then he hums, “Do you want some tea, babe? You look a little pale,”
You nod immediately, “That would be so perfect,”
“I’ll get it,” Seonghwa stops Wooyoung as he moves towards the kitchen, “you both rest, I’ll take care of it,”
Wooyoung grins, “I’m not in heat, I can help,”
Seonghwa makes a noise and shrugs, “Just let me dote for a minute, would you?”
Wooyoung laughs sharply in response and the tension dissipates just like that, San’s expression relaxing into an easy smile as he watches the exchange.
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” You murmur, nudging Wooyoung in the ribs as you do.
Seonghwa disappears around the corner into the kitchen and you hear the sound of the electric kettle start up, and San finally lets his bag drop to the floor and his shoulders relax as he says, “How are you doing, then?”
“Good,” You smile, “much better than last time,”
“Mm,” San nods, “I’m glad to hear it,”
The silence stretches between you for a moment and then you find yourself asking without a second thought, “Did you go into the studio today?”
None of you had any set schedules or meetings today, but San is there more days than not regardless of schedule.
Wooyoung glances to you, knowing exactly what you’re asking but keeps his mouth shut.
“This morning,” San nods, “I just left a little while ago and I was running some errands before I stopped over,”
“Ah,” You nod, “how was it?”
“The studio?” His brows knit together in confusion, “Same as always,”
“Jesus,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “she’s asking if you saw Yunho and Mingi, if things were weird?”
“They weren’t in,” San replies, and then things seem to click together, “do they know you’re here?”
You shake your head, stomach twisting up in knots inside you.
“Do you not want them to know?” San asks.
“I… don’t really know,” You confess.
“Well,” San shrugs, “I didn’t see them, but if I do see them later, I won’t mention you. You can decide what you want them to know and when.”
“Thank you, San,” You murmur.
The knotting nervousness in your stomach doubles at the thought that they didn’t go into work today, even just a little in the morning when you know they almost always do. Where were they? Were they looking for you? Wondering about you? Thinking of you? You picture Mingi at your apartment door, trying to explain to your roommates who he is and what he’s doing there and finding out that instead of being able to swoop in and take care of you… you’re gone.
A cramp lights up your back and your hand flies to your stomach as you double over, jaw locked down tight at the sudden wave of discomfort.
“Hey, easy, easy,” San has an arm around you instantly, holding you upright and supporting you better than the chair could, “you’re okay,”
Your head rocks to the side, resting on his chest and you take a deep, necessary breath against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. He smells floral, the thought strikes you suddenly and starkly, more heady than most other alphas scents and you take another breath to let the scent of him wash over you. Jasmine hits you first, its sharp musk making you a little dizzy until you catch the underlying warmth of sandalwood. Your body relaxes into him naturally and he chuckles as he feels your trembling muscles unclench under his hands.
“San,” You murmur into his chest, the sound muffled.
“Hmm?”
“Can you help me to the couch?” You lean into him.
“Mhm,” He shifts and suddenly you’re in his arms entirely, “let’s sit,”
“Hyung, how’s that tea?” Wooyoung calls into the kitchen, and you feel his soft hand coast down the length of your arm as he shifts past you and San to try and help.
“Almost,” Seonghwa calls back, “she okay?”
“I’m fine,” You tell the room, “it’s just a cramp,”
“Here we go,” San says softly as he settles you down on the couch, “let me help,”
He shifts to sit behind you, his hands finding your lower back and he presses into your aching spine with his thumbs, kneading and massaging perfect circles into your body. You sigh, the overwhelming relief flooding you as he helps take away the immediate sharp soreness of your hips. What your body needs is a knot, but this combined with the warm scents of both alphas is a start.
Seonghwa returns a moment later, a mug of bright red tea in hand and he maneuvers the warm cup into your waiting fingers.
“What’s this?” You ask, dipping your head to smell the steaming liquid.
“Raspberry leaf,” He replies.
“Don’t you drink this for your heat?” Wooyoung flops onto the other couch that faces yours and quirks an eyebrow.
“Should I be?” You let the warm berry scent pass through you, the cup warming your chilly hands.
“Yes?” Wooyoung shakes his head, looking almost appalled, “it really helps regulate your hormones, helps with intensity spikes, is an anti-inflammatory, and promotes fertility.”
“Fertility isn’t really the goal here, Woo,” You snort.
“It is if it means your cycle is easier to deal with,” He dismisses, “you’re now on a Wooyoung prescribed two cups a day,”
“Fine, fine,” You take a gentle sip, testing the heat, “but I’m not drinking this because of your speech I’m drinking it because it smells good,”
“Whatever you say, babe,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to drink up.
San continues gently kneading your back as you take your first proper sip of the tea and Seonghwa settles on the sofa next to you. He brushes your hair back softly with his hand and gives you a smile, “After this, let’s get you back to bed,”
You nod into your cup, “I’d like that,”
“Do you normally spend your heats alone?” San asks, his hands slowing but still not lifting off your body, now just resting on your lower hips.
“Usually,” You take another sip.
“I could never,” Wooyoung grimaces, “that’s not fun, that’s just torture,”
“Heat isn’t really fun,” You laugh, “it’s just a thing.”
“You seemed to have a good time with Yunho and Mingi,” Wooyoung wags his eyebrows.
“Yeah, well, we all know how that one turned out,” You grimace.
“Relax,” Seonghwa smooths a hand over your knee through the fabric of the robe, “Youngie, leave her be.”
“Didn’t you ever want help?” San asks.
You chew the inside of your lip, “I guess, but my heats off suppressants are really intense and on them… I mean, usually I can handle it, so I handle it,”
“You’re a strong person,” San comments softly, giving your hip a squeeze as he shifts to start massaging your back again.
You almost muster a reply, but Wooyoung takes the attention of the room again with a groan, “I couldn’t do that, I tried once and it was awful,”
“What are your heats like, anyways?” You ask, leaning a little on Seonghwa’s shoulder as San keeps working your tired muscles.
“Oh, he’s the worst,” Seonghwa smiles, “constant begging the minute he starts slicking up,”
“Oh shut up,” Wooyoung grumbles.
“I’m just telling the truth,” Seonghwa laughs.
Another light cramp pulses through you and you exhale softly, taking another sip of tea. San’s hands pause, and he leans around you to watch your face, but Seonghwa and Wooyoung keep on bickering.
“Should I tell y/n how we found you last time you went into heat?” Seonghwa grins.
“I’ll literally kill you, Hwa,” Wooyoung tosses a pillow hard and it collides with Seonghwa’s chest.
“Not a very nice way to treat your alpha,” Seonghwa replies, his hand leaving your knee as he goes to toss the pillow back.
“Maybe you’ll have to punish me later,” Wooyoung slaps the flying pillow out of the air so it lands smoothly back on the couch and gives Seonghwa a flirty smile, tongue against his teeth.
“Maybe I will,”
Your stomach locks up, core pulsing lightly and you suddenly feel stifled in the room, hot and cold all at the same time. You make a soft, tense noise and the cup in your fingers tips to the side, losing some of the tea as you try to recover it.
“Shh,” San plucks the cup from your hands and sets it on the table, curling around to your side, “it’s alright,”
“Ow,” You manage, pressing a palm down over your stomach.
San smooths his hand along yours and catches your eyes, “You’re alright, omega,”
Something inside you melts and he gently strokes the gland in your neck with his opposite hand, nodding as you start to relax from the immediate surge of pain and arousal.
“Jagiya,” Seonghwa strokes your skin, “let’s go to bed,”
“Please,” your eyes flutter shut.
“Then I should go,” San clears his throat, his hands starting to lift away from you, “I’ll leave you three to,”
You don’t know what possesses you, but you reach for him the minute his skin leaves yours, eyes flying open as you grab his hands and shake your head, “Don’t go,”
His eyes blow wide, “y/n,”
“Why not?” You glance at Wooyoung and Seonghwa, a little panicked now that the trajectory of this is uncertain, but all you know is that you’d like him to stay. You squeeze San’s hands, “You’re here, we’re all here, I mean… why not stay?”
His eyes flick past you to Seonghwa, holding a question you don’t understand.
“If you don’t want to,” The words leave you in a rush, at the sinking realization that he may not want any of this.
San looks back to you in a flash, “It’s not that,”
Relief blooms inside you, “It’s not?”
“Not at all,” He smooths down your hair and tries to ease you, “but are you sure?”
“Sure,” You nod, “really,”
His eyes flick over you, and you can feel him considering his next move, but then he nods.
You end up right back where you were when the doorbell rang twenty minutes ago, only this time you have San on your right while Wooyoung teases you on your left and Seonghwa rests between your thighs. Distantly in the back of your brain, the part that’s still rational and sarcastic, you wonder if your brain is broken now and your omega needs two alphas to feel sated.
“I won’t make you wait,” Seonghwa suddenly says, sinking down and attaching his mouth to your aching sex without any further preamble, and it pulls you sharply out of your own thoughts.
“Oh, fuck,” You groan, your hips jerking at the sudden spark of sensation.
“So sensitive,” Seonghwa hums appreciatively, locating your clit with the hardened tip of his tongue and flicking it firmly.
You mutter something, head already fogging up, and San brushes his fingers along your arm, “Can I touch you, omega?” He murmurs, his voice thickening, getting huskier.
You nod fast, holding his gaze to let him know he’s allowed and he shifts to press lazy kisses along your chest as he watches the other alpha between your thighs.
For all of Wooyoung’s jokes before, he’s fallen silent now. His eyes are blown wide as he watches the way both alphas touch you, and you can tell he’s torn between helping you along and helping himself.
“Let’s get you ready for that knot, hmm?” Seonghwa kisses your mound, and you feel his fingers stroking your entrance, pushing in just slightly and then retracting to tease your body just right and let all your internal muscles unlock.
Inside you, your omega feels like it’s finally waking. Your heat that’s been bubbling all day against the medicated ceiling of your suppressants feels like a pressure cooker now, ready to burst and leave you desperate with want. Seonghwa’s tongue returns to your swollen bud and San’s lips find your nipple, and you feel the hot wave ripple through you, “A-alpha,”
“Right here, darling,” Seonghwa croons, thrusting two fingers deep inside you and drawing a tight moan from your lips.
“Alpha,” You stammer, “I need it,”
“Mhm,”
San sighs pleasantly against your sweat slick skin, his hand stroking along your side and Seonghwa doubles his efforts, thrusting his fingers in earnest now and sucking hard on your clit. Hot pleasure strikes up your spine and you moan, head back and your eyes slipping closed as you let the feeling of their hands on you make you dizzy and wet.
“Right there,” You pant, “alpha, y-yes, yes,”
He hums against you and you scramble in the sheets, gripping down on Wooyoung’s forearm.
“Woo,” San’s voice enters the mix but you barely register, the orgasm in front of you so quickly approaching that you need to reach it and reach it now.
Wooyoung shifts next to you, and Seonghwa pulls back from you for a split second to catch his breath before the sensation in your brain pops apart like a firecracker. Seonghwa licks a deep stripe over your slit, and then secures his lips around your clit once more, alternating sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. The air in the room tightens when San delivers a sharp lick to your pebbled nipple and then Wooyoung follows suit on your other side.
“Oh, god,” Your eyes press closed tightly and you grip the back of San’s shirt in your desperate squirming, “I’m,”
“Come on, baby,” Wooyoung encourages, rolling his tongue over you again, “you’re so close,”
You whine sharply, hips canting, “Please, please,”
Seonghwa’s hands on your hips tighten, and he doesn’t change pace or pressure or anything at all, he just doesn’t stop. The bubble threatening to burst inside your belly feels hot and full and then with a rush, it pops and you shudder open into your first real heat addled orgasm.
“Good, good,” Seonghwa’s fingers start to slow and you whine sharply.
Wooyoung pulls off your breast with a little gasp, his face flushed pink and he meets your eyes as you start to crest upwards into another wave, but as Seonghwa’s hand slows so does the approach of what could be and you whimper, thighs quivering.
“Oh,” Wooyoung pouts a little at you, sympathetic and understanding and he hushes you, “I got you,”
You want more, and you know it needs to end in a knot for your body to register everything right, but in this split second you need Wooyoung more. You nod, frantic and close to tears, “Please,”
He pushes back from you quick, rocking over the side of the bed and suddenly he’s got his hands on Seonghwa, pushing him away, “Shove over,”
“W-what?” Seonghwa seems startled by the sudden directness of the omega and San lifts his head to see what’s happening at the sharp tone of his voice.
“Just move,” Wooyoung drops to his knees and dips his arms under your thighs until your legs are swung up over his shoulders and he’s tugging you down the bed to move you into position. You squeak when he drags you down the bed and San laughs above you.
“I’ve never seen you so assertive, Youngie,” He comments.
“Shut up,” Wooyoung bites back, “she’s not done,”
“Please, God,” Your hips jerk, angling for him to touch you, you can feel your pleasure slipping and you need him to catch it before it’s gone.
“Not God, babe,” Wooyoung nips your thigh with his teeth and you jerk again in his hands, “but I’ll do my best,”
“So cocky,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, stepping back to hand over control.
“I’ll show you how it’s done, alpha,” Wooyoung shoots him an even cockier grin, tongue against teeth, and you’re about to say something more but then he’s on you.
Wooyoung treats your cunt like he knows every inch of it, like he’s done this for you specifically a thousand times before. Without ever asking he knows the pace you like, the way you need something inside you just to feel the weight of it, the way your mind spins when he reaches around and lays a hand over belly.
“I can’t, oh God, oh fuck,” You scramble but he holds you steady.
He hums warmly against you, picking up the pace of his sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves and when he feels your legs start to shake in earnest he presses up with two fingers inside you and presses down with the heel of his hand over your lower stomach. You were close before, off the back of your orgasm from Seonghwa’s tongue, but this is something else entirely and your vision whites out as your back arches. One hand fists the sheets, the other gripping down over Wooyoung’s and you can barely hear the noises you’re making but you know they must be feral.
When he’s sure you’re coming through it, no longer seeking drawn out stimulation but instead pulling your hips back and away from his sharp tongue, he lifts away just enough to give your aching clit some relief from overstimulation.
“You do taste like honey,” Is the first thing he says, his breath hot against your cunt as he stays between your thighs, recovering from his own lack of oxygen.
Your body is starting to relax from the tense muscle lock up of your orgasm, and slowly your eyes start to open.
“Holy shit,” Seonghwa breathes and your eyes flick to him. His eyes are dark, studying you both and you can see the hard line of his erection straining against his trousers.
San brushes your sweat slick hair back from your forehead and smiles down at you, “Doing okay?”
Words feel slow to your lips but you nod, “Mhm,”
Wooyoung makes a little huff between your thighs and you glance down, seeing how close Seonghwa has stepped again, his fingers running through the omega’s hair. Seonghwa hums appreciatively, caressing Wooyoung as he leans against your inner thigh, “Good boy,”
Wooyoung preens, you can see the sudden warmth flooding him at the praise.
“A very good boy,” Seonghwa croons again, “taking such good care of our pretty new omega,”
“Thank you, alpha,” Wooyoung nuzzles into Seonghwa’s palm and for a second it feels like you’re watching something too intimate, but then he pushes back from you and drops your legs off his shoulders, “I hope you took notes,”
Seonghwa sighs and delivers a fast, friendly smack to the back of Wooyoung’s head, their brief moment of heat dissipating with Wooyoung’s easy teasing. But Seonghwa softens again the moment he turns his attention to you, his hands gentle on your sides as he settles close, “You still in there, darling?”
“Kind of,” You admit, still hazy, “I can’t feel my legs,”
“Sounds about right,” San laughs as Wooyoung collapses into his side, and San swings an arm over his shoulders to let him snuggle closer.
“You still haven’t been knotted,” Seonghwa notes softly, stroking your skin, “how are you feeling?”
The idea of a knot sends a thrill through you, but your body feels sluggish, “Dizzy,”
He hums softly, the tone empathetic and warm.
“I need a few minutes,” You tell him honestly.
“Of course,” He soothes, “we’re here for you, you set the pace.”
“That was just a lot,”
Wooyoung grins and you roll your eyes at him.
“It’s a marathon, not a race,” San notes.
“I’ll just touch you a little,” Seonghwa relaxes next to you, running his fingers up and down your thigh, “you tell me when you want more,”
“Okay,” Your voice is thready as he dips his hand between your thighs.
“You two look good together,” San appraises, reaching across the bed to feel your skin, gentle strokes and and down your arm.
“Do we?” You laugh a little, but something is starting to thrum again in the back of your brain.
“Mm,” San’s hand moves a little further, cupping your breast and kneading it slowly, “a little too good,”
Seonghwa’s fingers explore you lazily, running up the soft, plush skin of your cunt but never quite getting close enough to properly tease your slit or your aching bud. He sighs pleasantly as he watches your nipples harden into peaks, “Don’t be jealous Sannie,”
San huffs softly, and then he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to your chest, “y/n,” he murmurs, “is this alright?”
You twitch under them, “Y-yes,”
“She’s a puddle,” Wooyoung jokes as he catches sight of your hazy look, “are my alphas making you feel so, so good, omega?”
Your hips jerk and Seonghwa lays his hand over your thighs to steady you.
“More,” You nod, resting one hand on the back of San’s neck, fingertips sinking into his hair as you push his head towards your breast.
“Like this?” He murmurs against your skin, flattening his tongue over your nipple once to lick it firmly before he closes his plush lips around it and sucks.
Heat spikes up your spine and you nod, “Yes, like that,”
The sound of a belt buckle draws your eyes back up to Seonghwa and you watch him disrobe entirely, dropping his trousers and kicking off his boxers.
“Let’s just take it slow,” Seonghwa eases your legs open, and you tilt your hips back to shift yourself into position and give him the access he needs, “sound good?”
Despite the way you’re starting to ache, you nod and relax back into the sheets, cupping San to your chest as he lavishes your nipple.
“Pretty,” Seonghwa hums as he slides his hands up the back of your thighs and deepens your position.
It’s exposing and raw, but at the same time you know exactly how much this is lighting up the deep part of your brain that needs this, so you just let yourself go.
“Nice and wet,” He smiles, this time dragging two fingers down your slit, rocking the slick pad of his middle finger over your swollen bundle of nerves.
You gasp a little, shaking in his grip.
“Isn’t she pretty, Sannie?” He says, glancing at the other alpha.
“Mhm,” San sighs, lifting up with a little pop so he can take you both in. He relaxes back against Wooyoung and when you twist your head to the side you see the hungry darkness in San’s gaze. Wooyoung’s eyes flick over you, a subtle smile on his lips, and then he tucks himself close behind San and starts to work a hand into the alpha’s sweats.
You hiss sharply when you feel something heavier drop over your slit and you jerk back to Seonghwa, his hard cock now nestled between your folds as he teases your clit lazily with the head.
“You want alpha’s cock, pretty girl?” Seonghwa says, rocking his hips to drag his length over your seam.
“Please,” You nod, fingers tight in the sheets.
“Where?” He teases.
“Hwa,”
“Here?” He presses the tip of his cock against your slick hole and then stops completely.
“Yes, yes,” You shiver, “please,”
He slides away with a smirk.
“Where?” He asks again, and you realize he wants to hear you say it.
Wooyoung chuckles softly next to you, and you hear San sigh, the distinct slow sound of swishing fabric as Wooyoung works his hand over San’s cock. It feels a little thrilling to have an audience, it’s making your hazy brain even needier and wanton and you jerk your hips against Seonghwa’s cock to try and get him to move the right way.
Seonghwa shakes his head, “Where?”
Your back aches, a cramp in your core, and you huff, a little flustered, “Inside,”
“Inside where?” Seonghwa tuts.
You swallow hard, reaching down between your legs. With gentle fingers you run your fingers along his shaft, watching his face for every little reaction. His jaw jumps as you swirl your fingers over the velvet head of his cock and you repeat the motion, again and again to get a harder reaction from him.
You’re watching each other intently, waiting to see who will fall apart first. When he sighs once, soft and breathy, you angle your hips back just a little and push down on his cock, directing him inside your aching channel and sinking him an inch or two inside you.
“Ah, ah,” He scolds, catching your wrist and locking you both still, “just say where you want me, omega,”
“Inside,” You insist, voice breaking a little as a flush lights up your chest, “alpha, please,”
“Just tell me,” He pleads, dropping his thumb over your clit, “it’s easy, darling, it’s just words,”
You wet your lips and reach up for him, fingertips skimming over his arm, “Hwa,” you murmur, blush lighting up your cheeks, “I want you inside me, please, in my pussy,”
He smiles and then rocks forward, pushing inside you to the hilt in one fluid motion, “Good omega,”
The sensation of him filling you so fast and so suddenly has your body arching up against the sheets and your head falling back, your eyes shutting tightly as you moan, “Oh, fuck,”
“Damn,” Wooyoung murmurs, but you ignore him.
“Does that feel good, omega?” Seonghwa leans down over you, holding you tightly with a hand anchored to the back of your thigh just below the knee, holding you open wide for him.
You whine tightly as he rocks inside you, the curled angle driving the head of his cock over your sweet spot again and again, the firm plane of his pubic bone pressing rhythmically against your clit. You feel dizzy from the sensation, but then you feel something low and needy in your gut.
“Knot,” You stammer out, gripping down on any part of Seonghwa you can hold.
“Is that what you want?” He smiles, rolling his hips.
“Alpha, please,” You pant, “knot me,”
He thrusts forward hard, holding himself tightly inside you and he shakes his head, “Ask nicely,”
A shudder runs up your spine and you think it’s entirely possible that Wooyoung isn’t really that much of a brat, Seonghwa just likes it when the omegas under him whine. You rock your hips and beg him to keep moving inside you with your body, but he shakes his head again. He wants to hear you.
“Alpha,” You pant, dropping your voice a bit and tapping into that deep coursing need running through you, “please knot me, please,”
“Good girl,” He sighs, moving his hips again.
“Please,” Your head lolls back as he starts to thrust again in earnest.
“I’ll keep you on my knot all night,” He chokes, finally starting to lose himself a little, the base of his cock starting to swell.
“Yes, yes,”
“Beg,” He thrusts hard, knocking your hips together, “beg me to fucking knot you,”
Your mind tunnels, nothing but you and Seonghwa working together now and when you answer him it feels almost like another person, “Alpha, please, please, I’m so empty,”
“Fuck,” He pants.
“Please, fill me up,” You moan, nails digging into his arms.
“Mine,” He drops lower over you, pulling your head back by your hair and attaching his lips to your throat, “isn’t that right, pretty thing?”
“Oh,” Your body is locking up around his cock suddenly as the dam breaks, “oh, fuck Hwa, don’t stop,”
He shakes his head against you and keeps thrusting, panting into your hair. With a groan he shudders, locking his hips forwards and you feel the swell of his knot push past your entrance and expand. “Fuck, that’s it,” He grinds his hips against yours, and then you feel him release hot and wet and filling inside you. Pleasure washes back over you and you jut your hips against his just to feel another sweeping wave, your body disconnecting deliciously as he comes inside you.
Your brain reconnects slowly. First you register the weight of him above you, pressing down into you with his cock still buried inside your heat. Then his soft fingers in your hair, his lips on your cheek.
His knot is already softening and you sigh, reaching up for him and running your fingers through his black hair as you catch your breath and reopen your eyes.
“Hey,” He murmurs down at you, “okay?”
“Mhm,” You smile lazily, “you?”
“Excellent,” He laughs, dropping one more kiss to your cheek.
“I’ll say,” Wooyoung clears his throat and you blush scarlet, you had forgotten how close they were, how present they were.
You cover your face with your hands and groan.
“You’re fun when you let loose,” Wooyoung prods your shoulder to get your attention, “I never would have pegged you for so much dirty talk,”
“Oh my god,” You sigh, twisting to look at him, “will you please shut up?”
“I’m just saying,” He shrugs and you’re trying to come up with a clever retort but then you feel Seonghwa start to pull himself free and you realize a few things at once.
Where Wooyoung is looking at you and Seonghwa together, San hasn’t glanced at you once. His eyes are glued to Seonghwa, running over his sweat-slick body, his lips parted and his muscles locked up tight. He’s not in a rut, you know that clearly, but his expression and his eyes remind you of a rut, singularly focused and serious.
Seonghwa notices it a moment later as he slides off the bed and you watch him smile, “Like something you see Sannie?”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes and scoots a little closer to you on the bed and then San moves, quick like a flash. He secures a hand around Seonghwa’s wrist and tugs him down fast to land on top of him and then he kisses the other alpha so hard they both make a surprised hiss of pleasure.
“San, what,” Seonghwa manages, but San won’t let him be. His lips are hungry, his body hungrier still, dragging the man closer and closer and slotting their hips together as their mouths work together.
San breaks the kiss first, rolling to the side and effectively trapping Seonghwa beneath him, “I need you right now,”
“Oh,” Seonghwa shudders, his cock starting to stiffen again.
Wooyoung moves closer to you, giving them some much needed space and giving you the post-coital cuddles you really need. He tugs a blanket up over your bodies and spoons you, settling in like you’re about to watch a show together.
“Don’t mind them,” Wooyoung murmurs into your ear, “they get like this,”
You open your mouth but Seonghwa moans sharply as San kisses down his neck, letting his tongue drag over the other alpha’s gland and nipping his collarbone.
“Turn over,” San says, manhandling Seonghwa into a better position before pushing down his own pants just enough to free his cock.
They’re nothing but need, clawing at each other just to feel skin against skin and it’s clear that they’ve done this a thousand times before, so intimately familiar with each other’s bodies. You can hear their breath, their every move against the sheets, and it feels like you’ve been given a view into something too intimate, too real.
“Woo,” You murmur quietly, “should we…”
He hesitates, almost unable to tear his eyes away but then he nods, “Shower?”
“Mhm,”
Wooyoung slips out of bed behind you as San drags Seonghwa’s head to the side and reaches into Wooyoung’s nightstand for the lube.
“San,” Seonghwa whines in a tone you’ve never in your life heard from the alpha, “please, fucking please,”
“Shh,” San brushes a hand down his lover’s back and then uncaps the lubricant in his hands, “I’ve got you jagiya,”
Your lips part in awe as you watch them, stunned at the way they look together, move together. You only snap out of it when Wooyoung taps your side, and you slide quietly out of the bed too, focused on not disturbing the couple beside you. You follow Wooyoung to the connected bathroom, but you keep watching them all the while.
Seonghwa groans when San thrusts his hips forward hard, pushing himself inside and you shiver at the image, your own body responding at the sight. San runs a hand through his hair before squeezing Seonghwa’s hips, silently letting him know that he’s about to move. As he does, rocking his hips in slow steady thrusts, he runs his hand reverently along Seonghwa’s skin, finding his hand in the sheets and twining their fingers together.
“I missed you so much,” San says lowly, pressing a kiss between Seonghwa’s shoulders.
Seonghwa makes another noise, almost a sob as he nods into the bedding, gripping down on the alpha’s hand harder.
Even with the knotting you just experienced, the sight of them together is enough to light a flushing warmth back through your body and make you want again.
“y/n,” Wooyoung finally catches your attention and you pull yourself away from the doorway and into the bathroom.
In the shower, you and Wooyoung stick close together, and the sounds from the other room still make it through the door despite the drone of the water. You gravitate towards each other easily, wanting to feel the comfort of each other’s bodies in the warmth of the spray. You kiss until your jaw aches, and make each other come one more time despite the water turning tepid halfway through.
When you’re done and the water is off, you wrap yourselves in fluffy blue towels and listen closely to see if San and Seonghwa are finished.
As you lean against the sink, Wooyoung gently drags a brush through your wet hair to detangle it from the shower and you finally ask the question that’s been brewing in the back of your mind, “Woo,” you murmur, keeping your voice low to ensure the alphas in the adjacent room can’t hear you, “why aren’t they together?”
Relationships between the same designation are rare but certainly not unheard of, especially in polyamorous relationships, and it’s plain as day to you now how much they connect and care about one another.
Wooyoung meets your eyes in the mirror and shrugs, his mouth downturned, “You’d have to ask them,”
“You don’t know?” Your eyebrows shoot high.
He shakes his head, “I learned not to push that one a long time ago,”
You chew the inside of your lip, mulling it over. Your conversation with San all those weeks ago when he walked you home flicks through your mind and you remember the way that he brushed right past the topic the minute you started to press. You had assumed the person he was referring to was Wooyoung, they’re always so tactile with one another, but the longer you spend with them behind closed doors the more you realize that is just how Wooyoung communicates, with touch. Now the little moments of tension you spotted between San and Seonghwa make so much more sense.
Wooyoung finishes brushing out your hair and puts the brush back on the sink, “What’s that face for?”
You smooth out your expression and recover, “Sorry,”
“What?” He prompts you.
“What about you?” You ask softly.
“I love them, they’re my best friends,” He says with ease.
“Okay,” You hold his gaze in the mirror.
He wraps his arms around you and shakes his head, “It works for us,” He says, “and if they’re not ready to admit how they feel to themselves, then that’s up to them and they can have whatever this is,”
“As long as you’re not caught in the middle,” You press a kiss to his forearm.
“Not with them,” He assures you.
The sound of laughter from the next room draws your attention and Wooyoung smiles, “Let’s go, don’t worry about this,” he says and you nod, staying bundled up in your towel as you follow him into the next room.
San and Seonghwa are cuddled tightly together, trading soft and quiet kisses, but when they hear you both coming back in you watch San straighten up a little and look towards the two of you. They look so good together, so natural, relaxing against each other in the sheets looking far more at peace than you’ve ever seen them.
“Sorry about that,” He clears his throat softly.
“Don’t be sorry,” You shake your head.
“We’re supposed to be taking care of you,” He smiles, “I just got a little carried away,”
Seonghwa blushes, dipping his face into the pillow below him and you grin, “I’m actually doing fine, don’t worry about me.”
“Can we come back in?” Wooyoung asks as he climbs onto the bed, reaching back for your hand.
“Of course,” Seonghwa pushes San back towards the other edge of the bed and he lifts the duvet, “it’s your nest not ours, please,”
Something inside you feels a little soft, like warm melted butter at the idea of a full nest and you feel your tense shoulders relax. Wooyoung maneuvers you into the center, snuggled up between him and Seonghwa, but San reaches across and soon you’re sinking into all three of their touches.
“You want to try and sleep?” San asks softly.
“We probably should,” You nod.
Seonghwa finds the tender gland in your neck and strokes it gently, “We’ll be right here when you wake up,”
You shift closer, resting your cheek on his chest and you nod, “I know you will,”
“Good,” He sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Held like this it’s easy to drift off so you do.
When you wake again it’s to the sounds of rustling sheets, but not someone getting up and out of bed, it’s the clear sound of rocking. Whoever it is sounds close, pleasured little pants and moans, and you can feel your stomach knotting up and just the sounds of sex in the room so close to you.
There’s a warm body behind you, just coconing you in, but it’s different than how you fell asleep. The body behind you is broader, warmer, and you realize after a moment of hazy waking that it’s San cuddled up to your back and spooning you, not Wooyoung. You slept hard though, and you’re not really surprised that everyone shifting around didn’t wake you even though the bed isn’t really large enough for the four of you. You’re all making it work and you’d be lying if you said the close proximity of them and their scents wasn’t keeping you calmer than any heat you’ve had before.
Your face is tucked into a pillow, and you don’t exactly want to alert the room that you’re awake, but you’re starting to feel uncomfortably hot again and you can feel yourself itching out of your skin, desperate to just slip a hand between your thighs and relieve the growing tension.
Someone, Wooyoung you gather, moans quietly next to you.
“So needy,” Seonghwa whispers, “and you’re not even in heat,”
Wooyoung makes another shuddering noise, and the bed moves next to you a little faster.
You feel it when San’s hand on your hip tightens, his breath warm behind you, and then there’s the telltale sensation of his cock growing hard against your backside. Your eyes flutter open, your hands gripping the bedding beneath you.
San swallows tightly and drops his lips to your ear, “You awake?”
You nod, lifting your head a little.
Seonghwa and Wooyoung are tangled together inches from you, and the groan that leaves you at the sight of them is sudden and sharp, a cramp lighting up inside you.
Seonghwa’s head snaps to the side at the sound and his brows knit together, “Omega?”
Your muscles clench, slick rushing forth, “Oh, god,”
Wooyoung whines, his fingers digging into Seonghwa’s shoulders, “Stay with me, Hwa,”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Seonghwa shifts to tend to the omega in his lap, “I’m right here,”
“y/n?” San’s lips press closer to your ear, “let me help,”
You relax into his chest immediately, your legs parting, body practically purring the moment his hand smooths over your hip to press between your legs.
“We have an audience, baby,” Seonghwa murmurs, pulling Wooyoung down to his mouth and kissing him soundly.
Wooyoung moans, desperate and shaky, his hips starting to move again beneath the comforter as he and Seonghwa rock against each other.
“You do like that, don’t you,” Seonghwa teases him, his fingers tracing a line up Wooyoung’s chest and circling his pebbled nipple.
“Jesus,” Wooyoung stammers, “fuck,”
You can’t tear your eyes away, you’re glued to them and the way their bodies move together, but you gasp sharply as San brushes his fingertips gently over your clit and starts to explore you.
“More,” You beg softly, “please, Sannie,”
If it's at all possible, his cock gets stiffer against your backside.
“Is my pretty boy going to come?” Seonghwa hums at Wooyoung, nipping at his lip and placing wet kisses across his jaw.
“I need it,” He chokes out in reply.
San pushes a finger inside you, but with the way you’re dripping and aching for a knot it’s nowhere near enough and you shake your head, “Alpha, please,”
“Shh, shh,” He soothes, pulling back his hand entirely, “hold on, jagi,”
He rifles around behind you, and you hear the sound of a drawer opening and closing. He’s fiddling with something behind you but you can’t turn around, you just need to let him take care of things. Your body is too flushed with warmth and slick with sweat to comprehend anything but the deep need inside you to feel what Wooyoung is feeling, and every second that you watch them makes your need hungrier.
“Here we go,” San wraps an arm around you, and you see a flash of something pink and blue in his hands but you don’t make sense of it until he hikes up your leg to open you up wide and you feel something hard push at the entrance of your cunt.
“What,” You start to say but then he angles the toy upwards and sinks the first few inches of the thick dildo inside you.
“Just relax,” He eases you, “watch them,”
A moment ago you would have said you needed a real cock, that no knotting dildo would do, but with the way San is wrapped around you it doesn’t seem to matter. The heat from his body sinks into yours, blooming jasmine everywhere as his breath passes over you, staccatoed pants with every sharp flex of his arm to fuck you deeper.
In front of you, Seonghwa and Wooyoung have gotten closer, their faces tucked close to one another as Wooyoung chokes out another moan. You watch the red blush creep up his chest, his back, his cheeks, flushing him deliciously as his body starts to tremble in earnest.
“Come, baby,” Seonghwa kisses his ear, “don’t stop,”
Wooyoung groans, muttering something into Seonghwa’s collarbone and he smiles in response, petting Wooyoung’s hair and dropping his lips to Wooyoung’s aching throat. Your body locks up, the sight too much for your heat-addled brain.
“Deeper,” You plead, “harder,”
San nods against your shoulder, “Good, omega,”
A throbbing pulses through your body, and he pushes the dildo in deeper, the knot at the base catching on your slick hole as he works the toy faster and harder. You look down between your legs, at the way his muscular arm arcs over your belly and at how fast his hand works the silicone cock inside you, and all you can do is moan and grip down on the bedding once more.
“I’m, I’m,” Wooyoung pants and you look back up, “fuck, I’m coming,”
Seonghwa sucks at Wooyoung’s pulse, teasing his mating gland and scenting him and you watch Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, his body locking up in absolute pleasure as his orgasm collides into him. He ruts himself against Seonghwa blindly, aching and whimpering until his hips slow and he slips down against the alpha to rest on his chest.
“Baby,” Seonghwa strokes his lover’s back, “you’re so good,”
The praise, even when not directed at you, sends a spark of needy pleasure through your body and you grip down on San’s arm, “Please,”
He shifts you both suddenly, wrapping you tightly in his arms and rolling you so that you’re laid out on top of him, your back to his chest and your body folding open and prone like a fresh flower. Once you’re settled there he returns to working the toy in and out of your fluttering walls, but this time he takes his opposite hand and finds your clit, setting a quick rhythm against your bud to stimulate you fast.
“G-God, oh god,” You grip down on the sheets, letting him control you.
“Good omegas come,” San all but growls in your ear, “are you good, jagi?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Your brain is fogging up, things feeling hot and cold at the same time, “knot me,”
“Come,”
“Knot, please, alpha,” You manage, and even though you feel the pressure dropping low in your belly, the only thing that will get you over the edge of pleasure is his knot.
“You want to be filled?” He pumps the toy sharply.
“Yes!” You clamp your eyes down tight, holding on.
His fingers slip off your clit, hand reaching for something in the bedding and you start to whine but then he does it. With one full thrust the knot of the toy pushes up inside you and activates the primal part of your brain that had been lying so dormant. You’re flustered and coming hard so suddenly, but he continues to rock and grind the toy to catch against your clit and leave your body fluttering over into orgasm.
“Yes, oh, oh, fuck,” You babble, and then you feel something more. The sensation of a cock spilling inside you is so distinctive, so real, and you blink your eyes open with a gasp as the sensation heightens your orgasm into another rolling wave.
When it all slows down, you can barely breathe.
San leaves the toy inside you, one hand on your hip and the other slowly stroking your belly.
“y/n,” Seonghwa’s voice is warm and close, fingertips coasting along your cheek, “are you alright?”
“I’m so good,” You sigh, an overwhelming urge to snuggle into a cuddle pile and never leave it, “I’m perfect,”
“Not too rough?” San checks as he starts to push himself up a little.
You shake your head against his chest, your hands finally unlocking from the sheets.
“Alright,” He reaches between your legs and gently takes the toy, “relax, let me help with this,”
Knotting dildos, while an incredible substitute during heat, lack one feature most of the time. Where a real alpha’s knot would deflate and easily allow you to uncouple, knotting dildos like this one are just solid silicone. You let him ease the toy out of your channel, going slow and keeping you calm with his warm scent. When it pops free you fall back with a sigh, ignoring the sudden rush of artificial cum out of you.
“I’ll get a towel,” Wooyoung murmurs, and when you look up you realize he’s already standing and redressed in boxers and an oversized dark gray shirt.
“Water too,” San instructs and Wooyoung diverts to the mini fridge.
San eases you off his chest and to the side, and Seonghwa pulls away the sheets that had been under you, now damp and soiled with slick and cum. When he flops back to lie down you notice he’s closer, moving into San’s side and their bodies rest against each other from hip to shoulder, slotting together like a puzzle.
“Let me in,” Wooyoung says as he climbs back into the bed, a warm washcloth swept between your thighs and a water bottle in your hand.
Wooyoung’s phone lights up with a chime, an alarm, but he silences without a thought.
“Woo,” Seonghwa stops him, “get your meds before you forget,”
You blink hard and lift your head, “Your suppressants?”
“Mm,” Wooyoung nods, quickly moving towards his bag by the door, “I wasn’t even paying attention,”
“What time is it?” You twist in the sheets.
“You need yours?” Wooyoung asks, “Where are they?”
“What day is it?” You start doing mental math and in much the same way you need to take birth control pills like clockwork, you need to stay on schedule with suppressants.
“Saturday,” San runs a hand along your back to soothe you, “you’re alright,”
“Where, babe?” Wooyoung asks again, pulling your bag from the floor.
“There’s a pink pouch in the side,” You tell him, “they should be in there,”
“Got it,”
“Did you miss one?” Seonghwa eases you back into the bedding, “Or two?”
“One,” You answer immediately, your schedule built into you even in heat, “I’m good,”
“Good,” Seonghwa rubs your back, “don’t worry,”
“Here,” Wooyoung presses your pill pack into your hand.
He takes his own pill and then slides back into bed while you pop two out of their little foil packet, Friday and Saturday together, and then down them both with the remaining water in the bottle. Relief fills you immediately, the last thing you want to deal with during onboarding would be a broken and extended cycle.
“Thank you for the reminder,” You sigh, “I don’t know where my head is,”
“Heat,” Seonghwa laughs.��
“Mm,” You nod, “this one has been so easy though, honestly,”
“That’s good,” San finds your hand and gives you a squeeze, “but don’t be hard on yourself,”
“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “I should have asked your schedule,”
“It’s fine,” You shake your head, “we’re good, crisis averted,”
Wooyoung laughs and snuggles up to your back, “God, could you imagine if we both forgot,”
“Absolutely not,” San groans.
“Both of you in heat?” Seonghwa shakes his head, “I don’t know if we could handle that one,”
“Ha ha,” Wooyoung grumbles, “I’m not that bad,”
“I don’t know,” You relax into their touch, letting your eyes drift closed again, “I think I believe them,”
He huffs into your shoulder, and San and Seonghwa both laugh again, shuffling lower in the bedding until all four of you are sandwiched together. Your body feels stiff, little cramps here and there, but for right now you can just relax and feel them close to you, their combined scents easing you into a warm mid-morning nap.
You spend the whole weekend tangled up with the three of them in every possible way, falling in and out of the peaks and valleys of your heat right alongside them. It’s easier this time around, never feeling faded or too foggy even on your hardest days, everything you need just taken care of without question. It’s surely the suppressants, but it’s them too, everything feeling so natural and easy and comfortable. You hardly have room to think of anything but yourself and the men with you until your heat breaks entirely.
You don’t think of them once until it’s over, and then you do.
This time it’s immediate, a fast sinking feeling while you’re awake that’s like being doused in ice cold water when drinking, an instantly sobering effect that leaves you blinking hard and slightly dizzy. San and Seonghwa aren’t with you, they’re in the kitchen making lunch while you and Wooyoung relaxed together in a bit of a post orgasmic haze, but all of a sudden you wish they were here.
“Shit,” You breathe, pushing yourself into a sitting position and dragging the robe tighter around you.
“You good?” Wooyoung asks from his position to your side.
“Yeah,” You nod, “but it’s done,”
“That was fast,” He murmurs, stroking your hair back, “I would have thought one more day,”
“Me too,” You breathe, running your hands over your face and trying to get your head around things. It’s both helpful that it’s Sunday so you can go back to work tomorrow, but too sudden, this heat a full two days shorter than the previous.
“What can I get you?” He rolls over onto one hip and looks up at you.
“Can you just hand me my phone,” You nod past him to where it sits on the charger, flipped over and silenced, “my roommates are probably looking for me,”
“Yeah,” He grabs it and then grabs the water bottle on the nightstand too, “here, this too,”
“Thank you,” You take both, and then drink as much water as you can manage to soothe your dry throat.
Wooyoung slides up to sit next to you and rests a warm hand on your knee, but he stays quiet and lets you come back to center.
After three days of being with them you almost fully forgot how you left it at the studio, how you left it with them. When you light up your phone and actually take a look at your notifications your stomach knots up immediately. There’s fluff of course, random notifications from Instagram and Twitter, a few texts from friends and you can see that your roommates group chat is actively pinging with messages, but then you scroll a little further to texts from a few nights ago and feel your pulse quicken.
You hesitate a little, not sure if you really want to know what the unread text from Mingi says, but then you click it and lose your breath all over again.
He’s freaking out a little bit, but I told him you’re probably already home and sleeping.
Which you are, right?
You swallow tightly, and then read the third one, sent fifteen minutes after the first two.
I just really hope you’re safe.
Now your chest hurts.
“What is it?” Wooyoung glances at you, but you know he knows.
It was real, you know it now. Deep in your core you know that every moment spent with them wasn’t just your heat, and it wasn’t just your hormones. The longing you felt after and your willingness to let them have every inch of you wasn’t just nothing.
You hand him the phone silently, you just can’t manage to say it out loud.
He reads the text and sees your expression, and all it once it dawns on him too. Wooyoung tucks your hair behind your ear and smooths his thumb along your jaw, “So this heat was different wasn’t it?”
Your eyes fill with tears fast, and you wet your lips, “Yeah,”
“Oh, babe,” His eyes soften.
“Woo,” You swallow hard to push the tears away, “I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t,”
“Fuck,” He gathers you close, leaning back into the cushions and tucking your face into his chest, “come here, don’t cry,”
You hear the door creak open and you press your eyes closed tight.
“What’s going on in here?” San asks, his voice low and soothing, “What’s wrong?”
Wooyoung rubs your back and sighs, “Life sucks,”
You laugh sharply into Wooyoung’s chest at his tone and nod your head, “Fucking sucks,”
“Oh, y/n,” Seonghwa murmurs, “are you coming down already, I’m so sorry we stepped out,”
Your brain throbs, the memory of Mingi holding you steady as you cried last time flickering so brightly you can almost feel the echo of his arms around you and you bury your head deeper into Wooyoung’s chest as if that will be a place for you to hide away from all of this.
“Get in here,” Wooyoung says at that, “she’s shivering,”
Someone warm sidles up to your back, and at the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee you know it’s Seonghwa. He cuddles you both close and presses kisses along your shoulder, “What’s wrong, jagiya? Talk to us,”
You search through your feelings, through all the things you could say or not say and all you can do is sigh, heavy and hard against Wooyoung’s warm skin. You push yourself back, rolling onto your back between them and you realize San is sitting on the edge of the bed by Seonghwa, reaching over his lover to rest his hand on your thigh.
You find Wooyoung’s hand in the tangled mess and lace your fingers together, “You’ve all been so wonderful to me the past couple of days,”
“That’s why you’re so upset?” Seonghwa smooths his hand over your forehead.
“I don’t want to go back to normal,” You confess, “I don’t want to go back to work,”
Wooyoung’s brows knit together, fully empathizing with the part that’s hurting so badly. In the clarity of your come down it’s readily apparent to you how different this has been from your time with Yunho and Mingi. This time was casual, this time was easy. The comfort of these two alphas was essential and soothing, but you don’t want them, not like you wanted before. You had been so sure the ache in your body that yearned so deeply was something so easily written off, a biological want, but knowing better now hurts.
“Why, jagi?” San strokes your skin lovingly.
“I’ve been so stupid,” You pull your hand from Wooyoung’s and sweep both through your hair, wiping under your eyes as you get control of yourself, “Woo was right all along,”
You know he’d normally make a joke, but he just nods, “I’m sorry,”
“Is this about them?” Seonghwa asks softly.
You manage a nod, “How am I supposed to go back to the studio?”
“Stop,” San shakes his head firmly, “it’s your studio too.”
“Is it though?”
“Yes,” He squeezes you, “I know this hurts, but you said it yourself, they wanted it to be a one-time thing,”
Misery curls in your gut at that thought, that your time with them really is over, but you nod, “They’ve been pretty clear, they just want to be friends.”
“And you?” San prompts you again, and Seonghwa looks up to him.
“I’ve been moving on from them since it happened,” You murmur, “I guess I just didn’t know before now if it was real or just… being an omega.”
“At least you know now,” Wooyoung offers quietly, “and I know this doesn’t help, help, but next time when it feels real, you’ll know it is, you can trust it.”
You don’t really want a next time with someone else, some faceless fated alpha, but you nod anyway.
Seonghwa leans into you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I know it’s hard loving someone, or caring for someone like this when they don’t feel the same,” he says quietly, “but believe me when I say you’re worth a thousand of them, and this heartache will fade,”
The room is still around you, quiet, and your breath hitches as you hang on his words and how true you know they are. Wooyoung reaches across you to brush his hand down Seonghwa’s arm, and you feel the weight of the bed change. When you open your eyes, San is gone.
“Sannie?” You murmur.
Seonghwa shakes his head against yours, “He’s fine,” he murmurs, “this isn’t about him,”
“It’s complicated,” You surmise, turning to find Seonghwa’s brown eyes.
“Isn’t it always?” He smiles, angles into a joke, and the moment of vulnerability is gone.
You let him hold you quietly in the middle of the bed for a moment before you manage, “What now?”
“Now we get up,” Wooyoung squeezes your hand, “we get cleaned up, and we get an absolutely delicious fucking dinner,”
Despite the tears lingering in your eyes his words pull a laugh straight from your chest and you nod, “That sounds… so good right about now,”
“Mhm,” Wooyoung nods, “you can’t let this pull you under again,”
“I know,” You breathe.
“Tomorrow will be fine,” He doubles down, “awkward, but you’ve done that with them before. You’ll be just fine,”
“Okay,”
“You two can use the shower first if you want,” Wooyoung kisses your shoulder.
“Should we order in?” Seonghwa asks, still resting by your side.
“No,” Wooyoung insists, “we’re going out, and we’re getting our minds off things.” He’s off the bed a second later and he follows San out of the room, no room for argument now that he’s set his mind to cheering you back up.
Seonghwa’s quiet, but then he drops his lips to your gland and presses gentle kisses there to help soothe you before he asks, “Are you up to going out? I can pull the alpha card if you need to me to calm Youngie down,”
If you’re being really truly honest, you want nothing more than to curl up in bed, but you know if you do that you’ll just spend the next ten hours worrying about tomorrow’s inevitable encounter. You chew your lip and fight the urge to take his offer, “It might be good for me to get out,” you settle on.
“Then we’re going,” He nods.
Seonghwa rolls off the bed, but you can feel the question lingering on your tongue and you reach out and take his hand, “Hwa,”
“What is it?” He smiles softly down at you.
You smooth your thumb along the back of his hand, “You and San,”
His smile fades and his eyes flick away from yours for just a moment, “I’ll tell you another time,”
“You don’t have to,” You rush to correct, “but you’ve been here for me, and I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you too,”
“I’m fine, y/n, honestly,” He retracts his hand but you tighten your grip.
“I’m sure you are,” You hold his gaze, “but I’m still here,”
He swallows tightly and then nods, “I’ll start the shower for you,”
You leave it here, you have to. With San so close in the next room and the way Seonghwa left you in bed you can practically feel his boundary line between you and you have to respect it. Maybe he’ll tell you someday and maybe he won’t, but it’s clear to you that there’s something swirling and deep between these two alphas and their omega. Even in the easiest relationships, things are hard.
With the room empty you take a moment and you turn your phone over in your hands. You need to put them out of sight and out of mind if you’re going to make it through the night at your own apartment without fixating on them and how you feel. But for just a moment you just can’t help yourself.
With a sigh you open up your messages again and read through Mingi’s texts and then Yunho’s. Your fingers hover over the keys and you wonder what message you could write back at this point that wouldn’t feel terrible to them or to you, or what doors it might open, but you don’t.
Seonghwa calls out to let you know the shower is warm and you pull yourself out of bed, leaving your phone once again face down on the dresser. It will just be what it will be, and nothing you do today will change that. You follow Seonghwa into the shower, and then you both follow Wooyoung and San out for the night.
It all feels normal almost immediately, like any other night out that you’ve had with them before. You don’t feel any longing, any desperate ache. You don’t want to cling to Seonghwa or San at all, despite how good the weekend might have been. Suppressants or not, you feel normal. Clear.
The remaining tension with San is gone too, with practiced ease he’s back to his normal self. You know it clearly, he’s done this exact dance before. He laughs alongside Seonghwa like best friends do, with a perfectly acceptable amount of space between them. No heated glances, no touches under the table.
You think maybe all you have to do is learn how to dance like San.
#honeyhotteoks fic#honeyhotteoks updates#this night together fic#yunho fic#mingi fic#seonghwa fic#san fic#wooyoung fic#ateez#ateez fic#ateez ff#ateez omegaverse#yunho x reader#mingi x reader#san x reader#seonghwa x reader#wooyoung x reader#everyone x everyone x reader you know
617 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be - Max Verstappen
written by alocon
Note: Based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko
Summary: You are a Red Bull Racing driver who decided to make a song over the summer break about your ex... Who just so happens to be a Red Bull Racing driver. Said driver decided to listen to the song, reliving memories from when you were together as the lyrics progressed
Warning: Angst? I guess. Plus some social media at the end x
[The Masterlist] [Part Two Here]
A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be - MV¹
Max looked at his phone, reading the post and instantly heading to the link to listen to your new song. He sat back on his bed, listening as the guitar started.
"I never should've called"
[October 2010]
Picking up the phone, you sighed before you dialled the number that he had given you earlier.
“Hello, is this [Name]?” He asked once he picked up the phone.
“Yep. It is indeed,” you responded, hearing a sigh through the screen from the man.
He smiled. “I was hoping you would call.”
"’Cause I knew you would leave me"
[October 2010]
“Racing is the most important part of my life,” he said as you both sat in the coffee shop talking, getting to know one another. “It's always racing over anything. I want to be a Formula One driver one day.”
“I get it, I'm the same.”
"But I didn't think you could do it so easily"
[November 2018]
“No. I can't. Racing over everything, remember? Just like I said when we were 13. This is over.”
“Max you can race and be with me, you know?”
Max turned to you, bitterly laughing. It was obvious that any love he had for you was long gone. “Not when we're going to be driving together.”
“It's not like there's anything in the contract about us not dating. It's never changed how we drive together. Are you seriously going to throw us away for no damn reason?” You questioned, watching as he shrugged before nodding. You stood up. “Fine by me.” It was not fine by you, but you weren't going to let him see that. You walked out of his driver's room. Just like that. 8 years down the drain.
"I never should have held your hand on that cold rainy night"
[November 2010]
“You look nice,” the 13-year-old said, greeting you with a hug. You hugged him back, of course. Your 13th birthday was last week and he had got you some flowers for it, knowing that you loved them. He looked at you as you began to walk. Looking back, you slipped your hand into his, making him smile, cheeks flushing slightly. That wasn't the only time that you held hands that night. You held hands on the run home whilst you darted from shelter to shelter, attempting to avoid the awful weather.
“You said the weather would be good,” you stated to him through laughs as you got to the bus stop, pausing to take shelter for a moment.
He was also laughing and turned to you. “I thought it was!”
"Cause further along it would cause another fight"
[December 2010]
“It's not my fault that your dad was following us all night!” You were angry at the accusations that your boyfriend was yelling at you.
“He got so mad about it. He wants us to break up because you decided to hold my hand.”
“And is that what you want, Max?”
He sighed, taking a breath to calm himself down. He stepped closer to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “No. No it's not. I'm sorry.”
"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes."
[July 2023]
You stood on the top step of the podium, having just won the British Grand Prix. Beside you, in P2, was Verstappen. On the other side, in P3, was Lando. The champagne spraying had already happened and it was now time for a photo. You felt eyes on you.
Turning around, your eyes met Max's. He looked at you with something you couldn't read, but you didn't care. Your eyes gave back a completely blank look, almost as if you didn't know him. You shuffled along for the photo, both drivers on either side of you. You felt Max's hand place against your back. You shuffled out of his grip, swapping places with Lando so he was in the middle. His arm went to where Max's just was but you didn't push him away. You made a 1 with your hand, Lando making a 3 as the three of you posed with your race engineer.
"A Soulmate That Wasn't Meant To Be"
[April 2019]
“What happened between you two anyway?”
You turned to look at Charles and Seb as the pair eyes you both sat as far away from one another as Charles’ driver room couch would allow. It was an innocent question. He didn't know.
“I guess we were just soulmates who weren't meant to be,” Max answered, shrugging as he spoke.
You rolled your eyes. ‘Something like that,’ you thought.
"Stranger, who knows all my secrets"
[January 2010]
You gasped. “No way you did that!” You said, looking at Max as he laughed softly.
“I did.” It took him a few minutes to calm down before he looked at you. “Your turn. What's your biggest secret?”
"Can pull me apart and break my heart"
[February 2019]
Your first time being around Max properly since you both broke up. He treated you like you weren't as important as him. He treated you as if you didn't have more wins than him, acting like he was the better driver, the better person, as if he didn't rip you apart into a bunch of tiny pieces when he out of the blue ended your 8 year relationship. The pair of you had been dating since you were 13 and he threw that away for nothing.
He used the excuse that racing meant he couldn't be with you but that wasn't true at all. You were both driving together for years and it changed nothing. But he went from, one day being excited about you also moving to Red Bull with him, to ending the relationship with no explanation. It made no sense.
"A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be"
[September 2014]
“Do you think soulmates exist?”
It was a question you had been curious to know for ages. You asked him so casually as you sat on his bed, watching a show on the TV on his wall. He looked at you, not even hesitating to answer. “Well if they do, I hope you're mine.”
"I never should've kissed, kissed your hand"
[October 2010]
You met him for the first time. He walked over and introduced himself to you. It was some dumb competition. 2 teams, hand the karting grid in each team. Your team vs his, whichever team scored more karting points got to choose everyone else's outfits the next week. Of course, you had won and, of course, Charles had expertly suggested that you all make them wear fancy dress princess dresses.
You laughed as he walked over to you. “I wouldn't have to wear this stupid dress if it wasn't for your last lap overtake,” he declared, feigning annoyance before following your laugh, unable to hold it back any longer.
“Well, for the record, Max. You make a very pretty princess.” You picked his hand up in yours, teasingly placing a kiss on it before breaking out into laughter again at the unimpressed look on his face.
"I am under your control"
[December 2023]
“Let Max Through.”
The three words that drove you insane. Even when you were quicker, even when you were fighting him for championships, it was always you being told to give up the place for him. Even when either of you could easily win, Horner favourited Max. You hated being in Red Bull at the moment. You hated how unfair it was. You hated the way that he was the golden boy and you were nothing. You would have more wins than him if Christian didn't berate you every time you didn't listen and let Max through. But not this time. This was your championship, and noone will take it away from you.
"I will never understand"
[December 2023]
“We told you to give the place to Max,” you heard Horner say through the radio as you crossed the line.
“I was quicker, though.”
“I don't care.”
“He's already world champion, does it matter?”
“Yes.”
You really didn't understand why you were nothing to them.
"I never should have said “I love you”. You never said it back."
[November 2018]
“Seriously, Max. This is so out of the blue. I love you. I thought you loved me.”
He didn't reply, just stared at you with a blank expression. That was when you realised. He didn't love you. Maybe he never did.
"So why do I still care for you?"
[July 2021]
“What happened?” You asked as you walked up to the pit wall, the red flag having just came out.
“Max and Lewis touched.” You looked to the screen, seeing Max's car in the wall. You felt your heartbeat grow faster. Shit. That looked bad.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes. We're getting him to medical now.”
"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. Stranger, who knows all my secrets, can pull me apart and break my heart. A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be."
[August 2021]
You sat down beside Kimi and Anthonio, who looked at you. “He's being a dick again, I take it?” The Finn asked and you nodded, infuriated.
“When isn't he being a dick to you. What did he do this time?” Antonio was the next to ask a question.
You shrugged, beginning to explain his major outburst to you, calling you the worst driver he's ever been teammates with, a bitch, saying he was glad he ‘got rid of you when he got the chance’, saying that you're nothing compared to him you'll never be anything. As per either his usual outbursts, Jos was sat watching in the corner.
"I wish I could go back to the day we met and leave you be."
[May 2022]
Those were the words you shouted back at him when, once more, Jos and Christian berated you for not letting him through. He seemed taken aback. You had not shouted back at him like that before. He never realised you could shout that loud and full of hate.
“Don't say that about him.” Christian's voice boomed as he screamed at you once again.
“Well, if I didn't, maybe I would've been able to be respected by you guys, rather than treated like shit.”
"Sit and look pretty"
[August 2023]
“What?” You looked into the audience at the person who said that. As you went to speak, you heard someone do it before you could.
“Fuck you.”
Such a simple phrase yet elegantly put by Max as he flipped the questioner off, before shooting you an apologetic look. He felt bad for snapping rather than letting you speak. He just couldn't help defending you. He really didn't hate you, he never could. In fact, he felt quite the opposite for you. He could never let you know that, though
“Being a Formula One driver is tough, even more so for women because we are judged by people like you. I do not just sit there and look pretty. I do my job.”
"Never should've called. Never should've kissed."
A lot of the time, you regretted getting with Max. It was always bound to go badly. Sometimes you wondered if you were really that stupid. Stupid enough to believe it was the right thing to do. That you would work out.
"Never should've said."
[January 2024]
You sighed, looking at the photo of you and Max you found under your drawers in your room. You saw some writing on the back. It must've been there for a while, likely falling out of your drawer after you rearranged it the previous week. You turned it over, recognising Max's writing.
“Diary thing,
This photo is of me and the love of my life. My dad made me break up with her. I didn't want to but it was either her ass on the line or mine. And I didn't want him to terrorise her. Anyways I miss her, that was all. I never should've said that I wanted to break up with her”
What the fuck?
"Stranger, that's all I see. When I look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be. Stranger, who knows all my secrets. Can pull me apart and break my heart. A soulmate who wasn't meant to be."
The song came to an end and, by it, Max was crying. He opened his phone, finding the post on Instagram, typing out a comment. One that she didn't reply to.
youruser
liked by lewishamilton and others
youruser: Surprise, new song out now!! Link in my bio. Thank you lewishamilton for being my guitarist!! (Bonus Pic of Arthur because he took the 8th photo of me!)
tagged: lewishamilton, arthurleclerc
-view all comments-
lewishamilton: Such a beautiful song, thank you for letting me be the guitarist. So so proud of you ❤️
youruser: Thank you !! ❤️
georgerussell63: Great song!! Smashed it 👍
youruser: Appreciate it, Mr. Russell
charles_leclerc: Excellent song! Maybe I could be your pianist next time? 😉
youruser: Absolutely, you're already on my collab list dw 😉
charles_leclerc: Right alongside Yuki and Pierre as your backup singers, I hope? We've all heard their excellent karaoke 🎤
youruser: Obviously!
carlossainz55: Such an emotional song, loved it 😭❤️
youruser: Thank you, Carlos!!
maxverstappen1: Lovely song! I really enjoyed it
landonorris: Right. That's it. You're paying for my therapy.
youruser: You're a driver too. Pay for your own ✋️🙄
oscarpiastri: Can you pay for my therapy tho?
youruser: Ofc, send me the bill
landonorris: ACTUAL FAVOURITISM???? WHAT THE HELL
youruser: 😚😚
yukitsunoda0511: I am officially your biggest fan, I'm obsessed.
youruser: Yuki!! You're an angel 🤍
yukitsuonda0511: So are you! 🤍
danielricciardo: All 3 of us are crying over your song rn.
youruser: Crying session in the VCARB garage, pull up.
estebanocon: Much better than your drunk singing 😉
youruser: I'll have you know, Mr. Ocon, that my drunk singing is wonderful.
estebanocon: No its not.
charles_leclerc: No its not.
pierregasly: No its not.
lance_stroll: No its not.
youruser: Screw the lot of you.
pierregasly: She can sing? I didn't know she could do that. (Not well at least, drunk karaoke is always horrific with you)
youruser: 🫵🫵 When I find you.
lance_stroll: Well done, great song.
youruser: Thank you.
fernandoalo_oficial: So proud 👏
youruser: Thank you !!
zhouguanyu24: Wow 😍
youruser: Thank Youuu omg
valtteribottas: Beautiful song, kiddo
youruser: Thank you Val!
alex_albon: New favourite song.
youruser: Ahh thank you
logansargeant: I got to hear it early!! Luckiest person ever.
youruser: Logan you're actually one of the nicest person to ever exist.
alex_albon: Ah So this is why he's crying.
yukitsunoda0511: Lucky :(
youruser: Dw Yuki, I'll show you early next time! X
liamlawson30: My girlfriend has been playing this on repeat.
youruser: TELL HER I LOVE HER
liamlawson30: Nah, you've stolen enough of the WAGs.
nyckdevries: Excellent song!
youruser: Nyck!!! Miss you 💛
mickschumacher: Launch Party soon??? This is actually heaven in a song.
youruser: Thank you. Launch Party soon, you're so invited
nicholaslatifi: Great song!
youruser: THE GOAT HAS ARRIVED, THIS IS NOT A DRILL 📣📣 Thank you Nicky
sebastianvettel: So so proud of you, kiddo.
youruser: Thanks, I miss you Seb x
sebastianvettel: I miss you too. Meet up soon?
kimimatiasraikkonen: So many words for the song and every one of them is positive
youruser: Kimi 😭❤️
nicorosberg: Wow!! Well done you two 🤩
youruser: Thank you, Brit (Kill Lew please this comment was his idea)
lewishamilton: Thanks, Britney
nicorosberg: Never mind. You're both annoying 😂
jensonbutton: Beautiful, beautiful song
youruser: Miss you Jens!
AlphaTauri: Wow??? 🤩
youruser: THANK YOUUUU
schecoperez: Is this about who I think it is?? Lovely song x
youruser: It might be, depends who you think it is about, thank you. X
formula1: Song of the year???
youruser: THANK YOU ADMIN X
christianhorner: It's not bad. 👍
user: "not bad"? I'd like to see you do better.
*liked by youruser*
mercedesamgf1: THAT'S OUR GRID GIRL <3
youruser: Ahh 😭 love u admin
mercedesamgf1: love u too
user: notice how other teams are commenting but not redbull??? The team she fucking drives for?
user2: They don't respect her as a driver or person, it sucks :(
-The End-
-Word Count: 2,601 (incl. social media. 2,061 without)-
Hi All,
Hope you enjoyed! Have a nice day. Got nothing against Max btw, just fancied an angsty story btw. Thinking of another angsty Red Bull story soon
Alocon
#f1#fanfic#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max x reader#max#mv1#mv1 x reader#max verstappen red bull#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#mv1 one shot#mv1 imagine#mv1 fic#mv1fluff#mv1 angst#red bull racing#red bull f1#oracle red bull racing#red bull#red bull racing f1#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen angst#mv1 x you#mv1 x y/n#mv1 fanfic#mv1 red bull
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
Good Neighbors
Artwork by the one, the only, the @dr-aculaaa - There's a sweet treat of another piece of artwork at the end of this fic.
*I'm a shit for neglecting to mention that @jo-harrington commissioned the artwork for me, and encouraged this fic every step of the way.
Super Perv!Eddie x Older!Fem!Reader | 5.4K
A/N: This is a reupload from Chesty based on a random request. Many people were involved in the creation of this beast. I have a love/hate relationship with this scumbag.
*There is no actual sexual contact between this reader and Eddie. He has some elaborate fantasies about her. He crosses lines, and it's uncomfy. I consider this a bit out of character.
Contains: Stalker behavior, crossing of privacy boundaries, a pipe bomb, male masturbation, and cum eating. (and food play)
---
Eddie Munson, sweetheart of Forest Hill Trailer Park, is sitting at the picnic table that sits between your trailers. It is 6:30 am. Before you moved into the park, Eddie Munson didn’t wake up before 8:45 am. It’s different now. He’s the kind of guy that gets up with the sun, coffee mug, Camels, and battered paperback in hand, to sit in the crisp spring morning air. To see you.
Eddie is a sweetheart. That has always been true about him, but it’s only been the last few years that it’s an accepted fact within his community. He’s had his fair share of problems, he’s been in and out of legal trouble. He’s made some questionable choices as far as making money goes, but he’s a good man. Always has been. Even Eddie thinks he might be a good man.
Eddie has been walking Mrs. Olson’s terrier every morning and afternoon since she had her shoulder replaced two weeks ago. He does brake jobs for the cost of parts and a six pack for anyone that asks. He even got some lumber and rope to put up a couple of swings around the park for the kids. He has a respectable job down at Danny’s Garage. He’s not just a mechanic, he’s a supervisor now. He’s reliable. He might be a little late in the mornings, but he never misses work, the customers love him, and the guys love that he still has a hookup and can supply cheap herb whenever they ask for it.
This morning Eddie has his book, The Talisman - open to page 243. Eddie’s had this book open to page 243 every morning this week. Eddie’s not progressing in the story. He’s not getting lost in the worlds that King and Straub have described in those pages that are already yellowing from exposure to tobacco smoke. He’s waiting behind the pages. He’s anticipating. He’s holding his prop, his reason for being here. The book is, of course, a ruse - and you are the intended target.
This Monday morning, you’re dressed in your usual jogging outfit for these chilly late spring mornings. OSU sweatshirt and matching gray sweatpants. Eddie silently prays to Mother Nature for the true warmth of summer. He wants the heat of the sun to coax you out of those warm clothes and into a pair of jogging shorts. A tank top that shows the lines of a sports bra. Maybe even just a sports bra on really hot days.
Eddie is already sporting an erection just thinking about the possibilities, which makes getting up and walking over to greet you at the foot of your front steps a bad idea. He’s wearing his work coveralls with a white tank top and shorts underneath. It gets hot in the garage, even when it’s not full mid-summer heat. He knows for a fact that his unfortunate boner will be on full display against the poly/cotton blend fabric.
You were hoping to run into Eddie this morning. Such a nice young man, and so helpful to you since the first day you arrived in Hawkins. Your arm was still in the sling at the time, and he made a fuss about making sure you didn’t lift anything heavier than your purse. He spent the better part of the day carrying boxes into your new home with his sweet smile spread across his full lips. A handsome guy, it was no surprise when a pretty girl pulled up that evening and headed to his trailer. You don’t know what happened to her, but after a couple of weeks in the park, she stopped coming by. A shame, Eddie deserves a good woman. You tell him all the time, if you were 20 years younger, you’d snatch him up.
You’ve got a few things you’d like him to do around your trailer when he has the time. Rick, your current boyfriend, isn’t the type to do manual labor. He’s also a good man, a respectable lawyer at that. He’s kind. It’s ok that he can’t put in a garbage disposal. It’s ok that he doesn’t know how to fix your leaky sink. He’s offered to pay a plumber, but Eddie seems to genuinely care about you. You like that, it feels right to be in a community like this after living in hell for so long. It makes you feel safe knowing that the Munsons are right next door, keeping an eye on things.
“Good morning, Eddie!” You have a niggling feeling that Eddie had been looking in the direction of your trailer just before you looked up to see if he was in his usual spot. He always has the brightest smile for you, even in the early hours of the day. Today is no exception. What a nice surprise to find out the sweet young man next door is also an early bird, up with the sun every day. It’s not what you would have expected from a leather wearing, motorcycle wearing, tattooed metalhead. You were happy to put aside your preconceived notions for him.
“Howdy, neighbor!” As usual, he’s got a Camel lit and perched between his ringed fingers. Funny that he wears them to the garage every day knowing that he’ll have to take them off before he starts work, but he has them prettily adorned on his fingers every time you see him.
“I’m so so glad I caught you,” Eddie preened a little at your smile and kind words. He loves it when you stop for a chat. It’s the reason he gets up at these ungodly hours, he knows it’s a chance to see you. To talk to you. To catch a whiff of your scent. “I’m wondering if I could have you do some handyman work around my place again. I’m happy to pay for it –“
“We’ve talked about this before,” Eddie’s hand is up in the air as soon as you utter the word “pay”, stopping your train of thought before it can really start to pick up steam.
“Well,” you let out a deep sigh to show your faux annoyance, “there’s a pie and roast beef dinner with your name on it, at least. You’ve got my key. I’ll leave a note with what needs to be done along with some cash for any parts you might need. Thank you, I should probably know how to do most of this stuff myself, but I’m useless.”
“Pretty ladies don’t need to know how to snake a drain, we’ve been over this. If Rick doesn’t have the time, your good friend Eddie does. What are neighbors for?” His smile, as always, reassures you. He really doesn’t mind helping the middle-aged lady next door with silly little tasks. And he always leaves your place immaculate, cleaner than when he came to do the work.
“God, what would I do without you? You’re such a sweet boy, Eddie.” Eddie’s erection presses hard against his thigh at your praise, and aches painfully when you give his forearm a little squeeze. “If I were about 20 years younger…” the sentiment hangs in the air as you turn and begin your trail jog, leaving Eddie sitting alone with only his uncomfortable boner to keep him company.
You say it every time he’s sweet to you. If I were about 20 years younger, and Eddie wants nothing more than to tell you that he doesn’t want that. He wants you now. But that’s not going to happen with your clean cut, age-appropriate boyfriend in the picture. A boyfriend that takes you to nice dinners once a week. A boyfriend that drives an expensive car. A boyfriend that will probably pull you out of your post-divorce poverty and put you up in his cute suburban home with a white picket fence.
--
Eddie watched you return from your jog from the front window of his trailer. It was already getting too warm, and you had taken off your sweatshirt, exposing a wide armed talk top with a sports bra underneath. Sweat was trickling down your neck. He couldn’t see it from this distance, but he knew there would be beads of it kissing your soft skin. He thought about what it would be like for his tongue to catch that saltiness. Let his tongue slide across your collarbone. He could almost taste you, from the imagining alone. Smell you.
Eddie wonders if you do it on purpose. He wonders if you bend down with your ample behind pointed in the direction of his front window hoping he’ll see it. He likes to imagine that you do. He likes to imagine that you know what you do to him, that the game is something you’re playing together. He thinks about putting his face in the cradle of your neck while he pulls down those gray sweatpants. He thinks about dropping down to spread your ass for him. He thinks about letting his tongue taste you while you’re still glistening with sweat. It would be so good. Yes. He thinks about this while he watches you. He thinks about this while he tugs at his aching cock. He fists at himself furiously while you arch your back and let the sun shine down on your face. He’s been hard since you came out of your trailer this morning, and he’s been patiently waiting for your return to relieve himself. He has a pair of your panties under his nose, a pair you were sure your dryer ate at some point. Your scent is faint, but still present. It’s not until after you’ve climbed the steps to your trailer that he wraps those cotton panties around his length and releases himself with a groan.
Eddie tucks himself away and immediately checks his coveralls for any possible stray cum stains. Regret and disgust begin to creep into his mind before he can fully push them back, but he knows it doesn’t matter. He’ll still be a few minutes late for work because he needs to know which outfit you’ve decided to wear today. Will it be the dockers with the wide black belt paired with one of your short-sleeved sweaters? Or maybe the dress you bought last week that you’re worried about being a little too casual for the office?
Eddie doesn’t know this stuff about you because you and he have girl chats over cups of coffee in the afternoon. He knows this stuff about you because he’s observant. He listens. Your trailers are close together, after all, and when the windows are open, he can sometimes pick up bits of conversations. Some of them are between you and Ricky, some of them are one sided phone conversations with your friends. It’s not creepy. He can’t help it. He’s making sure. He’s keeping an eye out. You deserve to be safe and happy, and he’s going to do his goddamned best to make sure that happens. He would never pry.
The first time he saw you, your pain cried out to him. Your broken arm was still healing, and there were still faint yellowing bruises scattered across your pretty face. Eddie knew exactly what happened before he ever had the evidence. It took a few weeks, but he put the pieces together, and found out about him, the ex. He found out where he worked. An insurance agent with his own office. Well – he had an office in downtown Dayton, Ohio. Stand-up guy, except for the part where he beats his wife.
Eddie had only meant to scare him a little. He threw the pipe bomb into the dumpster and drove away. He didn’t check to make sure there was nothing flammable inside, because there are rules about that kind of thing. It’s not really his fault what happened, plus no one was in the building anyway. He expected to cause a little confusing mess, but the entire place ended as kindling. Eddie still thinks the guy got off easy.
Of course, he recognizes now that it was too far. How would he be able to make sure you’re doing ok if he’s stuck behind bars? What he wanted to do was strangle the ex with his bare hands and watch the light of life blow out of his eyes. But it’s better to stay where he is, to keep an eye out. Plus, Rick is a really good guy. So far.
--
Eddie,
Thank you, a million times over. You’re such a sweetheart for doing this for me. I made a pie last night, have a slice (or two) if you want and there’s beer in the fridge. I’ll be back around 4, and I’m making your favorite for your dinner payment.
xoxoxo,
your favorite neighbor
The note hangs on the metal door of your trailer, you’d left early. You’re working a double at the diner, and it’s Eddie’s day off. Convenient for him. He can work uninterrupted. He can have the place to himself. His cock is hard just thinking about being in your space with your things. He hopes there’s some laundry left in the hamper just inside your bedroom door. He hopes you went jogging this morning, that maybe your sweatband would be sitting on your vanity.
Your living room is tidy, it’s always tidy. A People magazine, a TV Guide, an ashtray, and a lilac scented candle sit on the coffee table at the center of the room when he enters. You don’t smoke, but Ricky does, and she never minds if you do when you’re in her place. You even asked Eddie the other night if he’d want to share a joint with her sometime when you caught a whiff of the weed smoke coming from his porch. He brought some weed today just in case you were serious.
Eddie makes his way to the kitchen where his first, and easiest, task of the day is located. It’s all plumbing problems, and he told you it would take all day. But, no, It’ll actually be a couple of hours. Tops. Plenty of time for other things. The reality is Eddie could come into your place any time, but he’d never do it uninvited. That would be intrusive. He respects your privacy and would never want to cross a line.
Eddie tosses his jacket on your empty recliner and gets to work sorting through his tools. His first stop is the kitchen where he promised he’d put in a new garbage disposal. The kitchen is tidy, just like every other part of your trailer. It’s your place, all yours, and you treasure it. Eddie notices a coffee mug with a red lipstick kiss on the rim and an empty bowl with a spoon sitting next to the sink. Breakfast dishes, no doubt.
There’s a bit of Raisin Bran residue in the spoon sitting in the white porcelain bowl. Without a thought in his head, he takes the spoon and shoves it into his mouth. Eddie runs his tongue against the cool metal, lapping up the last of the milk and cereal. His eyes are closed in concentration, reaching for any lingering taste of you left within the dirty utensil. It’s a fight against his brain when lays the spoon back to rest in its former position and turns his attention to the coffee mug. A kiss left just for him, he lets his tongue run across the ghost of your lips, tasting your lipstick. He’s already hard just being here with the hints of you that were left behind this morning.
No more, he promises himself, not until you’re done. The next few hours are spent with wrenches, screwdrivers, and caulk. Garbage disposal – done and functioning. You’ll be able to grind chicken bones with that baby. Eddie puts in a new faucet in the bathroom and notices that the showerhead is still dripping. He noticed it the last time he was in your place. He came prepared. He bought a massaging, detachable head and puts it in for you as a surprise. You deserve it. The last thing on the official list is replacing the parts inside of your toilet tank. It just needs a new flapper valve, but Eddie’s doing the whole work. Easy fix. He could show you, but then you wouldn’t need him next time. He could show Rick, but Rick’s not interested in manual labor. Rick can afford to pay a plumber to come and do the work that would take a total of 20 minutes to complete with a basic knowledge of how a toilet tank functions. That’s below Rick.
Taking care of you would never be below Eddie. He would do anything to make sure you have everything you need to be happy. He bought that shower head for you because Robin had mentioned how much she loved hers. When Steve told him why she loved hers, Eddie knew he had to get you one. He ran his fingers against the nozzle head after the installation was finished. He stroked it, imagining you standing under it, the water running down your skin.
Eddie’s next movements are without thought behind them. The need guides him. He undresses completely, leaving a pile of clothes sitting on the toilet seat. He steps into the shower, your shower, and turns the water to warm. His hair is pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck, and he decides to let it loose. He has time. You won’t be back for hours, his hair will be dry by then. Every bottle in this shower smells of you. So, he lathers. He lets the suds of your honey body wash clean off the sweat and dirt of the day. The pink bottles of Salon Selectives are what he uses to massage his scalp. He works the shampoo into his skin, he wants the scent to last for at least a couple of days. He wants to think of you when catches the scent from his own head.
Eddie luxuriates under the warm trickle of water. He lets himself think of you. He reaches into his mind to remember the way your touch feels against his skin when you squeeze his arm. He lets the lingering scent of your lost panties re-enter his nasal cavity. He thinks about the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you give him one of your big smiles. He thinks about all of this, letting his cock grow. He tugs at himself, just a little bit, to really let himself start to feel something.
He has a ferocious erection when he steps out of the shower and reaches for your silky bathrobe. It hangs on a plastic hook on the inside of your bathroom door. It’s white, and he lets himself think about how you look wearing it as he slips it over his damp skin. It’s so soft, as soft as you are. He’s being directed by his cock now, his brain is more than empty. It does not exist. His chores are done, and he hours before you’ll be home.
Your room. The untidiest room in the house, but still neat. He sets his pile of clothes on your dresser. That’s where he spots your tube of lipstick and your perfume bottle. Kismet. He takes the tube of Avon Apricot Freeze and delicately applies it to his lips. It’s the shade you’re wearing today, he recognizes it from your coffee mug. Eddie is careful when he handles the triangle shaped bottle of Claibourne perfume. He brings it to his nose and inhales deeply. It’s you, yes, but it’s lacking something. He spritzes it against his neck where he knows he’ll be able to smell it while he enjoys himself.
His next stop is the hamper that sits beside your dresser. He knows what he’ll find there, he watched you on your run this morning. The underwear sits atop a week’s worth of dirty laundry. A quick sniff tells him that, yes, you wore them while the sweat clung to your body. His erection twitches against the silky robe while he takes a deep breath. His eyes roll back in his head, and he knows it’s time to let himself feel the full height of his pleasure.
What the perfume is lacking can be found on your pillowcase. Your fuller scent lingers there. Your worn underwear sits against his tongue and lips while he lays his chest down on your soft mattress, a pillow folded under his hips to create a fold that will hold his cock. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your robe – he is lost in you. With his eyes closed, he can almost imagine you’re here with him. He can almost imagine the way your heat would feel wrapped around his cock.
It's so good. So perfect in your place. He’s teased himself for hours thinking about this moment, and his body moves with furious intent in your bed. He’s listening to you say his name inside his mind, over and over while his cock rubs against the pillow under him. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Yes, it’s what you would say if he had you here. If he plunged himself deeper and deeper inside of you. If he wrapped his mouth around your nipple instead of around this piece of fabric. Eddie, Eddie, please. I want you so much. You’re such a good boy.
Eddie’s orgasm hits him like a truck. His hips leap with no rhythm. They are searching while his cum is expelled from him with more force than he’s ever experienced before. More pleasure than he ever felt with Sandra, the girl that left him when she said he was spending too much time worrying about the old lady next door. His bucking hips slow after what feels like an eternity of ecstasy. A never ending stream of seed, while the sweat on his back is making the silk fabric of the robe stick to his skin. He allows himself a moment. A beat to lay in his post orgasm haze. Bliss unrivaled by any other feeling he’s ever had in his entire existence. Laying there with the ghost scent of you in your bed. In your home.
--
When you pull into the trailer park, it’s half past 4. You’re ready for a shower. It’s getting sticky out, and your hot flashes have started increasing. 45 years old, and your body has decided to become a mystery to you. You vaguely remember that Eddie might still be at your place, and resign yourself to the idea that the shower might have to wait until after you feed him. It’s worth it, though. He deserves at least a home cooked meal and the six pack you have in the trunk of your car.
You open the door to your place to find it in exactly the same condition you left it in. It needs dusting, but it’ll have to wait. As you walk through the kitchen, you notice the breakfast dishes sitting in the drying rack and smile. He really is an angel. There’s a note on the counter.
Howdy neighbor,
I have to run out to do a few errands. I’ll be back around 6. I hope you enjoy the surprise I left for you in the bathroom.
Eddie
Everything is clean. It’s like no one was ever here. You look around and spot it, a new shower head. He didn’t just fix the constant dripping, he replaced the whole thing. Angel. It feels incredible when you step into it. The massage feature is a gift you hadn’t expected. The warm water washes away the day from your body, and you silently praise Eddie’s handiwork while you let the honey scented body wash foam between your fingers.
Your bathrobe isn’t in its place, which is odd, but you must have left it in your room. You grab a towel from the shelf above the toilet and wrap it around your body. Sweatpants and a sweater are a comfort to your tired muscles. You finally register the sound that’s been in the background since you got home. Your dryer is running. He even did a load of laundry for you. You’re going to have to make him his own pie this weekend.
It was so warm and soft, a quick and tender embrace. It was friendly, innocent. Eddie relished it. He let himself focus on the feeling of your arms around his waist, the way your hair brushed against his face, the clean scent of soap from your post work shower. He reached and searched in those couple of seconds, determined to take as much from the moment as possible. To let it fuel his need.
He took that moment, that embrace, with him as he left your trailer along with the Dutch apple pie you made for him. It was still warm from the oven as you placed it in his hands. Those weren’t the only things Eddie took with him. The metal was burning a hole in his pocket while you hugged him goodnight. He fought against his body while his arousal kicked up at your touch, and he promised himself - soon.
It’s beautiful. Eddie almost feels bad about cutting into it. The apple syrup bubbled up around the brown sugar crumble crust during baking and there are pieces of crystallized sugar sprinkled about the top. He’s thinking about you cutting the apples, he’s thinking about your fingers working the pie crust. Sprinkling sugar and cinnamon.
Eddie’s hard. It’s not only the memory of your warmth against him, or the cinnamon and sugar scent invading his nostrils, but also the soft silk panties he’s wearing. Like the other things he’s taken, he’ll return them back of course, but how could he resist when they were out in the open like that? Freshly worn and resting atop today’s work clothes inside your bathroom. He had only meant to wash his hands before dinner, but instead he took off his boxers and replaced them with your pretty underwear. Underwear that had so recently held your heat against them. He needed it.
Eddie knows what he plans to do despite the fact that he is not consciously acknowledging it. It’s as if he loses control of his bodily movements at times like these. The empty trailer, Wayne’s gone for the week on a fishing trip, is an open invitation for the experience he has mapped out in his mind. He sets the scene, taking his time. His body is still tired from earlier, but the temptation of the still warm apple pie is impossible to resist.
Eddie pulls a knife out of the drawer, cool metal against the warm skin of his fingers, and he cuts a slice of the crumbling dessert. He leaves it in the pan and immediately walks to his bedroom. His window is still open, the curtains blow in the breeze of the summer evening. It smells like rain will come before too long. The lights are always low in his room, but he opts for turning them off completely before he undresses. Just in case.
Your bedroom window is directly across from his own, and when the evenings are cool it’s possible to hear things. Soft music sometimes wafts through Eddie’s open window. He’s hoping to hear some of the sweet noises he occasionally hears on nights like these. Not the sounds of love making when Rick visits, but the sounds of quiet pleasure when it’s just your own car parked in front of your home. Eddie likes to think that maybe sometimes you can hear him, and hopes that it helps you along when your fingers are deep inside yourself. Maybe you even think of his ringed fingers during those times.
A man can dream.
Eddie reaches into the back pocket of his jeans before he lays them on the chair in the corner of his room where the rest of his clothes are resting. His nipples are already peaked with excitement. The small pieces of gold jewelry sit in the palm of his hand while a flash of disgust threatens to ruin his plans. He finds the strength to push it back. Let it sit way back in his mind until after. After he can let those feelings of shame come out to play, but not until after he’s had his fun.
Eddie’s cock is pressed against the silk fabric of your underwear, and the cool air of the room combined with the arousal the head is already leaking, it feels like a gentle kiss. There’s a twitch, an answer to that thought, and Eddie turns his focus back to the clip on earrings he smuggled out of your trailer. They are not the kind designed to gently cling to the lobes of your ears. No. These are the kind that are designed to pinch, an aggressive assurance that they won’t be lost at some point during the day. When Eddie attaches the first one to his left nipple, it’s an immediate and intense pain that only kicks up his arousal. His cock jumps with each zing of pain and pleasure, and he has a distant concern that he’ll come just from the feeling alone. With deep breaths, he manages to calm himself before doing it all over again with the right nipple.
Eddie’s back is sweating, and his cock feels weighed down with the cum he’s holding back. It won’t take much coaxing for him to erupt. He can feel an orgasm creeping behind his eyes, in his throat, deep in his guts. From an outsider’s perspective, he would look absurd. Even more so as he rests his ass, still covered by soft panties, on the large terry cloth towel he has laid down on his sheets in preparation. It’s going to be messy, and he’s happy that he has the forethought to prepare. He’ll be very tired when it’s over.
Eddie lays his head on his pillow, pulling his curls over so that he can lay on his side. His nose can smell the shampoo he used earlier. Your shampoo. It’s so lovely, and it helps Eddie imagine that it’s your hair that his nose is pressed into. His nipples are still shooting zings of painful pleasure as Eddie uses one hand to scoop out the piece of sliced pie from the tin, and the other to release his aching cock from the prison of your silky panties. The first bite of pie is almost a religious experience for him. The apples are still slightly crispy, but the juices have mixed in with the sugar and streusel topping.
Eddie had not planned what he did next, it was a natural instinct. His need took over his movements again. Instead of wrapping his hand around his aching cock, he slid his palm under the pie tin and pressed the pastry against himself. The tip of his cock is immediately surrounded by the warm, sticky filling. It feels incredible, and he’s shocked to realize it feels surprisingly like a mouth.
All at once, he’s groaning around the pie at his mouth while his cock pushes itself through the mess of apples, sugar, and streusel. His body is crying out, the pleasure soaring through him. His taste buds are dancing, his nipples are screaming, his hips are thrusting his cock into that open mouth. Brown sugar coats his thatch of pubic hair, raining down from his gluttonous self pleasure. In no time, he spills himself into the pie dish, his cum and the pie filling creating a combination of flavors that would make Betty Crocker roll over in her grave. The piece of unfinished pie has somehow ended up mashed in Eddie's wild curls. He’s sticky from the sweat and sugary confection.
After the bliss wanes, Eddie first removes the earrings, allowing his nipples to rest. The vibrating pleasure immediately ceases, and he can breathe normally. The come down is a crash as he envisions this moment captured in a still image.
Eddie Munson, in his bed, ass being hugged by a pair of silk underwear, covered in streusel and apple pie filling. It’s with a sigh that almost sounds like a groan that Eddie scoops out a handful from the pie tin and brings it to his mouth. He licks the mess from between his fingers, the sweetest pie he’s ever tasted, and the faintest hint of himself mixed within.
#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#chesty fic#perv!eddie munson#eddie munson x fem!reader
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Art of Turning 30
“So, am I allowed to talk?” Annabelle gave an awkward little laugh, that she immediately wanted to stuff back into her mouth. “I’ve never done this before!”
“You can talk.” Julian flashed her a quick, reassuring smile. “At least until I tell you not to.”
They both laughed, then. Julian’s laugh was not awkward.
It was six months until her thirtieth birthday.
She had met him at her girlfriend Camille’s twenty-ninth birthday party, a few weeks ago, only to be surprised that they’d somehow never crossed paths before. London was big, but it wasn’t that big surely, and Julian was an artist.
Annabelle felt like she spent half her free time at artsy bohemian parties and amateur gallery openings, though maybe that was why. He wasn’t an amateur, was he?
She’d looked him up online after and seen several shining reviews of his first exhibition, and a rosy buzz of anticipation at what he’d do next.
She remembered that buzz. People used to get that buzz when they talked about her. Apparently, his work was ‘visceral’ and ‘felt startlingly alive’.
It seemed impossible that he wanted to paint her, of all people.
Annabelle shifted on the stool, glancing around Julian’s studio space as he finished setting up his easel and paints. Oils. He’d said he was using oils. That mattered in painting, didn’t it?
The studio was everything she’d always imagined a professional artist’s studio to be. It was quite large, with clean wooden floors and white walls crowded with stacks of sheet-covered canvases in progress.
There was only one that was ready and visible; a painting of a beautiful blond man, probably nearing thirty too, lounging on the same stool that Annabelle was perched upon. He gazed out at the viewer with a hungry sort of hope. Like they were the best thing he had ever seen.
The studio smelled like drying paint and the sandalwood diffuser wafting its calming scent from the window sill. Sunlight coated the room like honey, or gold.
“You’re not going to make me look ugly, are you?” she asked.
He smiled again, meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly.”
He probably flirted with all of his models, but she still felt a blush of heat rise to her face.
He looked like he could be in a painting, or one of those classical sculptures still concerned with archetypal ideals of beauty. Of course, she was with Camille, so nothing would happen…but still. The attention made her heart pound. Camille was usually too tired from work to flirt with her anymore.
Annabelle wasn’t sure how good she’d be at seeing a painting of herself that she hated, and not letting it show on her face. She’d probably tear up. It would be embarrassing for both of them. She shifted on the stool once more, and tugged at the hem of her summer dress.
“This is for your next exhibition?”
“I think I’m going to call it ‘The Art of Turning 30’.”
“Explains why I’m your muse instead of some gorgeous twenty two year old ingenue.” She laughed again. He did not. She continued, even as she willed herself to stop babbling, because he wasn’t looking at her with the expectation that she do anything. He plucked up a pencil, beginning his work. “It’s like, when you’re a woman, after you turn thirty your life is over, right? It’s like with my acting. And then by the time you’re forty all of a sudden all you can possibly be is, like, a mother or a witch. Or, you know, the dead wife. It’s all downhill.”
“You wouldn’t want to be a witch?” He raised a brow. “They always seemed pretty powerful to me. I could see you as a witch.”
“But do you know what I mean?”
“Can you turn your head a little the left, please?”
“What? Oh. Yes.”
She turned her head to the side, towards the window, and hoped the sunshine made her seem younger rather than highlighting every growing crag and wrinkle.
She could only watch him out of her periphery vision now; a wistful muse, seemingly unaware that she was being observed. She tried to look deep and mysterious.
“Perfect,” he said. “Thanks. You’re just perfect.”
The canvas of the blond man fell to the floor with a soft thump.
Annabelle jumped.
“Sorry.” Julian shook his head, another easy laugh on his breath. “The landlord never lets me put proper hangings on the wall here. Says it wrecks them. I guess so long as they don’t do that at the exhibition?”
“I don’t know, you could probably play it off as a stunt…lean into the photorealism.”
“Now, there’s an idea. Genius.”
She probably didn’t look deep and mysterious. She probably just looked smitten.
***
She sat for Julian three times a week for the next several months.
It became a pocket of peace in her life, the hours when it was okay to finally stop and be for a while, because everything else seemed to be hurtling through her fingers faster than she could clutch hold of it.
She’d always imagined that she would be a successful, or at least up-and-coming, actress and screenwriter by the time she turned thirty.
Sure, women only made up around 30% of the directors or writers behind the camera, but back in school everyone always said that maybe she’d be the one to change that. She wasn’t entirely sure when they stopped saying it, but they had.
It was three months until her thirtieth birthday.
“Here.” Julian caught hold of her chin, featherlight, angling her back towards the sun. The days were getting shorter. Time was running out for them both. “You were like this.”
She had got in the habit of always sitting a little wrong, because he’d always adjust her, oh so careful and attentive, like she was his masterpiece.
She would have probably preferred to be her own masterpiece, but being his seemed like the second best option. She could practically feel the ghosts of forgotten, underappreciated female muses-past screaming at her that no, it was always better to be somebody than someone’s, but frankly she wasn’t sure she could be picky.
She’d been getting less and less call backs, and was starting to feel more like she was a part-time waitress dabbling at film than a part-time actress-filmmaker working hours in hospitality to make ends meet.
It was like a window was closing. Her window. That morning she’d found an honest to the devil grey hair on her head!
Camille told her that she was being ridiculous – that she’d become increasingly vain since Julian started painting her.
Annabelle had snapped back that vanity wasn’t vanity for an actress. Her looks were her currency.
It hadn’t always been so hard, had it?
All in all, it didn’t seem like a sin to let him touch her. It was nice to be touched. There was nothing untoward in that.
She peeked up at Julian, standing over her, his star ever on the rise. Their stares met again. He smiled that quick, reassuring smile of his.
“You look tired,” he said softly.
“Sorry.”
“No, no.” He widened his eyes. “I didn’t mean—” he huffed gently, and let go of her. “I haven’t got to your mouth yet. If you want to talk about it.”
Annabelle grinned back before she could stop herself.
It had become a standing joke. She sometimes felt she spent their whole time together talking about herself, but he always said it was interesting and made the hours fly. He was a very good listener.
More privately, she sometimes suspected that he was leaving her mouth for last just so they could continue chatting, but she wasn’t allowed to see the painting to check. The thought was thrilling though.
“It’s nothing,” she said, even if she already knew she’d probably tell him everything on her mind. “I don’t know.”
What would she do when the painting was done? She’d see him at his exhibition opening, probably, but there would hardly be a reason for them spend time together like they did when she was sitting for her portrait.
Maybe it was silly to consider him one of her friends. She’d miss it, though. She’d miss him.
Maybe he’d want to do another one of her, but who was she kidding? Maybe in ten years, when he did a gimmicky but charming follow up. The Art of Turning 40: Where Are They Now?
What did he know about turning thirty anyway? He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He had loads of time.
“There’s an intimacy,” he murmured, “to painting someone. Especially like this, in the old fashioned way. A lot of people use photographs and quick studies because they’re more convenient and you don’t have to catch the right light, you know? But I love it.” The air filled with their breathing, and the soothing dab of his paint brushes on his palette, mixing up the colours of her. “You really get to know people this way. It adds soul to the work. It’s magic.”
She felt, more than saw, his gaze cut over her again. Her blood was electric beneath his scrutiny.
He continued, softly.
“I knew from the moment we met that I wanted you to be my centrepiece for this one.”
“Flatterer.”
“It’s true!” He laughed. “You have this great energy. I knew you were going to be interesting, and I was right. And you know how to model well. Because you’re an actress, right? You’re used to people looking at you.”
An actress, no ‘wannabe’ or ‘aspiring’ or ‘failed’ tacked on front. She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him as best she could without turning her head.
“My boss always says I should have more energy, then I’d wait tables faster.”
“What does Camille say?”
“Camille—” Annabelle blinked in surprise, then swallowed. Her hands curled in her lap. She resisted the urge to sigh.
“Uh-oh.”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s fine. I just – she thinks if I’m not happy I should do something about it. She’s always telling me about other things I’d be really good at that have better pay, or more sociable hours.”
“So, give up on your dreams already.”
“Yeah.”
Annabelle deflated. She knew that Camille didn’t mean anything bad by it, but that was what it implied, right? She was never going to be a famous and successful actress or screenwriter, so she should settle for something manageable.
“Well, she’s not a creative, like us,” Julian said. “She doesn’t get it.”
Like us. Annabelle was a horrible girlfriend for feeling a swell of pleasure at that. It was true, though. Still.
“We’ve been together for a really long time, and she’s been really supportive. I think she’s just finding the whole ‘me turning thirty’ thing annoying. Mainly because I won’t shut up about it. Which I’m sure you sympathise with!”
Camille said that anyone who claimed life stopped at thirty was an idiot. There was no limit for potential, no one age where everyone had to have their life together and perfect by.
She was probably right, but Annabelle could still feel the panic of it clawing at her the closer her birthday got. Even if she was successful after thirty, she wouldn’t be one of those young geniuses that everyone had expected her to be. She wouldn’t be exceptional.
She would just be Annabelle. It didn’t feel like enough. Maybe if she could see herself like Julian apparently saw her, it would be better.
“Chin up,” Julian said.
Annabelle cleared her throat again. “Right, yeah.”
“No, I mean.” His voice was deadpan. “Your head. You’ve moved. Drooped.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. The melancholy shoved itself down again in the pit of her stomach.
He tossed her a wink from behind the easel, to indicate he was joking. Only trying to cheer her up and lighten the mood.
“So, I still don’t get to see what else you’re working on, huh?” she asked.
“I’d have to kill you.” He switched to another, smaller brush in her periphery vision.
She snorted.
“It would be very inconvenient all around,” he said. “Rigor mortis sets in fast. I’d never get the painting done in time.”
“Well we can’t have that. After you’re finished with me then, I suppose.”
“Our art is a part of us, Annabelle.” He shot her another glance in turn, brush poised above his image of her, considering. “So how, then, could I ever truly be finished with you?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. She debated possible responses to that, and how he could have meant it. Her body felt warm and flushed.
He gestured that she angle her head left once more, not looking away for a second himself.
Annabelle turned.
The summer waned outside the window, but in the painting she would still be in her sundress, legs tanned and toes painted sky blue.
Thank god he kept his studio warm. The minutes ticked by, the air between them settling tranquil once more.
“Sometimes,” she said, softly, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Freeze the moment. Is that stupid?” It felt a confessional thing to say. Bold.
“No.” She could hear the equally soft smile in his voice. “It’s not stupid. Isn’t that how I got you to agree to do me this favour?”
She remembered the party; an adult version of what they all used to do, even if it still felt like they were all pretending to be grown-ups. Or at least, Annabelle felt like she was pretending. She didn’t feel twenty-nine.
She’d clutched her glass of wine and hovered near a somewhat strained conversation about mortgages and the state of the housing market, and how none of them were going to be on the property ladder before they were fifty, before she caught sight of Julian coming in.
She echoed his words, and didn’t have to fake her wistfulness that time.
“To be remembered in art is the closest any humans’ get to immortality.”
He echoed the next line back at her. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
And she’d said yes.
***
“I’ve got a date for the exhibition,” Julian said, from behind his easel. “A few weeks after your birthday. Short notice, I know. Soz.”
“Ugh, don’t mention the B word. But that’s exciting! Can I come?”
“Of course you can come,” he said. “It’s why I’m telling you. This wouldn’t be possible without you.”
“I mean, while sitting here is terribly difficult,” she said, “I do feel like you should get some of the credit. Just some.”
She heard him laugh.
She’d grown to love Julian’s laugh; he was so ready to do it, at least in their sessions.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Camille laugh at something she said. Then again, she wasn’t sure the last time she and Camille had spent all that much time together.
By the time Camille got back from a day of teaching, Annabelle was usually already out for the night shift at the pub she waited in. Yet another thing in her life that wasn’t working like it was supposed to!
Camille said that could be worked on if, hey, Annabelle was willing to actually prioritise their relationship.
It had been one of their worst arguments to date.
“There’ll be thirty paintings in total, I think,” he mused, more talkative than normal. “Yours being the main one, like I said.”
“I’m sure you will perfectly capture the raw turmoil of turning thirty.”
He laughed again. It had been one of the most notable reviews of his first exhibition – except the exact wording had been that his work perfectly captured ‘the raw turmoil of adolescence, as an emotional and nostalgic period of change and growth’.
He’d finally caved and showed her some of his previous pieces, other than the ones she’d managed to find online, as a compromise of his refusal to show her how his painting of her was coming along.
Most of the individual pieces from his first exhibit had been sold off, but he’d kept the main one.
His main piece – Girl On Swing – got the most praise, so it had apparently been a bit of a scandal that he hadn’t sold it. He’d had offers.
It was a triptych (Julian’s word) of a girl, unsurprisingly, on a swing.
In the first of three paintings she was a child, carefree and giggling. In the second, a young teenager, her face a storm of emotion. In the final one, she was a young adult, caught mid-leap flying off the swing she’d been sitting on for seemingly eighteen years. Her arms were painted halfway to transitioning to a bird’s wings. She was no longer looking back at the viewer but forward, to all that life had to offer.
Annabelle wondered what people would say about Julian’s version of her.
People liked to fantasise about how amazing being a teenager was when they were an adult, but she hadn’t met anyone who fantasied about turning thirty. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous.
She hoped he made her glamorous.
“Of course,” he was continuing, “with the date so near, we might need a few more sessions to get finished on time.”
She looked over at him again, then, even if she wasn’t supposed to be moving.
The golden light danced across his handsome features, and caught the edges of the canvases behind him. There were twenty nine of them waiting.
“I make a pretty good lasagne,” he said, biting his lip. “If I say so myself. Compensation. If you don’t mind finishing late. There’s also a nice wine I got for Christmas that I really couldn’t drink alone.”
“I don’t mind,” she heard herself saying, before she’d even thought about it. “I don’t mind at all.”
“It’s a good venue,” he said. “A really good venue. Everyone’s going to love you.”
With him, maybe, the window wouldn’t close.
***
“I’m done, except for the varnish.”
The words sent a bolt through her, stirring away the sleepy content that came with posing for an extended period of time. She felt seen. Now, though, she wanted to see. Finally.
It was the day before her thirtieth birthday, and Camille had a massive surprise party planned, that Annabelle was both pretending that she didn’t know about, and dreading like a punch to the gut.
It was sweet that Camille was doing it. But also, maybe, if she didn’t celebrate the date she could still, somehow, be in her twenties for another year. That was how it worked, right?
“You are?” She leapt off the stool, and felt her joints click. “Can I see? I feel like I should have a right to see before everyone else. I won’t tell anyone.”
“It is top secret.” He pretended to consider.
She took the opportunity to relish actually looking at him for once; there was a kiss of red on the cuff of his painting shirt that hadn’t yet dried. It was the exact colour of her lipstick. She smiled.
He really had left her mouth for last.
“Fine,” he said, and gestured her over, eyes bright with amusement. “But only because I know you won’t tell.”
In the short space of walking over, Annabelle had time to feel her stomach clench. Her old fears boiled nauseously to the surface.
What if it was awful?
What if it wasn’t what she wanted, as if that had ever been the point?
What if her immortality looked like the part-time waitress she didn’t want to be?
She would have to keep a straight face, and not hurt his feelings. He’d been working on it for so long. It would ruin everything if he knew she hated it. It would no doubt be technically very skilled. She should have researched painting techniques she could comment on.
She rounded the easel, a little dizzy.
His hand fell on the small of her back, thumb tracing the curve of her hip, idly almost.
She stared.
Her painted self was lovely. So alive, as if thirty couldn’t possibly contain her.
It was not as realistic as ‘Girl On Swing’ though.
She was caught in the motion of talking, hands gesturing animatedly in the air despite her best efforts of posing, and though her face was turned towards the light of the window it was as clear as confession that her eyes were always turning towards him, trying to steal a glimpse.
She looked at him, at the viewer, like he was the best thing she had ever seen.
Camille would see the painting too.
She had already said that she had to come to the opening, especially ‘after all the time her girlfriend had spent with this Julian fellow instead of her.’
Annabelle swallowed.
The perfect bubble burst.
She released a shaky breath, abruptly more aware of his hand through the thin material of her dress.
They hadn’t done anything.
Even the night when she ended up staying over at his, after lasagne and wine, they hadn’t done anything.
The painting made it look like they had, though. She wasn’t even sure she could accuse Julian of exactly making it up, either.
He had painted the truth. Raw. Even when it would have been politer to hide it.
“Oh,” she said. “Wow. Um. Julian—”
“Happy Birthday,” he murmured. “For tomorrow.”
His hand moved up to the back of her neck and all of the colours of the painting swirled and rushed forward to meet her.
“Oh, and Annabelle?” His voice sounded very far away. “This is the bit where you stop talking.”
***
Annabelle had been thirty for nearly a month. Well, not exactly.
They all said that she looked amazing. So realistic.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her body. But, she could watch, from her frame.
She’d watched as Julian approached her with a paintbrush dipped in varnish – to seal the work – and she’d watched with her world turned sideways as they carried her canvas from the studio to the gallery.
She’d watched as they hung her up on the wall and made comments about her like she wasn’t there at all.
She’d screamed, too, or tried to. They hadn’t been able to hear her.
Julian had approached her again when they were alone, hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed and pleased with himself.
“It’s a good trick, isn’t it? I’ve always had the knack of turning people into portraits.” He’d flashed her the same quick, reassuring smile he always did as he peered up at her. “As I said, it’s all about getting to know the person. Getting them to pour their soul out to you.”
He’d laughed, like he so often did, only this time it was at his own joke instead of hers. Or maybe she had always been the joke.
“I did worry for a moment that I wouldn’t be finished in time. But, don’t worry. We made it. You’re twenty-nine forever! Just like you wanted. Just like I promised. I’m not that cruel.”
She’d wanted to tell him that this was not what she’d wanted. She wanted to ask a million questions. She wanted to punch him.
Instead, Annabelle watched as Camille stepped into the exhibition room, on opening night.
She watched Camille scan the crowd, feverishly, expecting her to be there.
She watched as Camille’s attention snagged on the vast painting of her across the room.
God, Camille.
Her girlfriend made a beeline over. It had been an age since Annabelle had last looked at her, properly looked at her, hadn’t it?
Camille’s face crumpled a little as she studied the portrait; a myriad of regret and fear and confusion. Hurt. Her eyes were red and swollen like she’d been crying. She raised one hand towards Annabelle’s life-sized face, as if to touch, but didn’t. Her fists curled at her sides instead.
Guilt twisted in Annabelle’s gut. Camille looked exactly like how one might when learning that their girlfriend had cheated on them.
She felt an absurd surge of hope, despite everything, that Camille might see her where no one other than Julian had. The portrait, for all of its intimacies, suggested a grand love affair. People didn’t vanish fairly from grand love affairs, they just didn’t! It was suspicious, right? He was the last person to see her. The proof was in the painting!
Camille stared at her for a moment longer, her jaw set with grim determination. Then she scrubbed a hand over her face. Her shoulders hunched against some unbearable, undefinable weight. Her dark hair was greasy with worry.
“I’ll find you,” Camille still whispered. “I swear, I’ll find you.”
Annabelle’s stomach sank.
“No, Camille—” Of course, the words didn't come out. Nothing did.
She’d had been such an idiot, hadn’t she?
She felt a fresh stab of longing for that surprise birthday party.
How long had they waited for her to arrive? Waited for her.
Had Camille reported her missing? There would be no body to find, no evidence. The painting, the wanting limited eyes she looked out of, felt like a mockery.
Maybe the life she had with Camille hadn’t been perfect, not by a long shot, but at least they’d been alive. At least they’d been real.
Camille began to turn away.
“Please.” Annabelle’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry. I’m here, please. Don’t leave me! Camille!”
More attendees bustled to claim prime spot in front of the painting, murmuring about how talented Julian was, speculating on if Annabelle was his lover. Camille flinched.
“It makes me feel,” one of gallery attendees said, “like I’m interrupting them in a private moment, you know? Of course, it’s so Julian that she’s not actually a nude—”
She couldn’t see Camille anymore.
She was never going to see Camille again, was she?
CAMILLE. CAMILLE. CAMILLE.
Annabelle screamed it with everything she had, every atom of her, with the absolute certainty that if her girlfriend walked out the gallery door that Annabelle would never escape the painting.
She would never get to say sorry, or kiss Camille, or tell her properly that nothing had happened or would ever have happened, despite what she may have let her foolish heart feel.
She’d just liked the way he looked at her.
She didn’t want to stop the clock.
She wanted her life back, to live.
The painting hit the floor of the exhibition with an almighty crash.
Everyone scattered back. Red wine spilled like a crime scene against the polished floor.
Camille whirled back around too, alone a few metres away, her eyes wide and startled.
Julian appeared, clutching a glass of champagne in one hand.
“Goddamn these hooks. Who set this up? It’s a hazard. Everyone alright?” He looked around at his adoring fans, and summoned up a rueful smile. “I should have just got eyes to follow you all around the room instead, huh?” He looked down at her, where she stared up, in the same narrow periphery vision he’d painted her with. “Really leaned into the photorealism.”
Past him, past his taunts, Camille looked between the two of them. Uncertain misery flashed across her features once more. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it.
Annabelle willed her painted self to move again too, to speak, to do anything. She willed Camille to question, to press, to not give up on them and on her. Not now.
“Camille!” Julian had caught sight of her too, and straightened. He gestured for one of the gallery employees to get Annabelle back into position. “I’m so glad you could make it! Is Annabelle not with you? She was so excited for the exhibition…”
“You haven’t seen her?” Camille’s voice broke. “I – I thought she’d be here, at least. With you.”
“With me?” Julian spoke mildly. Innocently. “No, no. I haven’t seen her. I thought she was with you. Is something wrong?” His tone gentled, as he walked towards Camille. “She mentioned you’d been having some problems…”
“No – it wasn’t like that – Camille—”
Crowds swarmed Annabelle’s painted self once more. She was lifted back on the wall, as if nothing had happened.
"Let me get you a drink," Julian said. "You can tell me everything."
She caught a glimpse of Julian's arm wrapped around Camille's waist. The way she leaned into him, looked up at him. His lips by her ear.
"Camille—"
By the time the room cleared, they were already gone.
#the last of these stories I swear#turning 30#short story#horror#fiction#writing#creative writing#writeblr#getting rid of the archive just in case#idk what to tell you#art#magical realism
493 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pretty Boy
: ̗̀➛ Jason Grace x clearsighted mortal!gn!reader
: ̗̀➛ In which you witness something horrible and wake up wishing it was just a dream, only to be met with the prettiest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on
: ̗̀➛ oh my gods??? hi??? yall absolutely ATE UP my percy fic??? i was actually SO nervous abt posting my writing, but the positive feedback made me so happy :,) also yes, this is set during HoH. do i care? no! piper is a gay icon and im sorry but i clocked in IMMEDIATELY that she wasn’t straight. my gaydar is just THAT good. also, i’m not entirely the biggest fan of this piece, but i believe in posting what i make. i use it as progress markers :)
: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS: probably out of character, near allusions to a panic attack (mr stapler eater thwarts it quickly 😌), jason being FINE.
‘oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!’ you think to yourself as you stare, unable to tear your eyes away from the Neptune statue that you frequently found yourself at this summer.
you watch as two weird furry things giggle and laugh at two boys. you don’t understand any of what’s happening right now, but you do know that whatever those weird ass creatures are, they stole the boys belongings.
you’ve never been the type to just let people get harassed, even if you don’t know them, or if their harassers are… four foot tall furry things… “hey! those don’t belong to you!” you growl at the creatures, stepping out of the shadows of the alleyway and approaching the broken fountain.
you let out a startled squeak as the shorter boy lights his hands on fire out of shock and defence when you approach. the sound that left your body as well as the EVERYTHING happening around you somehow distracted you from the telltale feeling of lightning preparing to strike on you.
in a flash, golden cords extend from Neptunes fingers, wrapping mostly around the blond boy. one of them misses the brunet, only to latch itself onto you.
just as you’re caught up in the tight golden cords, your body pressed tightly against the blond boy’s, a bolt of lightning strikes Neptunes trident, and suddenly the world went black.
vaguely, you can hear someone telling you to wake up, almost as if they were in a panic. thinking it was your mother trying to tell you that you’re going to be late for school, despite it being july, you curl yourself tighter into the nearest surface.
‘wait a damn minute…’ you think to yourself briefly. ‘this… this isn’t my pillow or my blanket…’
your eyes fly open, and are met with the clearest blue you’ve ever seen. theyre so blue that you weren’t sure if you were looking at the sky for a split second. and then it all comes rushing back.
“oh my god!” you cry, your voice shaking with confusion. it was real? why did it have to be real? why couldn’t this whole thing have just been a dream??
the pretty blond boy was clearly panicking a bit himself. “hey! hey! calm down, it’s okay!” he says over your panicky breathing. “my name is Jason. everything is oka— breathe, dude oh my gods calm down?!”
well that snapped you out of it.
“excuse me?!” you snap, your eyes narrowing with distaste. “don’t you tell me to calm down when i’m hanging upside down with some himbo lookin’ ass who’s acting like this is a regular ole thursday!”
the boy, Jason, bites his lip to stifle a laugh. if he wasn’t so damn attractive, you would’ve been incredibly offended. “sorry.” he giggles.
as you study his face, your own softens slightly. Jason didn’t portray it with his heart on his sleeve, but looking deeper into those mesmerizing clear blue eyes, you could see the horrors. something tells you that he doesn’t get to let loose very often.
“y/n.” you say, much softer than before. “my name is y/n.”
Jason smiles, and the small scar on his lip twitches. briefly, you wonder what the story behind it is. “it’s nice to meet you, y/n. i’m Jason. i wish it could’ve been under better circumstances.” he offers kindly.
you scoff and roll your eyes with a hint of fondness. “yea yea. you know how to get us out of this, Pretty Boy?” you ask with a small, slightly nervous smile.
Jason chokes, clearly not expecting the compliment. “er- yea. uh, just… don’t freak out when i pull out my sword.” he says sheepishly.
your eyes widen. sword?! before you even realize it, there’s a satisfying shrng! of metal in the air. Jason’s golden blade cuts through the cords that hold the two of you up and you tumble to the ground.
you wince and cradle your head. “ow…” you murmur, a frown on your lips.
despite you CLEARLY being in pain, Jason laughs at you softly. he offers you his hand to help you up, and with a shy smile, you take it. “these streets probably aren’t that safe right now… let me walk you back to… er… wherever you came from?” he offers kindly.
you can’t help but chuckle now yourself. “oh, sure, let’s walk to america.” you say with a snort as you begin to walk down the pretty streets of italy with an equally pretty boy. “won’t your friend need help, though?”
Jason shrugs your worry off. “nah, Leo’s fine. he’s as resourceful as they come.” he tells you with a smirk.
you nod and continue walking. “so i assume that there’s a reason i could see those weird things?” you ask softly, almost afraid of the answer.
Jason nods stiffly. he opens his mouth to answer you, but you don’t hear it. you’re too busy staring at him. at those clear, electric blue eyes that are shielded by a pair of glasses and hide so much pain. his soft looking pink lips and the scar along them. his windswept blond hair, as though he’d been flying through the sky without any protection. the way he talks and walks, as if he’s been trained his whole life to be a diplomat.
jesus christ, this boy is pretty as they come.
when you finally tear your eyes away from him, you frown. you’re somehow at the home your family has rented for the summer. already?
“thank you, for walking me back.” you say to him shyly as you look back into his gorgeous eyes.
Jason’s cheeks light pink, just barely, but enough that you can see. “of course. it’s no problem.” he responds as he rubs the back of his head nervously. “take care of yourself, okay, y/n?”
you nod and say your farewells, watching him as he turns and runs back the way you walked, intent on finding his friend. you wonder if you’ll ever see him again, if the fates will ever allow you to cross paths with such a beautiful person ever again.
your eyes fall as you watch him leave, but snap back up quickly. damn! he has a nice ass, too…
#ೃ⁀➷ wrens writings#ೃ⁀➷ wrens ramblings#ೃ⁀➷ wrens tidbits#jason grace x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#house of hades#pjo
109 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s All Yours | Davin McDerby x fem!reader
prompt: car sex with davin lol (NSFW, no minors)
WARNINGS: slight references to sunburn plot, fingering, brief nipple play, unprotected sex (p in v), car sex, slight praise/degradation??, slight come eating
word count: 1.9k
roberts party was a bust. as soon as carolyn returned home, everyone quickly fled the scene. what originally started as a really nice get together, quickly became an overwhelming party, which then got shut down not long after. while everyone else had scattered elsewhere, all there was left was you and davin, sitting in his car. during this summer, a small fling had started to form between you two. nothing too crazy, no sex, barely even kisses, just flirting and palpable mutual attraction.
despite you all coming together as a group, you were alone with just davin, which rarely happened. but, you decided to make the most of the situation.
he broke the silence between you two by asking, “soo .. got any plans for the rest of the night?”
you shake your head no, “do you?”
“hm ..” he thinks, “i dunno, maybe, might try and pick up a girl.” he smirks smugly
you raise your brows, “pick up a girl?”
he nods and sighs, “been a bit of time since i’ve chased some tail, could really do for some company.”
he’s kidding, kind of, you can just tell. in the time you’ve spent together you’ve gotten good at reading him.
“chase some tail..” you repeat, laughing at his choice of words, “what are you? fifty?”
he scoffs, acting fake offended before saying, “you’re just mad that i can even get tail. aren’t you like a virgin?”
you roll your eyes, “no, i’m not, i just don’t normally give it up easy.” you teased,
he licks his lips before taking a moment to reply, looking over at you, “what does it take for you to give it up, y/n?”
“why do you wanna know, mr. mcderby? are you interested in getting in my pants?” you laugh, nudging him playfully,
he doesn’t reply. his eyes are fixated on your face, darting down to your lips every now and then, and finally after what felt like hours- he leaned into kiss you.
although it surprised you, you weren’t opposed in the slightest, eagerly kissing him back.
he moaned softly into your mouth, bringing one of his hands up to your face to cup your cheek. it didn’t stay there long though, as he started to migrate lower, he halts his actions and pulls away.
“is this okay?” he asks, wanting to be absolutely certain that you plan on following through.
you laugh softly at him, “such a gentleman..” you breathed, leaning back in to kiss him again- but he leans away
“if you’re comfortable with keeping this going .. we’re gonna have to move to the back, love ..” he purred, his voice low, but sweet
things started to suddenly become very real, and what initially started as a lingering sense of arousal quickly progressed into a distinct warmth between your legs.
while biting your lip, you crawl into the backseat. once there, you lean back against the car door, watching as davin does the same.
once he’s between your legs, he wastes no time continuing with the kisses, but this time they’re a bit different.
eager. hungry. you can really tell what his intentions are this time. he briefly pulls away again, making you whine in disapproval.
“can i take these off?” he asks, placing his fingers in the waistband of your pants. without saying a word, you lift your hips and indirectly give him your consent. it’s at this point he’s fully solidified that you’re game, and that he likely won’t have to ask for your permission anymore tonight. he slips them off and discards them on the car floor, quickly unzipping his pants to do the same.
you take it upon yourself to strip yourself of your shirt as well, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. he left you in just your undergarments. he grins at you, following your lead and taking off his shirt as well.
he leans back into kiss you. bringing his hips closer to yours and placing his hard, clothed cock directly between your legs. you moan quietly at the sensation, just before he begins to roll his hips. applying a more than satisfactory amount of deliberate pleasure.
your hands start to roam, they started slung around his neck, but they’ve quickly made their way around his upper body. feeling up his pecks, shoulder blades, back, then slowly down to his navel, sneaking your hand into his underwear, directly palming him.
he groans into your mouth before chuckling lowly, “so much for ms. doesn’t give it up easy ..” moving down to kiss your neck, continuing to grind into you.
this only continues on for a few more moments before he pulls back and starts to tug on your underwear, “need these off” he mumbles to himself before dragging them off and tucking them behind him, as opposed to discarding on the floor with the rest of the clothes.
he glares at your exposed, wet pussy and exhales softly, soaking in the sight beneath him. he kisses your neck again, but begins to creep down to your collarbone, and chest, where he pauses for a moment before sucking gently on your nipple, circling his tongue against the hardening bud. he uses his hand to grip the other.
“da-vin ..” you moan weakly, gripping the seat beneath you as you feel yourself becoming even wetter. he hums in approval before snaking his other hand down between your legs, sliding his now slick fingers up and around your clit and opening
you whine and begin to involuntarily shift beneath him. without warning, he slips a finger in, making a high pitched groan escape your lips. he starts to fuck you with the lone digit, taking his mouth off your tit to look at your expression, analyzing you deeply. he wanted to make you feel good, really good. normally when davin hooks up with people he doesn’t give much thought into foreplay, but with you he wanted to make sure you thoroughly enjoyed every single moment of this.
him seeing how much you were enjoying his touch made him harder, which he didn’t even know if that was fully possible.
while still examining your face, he slips in another finger, making your mouth hang open as small breathy moans fell out.
“god, davin!” you huff, he glances down at his fingers, watching himself finger-fuck you. he watches as his fingers glisten from your slick, he can feel you tense around him, he can hear how wet you are, his head is reeling.
he pulls out his fingers and places them into his mouth, sucking the arousal off of them. you watched as he did this, and you realized he wasn’t even doing that for you, he himself needed to taste you. he discarded his own underwear and his hard, flushed cock sprung out, standing to attention with a small bit of his own arousal glistening at his tip. he pumps himself weakly while looking at you, using his free hand to feel around your stomach and hips.
just as he’s about to put himself in, you stop him.
“do you have a condom?” you ask, rather breathlessly. you didn’t want to be a buzzkill right now, but you’d rather be a buzzkill than pregnant.
“not with me, baby” he starts, his voice quiet, him calling you baby made a knot form in your stomach, even though you knew he was only calling you it because of the circumstances, “but i’m clean, and i assume you are too, and i promise on my life i’ll pull out.”
with any other person, you would’ve said no, but davin looked too good and everything felt too nice, so you let it slide.
he resumes, running the head of his cock along your wet opening, groaning at the sensation.
“do you always get this wet? or am i just making you feel that good, baby?” he praises,
“i-i think it’s a mixture of both ..” you reply, finding it hard to make conversation when all you want is for davin to fuck the daylights out of you.
he seems to like that response as he chuckles lowly, slowly sliding himself inside of you, “guess i’m gonna have to use this pussy more often, aren’t i?” he says, leaning into your ear, his hot breath making your body jitter beneath him.
your hands make their way to his back, digging your nails in slightly as he begins to pick up his pace, fucking you roughly.
you feel almost breathless, as if each thrust was pushing all the air out of your lungs.
each time his hips connected with your thighs and ass, a moan would escape your mouth mixed with shallow breaths and small unintelligible phrases.
davins ego was through the roof, he thinks that even if he wasn’t fucking you, if he was just able to see you acting like this- he’d come in his pants. but knowing that him and his cock was making you feel like this, he felt a new sense of pride.
he tries to kiss you while still pounding into you, placing his lips against yours. you don’t kiss him back and continue to whine, not because you don’t want to kiss him back, but because the way he’s fucking you is making it difficult for you to do anything that requires even the slightest bit of brain power. mid kiss, he places his thumb between your legs and rubs quick, tight circles on your clit, making you nearly shout at the overwhelming amount of pleasure.
he’s still trying to kiss you, laughing breathily as you continue to fail to kiss him back. he pulls back, picking up his pace with both the thrusts and his thumb before saying, “poor girl, cock feel too good inside ya? can’t even kiss back because it feels so nice?” he taunts, knowing exactly what’s happening here
he feels you clench around him and drench him even more, making a guttural moan fall from his mouth as his jaw hung slack. at this point, your slick has definitely travelled down past your ass and down onto the car seat below you- but you couldn’t care less.
“davin, dav-in ..” you whine weakly, “‘m gonna come, don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you ramble, truly not even processing that you’re talking right now, your body almost going in autopilot at the influx of intense pleasure.
davin smirks proudly, exhaling breathy puffs as he screws his eyes shut, “come on my cock, baby. it’s all yours.” he praises, the mixture of pleasure emanating from your pussy mixed with the pain of your nails digging into his back, he was on the brink of coming as well.
his words are what send you over the edge, moaning loudly and whorishly on his cock as you come, legs shaking violently
he feels almost lightheaded, your cunt clenching around him was his final tipping point, “just like that … just like that .. good girl ..” he praises, his thrusts becoming weaker and more irregular.
moaning loudly, he pulls out and pumps himself, quickly shooting ropes onto your pelvis, stomach, and chest, huffing loudly as he rides out his orgasm in his hand.
once coming down, he looks at you, sweaty, messy, covered in his cum, he tutted and shook his head.
“dirty girl” he starts, swiping up some of his come from your lower stomach onto his finger, “made such a mess. go on, clean up after yourself.”
through half lidded eyes, you suck his come off his fingers, swirling your tongue around them before pulling off with a slight pop.
his mouth hangs slightly agape in awe, feeling his cock twitch at the little act you just preformed for him.
“keep that up, and we won’t be leaving this car tonight.”
#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian smut#sunburn 1999#sunburn#hope you enjoy#:)
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
Disco Elysium if it was a Hollywood Blockbuster
(inspired by the trailer by @brainrotdotorg)
Harry has to have a glowup arc where he regains his faith in his job and ability to be a good cop. The police isn't criticized here apart from maybe some handwaves at "a few bad apples" rhetoric. In the climactic moment, the phasmid appears and tells him it is his duty and his destiny... to reform the RCM
Because we don't have time for a nuanced take on addiction in this 90-minute movie, the narrative just turns on a dime halfway through to portraying Harry's alcoholism as rugged and badass instead of pathetic, or he suddenly stops drinking when he gets his groove back, with no withdrawal effects shown. The whole thing about speed helping him be better at his job doesn't factor in; Harry drinks and does drugs because he's sad about Dora and there's nothing more to it. All he needed was to buck up and focus on being the best cop in all of Revachol
Klaasje is portrayed as a one-dimensional scheming femme fatale. Her backstory doesn't really come up. She's dumbed down so that Harry can triumph over her, and is also genuinely attracted to him for some reason, "I am Sherlocked" style
Ruby is either cut entirely, or she's genuinely a predatory lesbian and that's it. If the latter, she shoots herself in the head in front of Harry and Kim and they make a MCU-style "Well that happened" quip about it
No political quests! We don't have time for that. Actually, both communism and fascism are only mentioned once in a backstory dump as stuff that happened in a bygone era. If anything, the film ends up really riding for moralism by complete accident
The film makers don't really know what to do with Kim, so he gets reduced to a guy that stands around and delivers snarky one-liners
The Hardie Boys are in one short interrogation scene, not quite enough to make casual moviegoers care when half of them are gunned down
Fan-favorite characters such as Cindy, Cuno or the Speedfreaks can be seen once in the background of a group scene, but have no lines (you KNOW hollywood couldn't handle the Cuno). It's announced on the director's insta as "a little easter egg for eagle-eyed fans"
Joyce has a way more active role, but also her character turns into an utterly flat "milf girlboss" type who gives Harry and Kim direct instructions on what to do, Madame Director style. The movie writers pat themselves on the backs for being more progressive and feminist than the source material. Also she has nothing to do with the mercs, they just sort of... appeared. Don't think about it too hard! It's stressed repeatedly that they're "rogue agents" and it's really nobody's fault that they're there
Evrart is a corrupt mob boss and that's it. He will be played by a skinny actor in a fatsuit. He also doesn't help find Harry's gun, Joyce has someone retrieve it offscreen so she can gravely and meaningfully hand it to him just in time for the mercenary tribunal
The Deserter just kinda being a shitty sad old man would be too anticlimactic for our summer blockbuster, so he is rewritten to be some kind of evil mastermind. Maybe he even directly communicates with Klaasje and tells her what to do, again "I am Sherlocked" style
The tribunal absolutely does end with RCM backup triumphantly arriving to save the day, led by Jean who underwent a mini-arc offscreen about putting his differences with Harry aside because at the end of the day, they're both cops, and goddamn it, cops help each other. He dramatically takes the wig off and chucks it on the ground to signal his character growth, and everything
No homo-sexual underground thought. The Smoker on the Balcony is allowed to show up in one scene, where he flirtily waves at Kim and Harry. Kim nods at him. Disney's first gay character--
There's a moment where Kim talks to Jean, expressing doubt about Harry. Cut to Harry doing something goofy across the room from them. Jean briefly glances at it, shakes his head, turns back to Kim and says gruffly: "He's a loose cannon... but he gets the job done." This is supposed to be a good thing
#posts by me#i have more i could do this all night#remember those blogs that were like ''[x series] if it was written by moffat''?? i guess this is DE if it was written by moffat#disco elysium
383 notes
·
View notes
Text
WE ARE NOT SEEING ENOUGH OF MIRAGE GUYS
So I'm taking matters into my own goddamn hands-
Meeting Mirage ;)
Either Noah or Mirage might be a little OOC, but I'm giving it a shot
Takes place after the movie, with fem pronouns
Enjoy!
-------
Dude, where the hell are you?
Y/N was currently sent a page to Noah, her best friend of 3 years. He was suppose to pick her up from work, as her car broke down and is still getting fixed at the mechanics, but it was well over 20 minutes and he still hasn't showed. He was suppose to be there at 7:30, and now it's almost dark.
I'kl be there in 10 minutes! Domething just csme uo
Several typos, whatever the hell is happening over there is really making him either rush or panic... actually those are both kind of in the same sense.
Letting out a sigh through her nose, Y/N quickly typed out a response.
Yeah, yeah. Better keep to your promise, Sonic.
Not even letting him respond, the H/C-nette shoved the device into her coat pocket. Sure it may be the beginning of the summer, but she get cold easily.
And I mean very easily.
"Man, I really need a hot shower right now."
10 minutes breezed by quickly, seemingly in a blink of an eye. About to page Noah again, Y/N stopped in her tracks when a honk sounded in front of her.
Looking up, her eyes widen in complete surprise at the image in front of them. Her best friend, Noah Diaz, in a fucking Porsche. Well, it looked like it seen better days, but still.
"Yo, you gonna get in or are you just gonna stand there looking so surprised?" Noah shouted from inside the car, a smug look on his face.
Snapping out of it, Y/N got inside the car, buckling in her seatbelt.
Once the seatbelt clicked, Noah started the car onto the route back to Y/N's apartment complex. 5 minutes in and the two are making small talk and all that before Y/N asked him a question.
"So, what happened?"
"Hm?"
"To the Porsche. Looks like Frankenstein's monster."
Noah let's out a small chuckle at the comment, "Oh uh, some guy sold it to me for a good price. Because it was all banged up and stuff. Couldn't even start."
"When did you get it?"
"Got it 2 months ago, still has some kinks that need to be fixed. But we've made some progress." He patted the dashboard in a comforting way, a somber smile on his face.
"2 months ago? Weren't you in Perú during that time? Also is Reeks helping you fix the car?"
"Yeah. I think I made a pretty good decision going there..also Reeks is just helping me get the parts, I'm mainly doing the fixing."
"Mm, pretty good job so far. I could help with the paint job? The blue and silver seems to be fading out, but I think it a fresh coat will make it look gorgeous."
After she finished that comment, the car felt like it heated up a little. Not too much to notice, but just enough.
"By the way, what did you do in Perú again?"
"Oh, to study for a job I was doing..got to see some of the landscapes and all that..and nearly died-"
"What was that?"
"Wha-nothing! Don't worry about it at all."
A silence fell between you too, an awkward silence to be exact. He's a little more fidgety than usual.. probably from exhaustion. It's something he does whenever he's very tired. Man, he must be more exhausted than usual.
"Sorry I called you so late, like right after your new job and stuff. It must be tiring."
"Nah I don't mind, you're my best friend after all. Just returning the favor when you babysat Kris last minute." Now Y/N absolutely loves Noah's family. First time she met them, it felt like a bond just, instantly clicked within. So from that day on, she makes a little time out of her day just to visit the Diaz family, especially Kris. He was so sweet, and like the little brother she never had. So whenever Noah or his mom were busy, she babysits him, and brings some food so they can enjoy together.
"I don't mind babysitting Kris at all. He's like a little brother to me anyway."
"Yeah, that's Kris. Best little brother I could ever ask for." A soft smile comes to his face, maybe he should bring some food from that burger joint his family likes, before he goes home so his mom doesn't have to cook tonight.
"Yeah..Hey do you mind if I put in my playlist?"
"Go for it."
Grabbing a mixtape from her pocket, she inserts it into the slot right above the radio, turning the knob to hear what was currently playing.
The familiar rhythm of Virgen by Adolescent's Orquesta brings a smile to your face, increasing the volume as one of her favorite songs plays through the car. Every so often, she would sing along to the lyrics, taping her fingers against the door.
What Y/N didn't know, was a certain Autobot mech was observing her in the passenger seat mirror, noticing the small things about her that seemed to have caught even more of his interest. The moment she got in the car, Mirage had to admit, she was PRETTY. And the compliments she said? Wooo that was feeding his ego.
And she was drop-dead gorgeous, in his optics, he doesn't even know her one bit and he's on his knees just from the sound of her voice. Oh her voice, don't even get him started on her voice. Most purest thing he has ever heard since he had stepped foot on Earth. Got her filling his tanks with a fluttery feeling, or as Noah sometimes likes to refer to, butterflies. What a weird thing to say. (Ngl, I head cannon Mirage to fall in love FAST)
After those few thoughts, the mech started observing her other features. Her eyes, hair, lips, cheeks, hands, even the smallest of moles/freckles that were dotted across her face. Oh and when her smile plastered her face, Mirage felt his spark beat faster.
She was a beauty, a beauty in her own category..
Sadly he wasn't able to admire her much longer, as they stopped in front of her apartment, the sky now completely dark. About to open the car door, the lock clicks, preventing Y/N from getting out. Thinking nothing of it, Y/N goes to unlock it, but it keeps repeatedly locking itself. With a huff, Y/N turns to Noah.
"Dude can you stop that shit?"
"It's not me I swear! Li-like I said, Mir-! The car was all banged up when I got it, still got a few bugs in it.." And as subtly as possible, kept kicking right above the pedals. Not to harshly, but to get the message across to stop messing around.
Finally after what seemed to be forever, the car doors unlocked, with Y/N getting out of the car, making sure to grab her tape. Running a hand over the hood, not noticing the shudder of metal, Y/N waves goodbye to Noah before entering her building, already getting excited for her hot shower.
When Y/N was out of sight and earshot, Noah turned to the radio, somewhat pissed.
"Mirage, what the hell was that??"
"Whaaaat? I did nothing wrong. Also, ouch. Do you have to kick me that hard? I'm still recovering y'know." You could hear the teasing smile on his face, pulling the recovery card whenever.
"Mirage you can't do that."
"Why not? Not like she noticed anything."
"You just can't!"
"Aww but I wanna keep admiring la angel bonita un momento más."
"..what."
"I wanna keep ad-"
"I know what you said, but, seriously?"
"You gotta introduce me to her one day, Sonic."
"Mirage she's going to freak out!"
"Mm but what are the chances she won't? Pleaseeee? I won't stop bothering you unless you say yesss~" He coos in a sing-song voice.
"Nu uh, ain't happening. Just because you're acting like a kid doesn't mean you're getting it."
"Fine. But whenever you give her ride home, I'll just keep locking the doors."
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Noah leaned back into the recliner, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. Whenever Mirage says he'll do something, he will follow through. He's ambitious like that. So either; Stay with the no but have Mirage be a brat for who knows how long, or, just get it over with.
"Sooo..Is that a yes?"
He was quiet for a bit, before letting out a sigh,"Fine, fine! Yes, it's a yes."
"Hell yeah, baby! Oh I already have so many places to meet up for dates-"
"DUDE."
------
So that concludes my first post! I like how this (somewhat) turned out, but it's a first. I've made some edits to this and the second part will be out soon, so I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting!
Part 2 here!
#rotb mirage x reader#rotb mirage#hes so bbg fr#wanna kiss his dumb cute face so much#transformers#transformerstheriseofbeasts#x reader#first post#transformers x reader#mirage x reader#bayverse
580 notes
·
View notes
Text
🦇Every Good Girl Needs a Creepy Vamp🦇
Warnings: overstimulation, sex while high, noncon/dubcon, corruption kink (kinda), going off my nsfw headcanons that Paul likes to be degraded for being a creep, reader is in high school but she’s still 18, fem!reader, reader’s not a virgin, uses the term “mama” but reader isn’t pregnant/nor will she become pregnant, I guess this my as well count as yandere, stalking, an obscene amount of cum, I’m talking about A LOT, Paul can make phantom sensations as one of his vampy powers bc why not. Do you ever write something that makes you go ‘oml what the hell did I just write?’, no editing man, I like my men bloody, slutty, and pathetic.
Walking down the sidewalk you turn onto the residential neighbourhood where your family’s home resides. Out of the corner of your eye you spot the same guy. You’ve met him quite a few times on the boardwalk, smoked a joint with him almost every time as well, despite how unnerving you found him at times. But you really couldn’t blame yourself really, having been viewed as a good girl most of your life. Approaching the kids who would be able to get you it was a no go, not only attracting attention by interacting with them in general, you’d have nowhere safe to smoke it without getting caught.
So when you went looking for a possible summer job alone on the boardwalk, your chance came up to you on a golden platter. This new ‘friend’ seems to preen at your attention, not at all frustrated or wary of your shy prude-ness. And not at all aware or at least acknowledging how you only seem to come to him to smoke the devils lettuce.
But who were you to blame really? Upon first meeting you, he’d offer the joint unprompted and in return you’d hang with him until the boardwalk closes. That was your trade as far as you were aware.
As if sensing your eyes on him, he locks eyes with you and takes it as the signal to approach. You lock up a bit, remembering how… close you two have progressed on the boardwalk.
To be truthful you had been avoiding him for just a little bit now, which was easy considering you’d have no reason to go on the boardwalk besides your once in a blue moon shift at a carnival stand. But Paul seemed to have noticed your avoidance, finding him places you’d never expected too, each time a little closer to home.
But it was too late to run now without making it obvious, as Paul meets you with his characteristic non boundaries, practically draping himself across you as greeting.
Before you could think of a backup plan, you had reached your door, luckily you had accidentally left the lights on before you left. Making it seem like your parents were home despite them being a couple states away for work.
You try to think of a way to politely excuse yourself when Paul asks to borrow a lighter, offering to share a joint or two. As tempting as that was, you didn’t want to let him inside, nor did you want the possible smell lingering inside your home and get in trouble, you tell him the latter reason as you inch towards the door.
Paul offers the backyard as an alternative with a glowing smile, mentioning that your parents will know you're there, but you’ll sit away enough that you won’t get caught, and that’s when you give in. Walking into the house to fetch a lighter and ’telling’ your parents about hanging out in the backyard for awhile.
Paul gets settled quickly on the grassy path, pouting slightly when you sit beside him as opposed to on his lap as he eagerly beckons you too. Lighting up quickly he passes the joint to you and you’re quite proud of yourself and how you didn’t cough as you exhaled, welcoming that familiar warmth in your chest and fuzzy feeling crawling in from the back of your head.
Soon enough, Paul was back to his old tricks, hogging the joint and letting you crawl over him to try and get it back. Demanding some sort of reward for each hit you take, mostly little kisses. He’d prefer them on his lips, but he’s patient enough to let you build up to it, going on his forehead, cheek, and chin. Until he captures your chin and plants a kiss on your lips. Next holding you close and dizzying you with the quick succession of kisses.
Ah, this is what he does. His lack of boundaries upping to an eleven and his boldness holds no bounds as he gets high. Using your need for his weed to squeeze as much affection out of you as much as he could. Everytime it was you who stopped before things went too far, but gradually your resolve weakens as you start to crave more. The only thing holding you back was your perceived prudence. You were already pushing past the line with smoking weed, much less with a stranger, but having sex, all of those at once? It was too overwhelming.
Still that ache that often comes with the high, starts pooling in your tummy, letting Paul pull you into his lap despite your better judgement.
Yes, this is exactly what he does. It almost completely mirrors that night on the boardwalk before you started to avoid him.
Goading you on to his lap, holding your lips hostage as he winds you up. So worked up you don’t notice your hips moving, rubbing against his own. Fingers start to trace your body, seemingly seeping through your clothes to touch your skin, despite Paul's actual hands against your waist.
You jumped a bit, looking around to find no one else, the hands remained on your body, trailing against your sensitive breasts and thighs, constantly moving and overlapping with each other.
You had cum on his lap that night, and he tore off your panties just before you had managed to pull away, not seeming to mind the lack of underwear as Paul gave no chase.
In the morning you had woken and after realising you were sans panties, decided to keep your distance from both the boardwalk and him.
The reminder of your stolen panties comes to the forefront of your mind as you flush. And with the weed clouding your normal reserve you ask what happened to them, the grin Paul gives you almost regret your words. “Oh I think you already know huh?” You do know, you know exactly what a boy like him would do with stolen panties but you push anyway. Playing chicken with answers you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle. “Should I? I don’t have a dirty mind like you, you creep.”
You go to move off of him, but he pulls you back with a renewed vigour. “A creep really? Then you’re my good girl right?” Curling his hips upwards, you feel his chubbed up cock against your clothes. Once again you’re wearing a skirt without shorts underneath. You can feel the heat against your core.
“You’re the one I obsess over huh? The one that I climb into trees to get a glimpse of your bare skin? The one that I just can’t help but steal her panties, sniffing her panties so I can come over and over. Still craving her wet pussy all the while?” Smelling your hair makes him groan, his hips stuttering as he bounces you against him as he grinds up to you. “You’re my good girl huh? The one who’ll tease me to get what she needs? The one who’ll rub one out on her bed with her curtains open on the third floor, After getting the fix she needs and running away just as fast?”
Your eyes widen with fear as he reveals more and more intimate details. The more he talks the more it sounds like a confession, and with all the details he provided, you don’t doubt him. Shakily mentioning that you should go back inside, your parents might worry about how late it is. Paul only smiles with that same lazy smile and says oh so casually “I’m sure that won’t be a problem huh? We’ll be quiet enough as to not wake up the next state over.”
Before you start to thrash in his hold, Paul preemptively rolls you over, trapping you in his embrace, grabbing your panties and ripping them off again, this time unashamedly groaning against them as he huffs.
Dragging his hips back and forwards, Paul cums with a moan, his hips digging deeper into your own as he climbs back down, whining into your neck as he overstimulates himself, his pants dampening from his cum as he continues to rock his hips.
Climbing over, straddling your stomach, he pulls out his still hard cock, preening at your attention. He fondles himself as he speaks, cumming over your chest quickly. “I can’t even be satisfied with my hand anymore, can’t even cum with nobody else, I just need you pretty mama.”
With a shuddering moan, he pulls your shoulders down with unnatural ease. He now straddles your chest, as he continues to pump his dick with gross sounding ‘Schlick Schlick Schlick’s. With your panties still pressed up against his nose between words he whines loudly. “Don’t you feel bad for me? That shit you’ve put me through? If you wanted me so bad that you placed a spell on me, all you had to do was -fuck-ing ask”
His tip was an angry red as his hips jerk forward, his voice cracking between pleads and demands. “Uhhhhg fuck just kiss it won’t you? Open your mouth for me baby, you can do it for me, sugar, I know you can.”
Whether intentionally or not (most likely the latter) Paul’s hands snake up from the back of your nape and that makes you gasp lightly. Coincidentally, that is exactly when Paul rocks his hips forward, nearly gagging you on his girth as he slips forward with a guttural cry. “Fuck-fuck me sugar, like that, yea just… like that.”
Bowing over you, Paul keeps you in that position as he humps your mouth with very small movements, trying to stop his orgasm just yet. Only to cum in the back of your throat as he thrust in fully. His cries getting pitchier as he seems to overstimulate himself more, dragging himself on your tongue as you struggle not to choke on his cum.
Completely overwhelmed by the situation at hand, but your body seems to decide for you, that familiar ache of need that follows you whenever you get high has hit full force. Not being able to do anything about it has you squirming.
Pulling you away by your hair, he taunts you with misplaced smugness. “Fuck that’s so hot, you’re a natural you know that? Look how hard you make me” grabbing at your shirt he shreds it down the middle, grabbing at your tits like a tween boy. “There’s those beautiful tits.”
Familiarly, what feels like multiple hands start to grab at your body tenderly, looking around only shows nothing but the feeling is still there. Pawing at your neglected pussy, a hand gently spreads open your lips to the cold air, another teases at your clit and another starts to prep you open. The hands seem to work in tandem, so close together that they should be overlapping but that does nothing to deter their work.
Squishing your tits around his dick, he slides his dick between them as he watches your facial expressions knowingly. He quickly cums again, bending over to lick your face where his cum had covered as he continued to hump.
Pulling back by your hair he directs you back to his still throbbing erection. “Last time was cute, but suck like you really mean it this time yea? Don’t make me do all the work.” Giving you little time to even process that demand he goes to fuck your mouth again, a bit harder and with a lot less grace. Moaning around his dick, the hand prepping you slides in with two fingers. This time he seems to last longer, with a voice slowly becoming less human sounding he moans unabashedly “you’re doing so well for me, mama, fuck.” Pulling out suddenly, he cums on your chest, just as you were about to cum on the fingers, his seed catching on your open mouth as you pant.
The hands didn’t stop, nor did Paul as he tapped his still hard dick against your tongue. Very slowly moving down your body, he watches your body clench around nothing as if he knew what was going down.
“Stop looking you fucking creEP AH” another finger slips in as more hands cup your tits, toying with the sensitive nips as Paul kisses down your body with a gutteral hum. “Perfect mama, keep calling me that, sayin’ it like that. I’ll show you just how much I crave it.”
His dick slides against your clit, as the hand continues harshly. Rubbing gently at first but then a bit harder, a bit faster, watching you keen.
Pulling your legs over his shoulders as he keeps your thighs closed, Paul once again chases another climax with your thighs as you cum again against this invisible force.
Put still, nothing stops, not until Paul comes on your chest, licking up his cum and chasing down your mouth as he tongue fucks your own.
Kissing slowly down as he crawls in between your thighs, he gives a slow lick to your gushing cunt as you squeal. The warm, wet, and slimy tongue savouring your cum as if it was the best thing to eat. He lets the hands do most of the work, choosing to either watch from above you he makes an even bigger mess of himself, wiping your wet pussy with your panties to sniff. Or he licks you slowly, nursing on your clit with a patience you didn’t think he possessed.
But he was determined to make you cum more than he did, which was a feat in itself. Slowly, the invisible hands around your sensitive pussy faded away, leaving you gasping for breath and tired as hell. But Paul makes himself still very much apparent as he uses his palm to smack on your cunt a few times. Embarrassingly, soaking it as he did so.
Gathering your weak limbs, Paul slipped in easily, convincing himself that you were obviously made for him, not acknowledging how he made you this way. Instead preferring his delusions that you were perfect, just for him, as soon as he saw you on the boardwalk.
Wasting no time at all, Paul starts a punishing pace, meanly pinching at your teased nipples and smacking against your clit as you gush around him.
With weak arms you push at his chest, but he easily bats those away as he curls over you, giving you sweet little kisses as he rearranges your guts. Contrasted with the downright disgusting noises he makes as he moans unabashedly, his hips making loud clapping and squelching noises.
You cum around his cock but just as you were expecting he would, he pushes past your orgasm to chase the next one, making you outwardly cry from the overstimulation, barely making any noise as you pant from exhaustion. Paul only kisses up your tears, further silencing your moans as he tongue fucks your mouth.
After quickening up his pace you knew he’d be cumming soon, squirming under him, you really didn’t want to pay for plan b, but he isn’t moved so easily, pulling you back by your hips as he gasps, his forehead resting on your sternum. Just as you had predicted, his cum gushed into your spent cunt and you prayed that he would tucker himself out finally, but apparently god was determined to get your back broken, and so was Paul.
Hiking up your thighs over his own, your pelvis now elevated as your head still rests on the dirty ground, Paul starts to fuck you slower, but harder then before. Pushing up your shirt and bunching up your skirt at your waist, Paul all but salvates over them, laughing as he watches you try to cover them up embarrassed. Holding on to your forearms he uses them as leverage to fuck you deeper, making you cry out lewdly.
Time passes as Paul stays attached to you like a leech, and you start to wonder if he’ll ever let up. Swapping to different positions, trying to find the one he likes the best, but he just can’t seem to make up his mind as he fucks you over and over. Your only peace comes and you barely miss it but as a voice calls out, Paul slows down just enough. Dazed as all hell, you watch as Paul turns his head to regard the newcomers casually, not bothering to cover either of you up nor stop his menstrations.
You can barely understand the conversation but it seems to upset Paul, as he tightens his grip and growls, he fucking growls. And even more embarrassingly, the growl sends vibrations against you, making you mewl loudly. And that was met with whistles and chuckles, as Paul turns back to you to look at you adoringly.
The one who was mainly talking clears his throat, saying one last comment and despite the fact you expected Paul to pull away, instead he turns around and goes back to fucking you, turning your body sideways to where the three boys now stood. With one leg on his shoulder, he throws comments to the boys that you can’t process. It took two shuddering almost painful orgasms of yours until Paul came again. With no signs of stopping the two boys who kept quiet had to wrestle Paul off of you.
He growled, hissed, and made spitting noises like a cornered cat. But he eventually regained himself enough where they let him go. Allowing him to say goodbye, he crawls up to you again, using your panties to wipe both of your frothed up cum that spread onto your legs and abdomen, pocketing them and carrying you into your room through your open window.
Kissing you slowly he searches your room, for a keepsake or two as he looks for a pen. Grabbing your arm gently, he writes on your arm instructions before he kisses you again, tucks you into bed, locks up the window he just broke into, and lets himself out through the front door. Picklocking it closed behind him.
‘When you can move again, meet me at the boardwalk or I’ll come to you ❤️’ -Paul
#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#tlb 1987#tlb fanfic#tlb paul#paul the lost boys#tlb smut#the lost boys smut#yandere the lost boys#yandere Paul#yandere smut
704 notes
·
View notes
Note
HELLO I am very excited for this project! I wanted to express a concern though…it’s rather hard to find the any info on the project aside from what’s on the blog (which isn’t…very much information wise) I’m not sure if that’s an intentional decision…
I know when I first found the info I….kind of didn’t believe this?? That sounds odd. I suppose what I mean is, it didn’t seem the most legit. I did digging through the blog, read all the links, searched for a Twitter and YouTube accounts and had a hard time doing that as well…Simply because there is very little information on it. Which there’s nothing wrong with…I was wanting to suggest (as an outsider) that you and your team put more announcements/ marketing into this…?
I REALLY hope to see this project grow, it’s absolutely deserved, and very few people seem to know about it. I’d hate that to be something people miss out on. I don’t really expect an answer on this but I thought I should share the concern as an outside perspective. 💛
I really hope this project is going well for you and that it gets the deserved recognition as it’s coming out!!! So excited!!!
I'm so happy that people share the same excitement and concern for the series. Also, the fact that you guys think it's worthy of success Is truly inspiring! I think it's time I SAY something though about my current situation.
TL;DR - Our team basically went inactive after the summer; everyone returned to their lives and I'm the only one who can keep up with the project unconditionally. I didn't mean to dishearten you guys! It's a pain in the ass to work alone - excluding voice actors and SFX producers. The OUTBREAK blog will change entirely, it will be used for info and marketing. This blog will just be general art created by me (&no-namestuff). I will continue to work on the series independently, but I'll definitely give out more info as requested and make things more legit whenever I can!
Over the summer, a group of us began working on the project together, but as most of my friends returned to school and their regular lives, it became almost impossible to keep going. Currently, only a few are available to help, but they're too busy.
I didn't want to worry anyone by saying that it's basically just me working on the project; it's tough to balance animating, scripting, marketing, planning, publishing, AND funding by myself. Over time it (advertising and insightful communication) just became indifferent to me, I even considered going silent for a while until I had a mother-load of progress, but that's really not fair.
The project was a bit of a mess when we started. We didn't plan on making it a big deal, my animations were half-assed and incomprehensible; I barely knew how to work Adobe and could barely even pay it off, the sound was going to be recorded via iPhone, the script wasn't even halfway done, and voice actors weren't thought of until the Prologue. After more than six months of work, Verse 1-4 (or 6?) was deleted because of issues with the file.. this really drew the line for everyone.
So here I am, despite everything; I revised the script, which is barely halfway done, redesigned the characters, read more into the multiversal conundrums of AUs and UNDERTALE, built a portfolio, studied poses for the action scenes — and there’s still a lot that I have to learn. I'm working on Q&As, asks, and the teaser / test / project animations. I don't want people to be confused or hesitant, so I appreciate you a lot for reminding me of this. As requested, I will provide additional details about the project too :) !
No-Name's theme is in progress (thanks to Synth Mints), I've invested heavily in software for good quality animations, talented voice actors from this fandom (some you might even know) have agreed to voice for me - I'm extremely grateful for their help. Even if it takes years to release an episode or pilot, I'm still excited about the outcome. Who knows, I might even have a genuine team by then! :D
aw geez sorry for the whole bit-life story, I'm just trying to shed some light on the situation for you all. I do care, I want everyone to know that, it's just hard work.
Until the next teaser animation, please have these lil' pieces of teasers / lore as an apology!
SD by @/galacii
ERROR by @/loverofpiggies / CrayonQueen
LASTLY today is my birthday yayyy 🥳🎂
#wish me luck#next anim is way longer than 5 seconds#I hope this sums things up#outbreak#shattered dream sans#no name sans
228 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
myhealingjournal-blog
My Healing Journal
arisugawa-rio
̀ෆ+*🍎🐰❤🔥🎸*+̀ෆ
lindadelsocorromodamedellin-blog
Sin título
grabbbi
Untitled