#[says fuck in the tags so this doesn't go into the search]

[sparky-is-spiders]

Jonelias Week Day 1 (Which is definitely today I swear), for the prompt "No Powers AU"

This one... maybe got away from me. This is actually only the first half of what I've written so far, and probably the first third overall! I do plan to post this to Ao3 at some point (although I suspect I'll need to do a lengthy round of editing first lmao). It's some very self-indulgent nonsense, which is a lot of what I write, but now it's getting put in the main tags of a ship during said ship's event week. So. It may also be a little bit "aromantic dude tries to figure out what having a crush is supposed to be like." Also a lot of "dude who took Principals of Accounting once pretending it knows what office work is like." Anyway, quick warning before we begin, and the rest will be under the read-more:

Stalking (played for laughs) for most of the fic.

Just. A weird amount of obsession.

Ok that should be it I think. Fic under the cut.

Jon's new boss was, quite possibly, the most boring man in the world. He wore the same outfit every day (pale dress shirt with dark unpatterned tie and gray slacks and matching suit jacket). The only personal effect in his entire office was a potted plant on the windowsill (some sort of succulent, and definitely fake). He always arrived to work exactly half an hour early and left exactly half an hour late. The only hobby he appeared to show any interest in was scheduling, which he seemed to find both deeply engaging and remarkably irritating. In fact, he was apparently so opposed to the idea of mixing his work with his personal life that he might as well not have existed beyond the walls of their office. Jon had never been more fascinated by anyone else in his entire life.

It stared with the transfer to the accounting department. Elias had met with him personally to get him acclimated to his new role. He had been blandly polite, and blandly handsome, and Jon had stopped listening to him about five minutes into their conversation. It was probably bad form, really. The software Elias was droning on and on about sounded like it was about to become a central feature of his days. He really should've been paying attention to it. Instead, he pretended to make eye contact while zeroing in on the top of Bouchard's forehead (a very useful trick, really) and became inordinately focused on the small lock of hair that had fallen across it. It was terribly distracting, and Jon had wondered how he hadn't noticed it. And then he wondered how it had come to be there. And then he had built up an entire story involving a murder, an illicit affair with the assistant director of marketing, and the potted succulent. And then he had noticed Bouchard eying him with what could've been suspicion or amusement or irritation or nothing whatsoever, and had been forced to rapidly pretend to care about their company's bad debt expense policy. Bouchard had indulged him, and had spoken with the calm authority of someone who knew what they were talking about, and had even managed to avoid being overtly condescending (a feat forever out of Jon's reach). At the end he had shaken Jon's hand (with a nice, firm grip), and had told him "I'm looking forward to working with you, I'm sure you'll make a wonderful member of our team." Jon had left that meeting with a mind shrouded in a fog of boredom and a faint sensation of warmth which he decided was best attributed to curiosity and left otherwise unexamined. Over the next few weeks, Jon had tried to subtly inquire into Bouchard's life. At the time, he had been naively under the impression that surely he must have let slip something about his life; some odd quirk or funny story or harmless bit of information which could justify Jon's blooming curiosity. Unfortunately; "He lives in Chelsea, I'm pretty sure?" (Sasha) "He's currently in a meeting. Honestly Jon, you'll be better off just sending an email. Now can I please get back to work?" (Rosie, probably lying about the meeting) "He actually lives here in the office. Set up a cozy little home away from home in one of the storage closets and sneaks out at night to raid the canteen. And he's having an affair with the assistant director of marketing." (Tim, definitely lying (but maybe a mind reader? Also, full of brilliant ideas for places Jon could maybe set up a cot whenever he needs to stay overnight)) Clearly, Jon would have to take matters into his own hands if he wanted answers. That was fine. It could be his own private little research project.

Jon liked to think that the entire thing had actually been quite reasonable, and that he had acted within the bounds of their pre-established relationship as employee and supervisor. Surely any rational person had to realize that nobody could possibly be that uninteresting. Anyone would be curious as to what dark secrets Bouchard his behind his well-tailored suits and polite, professional demeanor. … perhaps most rational persons would not meticulously record the movements, behavior, and daily appearance of their colleague in a discreet notebook (with annotations, color-coding, and graphs where appropriate), but Jon had always prided himself on his dedication to research and understanding. So far Jon had collected frustratingly little data. If Bouchard was hiding anything, it wasn't apparent from his schedule (see pages 8-13, figure 2.b), his eating habits (see page 22), or his lone plant (see page five, figure 1.c). His breaks did seem specially timed to avoid other people (and he appeared not to engage in many social behaviors generally), but he never acted irritated or otherwise unhappy to encounter one of his subordinates, so Jon wasn't entirely sure if it was deliberate avoidance or simple coincidence. Really, the only truly odd thing about him was his inexplicable interest in Jon. That very morning, for example, Bouchard had stopped by his cubicle for a fifteen minute discussion on the upcoming Annual Team Luncheon, an event Jon had never attended before (due to an annual migraine which coincidentally always happened to occur on the exact date of the luncheon), which Jon did not plan to attend, and which honestly sounded like some sort of violation of the Geneva Convention. The topic itself was not especially odd (small talk was an archaic tradition which had stubbornly clung on in every workplace Jon had ever set foot in), but Bouchard's low propensity for inter-office socialization combined with the fact that he had both chosen Jon specifically as his conversational partner was… highly suspicious. Most people who encountered Jon inevitably concluded that he was more effort than he was worth (an attitude Jon mostly appreciated).

And of course, there had also been their interaction two days ago, when Elias had paused briefly to inquire as to whether Jon would be staying late, and what he was working on, and if he might perhaps consider heading home soon because there was only so much overtime they could pay him. Or on Friday, when he had managed to hold two separate conversations with Jon where very little was said. Honestly, Jon somewhat suspected that Elias had spoken to him more in the past few weeks than he had spoken to any of their colleagues for the entire time Jon had been there to observe him. Most of Jon's notes were now dedicated to their interactions. From his cot in the unused storage room (which was indeed a good place to stay overnight, thank you Tim), he could jot down everything he recalled about their interaction; it had begun at 8:32 and had concluded at 8:47; the weather was warm and slightly humid, although the office interior remained at a comfortable 21 °C. Bouchard's shirt had been a nice, cool gray, which complemented the silver of his eyes. Jon (who had been busy digging for his favorite pen (the ink was a lovely deep green color, and it was usually kept on the left side of the top desk drawer, and Jon had no idea where else it could have possibly gone)) had settled on "irritation" as his tone, which Bouchard either had not noticed or had not cared enough to acknowledge. He had easily dominated the conversation, and Jon could admit in the sanctity of his research journal that his voice had been soothing enough to cool away some of Jon's annoyance. He wrote his conclusion: Subject behaved near-identically in tone, posture, body language, and apparent mood as he has in all previous communications. Subject displayed no strong thoughts or opinions on subject of discussion nor conversational partner. Interaction was pleasant but slightly dull, no new information discovered. It was almost exactly the same as every previous conclusion. Jon had to admit, so many months with so little progress was… discouraging. He shifted on the narrow mattress and winced when his movements aggravated his backache (which was surely unrelated to his frequent occupancy of the cot). It was becoming more and more apparent that the only possible solution was to do some actual, direct investigation. His first idea (break into Bouchard's office) seemed a tad far (also, he didn't know how to pick locks). His second idea (follow him home) seemed a stretch further than the previous one, and was perhaps best saved as a last resort. His third idea (something something computers? (perhaps "idea" was a bit generous)) would almost certainly require Sasha, who would have questions Jon couldn't answer. He flipped idly through his notes, half-skimming, half-thinking. It was only when his gaze landed on figure 2.b, Weekly Schedule of E. Bouchard, that he actually came up with something reasonable. Something actionable.

[sparrowsfallingfromthesky]

It's because no one wants to fucking read trentrebeccated. Not everyone is polyamorous or wants to read about their two fave characters with a third. And because tedbecca fucking sucks.

baby's first real hate mail <3

[crystalkitty1220]

I’m planning on making an incorrect summary of ibvs and this was one of the first ideas i had

THIS REMINDS ME OF THE TIME I WAS BORED IN CLASS AND WASTED LIKE TWENTY PAGES OF MY NOTEBOOK BY SCRIPTING A "IBVS IN A NUTSHELL" THING

tags are just me being nostalgic

[neverendingford]

.

[astonmartinii]

ice, ice baby (literally) | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x raikkonen!reader

the ice man may have never spoken, but his daughter never shuts the fuck up

based on the request from @blue-skyandstars

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 783,409 others

yourusername: taking names and kicking asses (and getting all assignments in on time with an appropriate amount of ass licking)

view all comments

user1: i love how she is so clearly kimi's daughter

user2: the only two blondes that don't freak me out

user3: insert that paris hilton clip "can i have two more of these little blonde bitches?"

maxverstappen1: what's an appropriate amount of ass licking and can i demonstrate on you?

maxverstappen1: wait! who said that?

yourusername: in your dreams car boy

maxverstappen1: trust me i see you in my dreams all the time

yourusername: so that's why you're always in the shower when i call you in the morning....

user4: i'm new here, are they together?

yourusername: wouldn't you like to know weather boy

maxverstappen1: she's actually my sleep paralysis demon, sorry to say

user5: they're so unserious

kimiraikkonen: keep those studies up i'm paying the bills

yourusername: i promise to use my status as a nepo baby for good papa 🫡

kimiraikkonen: proud of you.

user6: we love a self aware girly

user7: the raikkonen household really is the best balance, a guy who acts like talking causes him physical pain and a girl who couldn't shut the fuck up if she tried

yourusername: no way i'd rather it be

charles_leclerc: how many versions of that shirt do you have?

yourusername: enough...

charles_leclerc: and i'm the one who is a threat to national security when i go shopping

yourusername: that trouser collection should get you on some sort of list

user8: all these f1 drivers in her likes and comments and she's not cuffed... why is she fumbling so bad

yourusername: am I fumbling or are THEY?

user9: expose the dms please

yourusername: that would not be pg13 soz!

maxverstappen1

liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 1,094,556 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: oh look who decided to come back

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user10: max is so annoyed that she decided to go to school in the us that he makes all american fans lives hell by winning all the races

user11: so true of him

landonorris: matching books? you're such a simp

maxverstappen1: is a man forbidden to be in a book club? who backwards of you lando

yourusername: just because you can't read, don't take it out on us

landonorris: i can read!

yourusername: name the last book you read

yourusername: and that doesn't include searching your name on twitter

landonorris: can you go back already, you're so mean

yourusername: don't come for our two man book club if you can't handle the smoke

maxverstappen1: what she said

user12: i love how spring break starts and y/n doesn't even go to see her dad, straight to max

maxverstappen1: kimi is coming! i am NOT a bad friend who deprives y/n of her dad

user12: you're also scared of kimi

maxverstappen1: i'm also scared of kimi

danielricciardo: you're in my building and i don't get any baked goods... i see how it is

yourusername: as if max is allowed to eat them anyway they're for dad

danielricciardo: i promptly take back anything i've ever said

user13: max has got to be down bad to have that much baking equipment in his house when it's canon he can barely cook eggs

yourusername: if he wanted to he would

user14: is this confirmation?

yourusername: i hope those are paper straws you're grasping at

maxverstappen1: why wouldn't i make sure i have the equipment to get my worker bee to make me sweet treats (don't read that rupert)

user15: i'm on to you two ... there's something shady going on here

sebastianvettel

liked by kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,409 others

tagged: yourusername

sebastianvettel: she's too old, i miss when she was a nice and polite child

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user19: annual god father seb appearance

user20: y/n please work your magic to get him to a race this weekend

yourusername: i'm working on it! watch out for suzuka

user21: the people's princess truly

yourusername: rude! i am a very polite young woman 🙁

sebastianvettel: yes you are, but also when you were ten you didn't bother me with your love life

sebastianvettel: and you weren't so fussy with food

yourusername: I AM NOT FUSSY I JUST HAVE AN ACQUIRED TASTE

sebastianvettel: you asked me to uninvite lewis to our dinner plans because you "hate that quinoa shit, i'm hungry enough to kill a horse with my bare hands"

yourusername: and i'd say it again!

lewishamilton: first of all: rude. second of all: i knew there was a reason you and max get on so well - BLAND

maxverstappen1: just because my food doesn't turn my shit green or couldn't accidentally be sold in the rabbit section of the pet store doesn't make me BLAND

yourusername: i don't trust a man who makes non-alocholic tequila THE FACT IT GETS YOU DRUNK IS THE BEST PART OF THE TEQUILA ONLY WEIRDOS DRINK TEQUILA FOR THE TASTE

lewishamilton: gasp! you said you liked it!

yourusername: i try to be supportive okay :(

user22: well that was something

user23: max always coming to the rescue ... makes you think

charles_leclerc: i am sensing some blatant favouritism here

mickschumacher: i never get invited on baking weekends :(

yourusername: snooze you lose ladies

sebastianvettel: this is exactly what i mean y/n

yourusername: my bad! i'm sorry my god father loves me more than you :p get well soon

sebastianvettel: that's not-

charles_leclerc: consider yourself in beef

yourusername: it's on babe

user24: gosh i'm so confused WHO THE FUCK DO I WANT TO GET WITH HER

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 809,445 others

yourusername: boy, oh, boy am i ready to finish this semester

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user26: i see tulips i do deduce that they are from max verstappen 🤓👆

user27: i hate you invasive leeches (i believe this and it is now my personal headcanon)

maxverstappen1: SEAT BELT PLEASE

yourusername: i swear i did 😫

maxverstappen1: you need to protect the precious goods

landonorris: you never tell me that 🙁

maxverstappen1: you're not precious goods, hope this helps x

landonorris: i see how it is

yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game lando

user28: they've either got the single most flirtatious friendship ever to exist or they're together

user29: if they are just friends and those flowers are from her actual gf - i am not being dramatic but i would take a long walk off a short plank

user30: i feel like they'd be the ultimate cockblocks for each other 😭

kimiraikkonen: proud of you bub

yourusername: i am losing hair from academic stress i hope you're happy papa

kimiraikkonen: i am 👍🏻

yourusername: i am losing hair - LOSING HAIR THIS IS A BIG DEAL YOU PAY FOR MY APPOINTMENTS

kimiraikkonen: you need a college education so you're not wasting all of my money - i also pay your sorority dues so be nice to me

yourusername: i'm tired let me be the low effort nepo baby i am meant to be

user31: can kimi raikkonen pay for my hair appointments too?

jensonbutton: is that MY CAR?

yourusername: you put me on the insurance?

jensonbutton: yeah for when your car was in the shop - i thought shelby was still in my garage?

yourusername: not to victim blame but having so many cars you don't notice one is gone, that's on you

jensonbutton: @KIMIRAIKKONEN YOUR KID STOLE MY CAR

yourusername: britt gave me the keys !!!!!!

kimiraikkonen: you got duped by a 21 year old, that's not my fault

user32: kimi when y/n jokes about dropping out 🤨 kimi when y/n steals one of jenson's cars 🥹

maxverstappen1

liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 2,305,689 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: ice, ice baby (except you're smoking hot)

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user35: WHOOP WHOOP LET'S FUCKING GO

user36: max already having the approval of kimi, that's my king

maxverstappen1: make no mistake i went to the raikkonen household with many offerings before i asked for his permission

user37: and if he had said no?

maxverstappen1: i would've asked y/n regardless 🫡

kimiraikkonen: 🤨

maxverstappen1: uh? i'm digging my own grave but i love your daughter so that's all the matters right? RIGHT?

kimiraikkonen: 🙄

maxverstappen1: WOULD IT KILL YOU TO USE THE KEYBOARD I'M HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN HERE

user38: the way max got given approval on live tv with more words than we've heard from kimi at any point in his career and he's still a shaking mess

user39: anxious girl representation

yourusername: you melted this icicle

maxverstappen1: eh i think you've always been a softy

charles_leclerc: like softserve ice cream? shop @lec now!

maxverstappen1: do you fucking mind?

yourusername: really? on the post of my boyfriend professing his love?

charles_leclerc: god forbid a guy chases the bag (also he called you smoking hot, that's hardly a profession of love)

maxverstappen1: you little rat

yourusername: lifetime supply of lec and a flavour named after us and consider yourself forgiven

charles_leclerc: i don't need your approval that much

yourusername: @kimiraikkonen @sebastianvettel you seeing this shit?

charles_leclerc: fine... weaponising your dad and god father is a low blow

yourusername: also! i love you baby - thank you for putting up with my constant yapping xx

maxverstappen1: i love you even more, i can't wait for you to finish college so i never have to share you ever again

kimiraikkonen: 🤨

maxverstappen1: AND YOUR LOVELY FAMILY

yourusername: they love you really maxy don't worry

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 1.945,440 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm so talented, i brought three more championships to the family without even getting into the car

view all comments

user40: okay idk why yall were shipping anyone else, i've seen one picture of them being cute and am sold

user41: i'm so convinced this happened cause max saw people were convinced she was with other people on the grid and he had to mark his territory

maxverstappen1: yes i was jealous but can you blame me? prettiest girl in the world actually wanted me back. i will not fumble this

user42: i need my man to be this down bad for me

kimiraikkonen: cute.

yourusername: thank you papa xxx

maxverstappen1: THANK YOU KIMI, LOVE YOU KIMI

yourusername: i think he gets it babe...

maxverstappen1: first time i've got a non-emoji answer, i will savour it

user43: oh my i love them your honour

sebastianvettel: happy for you guys, see you guys soon

yourusername: love you seb!

maxverstappen1: thanks for the vote of confidence seb

sebastianvettel: you may be a literal nightmare child, but you're our nightmare child now

kimiraikkonen: what he said

maxverstappen1: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (i am ignoring that you called me a nightmare child, i was 17 give me a break)

yourusername: you guys he's crying hahahahahah

maxverstappen1: i just love you guys (y/n more)

yourusername: i love you too xx

user44: so liked now we've got the relationship reveal... when do we get both y/n and kimi in the red bull garage

user45: lets up the stakes and get max, kimi and seb in the 24 hours of le mans

yourusername: oh now you've started it - he's already on the phone to adrian

maxverstappen1: am i the first nepotism boyfriend?

kimiraikkonen: you might be the favourite of the in-laws if you get me a le mans win

maxverstappen1: y/n is an only child? i'm the only in law?

kimiraikkonen: yes?

maxverstappen1: I'M ON THE PHONE TO ADRIAN

yourusername: did i just lose my boyf to my dad?

fin.

note: babe the writer's block is back. but i'm fighting it. hope yall enjoyed this!

[smutoperator]

Dirty-Talking Leaders

Hwang Yeji, Yu Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, (lots of) anal, anal fingering, ass eating, carry-fucking, creampie, cum swapping, (lots of) dirty talk, facefucking, facial, full nelson, gape, girlfriend, multiple cumshots, pussy eating, squatting, squirting, threesome, titfucking

Word Count: 6869

Your girlfriend Yeji has been largely absent from your life this year, very busy touring with her group; she's got barely any time for you. At this point, you wonder if she still loves you at all.

"We have talked very little since you began touring," you say to her. "Do you still love me?" you ask her. "Of course I do," Yeji replies. But you remain unconvinced, since it's been a long while since you two had shared any moments.

On the following day, you arrive at your apartment. Yeji told you she was gonna be there, but as you enter it, you are unable to find her. Maybe she's finally gone and no longer wants to pretend to like you at all.

You search the house, trying to find if Yeji is in there. Some stuff that belongs to her is still around the apartment, but she's nowhere to be found. You keep digging but still can't find her. Is she hiding for you? Are you just clueless? Who knows.

You decide to go back to your bedroom, losing hope of ever fiding her, until you get surprised by a striking view just as you open the door.

Your girlfriend is there, completely naked, getting kissed by another girl, also without any clothes on. And what a body she's got: a beautiful face, perfect thighs, but above all else, an amazing pair of big tits.

"What do you think of my new girlfriend, honey? Isn't she pretty?" Yeji pokes fun at you as Karina keeps kissing her. "She's really stunning," she continues as you approach both of them. Yeji doesn't even look at your face, focusing on the massive erection building under your shorts and loving how quickly you got turned on by their naked bodies.

"Yeji told me you have been waiting for a long time for such a moment since she's started touring. I can guarantee we're gonna blow your mind," Karina says very confidently. "What do you think of him, Rina?" Yeji asks. "Seems like he's already ready for us," she continues as you kiss Karina and she touches your still clothed erection.

"That's so hot, baby," Yeji says. "Come on, let this beautiful naughty girl drive you crazy," she continues, pulling your shorts down to unveil your huge cock, as Karina now jerks it off while Yeji watches both of you enjoying each other with your naked bodies.

"I want you to suck his cock," Yeji tells Karina as she gives her big-booed friend a heavy smile. "Oh, dear, I can tell I'm going to suck the life out of his cock," Karina says, slowly getting on her knees as she keeps her hands touching it at all moments.

"Isn't she perfect?" Yeji asks you as you two kiss each other. Karina starts by licking your balls, then moving all the way up your shaft as she stares at you with her sexy eyes. Both of you and Yeji smile looking at this pretty girl with big tits on her knees for your cock.

"I love this big fucking cock," Karina whispers to you. Yeji also gets on her knees but just watches Karina take it in her mouth and stroke it. "I love the way she wants it," Yeji continues. "What a good girl, taking it slow and nice," she continues.

You slowly toy with Karina's mouth as Yeji dunks her head into your crotch. "Take that whole cock, good girl," she says. "Give me more; I want you to feed me that big cock," Karina says as soon as it pops out of her mouth. Yeji obliges. "That's so hot," you and her say almost at the same time as your shaft slowly disappears down Karina's throat.

"I'm going to get this cock so fucking wet for you; every time you push it in my throat, I'm gonna spit all over it like a good slut, getting it wetter and wetter," Karina says to you. That's the spirit; you love the way she talks dirty to you, making you groan as she licks the tip of it. 

"Look at her body, baby; doesn't it deserve more of your attention?" Yeji asks. "Get behind her and worship this beautiful ass," she orders, telling Karina to stand up and getting in front of her to kiss her best friend. Karina lets out a sexy moan as you slide your tongue between her buttcheeks, while Yeji gets on her knees and kisses Rina's tits and tummy before going all the way down to her pussy.

Karina becomes the center of attention as she pushes both of your heads into her sexy fuckholes. Yeji eats her cunt out while you tongue her tiny asshole. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh," she lets out more sexy moans, her right feet planted on top of Yeji's ass, as the itzy girl slides under her body.

"Holy shit, you two are so hot working your tongues in both my holes," Karina says. "Love how you lick my dirty asshole like that," she continues, taking a deep breath afterwards as you too stay determined to get her folds wetter. "Share me like a good fucktoy, AHHHHHHHHH FUCK," Karins keeps saying as you two worship every inch of her pussy.

"You're such a naughty little girl, Yeji, licking my little fucking cunt in front of your boyfriend," Karina tells her. "Tell me, does it taste better than his big fucking cock?" she continues. Yeji doesn't answer; just like in the past few months, she's too busy touring, but this time the your is on Rina's folds.

You get back on your feet and kiss Karina, taking advantage that Yeji is too busy playing with her pussy, as you two share lots of affection with your lips and you grab Rina's big tits, which are in very close range. "Hmm, baby, you like those big tiddies? Then let's go into bed, and I'll show you how good they are," Karina says.

You lay on the bed jerking your cock off, while both girls get on their knees. "I love watching you suck my boyfriend's cock," Yeji says as Karina sticks her tongue out and licks your shaft from top to bottom. "Wow!" you exclaim as Karina puts it in her warm mouth and stares at you. Yeji is there at the side, smiling at your reactions to her friend's hotness.

"Oh my God," you groan as Karina gives you a perfect deepthroat. "Look like you're enjoying it," Yeji says. And Karina hasn't even started, tonguing your tip and already putting you on the edge. "Look in my eyes and feel my hands crushing that fucking cock," Karina says as she uses it to massage your shaft, making the muscles of it crack and forcing you to use all your forces just to not cum.

"You like my grip on that cock?" Karina says. You can't answer anything, just letting out a groan to survive. You can tell who taught her those edging moves—none other than Yeji herself. And damn what a good teacher she is, because even the simplest moves can already drive you insane.

Karina keeps teasing your cock. "This is just the beginning; I'm gonna use all my orifices to jerk off that beautiful big cock," she says. And she hasn't even used her secret weapon yet, bobbing her head on your cock without using her hands. "I like to go very deep on that big fucking cock," Karina says, getting very sloppy and spitting all over it.

"I love it so much, ohhhhh, this is the best day ever," you say. "Well, we're gonna make it even better, Karina says, unleashing her (not so) secret weapon as she wraps your shaft around her big tits. "Oh, those tits are so perfect, especially sandwiching my baby's big cock," Yeji says, praising her best friend's assets.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," you scream as Karina bounces her tits on your cock. "Oh my God, she's so good," Yeji says as Karina licks the tip of your cock while squeezing it between her tits. "See, baby, I only bring home the best for you," Yeji brags.

"I love the way you work that cock," Yeji tells Karina. "Then come lick the tip too," she replies. "Suck that tip while I stroke that big cock with my massive fucking tits," Rina continues. And that's the moment where you finally can't take it anymore. The long drought had made you completely unprepared for Yeji's magical throat, meaning the moment that she stuck it in your cock for the first time, you caved and burst ropes of cum all over her mouth, with her spitting it so your sperm landed right on Karina's tits.

"Poor baby, he couldn't handle both of us squeezing that cock together," Yeji laughs. Karina pushes her boobs up, tasting your cum mixed with her and Yeji's saliva. "Tell me how it tastes," Yeji asks her. "Salty and sweet," Karina answers.

"That's your fault, you fucking bitch," you say, angry at Yeji for embarrassing you and making you cum so early in front of her best friend. "Yes, baby, that's my fault; I'm really to blame, not you, for missing my sexy mouth in your cock that much," Yeji punches back. "Come here, slut, I'm gonna show how much I missed it," you say.

You grab Yeji's long hair and push her face against your crotch, pounding it with full force. You truly can't deny Yeji's throat is indeed magical, as your cock quickly sprung back up and harder than ever. Karina takes advantage of her friend getting her face plowed, getting on her knees as well behind you to lick your asshole just like you did to hers earlier.

"Take my balls, bitch," you tell Yeji as you keep fucking her face. "Your girlfriend is really a sloppy bitch," Karina says as Yeji bobs her head hard on your cock. "Fuck that face like a pussy," she demands. Yeji pulls up a great show, taking your cock balls deep in her throat, getting Karina jealous as she watches her best friend pull out an amazing work with her throat. "Wanna stuff both our mouths like fleshlights?" Karina asks, getting into your bed with her ass up, with Yeji soon following up.

You then take turns stuffing Yeji and Karina's beautiful, sexy, naughty mouths, getting your cock wetter for their tight holes. "Don't close your eyes," you tell Karina, pounding Yeji's face hard afterwards while she stays with them wide open. "That's how it's done," you tell Karina shortly after. Yeji once again takes the roughest pounding, putting her head on the edge of the bed as your cock destroys her slutty face. When you're finally done, both their chins now drip in saliva as they do a great job spitting all over your big cock as you fuck their faces harder at each turn. After you're finished, you share a triple kiss with both girls, trading further fluids with their naughty mouths.

The two girls push you into the bed as Karina puts her huge tits in your face while Yeji makes the final adjustments to sit on your cock. "That's better than what I expected," Karina says. "I told you he had a big cock," Yeji replies.

Yeji deepthroats you a couple more times, enjoying all the blood of your body rushing into that big shaft. You grab her by the neck, and you two kiss each other like a pair of horny wild wolves. She crawls on top of your body. "Give me that fucking pussy," you whisper in her ear as you suck her perky little tits.

"Come here, Rina, help me and put this big fat cock in my tight meaty pussy," Yeji says as she detaches from you and positions herself on a classic girl on top position. Karina guides your cock into her entrance with a bright smile in her eyes, while Yeji pleases herself further by fingering her asshole.

"Fucking stretch my pussy open, baby boy," Yeji says as your cock gets inside her. "Sit on that big dick," Karina tells her as she positions herself on top of your face. "Such a big fucking cock, it barely fits in this little pussy," Yeji says.

"Oh my God, that feels so good," Yeji says, leaning forward to suck Karina's tits as she slowly bounces on your cock. Karina is having a blast, with your tongue licking her folds down low and Yeji playing with her boobs up top. Yeji detaches from her, bouncing on your cock already in a fast pace and showing her amazing cock-riding skills. But no worries for Karina, as Yeji's mouth is quickly replaced by your stretching arms, with your hands groping her tits hard.

Yeji shows why she's one of the biggest jigglers in the business. Her boobs may not have Karina's massive size, but she compensates that by being an elite bouncer. Karina watches as her best friend teases her. "I know you want to ride this big fucking cock too, having it stretch that little pink pussy and making those big tits bounce like pinballs," Yeji says to her.

"Feed that big cock to this little pussy, fuck baby," Yeji says as Karina gets close to her and kisses her best friend. "Hmmm, naughty girl," Karina says. "OH FUCK," Yeji moans as she puts her fingers up Rina's mouth. "Taste that ass," she says to Rina, putting her fingers back in her butthole while still bouncing on your cock.

"Fuck baby, your cock is so deep in me I can feel it through my asshole," Yeji says, leaning her body down as both of you team up to eat Karina's pussy. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh," Yeji moans as Karina now motorboats her big tits in your face and you grab her girlfriend by her slim waist, trying not to lose sight with so much action going on around you.

Yeji rides your cock very slowly now, taking every inch of that big cock and teasing you about the wonders of Karina. "If your cock is already throbbing for my little pussy like that, you'll be blown away by my friend's little pink hole," she says. Her dirty talk drives you mad, as you start thrusting upwards while sucking Karina's boobs and grab Yeji's ass, shoving your big fingers up her tiny butthole.

"Hmmm, baby, I see you can't hide your anal obsession for long. But you'll have to wait today, AHHHHH," Yeji says, moaning as your hands. "But first, I want to see this big cock sliding deep in my friend's pussy," she continues.

Karina spreads her legs and sits on your cock. Much to your disappointment, she sits in a reverse position, so you're unable to see her massive tits bouncing. But that's exactly how she intended, teasing you to build up your desire for those massive melons.

"Oh baby, just like that, I love this big fucking cock in my pussy," Karina says as Yeji kisses her. "Be a naughty girl; bounce up and down, my boyfriend," Yeji says, moving in front of her and getting on her knees as she's ready to heat up your balls, lick your shaft, and taste Karina's stretched-out pussy.

"I want to feel every inch sliding in and out of my pussy," Karina says as she increases her pace. Yeji stretches her hands to grab her best friend's big boobs. "Baby, isn't she the best and the tightest?" she asks you. "Oh my God, I love the way your boyfriend fucks my pussy," Karina tells her, as Yeji now places her hands in Rina's pussy and her mouth in your asshole.

"Jerk of that cock while I bounce on it," Karina tells Yeji, who does just as she demands. That makes you lose your cool again, thrusting upwards against Karina's wonderful pussy. "YES, YES, YES," you groan and scream, impressed by the tightness of her hole.

"Taste your pussy," Yeji says, stretching Karina's cunt further, inserting a couple fingers in it, then moving up to shove it in her mouth while sucking her best friend's tits. You seize the opportunity to pound Rina's pussy at full speed, hitting her cervix no stop. "YES, BABY, FUCK THAT LITTLE PUSSY HARD," Yeji commands, raising her voice. "UHHHHH FUCK, FUCK FUCK, FUCK, AHHHHH," Karina moans as she is surprised by sudden blasts inside her tight hole and her tits bounce hard, which Yeji loves to watch, masturbating herself to the scene.

"Slam those balls against her dirty little cunt," Yeji demands of you. "I'm gonna do it even better," you reply to her. Karina's perfect ass at your sight activates your biggest kinks. And if her pussy is already this tight, you know her asshole will be even better, grabbing your shaft and switching holes.

"Oh baby, you want my ass? You gotta go slow on it though; I'm barely warmed up," Karina says. Yeji adds a little spit to your shaft. "You're gonna get really warmed up with that big cock up your tiny little ass, Rina," she says. 

Karina bounces her perfect ass on your cock as Yeji adds a little heat to her pussy. "Rub my cunt like that," she tells her best friend, who also sucks her tits. "It fucking feels like heaven," Karina says. "I'm so proud of you taking that big dick," Yeji tells her. "I'm so happy that this cock is deep in my ass," Karina replies.

You pull out of Karina's butthole, leaving out a gape that Yeji is quickly to fill with her tongue. "You're gonna have a lot more time to fuck her ass baby, but now I need you to fuck mine," she says.

Yeji gets on all fours as Karina tongues her asshole while she sucks your cock. "Your ass tastes so good," Karina tells her. Yeji gets your cock wet as Karina feasts in her ass. You mount on top of your girlfriend, ready to end a months-long drought and punish your slutty girlfriend for giving up that butthole to countless guys while she was on tour.

"Oh fuck, that dick feels so good in my ass," Yeji says. Perhaps just as good is Karina's tongue licking her pussy, as she slides under your girlfriend's body. "Fill my asshole up with that cock," she says. You spread her cheeks, enjoying the gape that starts to emerge in her butthole. "That's quite a big gape, you dirty slut; I bet many guys fucked that hole in that endless tour, but I'm still the best one," you say.

"Yes, baby, you're the best cock to take my ass; that's why I want you to take it hard and deep," Yeji answers. You do just that, fucking her ass hard and deep, better yet with you having such a great cheerleader to motivate you. "Deeper, deeper, stretch that ass balls deep," Karina tells you.

"That cock is so hot going up and down that naughty butt," Karina says to you, making you pound your girlfriend even harder. "I love the way you shove that cock balls deep in my ass," Yeji then says as you give her a massive gape. 

"Pound it, pound it," Karina keeps pushing you. "Isn't that gape beautiful?" Yeji asks afterwards as she chenches it down with your cock deep in her anus, making you groan hard. You pin Yeji's head into the bedsheet, which only makes her want you to push harder. "FUCK THAT ASSHOLE," she rises her voice.

"Like that?" you ask her, meeting her demands with hard thrusts that make the bed shake. Her moans get faster and louder. "KEEP POUNDING, KEEP POUNDING," she says. You destroy Yeji's asshole. "YES, POUND ME, FUCK ME," she begs as her asshole turns into your fleshlight and you spank it hard. "GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME," she keeps begging. "That's the best fucking hole you're ever gonna get; take it hard," she brags as you pin her into the bedsheets and give her a rough prone-bone assfucking while she reaches for Karina's pink pussy and eats her best friend out trying to cope with the violence of your thrusts.

Yeji winks her gape to you as you finish fucking her ass, feeding your cock for Karina to taste. "Suck it, baby, I'm gonna fuck your ass next, but first I need you to clean my cock from my girlfriend's dirty butthole," you tell her.

"Taste her ass," you say to Karina as she feasts on your big cock, taking it deep in her throat and enjoying Yeji's asshole flavor.

"Spread it, baby," you say as Karina gets on all fours. "I want you to use that asshole," she says, in a very soft manner. Despite you fucking it just a few minutes ago, it barely feels like it, as her hole remains extremely tight and you have to carefully insert your cock in her tiny butthole, which refuses to give up.

"Ahhhh, oh my God," Karina moans as she bites the bedsheets while her asshole is slowly stretched out. "Your boyfriend's cock feels so good in my ass; it stretches me out so well," she says to Yeji.

"Fuck her hard, make her remember that cock," Yeji tells you as she pops out on top of Karina's ass, placing her hands on her best friend's cheeks to stretch it out. "Keep spreading it," you tell Yeji, who obliges.

"I love feeling that big cock stretching out my tiny pink asshole," Karina says to you in an aegyo-esque manner, telling you how numb she feels for that cock. Her tight hole squeezes your cock to the maximum, forcing you to put your best effort into fucking it, even with Yeji helping spread it out. It won't be long until you cum again, especially when you look at your girlfriend's slutty face and the way she sticks her tongue out in glee, loving watching your cock disappear inside her best friend's asshole.

"Oh my God, fuck, that cock is so fucking good, ahhhhh," Karina moans. "Looks like that slut can't get enough of that big cock, baby," Yeji says. You look at your girlfriend in the eye while Rina keeps moaning like a kitty in heat. Just like with Yeji, you want to see Karina's gaping hole after your big cock pounds it. But unlike your girlfriend, her hole clenches as soon as your cock pops out of it.

Karina teases you as she also winks her butthole. Even though the size of her asshole is inversely proportional to the size of her tits, you and Yeji bring up a perfect team effort to spread it out and slowly gape it. "That's my girl." You praise Yeji's efforts and feed your cock to her tongue as a reward for her to taste Karina's anus.

"You're such a nasty little whore tasting that asshole; that's what you like, your friend's tiny little butthole," you tell Yeji. "Yes, baby, we are two nasty little whores," she replies to you while Karina is still biting the bedsheets and moaning. "What else do you want for spreading that tiny hole for me?" you ask Yeji. "I know your cock from top to bottom; I can tell you're really close to cumming again. I want you to glaze my face full of your cum when that tiny little ass milks you dry," she demands.

"Spread it wider if you want to get it," you tell Yeji as you get balls deep in Karina's ass. The big tit girl closes her eyes as her asshole gets obliterated and her massive milkers bounce like crazy, and your cock claps against her cheeks. "OH MY GOD, FUCKKKKK," she moans softly as you and Yeji keep playing with her asshole. "Fuck my tiny little asshole just like that," Karina says as you give her butt a huge spank, making her scream. "You fuck me so hard," she moans. Yeji, like the nasty whore she is, licks her best friend's butthole as your cock fills it up. You take turns between both girls holes until you finally can't resist and blast a massive load into Yeji's naughty face, just as she asked for.

"There it is, you fucking slut, my fucking cum all over that fucking face," you say to Yeji, who scoops the drops that fall into Karina's asshole and licks your cock. She then brings her best friend to lick her face and taste her boyfriend's cum. "Taste at this salty and sweet sperm; I know you love it," Yeji says to Karina, who sweeps her tongue all over Yeji's face, adding to her already massive amounts of milk in her body.

The two girls get some time to kiss each other and savor your cum. "You're such a good little slut, Rina, milking my boyfriend dry," Yeji praises her best friend. "But we aren't done yet," she continues, laying her back on the bed. You already know what to do, sliding your cock back in your girlfriend's asshole. "I know you want more, baby; there is nothing you like better than fucking girls in their little assholes. I still remember that time you fucked all my groupmates and came in every single one of them," Yeji says.

The heat picks up as you kiss Yeji and start fucking her in a spooning position. Even though she's a massive slut, Yeji can also be a perfect, passionate girlfriend. "Put it nice and slow in me; that cock is so fucking big," she says, shifting her tone. Karina just watches as you too make out. "Oh my God," Yeji moans as you finger her cunt and pinch her nipples, slowly building her up for a big climax.

"Fuck, you're stretching my fucking asshole so fucking much," Yeji ramps up the f-bombs. "I love the way it stretches me out so fucking hard," she continues. "Did you tell your best friend that?" you ask, as Karina is out of view and turns into merely a bystander, still recovering from the pounding you gave to her asshole.

"That's so good; I like the way you go deep inside me," Yeji says as her anal spooning session continues. "Deep and slow in my little asshole, please, baby," Yeji begs. Karina just enjoys the two lovebirds having sex, masturbating herself to both of you getting fucked. "Keep going; I want to feel every inch inside that tiny little ass," Yeji continues.

"You mean every inch deep in that gaped ass, you whore," you say to Yeji, increasing the pace as your balls hit her clit with full force now, making her moan like crazy. "AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," she screams. "That's what you asked for, you dirty little slut," you say to her as you go back to play with her cunt and enjoy her tits jiggle like they usually do during Itzy concerts.

"Yes, baby, that's the fucking spot," Yeji says as you massage her clit. Her orgasm is building up as you pound her hard. "Fucking give it to that little asshole," she says. Karina returns to the scene, kissing you as you destroy her best friend's fuckhole. "Hmm, she looks so good with so much cock in her ass," Karina says. "Even better with my fingers also in her needy cunt," you reply, stuffing them in Yeji's pussy and searching for that squirting fountain.

"Ohhhhh yeahhh, I like when you fill both my fucking holes, baby; make me squirt; do it like the last time I brought Ryujin here; make me squirt all over my friend's slutty face; ruin her smile," Yeji says, noting that Karina is enjoying watching her getting pounded.

Karina comes close to both of you as you try to make Yeji cum. "Oh yeah, baby, keep pounding that ass," your girlfriend says. Karina licks her best friend's pussy as you choke Yeji, making her walls clench even further. She's really close. You stimulate her nipples. "Fuck me just like that," she whispers to you. "Do you like fucking your slutty girlfriend in the ass?" Karina asks, kissing you. "Oh, I love it," you say to her.

"OH MY GOD, THAT'S SO GOOD, PUT IT ALL THE WAY INSIDE ME, OH, FUCK BABY, I'M CUMMING," Yeji screams as she squirts a fountain that lands in perfect sync with Karina's opening mouth. Better yet, Rina gets to taste it just as you place your mouth in her big tits and search for that hot milk. But you keep fucking Yeji after her orgasm, letting her turn the whole bedsheet wet. "OH FUCK, THAT'S HOW I WANT IT," she moans.

"Look how much this slut wants to get fucked in her asshole," you say to Karina, kissing Yeji while keeping your cock buried deep in her butt. "Now come here and taste it," you tell her as Karina dives her head into your big shaft. "I love watching my slutty friend taste my dirty little asshole," Yeji brags as she fists her own butthole and tastes it herself.

Karina wastes no time and tries to sit on your cock again, but this time you have different plans, grabbing her legs and putting her under a full nelson. "Oh fuck, baby, your cock feels so good to slide in and out of me," Karina says as her legs go fully up in the air. Yeji massages her best friend's lower body, paying special attention to her pink pussy.

"Look how this dirty little slut loves this cock, right? You like that, Rina?" Yeji asks as she massages Karina's pussy. "Yes, make me cum on that cock," Karina demands. "I FUCKING LOVE THAT DICK," Karina screams as you play with her hole and make it gape. "Stretch my asshole out, fuck, keep pumping that asshole deep; jerk that cock off inside me," Karina begs.

"That's so fucking hot, watching you take my boyfriend's cock," Yeji says to Karina. "I'm gonna cum all over it," the big tit girl answers as you fully lock her legs and turn Karina into an anal fleshlight. "Pound that ass, fuck it deep," Yeji says, cheering you up as you destroy Karina's tight butthole. "I'm gonna fucking cum," Karina moans. "Cum on his fucking cock," Yeji demands.

Karina reaches her orgams as Yeji enjoys seeing her friend's gaping butthole. "That's some good work, baby, gape that tight little ass," she says. "Spread my cheeks out; show your girlfriend how much you stretched my ass out," Karina tells you.

"Stuck your tongue inside of it," Karina says to Yeji, who follows. "Hmmm, such a delicious asshole," she says, taking your cock a couple times deep in her throat before putting it back in. "Yes, taste my stretched-out asshole," Karina approves.

"That's exactly what I want to see," Yeji brags, playing with her pussy as she watches you dominate Karina. "Rub your pussy, rub your fucking pussy, as you watch your boyfriend fuck me in my little ass," Karina orders to Yeji. "You wanna cum with me?" she then asks. "Let's cum together," Yeji says.

"Show me how hard you can fuck that ass; I wanna cum in that cock," Karina orders to you, who increases the pace. "Keep going, keep going; I wanna fucking cum," Karina continues to say. Yeji just sits and watches to get a privileged view of her best friend turning into her boyfriend's cocksleeve.

"FUCK THAT ASSHOLE AS HARD AS YOU FUCKING CAN, FUCK, AHHHHHHHH," Karina can't finish the sentence as her legs shake and she cums all over your cock. "Looks like that big cock was too much for that little slut to handle," Yeji says, her hands still in her pussy as she dives into your balls to lick Karina's dripping juices before diving into Karina's pussy to make it squirt further. "Eat that pussy, eat that fucking pussy, ahhhhhh," Karina moans as Yeji gets a juicy drink to taste and loves every second of it.

Yeji misses no opportunity, taking Karina's ass next in her mouth. "Taste that asshole, taste it; your girlfriend is really a dirty little slut; she loves having her tongue deep in my asshole," Karina says to her.

Karina smiles as you give her asshole a second round of pounding. "Fuck as hard as you want; that's your little jerkoff hole; that asshole loves your big fucking cock; shove that whole cock deep in my ass," she says as you reach to jerk her cunt off. "Fuck it harder; make my pussy feel those balls slapping all over my clit," she continues.

"Shit, that's your asshole, that your asshole, give it to me," Karina begs as you increase the pace and hammer your cock deep in her butt, her big tits losing control as they bounce hard. "FUCKKKKK YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, DON'T STOP," she screams as she cums again.

"Show your girlfriend what you did to that ass; pull it open," Karina orders to you as she pulls out a massive gape. "Look at that gape; it's so beautiful, so fucking hot," Yeji says as Karina winks it to her. "Looks like your boyfriend's big cock had a blast in my asshole; I hope he isn't tired yet," Karina replies as Yeji dives to taste her hole from your cock.

Both girls team up on your cock as you try to fuck their faces. But you are exhausted. However, the girls want more. Yeji puts her ass up and legs in the air as she lays down in your bed. "My turn," she says as you dive to eat her pussy out. Soon, both of you and Karina are teaming up on her holes, kissing each other as Rina eats Yeji's pussy and you eat her ass.

You quickly put your cock back in Yeji's ass, thrusting it slowly as you recover your energies. "How does it feel in this tight little asshole?" Karina whispers at her best friend's year. "So fucking amazing," Yeji says. "I love the slow and deep pumps, feeling it as you jerk your cock off in my butthole. So hot, baby, I love watching you fuck my ass—better, watching you fuck her ass and then get this big cock back in mine," she continues.

You play with Yeji's gaping hole. "That feels good, right? You like feeling her tight walls clenching on your big cock? Fucking gripping it," Karina asks you. "Please, baby, stick your whole cock deep in my asshole," Yeji begs. "You wanna empty your balls in your girlfriend right now?" Karina asks.

"He wants to empty his balls, but it's going to be in your asshole," Yeji whispers to Karina, spoiling her and making her smile. "Baby, you're so fucking perfect; just make me fucking gape like you do; you know what I like," Yeji keeps saying as Karina kisses her. 

Yeji spreads her ass and increases the size of her gape for Karina to see. "Your cock is so fucking good doing that to my asshole," Yeji says. "It's good and so fucking big too," Karina replies. "And it's getting that slutty asshole very loose, stretching it out perfectly," she continues.

"Ah, fuck, he's definitely loosening it up," Yeji moans as Karina whispers dirty words into her ears. Karina kisses her and fingers Yeji's pussy as you finally get the energy back to increase the pace and play with her gaps. "Oh baby, you and her are gonna make me cum soon; I'm gonna cum," Yeji says. "Then cum on his fucking dick," Karina repies.

"Yes, yes, make me cum baby, keep me fucking like that," Yeji says as Karina's nails pinch her clit, getting her even closer. "That's exactly what I need," Yeji keeps saying. "Oh shit, you hit my spot," Yeji tells Karina. "Your fingers are sending me to heaven," she continues.

"Cum for us, cum for us," Karina demands. "Use that asshole, fuck your girlfriend until she cums," she continues. "I'm gonna cum; I'm gonna cum; just keep doing that baby, FUCKKKKKK," Yeji cums and moans. "Perfect baby, I brought you such a sexy lady; I'm so glad you answered back by making me cum; you gave me such a good dick massage in my ass," Yeji says as you kiss her pussycat and eat her gaped butthole.

"It seems like Rina wants some more cock; are you gonna give it to her?" Yeji asks. "I'm a bit tired," you answer. "Come on, baby, just let her sit on that cock one more time and bounce those big tits all over it," Yeji says, pushing you into the bed as Karina jerks your cock off and prepares herself.

Karina impales herself in your big cock, starting an anal squatting session. "Let me see you sitting on this dick," Yeji says, getting behind her. "That's so fucking hot," Yeji continues, sucking your balls as Karina twerks her sexy ass on your cock, quickly ramping up the intensity and making her big tits bounce hard.

"It's so hot watching your ass bouncing on my boyfriend's dick," Yeji tells Karina. "That juicy ass is so sexy," Yeji tells her as Karins swings her butt back and forth. 

Yeji tastes your cock deep in her throat to make it even wetter for Karina's tight hole. "Taste my ass; lick every inch of that big fucking cock," Karina tells her. "Shove it back in my asshole; I need it so bad," she continues, to which Yeji obliges.

Yeji now gets even nastier, licking your shaft trying to follow Karina's bounce. "Give it to me," Karina whispers as Yeji puts you on the edge with her insane cock-licking and ball sucking. "You've got such a nice ass; I want to see you smash that booty on his big fucking dick," she tells Karina.

"Oh shit yes, that cock is so big in my asshole; I love how deep it gets inside me," Karina says as she keeps twerking and squatting on it. Yeji now gropes her best friend's boobs as she bounces on her boyfriend's cock. "I love riding that fucking dick with my asshole, yes, yes, yes," Karina tells her, moaning harder. "And I love watching you ride it; you've got such a hot ass, Rina," Yeji replies.

"Stretch me out, baby; I won't stop until you cum in my ass," Karina says. "Such a fucking dirty girl, the perfect cum slut," Yeji says, enjoying Karina's insane squatting on her boyfriend's dick. "Look how hard this dirty slut rides; she really wants your cum, baby," Yeji talks.

"Your boyfriend is living his best life now, Yeji, jerking off his big cock in my tiny little asshole, fulfilling the dream of every guy in this country," Karina says, flaunting about her assets as her asscheeks clap loudly against your hips. "Bounce on that fucking dick until he cums," Yeji says. 

Although you are quite tired, you finally decide to take matters into your own hands, getting up the bed and lifting Karina up to carryfuck her in the ass. Yeji slides under your body, sucking your balls as you pound Rina's butthole. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, POUND THAT ASSHOLE, GIVE IT TO ME. SHITTT!" Karina screams, her big tits bouncing really hard as you take every opportunity to suck them as soon as they get within reach.

"CUM INSIDE ME BABY, CUM IN THAT TINY LITTLE ASSHOLE, SHOW YOUR GIRLFRIEND HOW MUCH YOUR BIG COCK LOVES IT," Karina begs. "DON'T STOP, USE THAT ASSHOLE UNTIL YOU FILL IT UP WITH YOUR SPERM," she continues to shout. Yeji uses her hands to stroke your cock as you pound her friend. "JERK THAT FUCKING COCK INSIDE ME, MAKE IT BUST," Karina orders.

Yeji's stimulation is too much for you to resist as you explode hard inside Karina's tight butthole, lifting her body completely and flaunting about the gape you left in her asshole like it's your personal trophy. Your cum starts dripping down it and lands straight on Yeji's mouth for her to taste. "Wow, that asshole got such a nice flavor with my boyfriend's salty and sweet cum," Yeji says.

"Bring her down; I want her to taste it," Yeji orders as you put Karina back on her feet and the two start kissing each other and swapping your semen in their mouths. "Such a nice, hot, and sticky load, isn't it?" Yeji asks Karina. "Yes, it's perfect; I can't wait to do this again," Karina replies.

Karina gets her clothes back on and leaves your apartment. What a fool you were for thinking Yeji no longer loved you. After today, you had no doubts; she was the best girlfriend ever. And more than that, the nastiest, dirtiest, and sluttiest of them all.

"So, baby, who do you want me to bring to you next time to fuck her ass?" Yeji asks. "But you can't say Karina," she continues.

"Honestly, any girl, you're such a good girlfriend to me," you tell her.

"Wait and see, I already have someone in mind," Yeji says, kissing your cock for one final time and licking the remnants of cum out of it.

"I can't wait," you say, kissing her as you collapse into your bed.

[apartmentsmoke]

Evan tells Tommy that he's babysitting Jee, but he still really wants to spend time with Tommy, if Tommy doesn't mind - and Tommy accepts. Jee's part of Evan's family, and Howie's family, and how bad can hanging out with a three-year-old - almost four, he is told by her in the car - be anyway? What he's expecting is a night on the couch watching Frozen. (Kids still like that, right?) Maybe tea parties. What he does not expect is that Evan already has an outing planned to Chuck-E-Cheese. Surprise - Chuck-E-Cheese still exists. He would've sworn they went bankrupt back in 2020.

He's not sure what Jee is going to think of him, but she remembers him from the hospital as "Uncle Buck's dirty friend" and accepts his presence easily enough. She keeps her hand in Evan's as they walk into Chuck-E-Cheese. It's one of the cutest things Tommy's ever seen. There's a thousand kids around, laughing and crying and shouting. He only has to focus on one, he tells himself, and lets Jee lead him and Evan through the maze of games. She stops at a claw machine and demands that her Uncle Buck win her a rabbit toy. After ten minutes, fifteen dollars, and Tommy tagging in, they finally succeed. The next two hours are filled with more exploitative games, the greasiest fucking pizza Tommy's ever had, and Jee spending five minutes deliberating between two similarly-colored bouncy balls to exchange for her tickets. Throughout it all, Evan's patience never wavers, even when they lose Jee for five minutes in the crowd and have to search for her. She's hiding under the air hockey table.

Tommy's doing his best to keep up. He's led all over the place, recruited to help with games, and tries to make sense of Jee's non-sequiturs. While they're standing in line for the bouncy ball, Evan nudges him. There's a big smile on his face. "I know this isn't an ideal date. Thanks for being here." "Of course," Tommy says, and he nudges Evan back. "I like getting to know your family, Evan." It's not what he expected, but seeing first-hand how full of love Evan's family is, how much love he has for them - he wouldn't trade it. Not even for the bluest bouncy ball. Evan's smile grows even wider. They're almost out the door when Jee spots a photo booth and hones in. "I wanna photo," she says, tugging at Evan's hand, and Tommy dutifully follows along. He'll - wait out here, he guesses, while Evan and Jee take their photo. They wouldn't all fit, anyway. It's a little awkward, hanging around the photo booth, but it's fine. They disappear behind the curtain for a moment and Tommy can hear Jee's high, insistent voice and Evan chuckling and responding, though he can't make out the words. Jee and Evan poke their heads out a second later. "You too!" Jee says, and Evan echoes her with a grin. "Yeah, you too. Get in here." They quickly learn there is no way the photo booth is going to fit them all. Tommy fits maybe a third of his body in. Evan frowns, then lights up again. "Hey, Jee, why don't we get out for a second? Then Tommy can sit down and I can sit on his lap and you can sit on my lap. Okay?" "Okay," she says, so Tommy squeezes in, and a second later Evan plops all two hundred pounds of himself and thirty pounds of Jee onto his lap.

"Evan," he hisses, and Evan grins at him, unrepentant. "Smile for the camera, Tommy," he says, and Tommy finds that his smile comes easily, especially when Evan turns to kiss his cheek on the last photo. After they scrabble out of the photo booth, Evan looks down at the strip of photos and their wide, grinning faces. "Oh, yeah. That's going on the fridge for sure." "For sure," Jee repeats for emphasis, and looks up at Tommy expectantly. "For sure," he says, and he's met with twin smiles.

[this fic has matching art by @aringofsalt! it's adorable and you should definitely go take a look]

[flowersforbucky]

diet pepsi

logan howlett x reader - 2.8k words

summary: old!logan x reader limousine sex. inspired by the song diet pepsi by addison rae

author's note: i recently rewatched logan and haven't been able to stop thinking about what it would be like to have him in the backseat of that limousine. then i heard this song a few days ago and knew exactly what i had to write.

warnings/tags: smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m&f receiving), pet names (princess, honey), reader has kinda longish hair (nothing too specific), a little angsty but mostly fluffy? happy ending, reader is afab, no use of of y/n, 18+ only mdni

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when we drive in your car, i'm your baby

losing all my innocence in the backseat

say you love, say you love, say you love me

losing all my innocence in the backseat

The cab of the limousine reeks of leather and smoke - both stale and fresh, from the cigars he has chain smoked over the last few days and two thousand miles - give or take a few.

It's a scent you've grown surprisingly fond of. You know that no matter how long this thing between the two of you lasts, you'll forever associate the smoky sweet aroma of tobacco with him.

You've been laying down across the backseat for the last few hours, trying and failing to get some sleep at Logan's request, as he drives from Reno back to New Mexico. The two of you had left the familiar comfort of the abandoned smelting plant three days ago in search of a bulk supply of Charles’ medications - a search that led you to Nevada and yielded a six month supply of injections and pills.

You sit up in the middle of the seat, meeting Logan's gaze in the rearview mirror.

He's exhausted. He’d never admit it to you, but you know him better than he likely realizes. He's hanging on by a thread.

The digital clock on the dashboard reads it's just past noon. Another four hours and some change to go.

Asking him to pull over and rest for his own sake would be a fruitless waste of time, this much you know from the drive to Reno. What was supposed to be at least a seventeen hour drive turned into a fifteen hour drive as he sped the whole way and only stopped for the absolutely necessary food, bathroom, and gas breaks. Only after obtaining the crates of medicine did he allow himself the simple luxury of a few hours sleep.

“What's that look for, princess?” he asks as he breaks his stare, his eyes snapping back to the endless expanse of the blazing asphalt in front of you.

“I'm hungry,” you shrug with a sly grin. “And I need some coffee. And I miss you.”

He lets out a low laugh, a smirk forming across his features in the reflection of the glass. You don't miss the way his fingers grip the cracked leather of the steering wheel tighter at the words I miss you.

“We'll stop for something to eat soon, I promise.”

You hum in response, moving from your position on the further bench seat to the one that rests against the driver’s and front passenger’s seat, directly behind him. You lean your chest against the backrest, dangling one arm across the seat so that you can bring your hand to stroke the prominent stubble across his jaw.

“And what about the last thing?” you murmur, running your thumb along his bottom lip as you stare at him. He tenses beneath your touch but doesn't take his eyes off of the road before him.

“I'm right here, princess. Don't gotta miss me.”

“You know what I mean.”

He's barely touched you since you had first left New Mexico three days ago - and you understand why, truly. He's been focused on getting to Reno, getting the medication, and getting the fuck back home before the last few days worth of Charles’ injections and pills are gone. Even when you stopped at a random motel for a few hours of shut eye, you were both too exhausted to do anything other than sleep.

In fact, it was the first time that you've slept in a bed together without him being between your legs. You didn't mind it all - the simplicity and the intimacy of just sleeping curled into each other was something you'd always cherish from this trip.

But you’d be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t aching to have him in all of the ways that you’re so used to having him.

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” he sighs, kissing the side of your thumb that still rests along his bottom lip. It's pathetic how the small act has you ready to crawl over the seat and straddle him. “We're almost home, though. Don't you want me to shower first?” he teases.

You know that both of you have to smell something foul - the motel you'd stayed in didn't even have a functioning shower, and the western United States heat is no joke this time of year. You both did the best you could with the bathroom sink and some baby wipes that you snagged from the gas station across the road, but whore's baths and deodorant just don't quite cut it in ninety-five degree weather.

“No, I don't,” you admit - you can't even bring yourself to care if it's pathetic. You bring your face closer to his, your nose nuzzling just under his ear. “I want you to pull over, get in the back of this car, and let me ride you until we both come.”

He hisses when your lips lock around the tender flesh of his earlobe, causing him to swerve and quickly correct back into the right lane.

“Fuckin hell,” he grunts, knuckles gripping the wheel so tight that they start to turn white. “Can't be saying that shit when I'm driving. Gonna make me wreck this thing.”

You laugh into the side of his neck, trailing wet kisses along his skin. “I'd suggest pulling over, then.”

He sighs again, all but melting into your touch now. You know you're getting your way when he flips on the turn signal and looks over his shoulder before merging right and then pulling off on the side of the desolate highway.

“You know that you've got me wrapped around your little finger, don't you?” He asks as he unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the limousine, slamming the driver's door behind him before you can respond. You move back to your original position on the back bench seat as he crawls in with you, pulling a spare key from his pocket to lock the still-running vehicle.

“Wrapped around my little finger is exactly where I intend to keep you.” He smiles - the first real smile you've seen from him in days and you melt a little inside. He kneels on the felt carpet before you, splaying his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmurs into the flesh of your thighs, his facial hair tickling the bare skin. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of both your shorts and panties and you raise off the seat a few inches, giving him the clearance to tug them down past your ankles. You're left in nothing but a thin cotton tank top, your nipples pebbling from the way he's looking up at you.

“Cause that's exactly where I like to be.”

It's a rare occurrence that the two of you exchange such sweet sentiments - he usually only goes as far as whispering my girl in your ear as he sheaths himself inside you after late nights at work, when he comes home with lips that taste like single malt whiskey.

He loops his arms around the backs of your legs and tugs you forward on the seat, bringing your cunt directly to his mouth. Any sense of hesitation he initially had about hooking up on the side of the highway goes out the window as soon as his tongue licks a thick strip from your hole and up to your clit. You hiss, digging the fingernails of one hand into the old, weathered leather of the seat and bringing your other to lace your fingers through the salt and pepper colored locks of his hair.

As tired as he is from days of driving and very little sleep, you would never be able to tell with the fervency of his tongue lapping your folds. He always eats you like it’s the last time he ever will - and knowing Logan as well as you do, there’s always that chance that it very well could be.

So, you grab his hair and pull him as close to you as he can possibly be and revel in every lick, every kiss, every tug of his lips around your clit as he makes you believe that the two of you could have a lifetime of these moments together.

You can already feel that tell-tale warmth blooming in the pit of your abdomen when he brings a singular finger to your hole and plunges it inside you. Your walls constrict around the digit and he groans against your clit, the vibration spurring you closer to the edge of your climax. You grind yourself into his mouth as he sinks his tongue inside you, your back arching off of the seat and your eyes rolling into your head.

He pulls his tongue from inside you and moves his mouth up to your clit once more, locking his lips around the nub and pulling away with a wet pop that sends you over the edge. You ride out your orgasm on his face, writhing until he pulls his finger out of you. You’re still seeing rainbows of colors and stars when he brings the wet finger to your mouth and shoves it past your lips, swirling the sweet tang of your juices around in your mouth.

“You taste that?” he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your mouth and inserting it in his own. He takes his time, cleaning the last remnants of your slick from the digit. “That’s how you’ve got me so wrapped around your finger.” His words make your head spin, like you’ve had one too many shots of his favorite bourbon that he always keeps a steady supply of.

“Your turn.” Your words even sound slurred as you bring your fists to his chest, urging him backwards onto the seat opposite of you. You take his place on the floor of the limousine, crawling towards where he’s now lounging with his large thighs already spread wide for you.

You’re about to reach for the button of his jeans when he leans forward, grabbing the tail-end of your tank top and quickly tugging it over your head. You’re left bare before him and you’re hit with a wave of relief that these windows are tinted beyond what’s legal in the state of New Mexico.

His eyes travel from your thighs and up your stomach as he sweeps your hair over your shoulders, giving him an unhindered view of your breasts.

“My girl,” he hums, not taking his eyes off of you as he pops the button at the top of his pants and tugs down the zipper. “My pretty girl.”

“Yours,” you agree, butterflies mixing with arousal in your gut as you help him pull the restrictive fabric of his jeans and boxers down until they bunch around his ankles. His cock springs free, hard and leaking pre-cum down around the head.

You feel saliva pool in your mouth at the sight. As many times as you've had his impressive length inside you, you don't think it'll ever not make your mouth water.

You take the base of him in one hand, languidly pumping him as you lean forward, gathering all of the spit in your mouth and releasing it over the tip of his cock. You continue to stroke him, smearing the wetness down his length.

He groans, deep and guttural as he throws his head back against the seat. You can't see, but you know that his eyes have snapped shut at the pleasure.

When you've got him fully lubricated, you ease the tip of him into your mouth and swirl your tongue around his head. He brings a hand to the back of your head and pulls you forward, cramming more of himself into your mouth. You open wider to accommodate his length as it juts against the back of your throat.

“Fuck, honey,” he grunts when you pause to adjust to the stretch that you're feeling in your jaws. “You always take me so well. Never had anyone make me feel as good as you do.”

You moan around his dick at the praise, feeling your own arousal budding again in your lower belly. You pull back until only half of him is left inside your mouth, and then slowly begin to bob up and down, the tip of him repeatedly jabbing against the back of your throat. What little of his length that you can't take at one time, you continue to stroke in your hand. Your free hand comes to cup his balls, massaging them in rhythm with the thrusts of your mouth on his cock. You can feel tears begin to leak out of the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks from the lack of oxygen.

Right when you feel him begin to twitch against your tongue, he threads his fingers through your hair and yanks you off of him.

“You said you wanted to ride me until we both came, yeah?” He wraps his hands around the tops of your arms, pulling you upwards and onto his lap. You're too light headed to speak so you just nod quickly, adjusting your position across his lap. His cock is pressed against his lower stomach, lodged between the wet lips of your cunt and his happy trail.

“I want you to do just that.” He grabs you by the hips, pulling you forward along his shaft. You raise up on the balls of your feet as he takes himself in his fist, running his tip through your folds to lubricate himself with your juices before stopping at your hole. He juts his hips upwards at the same time that you sink down, causing the entirety of his length to be sheathed inside you at once.

“Oh my god,” you groan as you adjust to the sheer size of him. He always stretches you so painfully sweet. You steady yourself with your hands on his broad shoulders, realizing that he’s still in a two day old t-shirt. He reads your mind and yanks the fabric over his head. You take in the sight before you - all of the defined planes of his chest, his body hair that you love to run your fingers through when you’re riding him, that one vein that bulges on his bicep that you just want to trace with your tongue -

You raise up again, until he’s almost all the way out of you and only the head of his cock remains inside you before you sink back down all at once, earning an animalistic growl from him. You repeat the ministrations until you have acclimated to his size. You begin to increase your speed, the sound of your ass bouncing off of his thighs echoing around the limited space of the limosuine’s cab.

“So goddamn tight,” he spits through gritted teeth, one hand coming to plant a firm grasp on your asscheek. He digs his fingers into the meat with enough force to leave bruises but it only spurs on your movements. You liked it - the idea of being marked by him, even if it wasn’t something that anyone else would ever be able to see. “Always feel like you were made for me.”

You let out a pathetic whimper at his words, not knowing what to say or do to convey your emotions in that moment other than to lower your lips to his. He immediately opens his mouth to you, letting your tongue inside to merge with his. His taste was so comforting and familiar to you - tobacco and peppermint and something uniquely Logan. You didn’t think you’d find a flavor quite like it in anyone else, and you never wanted to test that theory.

“I was,” you whine breathlessly when you finally pull away. “Was made for you.”

He begins to meet your bounces with thrusts of his own, hitting the sweet spot of your cervix just right with each movement.

“Say it,” he grunts - you can tell he’s close by his movements growing erratic beneath you. “Wanna hear you say that you’re mine.”

You can feel your second orgasm building with every word that he says. He brings his free hand in between your bodies, finding your clit right away. He massages you with his thumb and you come around his cock with a cry of his name.

“I am,” you pant through your orgasm as he continues to thrust up into you. “I am yours, I’ve been yours, just yours.” Your admission sends him over the edge and he spills into you from below, both of his arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling your bare chest against his.

“You mean that?” he murmurs against the sweat-coated skin of your collarbone. You lean back enough to look down at him, cradling his jawline in the palm of your hand.

“I do,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. “But only if you’re mine, too,” you add with a small, nervous laugh.

“I've been yours since the day we met, princess. Just had a hard time believing you could want me in the same way.”

You snort a laugh at the confession that sounds so ridiculous to you, and then bring your lips to his once more to show him just how badly you absolutely do want to be his.

thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are always very appreciated 💕

other logan works by me: straight to my head • claw kink drabble • dog tag drabble

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

my kingdom for a function that will let you choose to exclude specific, individual posts from searches without having to shadowban your entire blog. i cannot overstate how much of this webbed site's most vicious drama this would have averted over the years. PLEASE staff for the love of god do this one thing i beg you it is not too late

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 5 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical, from naoya not satoru)

ꨄ words: 8.3k

ꨄ a/n. here we go guys 🫣 idk what to even say, so i'll see ya'll at the bottom. enjoy♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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ch 5 // a leap of faith

You stare out the window of Satoru’s limousine, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as the world rushes by—but your thoughts are too loud to let you fully take it in.

You’d think the upcoming interview at the gala would be your primary concern, considering that’s where you’re currently headed, but instead, your mind is trapped in a loop—the memory of Satoru’s phone call.

Do you really know him at all?

The bone chilling temper you overheard has left you questioning everything, only heightening your doubts in him.

There was something in his voice that you can’t shake—a bite that fills you with fear, a kind of fear that whispers in the back of your mind, warning that one day his icy detachment could be directed at you the moment you fail him.

Satoru sits across from you in the luxurious backseat, but despite the close proximity, it feels as though a vast distance separates you now—a chasm of unspoken thoughts and lingering doubts.

And you—so consumed by the questions swirling in your mind—fail to notice that Satoru is watching you—his gaze steady, searching, as if he’s trying to read something in your expression.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” he observes, “Is everything okay?”

You stiffen, pulse quickening.

Fuck.

Can he see right through you? Does he know about the doubts gnawing at you, the secrets you’ve been keeping?

His eyes search your face for something you’re not ready to reveal, and your defenses go up instinctively.

“I’m fine,” you blurt out, but the moment the words leave your lips, you inwardly cringe, the tonality of your voice holding an unintentional harshness.

Well, shit… it wasn’t meant to come out like that. But it did.

He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Uh…you sure?”

“Yes,” you counter abruptly, too abruptly, and your gaze darts away from his as if meeting his eyes might unravel the carefully constructed facade you’re desperately clinging to.

You feel the anxiety begin to bubble, threatening to spill over, and as your eyes fix on the window, you watch the world blur by, anything to avoid the weight of his scrutiny.

But Satoru’s sapphire eyes remain steady, unwavering. He rakes a hand through his tousled white hair and lets out a soft sigh, laced with a quiet frustration.

“You know… we’ve been living together for a while now,” his tone gentle, yet probing, “I think I can pick up when something’s up. You’re not as good at hiding it as you think. I mean, you tried to put the TV remote in the fridge this morning.”

A flush of embarrassment colors your cheeks.

Okay…rude, why does he have to call you out like that? Yeah sure, you have been out of it today—but how can you not be? The pressure you’re feeling is unbearable.

You let out a small, forced laugh, trying to brush it off, but there’s a hint of defensiveness in your tone.

“Uhh, it’s called ‘mom brain,’ Satoru.”

He furrows his brow, his expression softening even as a playful grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Mom brain? What the heck is that?”

Your eyes meet his for a brief moment, and in that split second, you catch a glimpse of the genuine concern lurking behind his playful facade. Your heart drops at the sight, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.

Dammit, why does he have to look at you like that?

Why does he have to make this so much harder?

The frustration bubbles up inside you, not just at the situation, but at him—at the whole confusing mess that’s become your life. You don’t know what to believe anymore, and that uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you feeling raw and exposed.

You break eye contact, looking away from him yet again, and an exasperated sigh escapes your lips.

“It’s what happens when you’re a mom and you’ve got a million things on your mind at once. Sometimes, your brain just… short circuits. It’s like, where did I put the keys? Oh, they’re in the fridge next to the remote. No big deal.”

Satoru chuckles, the sound low and warm. For a moment, it feels like the tension might ease.

“Sounds like a pretty convenient excuse to me,” he remarks playfully, but as his voice softens, the teasing edge gives way to genuine concern.

His gaze turns serious as his eyes search yours, intent and piercing, as if he’s trying to see past the walls you’ve put up.

“Mom brain or not… I know you, y/n. And I know when something’s really bothering you.”

Double fuck.

There’s a moment of panic, a fear that he might see right through you. The truth you’ve been burying deep inside threatens to surface, and the pressure of keeping it hidden feels suffocating.

You can’t let him see it. You can’t let him know.

“I’m…I’m just nervous about the interview,” you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate attempt to deflect, to steer him away from the dark, treacherous waters he’s unknowingly wading into.

But the excuse feels flimsy, like a poorly constructed lie that could crumble under the slightest scrutiny—and so you reach deep within yourself, trying to find a way to make it more believable.

“Not everyone can be like you Satoru, all carefree with no worries in the world. Must be nice.”

The moment the words escape, you feel them slicing through the air, sharp and jagged, and you know you’ve made a mistake. Regret twists in your gut like a knife, its cold blade cutting deep as you realize the bitterness laced in your voice, bitterness that surprises even you.

Triple fuck.

What the hell are you doing? Why are you attacking him like this?

The resentment, the fear, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy—all of it comes crashing to the surface, bubbling over before you can shove it back down where it belongs.

Great. Now you’re lashing out, emotions spiraling out of control, your composure slipping through your fingers like sand.

You can practically see the words hanging in the air between you, ugly and heavy, and the guilt that follows is instant, a crushing weight on your chest.

God, get it together.

For a moment, Satoru says nothing, his expression unreadable. You can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or simply trying to process your outburst.

You bite your lip, a nervous habit you’ve never been able to shake, and you force yourself to look away. Satoru does the same, both of your eyes falling yet again on the familiar blurred scenery outside the window, searching for answers that aren’t there.

The silence stretches, thick with tension, until finally, Satoru shifts across from you. He turns his head just enough that you catch the movement out of the corner of your eye, and you force yourself to glance back at him.

The corners of his mouth twitch upward, but there’s no humor in the gesture, just a faint, almost imperceptible sadness.

“You think I don’t worry?” he murmurs, voice so quiet you almost don’t catch it.

The rawness in his tone cuts through you like a blade, slicing through the walls you’ve built around your heart.

You turn to face him fully, really looking at him, and for the first time, you notice the subtle signs of weariness etched into his features—the shadows beneath his eyes, darker and more pronounced than you remember, the way the light in his eyes seems… dimmed, like a flame that’s burning too low.

Has he always looked this… tired? Or is it only now that you’re seeing it?

“Well…you’re always so confident and composed. It’s hard to even imagine you worrying,” you admit softly, and the defensiveness that had been there moments ago slips away like water through your fingers. “You’re able to handle all this with such ease. It’s like… nothing ever phases you.”

Satoru lets out a soft, almost bitter chuckle, the sound tinged with disbelief, as if your words are some kind of cruel joke.

“Yeah, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he shakes his head slightly, “It’s not that I don’t worry. It’s that I can’t show it. People expect me to be… well, this,” he gestures vaguely to himself, “Confident, capable, always in control.”

You blink. The realization hitting you like a wave, washing over you and leaving you unsettled.

All this time, you’ve seen him as an invincible force, someone who could handle anything with a smile, who never let the pressures of his life touch him. You’ve relied on that image, drawn strength from it, without ever questioning the reality behind it.

But that’s not the case, is it?

Beneath the polished exterior, behind the confident facade, he’s been playing a role, just like you. He’s been hiding his fears and insecurities, presenting a version of himself that the world expects to see, while the real him remains concealed.

Your heart aches at the thought, a pang of guilt threading through the tenderness you feel for him. He’s been carrying this burden, this expectation of perfection, and you’ve been too wrapped up in your own struggles to see it.

You were right—you truly don’t know the real him. But… you want to. Desperately.

You take a deep breath, eyes searching his face for the truth behind his words.

“But… why?” you ask gently, “Why is it so important to you to keep up this image? Why can’t you just… be yourself?”

There’s a moment of silence, a heartbeat where you think he might not answer, where the vulnerability in his eyes seems to retreat behind the familiar walls he’s built. But then, he speaks, and the words that spill from his lips are raw, tinged with a quiet resignation that cuts through you.

“Because ‘myself’ isn’t good enough,” he admits quietly. “Not in this world. Not with the expectations people have of me.”

The sheer weight of his words, pierces through you, and your heart aches with an almost unbearable tenderness. There is a deep vulnerability in his admission, and the need to reach out, to comfort him, burns within you.

But would he even accept it? Could you close this growing chasm between you, this distance that feels both vast and fragile?

“But Satoru, who says you have to meet these expectations?” you whisper, voice trembling with emotion.

He lets out a bitter laugh, the sound devoid of any real humor, and the gesture is almost painful to witness, as if he’s mocking himself more than anything else. When his eyes finally meet yours, there’s an emptiness in them that chills you to the core, as though he’s become a shell of the person he once was.

“I’m a Gojo, y/n. There’s a certain… standard that comes with that name. It’s not just an image, it’s a legacy.”

He pauses, his gaze drifting away from yours and settling on the passing scenery outside the window yet again. There’s something almost haunting in the way he stares out, as if he’s lost in a world you can’t reach.

“People look at me and they see the name before they see the person. And if I don’t live up to that legacy… if I don’t maintain it…”

“—but doesn’t that mean you’re living for them, and not for yourself?” you interject softly, the question hanging in the air between you like a lifeline.

Satoru’s eyes flicker to yours quickly, a flash of something unidentifiable crossing his features, but then he looks away again, his gaze returning to the window. This time, there’s a distant sadness in his eyes, a melancholy that seems to settle over him like a heavy shroud.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice who you are just to fit into a mold that someone else created. That’s not living, Satoru. That’s just… existing.”

The silence that follows is thick and palpable, stretching out between you as if the very air around you has become denser. You watch him closely, searching his face for any sign that your words have reached him, that they’ve touched something deep within.

But as the moments pass, a new question begins to form in the back of your mind, creeping in slowly with an undeniable urgency.

Is Satoru truly happy with this life he’s been forced to live?

Or has he become so accustomed to the role he’s been given, the expectations he’s been made to carry, that he’s forgotten what it means to live for himself?

The smile he often wears—the one that dazzles everyone around him—feels different now as you think about it. It seems less like a genuine expression of joy and more like a carefully crafted mask, designed to hide the cracks beneath.

But then there’s the smile you’ve seen when he’s with you and Haru, one that’s softer, more genuine, like a fleeting glimpse of the man he could be if he weren’t weighed down by the immense burden of his family’s legacy.

If Satoru were truly as calculating, as cold and self-serving as you once thought, then why does he seem so… trapped?

Why does it feel like he’s just as much a prisoner of his circumstances as you’ve felt in your own life?

The thought sends a pang of guilt through you, a realization that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been too quick to judge, too quick to believe the worst without truly understanding the complexities of the man sitting in front of you.

You know that feeling all too well—the suffocating pressure to be someone you’re not, to live up to the expectations others have placed on you.

It’s a burden you wouldn’t wish on anyone, least of all someone who, despite everything, has shown you kindness and care.

“You know…there was a time in my life when I was just… existing, too,” you murmur, the words fragile yet heavy as they slip from your lips.

His eyes flicker to yours briefly, a small spark of interest igniting in the blue depths, but he doesn’t turn to face you. His posture remains angled toward the window, his gaze distant and unfocused, as if the world outside holds the answers he’s searching for.

“When I was with Naoya,” you continue, the name tasting bitter on your tongue, “it felt like every day was a performance. I had to be what he wanted, do what he expected, or face the consequences. It was like I was living in a cage, unable to be myself because ‘myself’ wasn’t what he wanted.”

You steal another glance at him, wondering if he understands, if he sees the parallels between your experiences. The memories flood back with each word you utter, their weight pressing down on your chest.

“I was just going through the motions, trying to survive,” you admit, voice trembling slightly. “It was… exhausting. Pretending to be someone I wasn’t, always afraid of what might happen if I let the mask slip.”

Satoru remains silent, his profile bathed in the soft glow of the city lights as they pass by outside the window—but, in the dim light of the limousine, you catch sight of his expression—thoughtful, pensive, as if your words have found their way into a place in his mind where he rarely allows anything to dwell.

“It sounds… suffocating,” he finally says, his voice quiet, almost reverent. His gaze remains on the world outside the window, though you know his words are meant for you. “Living like that, always having to be someone else. I can imagine… how hard that must have been for you.”

“It was,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart drops as you experience a sudden realization—a realization that…with Satoru you are falling into that same pattern.

Forcing yourself to put on this façade of being the perfect wife of a Gojo—trapped in a life that doesn’t feel like yours, performing a role that someone else wrote for you.

How is it that your entire life, you have been a victim of control—first by Naoya, the man you once loved, and now by Satoru, the man you are beginning to care for?

All you have ever wanted is what’s best for you daughter.

“But… I did what I needed to do, for Haru’s sake.”

Haru’s sake.

The words echo in your mind, a reminder of the choices you’ve made, the sacrifices you endured to protect her. And as you sit across from Satoru in this limousine, another question lingers at the edge of your thoughts—a question that fills you with uncertainty.

…what is the right choice to make for Haru’s sake?

Would staying with Satoru mean condemning yourself to another life of pretenses and expectations? A life where you continue to lose pieces of yourself, where you’re forced to hide behind yet another mask?

You steal a glance at Satoru, searching his face for answers you’re not sure you’ll find. His expression, though calm, doesn’t give much away, and it only deepens your turmoil.

Could he break free of these shackles with you?

Could he let go of the image he’s been forced to uphold, and be the person he truly is, without fear of judgment or rejection? Without being dictated by the weight of legacy and obligation?

The questions whirl in your mind.

Do you risk telling him everything, laying your soul bare in the hope that he will abandon this life for you? That he will choose you and Haru over the cold, unyielding expectations that have bound him for so long?

Or do you betray the man you’ve come to admire so deeply, the man who, despite his outward strength, is already so fragile, so vulnerable, hidden behind a mask of confidence?

As the silence stretches between you, you realize that the answer to one question in particular might be more important than anything else.

Because if Satoru can’t break free—if he can’t be himself, even with you—then what kind of future could you possibly have together? What kind of life could you offer Haru if you’re both trapped in a web of lies and half-truths, forced to play roles that don’t fit?

Your heart clenches painfully at the thought, and for the first time, you begin to doubt whether you can keep playing this role, whether you can keep pretending that everything is okay when deep down, you know it’s not.

But…you want to believe in him. So, so badly.

You want to believe that Satoru is different, that he’s capable of more than just playing the part assigned to him. You want to believe that, together, you can carve out a life that’s real, that’s yours, free from the weight of expectation and the shadow of legacy.

The desire to believe in him, to trust him, is almost overwhelming, and it takes every ounce of your strength not to reach out to him, to demand answers, to plead for him to show you that he’s more than just the image he projects to the world.

“So how did you break free?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he’s afraid of the answer.

Your breath hitches as his words hang in the air, and for a moment, the weight of his question feels like it might crush you.

You let out a trembling exhale, your emotions teetering on the edge of control, threatening to consume you whole.

“Just… a leap of faith,” you manage.

The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve survived. And in that moment, you hope—no, you pray—that it’s enough.

Enough to show him that there’s a way out, that there’s more to life than the roles you’ve been forced to play. Enough to convince him that he can take that same leap, that he can be more than just the legacy he’s been bound to.

Because if he can’t… then you’re not sure you’ll survive another fall.

ꨄ︎

The rest of the car ride passes in an unusual, heavy silence, but as the limousine nears the dazzling venue that will soon thrust you both into the public eye, you steel yourself for what’s to come.

The quiet, introspective moments you shared with Satoru within the backseat of this vehicle start to morph into something else—an unspoken agreement that whatever doubts, fears, or conflicts surfaced during this ride must now be hidden, locked away beneath yet another carefully constructed facade.

After all—in this world you are both living in, there can be no room for hesitation, no cracks in the image you both must maintain.

Satoru straightens in his seat, his expression sharpening into the confident mask you’ve seen him wear so many times before—like an actor preparing for a role.

It’s as if every trace of the man who moments ago, shared his deepest insecurities with you is now tucked away, replaced by the flawless persona the world expects to see.

And the way he does it so effortlessly—well, it only intensifies the ache in your heart.

But you have no choice to follow suit—the night is just beginning, and so, just as he did, you force your own worries into the back of your mind as you too prepare to play your part.

The limousine comes to a smooth halt at the gala’s entrance, and your eyes widen in awe.

It’s not as if the last charity gala you attended wasn’t elegant, certainly it was, but this—this is on an entirely different scale, a spectacle of grandeur that borders on the surreal.

The venue—a massive hotel nestled in the heart of the city—stands like a beacon of luxury. Its grand entrance a marvel, adorned with sparkling lights that bathe the surrounding area in a warm, golden glow.

The red carpet stretches out like a river of crimson, flowing beside the gleaming wheels of limousines that pull up one after another.

Their doors open to reveal the crème de la crème of society—elegantly dressed attendees stepping out, their outfits glittering under the lights and the air filled with the lively murmur of conversation and bright flashes of cameras.

You recognize several faces in the crowd—renowned actors whose performances have moved you to tears, musicians whose songs have been the soundtrack to your life, influencers who have set trends you've tried to keep up with.

These are the people who’ve always seemed larger than life—whose lives have played out on magazine covers and in the flicker of movie screens. And now, here they are, mere feet away from you, mingling in the same space, breathing the same air.

God, this is terrifying.

You’ve stepped into the domain where every glance, every whisper holds weight—every word you utter, every expression that crosses your face, will be scrutinized, dissected, and judged.

The world is watching you.

Bright lights from cameras flare up, nearly blinding you as your foot touches the red carpet.

The media presence is quite overwhelming, and instinctively, you reach for Satoru’s hand, seeking some sort of anchor in the chaos—without even considering how, just moments ago, you could barely bring yourself to meet his eyes.

As soon as your fingers brush against his, you hesitate, unsure if it’s the right move.

You steal a quick glance at Satoru, trying to gauge his mood, to see if he’s feeling the same dissonance. But before you can pull away, he responds immediately, his hand closing around yours with a gentle squeeze, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His expression remains carefully composed, and he offers you a small, comforting smile—one that feels reassuring in its familiarity.

But… isn’t that just how it is between you two?

Pretending like nothing happened, like there isn’t a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.

His smile is a mask, you know that, but despite it all, it’s still a small comfort—a quiet reminder that, despite everything, you’re not alone in this.

At least, you’re in it together.

As Satoru leads you down the red carpet, carrying that familiar unshakeable confidence—the second skin he effortlessly slips into—you can’t help but feel a subtle tension in the air of attendees, an undercurrent you can’t quite shake.

Why is it that the media’s gaze feels sharper…more pointed, as though they’re all waiting with bated breath for the slightest crack in the façade, for a single moment of vulnerability to pounce on?

And you can’t help but feel like that crack might come from you.

You catch sight of the interview station ahead—a stage set for judgment with its sleek, modern setup. The charity event’s logo glows prominently against a backdrop, creating a space to remind everyone of the event’s significance, yet for you it feels more like a gauntlet.

Oh, God…

Suddenly everything feels unbearably heavy, magnified under the relentless scrutiny of so many watchful eyes: Naoya’s threat, loosing Haru, Satoru’s intentions and your conflicted feelings for him.

Guests are ushered forward one by one with rehearsed smiles and practiced answers ready for the waiting reporters, and microphones glisten under the harsh lights, capturing every word, every inflection, while cameras click and whir, immortalizing each moment.

Throughout the chatter, you overhear a famous actress gushing about the importance of supporting children in need, her voice carrying a practiced sincerity. Next to her, a well-known musician is cracking a joke, easing into the limelight as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They make it look so easy.

But for you, every step closer to the cluster of reporters feels like a step closer to the edge of a cliff. The knot in your stomach tightens, coiling like a snake ready to strike. The distance between you and the flashing cameras, the probing questions, the scrutinizing eyes—it’s closing in too fast, and there’s no escape.

This is it. This night will test your resolve and your ability to maintain this façade, perhaps more than any before it, and the cost of failure is far too high.

Satoru glances at you, his expression a mask of calm and composure, but there’s something more in the way his thumb traces soothing circles against your skin.

A silent reassurance—one not for the cameras. A promise that, despite everything that happened in the limo, despite the unresolved tension still hanging between you, he’s here.

He’s with you.

You look up at him, and for a moment, the noise and chaos around you fade into the background. In his eyes, you see a softness that’s only privy to you—a vulnerability that he keeps hidden from the world.

It’s a look that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest, a look that almost makes you believe that maybe everything will be okay.

“You ready?” he murmurs.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within, nodding slightly as you force a smile onto your face. The muscles in your cheeks feel tight, strained, but you hope—desperately—that it’s convincing enough.

“Yeah,” the word sticks in your throat. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

As the reporters spot you, you can practically feel their collective gaze zeroing in. The intensity of it is suffocating, and as you step into the designated interview area, the cameras flare to life, their bright lights nearly blinding you.

A female reporter steps forward, her smile bright and impeccably professional. She’s poised, microphone at the ready, her demeanor polished to perfection, as if she’s trained her whole life for this moment.

“Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, you both look absolutely stunning tonight,” she begins, voice smooth and tailored for the camera.

“Thank you,” Satoru responds effortlessly, slipping into his role with grace. “We’re both so honored to be able to attend.”

“You’re one of the most talked-about couples this evening,” the reporter continues, her eyes gleaming with interest as she watches you both closely. “Tell us, how does it feel to be here supporting such a noble cause?”

Your heart races, pounding so hard in your chest that you wonder if she can hear it over the noise of the crowd. But you can’t let it show—this is the moment where the facade must hold, where you must be the perfect wife, the perfect partner, the perfect everything.

And so, you force yourself to smile again—stepping into the role you’ve rehearsed in your mind a thousand times.

“We’re here to support a cause that’s very close to our hearts,” your voice is steady, though beneath the surface, you feel a faint tremor threatening to break through. “The work this charity does for children in need is truly incredible… and we’re honored to be a part of it.”

Satoru steps in smoothly, his voice rich with a warmth that seems to effortlessly draw everyone’s attention.

“Absolutely,” he adds. “As parents ourselves, we understand the importance of giving every child a chance at a brighter future. We’re here to do whatever we can to help make that happen.”

There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes it easy to forget the mask he wears, eliciting nods and approving smiles from the reporters.

For a moment, even you are almost convinced, but you know the script, know the words.

You catch a subtle glance he throws your way—a silent check-in, his eyes asking the unspoken question: Are you okay? And you manage a small, almost imperceptible nod in return, meeting his gaze briefly before turning back to the reporter.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” she responds. “And how have you both been? The public is so curious about Haru.”

Here it is—the anxiety settles as you transition from the safe ground of charity work to the more precarious territory of your personal life.

You can feel the eyes of the crowd on you, the cameras zooming in, capturing every flicker of emotion, every nuance of your body language—as though the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for you to falter.

Satoru’s hand releases yours only to wrap around your waist, pulling you close, and the warmth he provides brings you a fleeting moment of comfort.

“We’ve been great,” his smile unwavering. “Life has been busy, but we’re grateful for every moment we get to spend together with our little one. Haru keeps us on our toes, that’s for sure.”

There’s a practiced charm in Satoru’s voice, the kind that can turn any situation into a favorable one. You muster a smile, trying to match his composure, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, she does,” you add, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “It’s a whirlwind, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The reporter’s smile widens, clearly pleased with the smooth delivery, but there’s a lingering tension in the air, a sense that she’s searching for more, for a crack in the veneer.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about Haru,” her voice soft yet probing. “Many are wondering Satoru… is she your biological daughter?”

The question hangs in the air like a loaded gun, the implication sharp and clear.

The crowd seems to lean in, the cameras zooming closer, waiting for your reaction, for any sign of hesitation or discomfort.

But Satoru anticipated this moment—it was one of the questions he had prepared for, a part of the script meticulously crafted to navigate the murky waters of public scrutiny.

The media has been relentless, swirling with unanswered questions about Haru, speculating about who she is and what she’s like.

It’s no secret that you’ve both been fiercely protective of her, keeping her out of the spotlight, away from the prying eyes that would dissect her every move.

For that, you’ve always been deeply grateful to Satoru.

And so, he handles the question with the same effortless grace that he’s maintained throughout the evening.

He chuckles softly—a sound that feels almost disarming warm in its sincerity, as if the question is nothing more than a casual curiosity, easily addressed and dismissed.

“Haru is my daughter in every way that matters,” his tone firm yet kind. “She’s our pride and joy, and we love her more than anything in this world.”

His answer is flawless, designed to reinforce the image of a perfect family. Yet, as the conviction in his words leave his lips, you feel a surge of bittersweetness.

Haru deserves what he is saying…she deserves that reality.

But alas, it’s nothing more than a rehearsed line delivered in front of an audience that’s eager to believe in the fairy tale.

The reporter shifts slightly, her eyes gleaming with curiosity as she continues.

“I see. It’s clear that family is important to both of you. What’s the secret to balancing your high-profile lives with raising a young child?”

You force yourself to smile, the answer ready on your lips.

“We just focus on what’s important,” you begin, the words flowing smoothly despite the tightness in your chest. “We make sure to carve out time for each other and for Haru. It’s all about prioritizing what really matters.”

“It’s not always easy,” Satoru nods in agreement, “but we cherish our time away from the spotlight, and we’re very protective of Haru’s privacy. At the end of the day, we’re just like any other parent—we want what’s best for Haru, and we do our best to make that happen.”

Another perfectly crafted answer, one that’s sure to satisfy the reporter and the audience watching from behind their screens. You can almost see the checkmark being made in her mind—a box ticked off; a line drawn under the discussion of family life.

The reporter, sensing she’s reached the natural conclusion of the topic, shifts her stance slightly.

“Thank you for sharing. It’s clear that Haru is very lucky to have you both.”

Her gaze sharpens, the glint of professional interest cutting through the pleasantries.

“And what about your own relationship? How do you manage to keep the spark alive amidst all the chaos?”

Here it comes. The question you were dreading, the one you hoped she’d skip over.

It’s one thing to talk about Haru, to present a united front when it comes to your daughter...

But your relationship?

That’s a minefield, one littered with unspoken truths and half-hearted lies. And it sucks. It really sucks that Satoru has to deal with this kind of intrusion daily—a life where privacy is a luxury you can barely afford.

“Communication is key,” you begin, the words flowing out of you like second nature. Lies. “We make sure to talk about everything—our hopes, our fears, our plans.” Lies. “And we make an effort to have regular date nights, just to reconnect and remind ourselves of why we fell in love in the first place.” Lies.

As the words leave your lips, you can almost hear the hollow echo of them in your mind, a mantra you’ve repeated so many times it’s lost all meaning. You know it, and Satoru knows it, too.

But he plays his part flawlessly—lifting your hand to his lips, brushing a tender kiss on the back of it. It’s a small gesture, one that seems innocent enough, but you feel the weight of it—the expectation, the need to present a united front, to sell the illusion.

As the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin, your heart clenches with yearning.

“That’s right,” Satoru adds, his voice carrying that practiced sincerity that makes everything he says sound like the absolute truth. “We support each other, and I’m so lucky that y/n is my biggest cheerleader. We’re a team, and that makes all the difference.”

The reporter nods thoughtfully, her smile curling up in a way that suggests she’s found the narrative she’s been looking for.

“You know,” she begins, her tone shifting into something more conspiratorial, as if she’s about to reveal a tantalizing secret, “speaking of… you two have quickly become the talk of the town—everyone’s eager to know more about your story. Satoru, you were once considered the world’s most eligible bachelor, but now… here you are. How did this all begin?”

There it is—the question that forces you both to delve into the past, to recount a story that’s been polished and perfected, but one that still feels strangely disconnected from the reality you’re living.

You shift slightly in Satoru’s hold, the rehearsed answer poised on your tongue, designed to fit the narrative you both agreed upon—but before you can even open your mouth to speak, Satoru takes the lead.

“Well," he starts, calm and measured, "Y/n was looking for a new job, and I needed someone with her expertise. It was professional at first, but we just… clicked. Like it was meant to be.”

The familiar words from the script slip effortlessly from his lips, just like you practiced, and the interviewer’s eyes light up, clearly pleased with the response—at least on the surface. But there’s a glint in her eyes, a spark of curiosity that suggests she’s not quite done yet.

The microphone inches closer, capturing every word, every inflection, as if she’s trying to draw out something deeper, something more than the polished story you’re offering.

“That’s wonderful,” her voice takes a more intimate tone as she leans in. “But Satoru, what was it about y/n that made you realize she was the one? I mean, surely there was something that stood out, something that made you think, ‘This is the woman I want to spend my life with.’”

“I’ve always admired how she puts Haru first," he begins reciting the script, voice steady and composed. "Her dedication to being a mother, to making sure Haru has everything she needs, it’s something I truly respect…”

But then, there’s a pause—a brief, almost imperceptible silence that stretches time, making your heart skip a beat.

Did he just hesitate?

His gaze flickers to yours, and for a moment, the practiced facade slips. There’s a softness in his eyes that makes your breath catch—but before you can process it, he continues.

“Actually, you know… when I first met y/n, there was something about her that I couldn’t ignore. She was different from anyone I’ve ever met—strong, intelligent, and fiercely independent."

Wait… did he just change the script?

An unexpected flutter stirs in your stomach, and your pulse quickens as the weight of his words sinks in. This wasn’t part of the agreed-upon answer… so why is he veering off course?

Your eyes narrow slightly as you search his face, trying to decode the sudden change.

"It’s strange,” he continues, his voice softer now, more introspective, “because at first, I thought it was just her strength that drew me in."

A small, almost nostalgic smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and there’s a warmth in his expression that makes something inside you twist.

"But as I got to know her, I realized it was more than that. Y/n has this incredible ability to make everyone around her feel seen and valued… she’s honest, sometimes brutally so, but she’s also kind in a way that’s rare."

The interviewer’s expression changes, the curiosity in her eyes deepening as she senses a sincerity in his words.

Is he… speaking from the heart?

It feels like a quiet confession, one meant only for you, despite the audience that surrounds you both.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself holding it, afraid to let go of this moment, afraid to shatter the delicate truth he seems to be laying bare. His words wrap around you like a cocoon, drawing you in, making you feel both vulnerable and cherished in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

This isn’t the Satoru you’ve come to expect—the one who carefully controls every word, every expression, ensuring that nothing slips through the cracks. It’s as if he’s just lifted a curtain, showing you a glimpse of something real, something you didn’t think you’d ever see.

But why now? Why here, in front of all these people?

Is…he willing to take that leap of faith?

In that instant, the hope blooming inside you feels almost tangible, like a fragile flower unfurling its petals for the first time. It’s delicate, yes, but unmistakable, and it fills you with a warmth that you’ve longed for—something you thought you’d never find again. It’s enough to make you believe that maybe, just maybe, everything can change.

For so long, you’ve hidden behind masks, playing roles that never truly belonged to you. But now, if Satoru is willing to step beyond the boundaries you both created…

The world around you—the blinding lights, the flashing cameras, the buzz of the crowd—seems to fade into the background, blurring into insignificance.

All that remains is the two of you, as if you’ve stepped into a world of your own making, where nothing else matters.

Satoru shifts slightly, and when his eyes find yours, there’s a depth and intensity in them that you’ve never seen before.

It’s as if he’s seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you—not the roles you’ve played, not the masks you’ve worn, but you, the person beneath it all. In that moment, it feels like you’re the only person who matters.

“For the first time in my life, I feel like I have someone I can truly trust. Someone who doesn’t just see me as ‘Gojo Satoru,’ but as a regular person, with all my flaws and imperfections.”

Trust.

A knot forms in your chest, constricting each beat of your heart as Satoru’s confession echoes in your mind.

The burden of that single word feels unbearable as the guilt you’ve been suppressing resurfaces, suddenly making it hard to focus on anything else.

Here Satoru is, baring his soul to you in a way you never expected, revealing the depth of his feelings, his vulnerabilities, and all the while, you’ve been holding onto a secret—a lie that could shatter everything.

No… it’s not just a lie—it’s a betrayal, and the full weight of it settles on your shoulders, heavy and suffocating.

Fuck, you’re losing your composure.

You’re acutely aware of the cameras, their lenses trained on you, capturing every fleeting emotion that flickers across your face.

The pressure is immeasurable and you swallow hard, desperately trying to hold his gaze, to anchor yourself in the sincerity you see there, but your smile feels brittle, like it might crack at any moment.

Satoru leans in closer and instinctively, you want to pull away—terrified that the closer he gets, the more he’ll see, the more he’ll understand the depths of your turmoil. But you’re trapped, rooted in place, every movement scrutinized, recorded, and you know you can’t falter.

His breath is warm against your skin as he places a gentle kiss on your temple, a touch so gentle that it nearly undoes you. This wasn’t part of the script, unlike the calculated kiss on your hand earlier, and the tenderness behind it, is almost too much to bear.

When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, and his words—intended for the camera—feel like they’re meant for you alone.

“I guess you could say that y/n has this way of making me feel… grounded. Like I can be myself, and that’s enough.”

His words cut through you like a knife. What are you doing? You can’t keep lying to him, not after this.

As the crowd around you buzzes with life and the cameras continue to flash, capturing this moment of intimacy, all you can think about is the price you might pay for this secret you’ve kept.

Once he realizes you’ve been hiding this from him, will he ever be able to look at you the same way again? Will he still see you as someone he can trust?

This new fear surges forward, and you feel your composure slipping, the mask you wear cracking.

Fuck. Is it obvious?

Can they all see the turmoil roiling inside you, the fear that everything is about to come crashing down?

Is your panic written across your face, as clear as day for the world to see?

“That’s such a beautiful sentiment,” the reporter’s approving voice cuts through the haze, snapping you back to the present with a jolt.

But before you can fully regain your bearings, her gaze shifts, locking onto you with an intensity that makes your heart pound against your ribcage.

Her eyes seem to bore into you, searching for something beneath the surface, and suddenly, you’re terrified that she might find it.

“And how does it feel to hear him say that, y/n? To know that you have such a profound effect on someone like Satoru?”

The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, you’re frozen, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a physical force.

What are you even supposed to say?

You practiced for this, rehearsed the lines until they were second nature, but nothing could have prepared you for the raw honesty in Satoru’s words.

How does it feel?

God, the truth is, you don’t know how to feel—happy, surprised, comforted, terrified…there are too many emotions surging through you at this moment, too many to untangle and make sense of.

But…you have to say something, the world is watching.

Blood rushes in your ears, drowning out the noise of the crowd, and you force a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels, searching for the right words, the ones that will satisfy the reporter.

“It’s… I’m so lucky,” you manage to say, stammering slightly. “Knowing that I have that kind of impact on him… it’s an honor. I just hope I can continue to be that person for him.”

Is it enough?

The words feel hollow, a weak echo of the truth, but they’re all you can manage. You just hope they’ll hold the world at bay, at least for now.

The reporter nods, her professional smile unwavering, but you can’t shake the feeling she’s watching you closely, searching for any cracks in your veneer.

Her eyes linger on you for a moment longer, as if weighing the sincerity of your words, but then she steps back with a practiced ease, seemingly satisfied.

“Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with us, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As she moves away, you experience a fleeting sense of relief once the crowd’s attention shifts, the cameras swiveling to capture the next moment.

Satoru’s hand finds yours, guiding you away from the spotlight as the next couple in line takes your place under the glaring lights.

The silence between you is thick, and around you, the crowd blurs into a haze of indistinct faces and flashing lights.

You try to decipher Satoru’s mood, searching his face for any clue, but his expression remains an unreadable mask as you both maneuver through the throng of people, each step carrying you further from the intensity of the interview and deeper into the swirling uncertainty of the night.

Then, as you cross the threshold into the grand ballroom, the change in atmosphere is immediate with the soaring ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and the soft hum of polite conversations—yet, despite the grandeur surrounding you, your focus is entirely on the man beside you—the one who just moments ago bared a piece of his soul to you in front of everyone.

Almost instantly, Satoru is swarmed by people—important figures and familiar faces, all eager to exchange pleasantries with the man of the hour.

You watch as he slips effortlessly into casual conversation, his charm and charisma on full display—a scene you’ve witnessed countless times before.

But that’s because, to the outside world, nothing has changed—he’s the same confident, untouchable figure he’s always been. It’s as if the heartfelt words he spoke moments ago, laying his heart bare before you, were never uttered. As if they were just another part of the performance.

But you know better.

You saw the look in his eyes, felt the sincerity in his voice. And now, as he engages in yet another conversation, flashing that same easy smile, you can’t help but wonder…

What is he really thinking?

His gaze lingers on you as he effortlessly navigates each conversation, and there’s something in his eyes—an almost imperceptible signal, like he’s reaching out to you, a silent communication that only the two of you can understand.

You’ve made up your mind.

You want more with Satoru—something real, something unburdened by the lies and pretenses that have cast shadows over your relationship.

You can no longer allow this secret to fester, growing like a dark cloud that threatens to eclipse whatever light might still exist between you.

To truly move forward, you have to release the fear that’s been holding you back—you have to come clean, to trust him, just as he has placed his trust in you.

But you know the timing isn’t right—not here, not now, surrounded by the glittering facade of this world you’ve both learned to navigate so well.

When you finally lay bare the truth you’ve been hiding, hopefully Satoru will understand.

All you can do is wait, hope, and wonder what the night will bring.

hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading and supporting my fic 😭 i cannot tell you how much it brightens my day to read your comments! to be completely honest, i really wasn't expecting much with this fic, it has really transformed into something that i had no intention of doing, but the thing is, i'm really enjoying writing it, so SO much, and i'm glad ya'll are enjoying reading it 🥲🫶🏻 this is only 2/3rds of the original chapter 4 i wrote...lol. i still have to edit the last 1/3 (apparently i cannot stop yapping) so it just seemed right to split it up and let this section breathe a little bit too, it felt like a natural stopping point before we delve into y/n getting that closure with satoru. y/n finally got the push she needed to make up her mind 🥲 i know it took her a bit, but being in an emotionally abusive relationship has left her with a lot of trust issues, and seeing satoru open up to her made her realize that despite their differences, they are going through similar struggles. poor baby satoru 😭 he needs a hug. like my heart literally breaks for him. this chapter felt really vulnerable to write...maybe that's why i was so hesitant on posting it. like it just hurts my soul lol. anyways, i wanna let you know that with this month coming to an end, my schedule is going to be getting pretty busy as i will be starting classes. it's my first time returning to school after 10 years...and i'll be doing it while still being a mom and working. i'm literally gonna be feeling like y/n, juggling a lot (the mom brain is a REAL THING YA'LL) so if my updates take longer that is why. much love to you all, and again thanks so much 🤗 -aly 💕 → onto the next chapter ꨄ

taglist :

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer

@stevenknightmarc @maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@alwaysfreakingout @valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @evalynanne @tbzzluvr

[toruro]

— ✧ the cake in the back

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.

genre. smut, fluff

tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe

w/c. 3.8k+

a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day

"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.

mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.

"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"

the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.

"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"

"you already know it."

grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."

"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.

"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.

seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.

the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.

you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.

realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.

"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.

"new apron, huh?"

shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."

seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"

you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."

"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.

"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"

"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.

"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.

"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."

"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"

"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."

when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"

"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."

you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.

the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.

"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.

seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—

seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"

"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.

there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.

you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.

"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.

you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.

"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.

"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.

a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."

now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.

you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.

again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.

wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.

the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.

seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.

"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.

with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.

"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.

"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.

there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.

it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.

and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.

fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.

"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.

the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.

parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.

"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.

and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.

"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.

it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.

"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.

"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.

you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.

"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.

"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.

"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.

you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.

'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?

"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.

"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.

"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.

the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.

which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.

what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.

and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.

"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.

and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.

"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"

"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"

and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.

how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.

gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"

"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.

as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.

a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!

tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Quiet Confidence || One Night Stand!Gaz

Rating: E Words: 2.7K~ Pairing: ONS!Gaz x ONS!F!Reader CW: smut, cunnilungus, protected sex (implied), piv (implied), nudity. tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, one night stand, reader and kyle are both confident, kyle garrick is a munch, morning after talks. a/n: the gifs used do NOT reflect the reader's skin tone of physical appearance. / the original poster of the gifs below is @unstablecryptid but I could *not* get the gif search bar to fucking show me the gifs of elliot knight.

In all the units he's been in, be it the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment, or when he joined the SAS, or when he was doing resistance to interrogation training with the Marines, or, now, in the 141, one thing's for certain: Gaz is the worst person to have as a wingman.

Not because he doesn't know what he's doing. No, Kyle absolutely knows what he's doing. The issue is precisely that. He's a handsome lad with a playful demeanor and natural charisma. He fails at getting his mates a girl because the girl ends up wanting him.

And so no one asks for his help any more... and he stopped offering too.

But that doesn't mean that he stopped trying to get girls for himself.

Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz sit around a table in the corner of the packed pub, chatting amidst themselves.

It's become somewhat of a routine, before they all ship back home: they get together at a bar or pub, huddle around a table and each of them pays for a round of drinks before they part ways.

It's, in a way, a moment to decompress, unwind, and clear their heads, while also allowing them to be amidst civilians for a moment and 'turn off' the soldier mentality before they go home to see family (or whatever Ghost does).

It's always the same routine. Ghost pays the first round. Stops at the bar while the lads locate a table (or at least a wall to lean on), then marches back with four pints balanced perfectly on stiff arms. He's clinical, methodical. In, out. Goes to the bar, comes back.

Soap gets the next one. Goes to the bar, swaggering past the other patrons, shooting coy looks and little smirks at the women (and men) that catch his eye. Leans against the bar and takes his sweet. fucking. time. Spends longer chatting up the other people waiting for drinks and even the bartender than actually ordering and waiting. Then, he swaggers back. Sometimes empty-handed, sometimes with a number/username or two on his phone.

Price gets the next one. Just like Simon, he doesn't meander. He goes up to the bar, places his order, pays, and leans on his forearms while he waits. If he sees a pretty woman, he might side up to her and exchange a couple words. It rarely goes anywhere. But he doesn't seem to do it for the same reason Johnny (and Kyle) do. Mostly just to pass the time.

Kyle doesn't even put in effort at this point. And he's not even bragging when he says that. More often than not, when he's at the pub with his team, he's not there to look for a bird to spend the night with, he's there to say farewell before they go on leave. And yet, there's something about Kyle that makes women flock to him.

He finds himself being approached as he leans on the bar, eyes fluttering around the room, taking in the bottle and glasses on display behind the bartender, the patrons, the TV showing a football game high on the wall... And without fail a pretty woman will side up to him and try to make a move, give him her number...

Kyle would blame it on the fact he has a 'pretty face' as one of his ex-girlfriends would say, or maybe his shower routine, the fact he actually makes an effort to look and smell good, because it makes him feel good... But as one of his one night stands in the past year made a point to point out to him, he, allegedly, exudes a 'quiet confidence' about him.

Regardless of the cause, Kyle always returns to the table with hands overflowing with drink/pint glasses and his phone holding a handful of new numbers or instagram/snapchat handles... ones he does not plan on contacting.

-

You're sitting across the pub from the 4 men in the corner booth. They're in regular clothes but, from the way they sit and act, you can tell they're soldiers from the base a few kilometers away.

Your eyes keep finding their way to the pretty, dark skinned bloke that sits on the edge, his left side turned toward you, his lips pursed as him and his friends discuss whatever it is that soldiers do when they come to a pub. Probably sports.

"You know if you keep staring at him like that, you'll probably burn a hole through him." Your friend quips beside you, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.

"And what do you suggest I do instead? Just walk up to that Adonis and go 'Hey, handsome, wanna get out of here?' in front of his mates?" You retort with a cocked brow.

"Yeah? You've done worse than that." She tells you. You go quiet again, your gaze returning to the handsome lad.

He sits with his back against the leather back of the booth, shifting his weight around on his ass and sliding down the seat a bit, legs spread apart, one foot kicked up and off the cover of the table, more so in the way, to potentially trip someone.

Your friend is right, of course, you've done worse than go up to a pretty man and ask him to go home with you. In fact, you've done much more nerve-wracking and anxiety-inducing things... But that bloke is easily one of the calmest and most confident ones you've seen in a while, not to mention he's not alone...

Pondering for a moment, you decide to just go for it. You finish the rest of your drink first and get up, walking over to his table, your mind already conjuring the perfect string of words to say in order to get him to come home with you. Hell, you don't normally have any trouble charming lads either.

You stop in front of the table and all four sets of eyes turn to look at him, one of them behind a balaclava, directly across from the man you want to speak to. You had nearly missed that one in the shadows of the pub.

Looking directly into the eyes of your target for the night, you feel the words you had kind of come up with escape you, as well as your last working neuron, and you find yourself feeling a bit flustered under his scrutinizing gaze.

He has the prettiest brown eyes you've ever seen, which stare up at you like a baby cow, eyebrows knit, wide and inviting and warm...

Taking a deep breath, you simply reach your hand forward, palm facing up and you wait, eyes locked on the beautiful man sitting on the booth before you.

His eyes flutter down to your hand and then back up at your face, an eyebrow scaling up in intrigue and confusion, but he lays his left hand atop yours, his warm, calloused palm against your own. No wedding ring. Good enough.

You nod at him and turn away again, pulling him along as you begin to step away from his table. The lad's head immediately shakes, looking around at you, and at his mates, in confusion, but he has no choice but to follow you.

He stands and shoots his friends a confused but amused look, smirking a bit at your mere audacity. You can hear one of them make some comment behind your back as you drag the pretty boy away, but you don't catch it between his thick accent and the music and chatter inside the pub.

-

You made it from the bar to your elevator and to your door in near complete silence, no small talk other than to exchange names and ask about protection, no hesitation.

Getting lowered onto your bed, Kyle's lips were mashed against yours, his arms caging you in, his long, nimble fingers gripping onto the back of your head and nape.

Your legs spread to either side of his hip, your feet plant themselves on the bed, your knees squeezing lightly around his hip over the fabric of his black boxer briefs.

Kyle ruts his clothed bulge against your core, humming under his breath, the sounds he makes dying against your lips.

Your hands slide down from around the back of his neck over his pecs and down his abs, feeling how hard and defined he is. "Mmmm..." You purred as your nails gently slid down his dark skin.

"You like my muscles, hm?" He murmurs after breaking the kiss, diving in to kiss down your jaw and neck, then over your collarbone and onto the swell of your breasts in your bra.

"Maybe." You reply, which causes a rumble of a laugh to escape him, his hands pulling you up and off the mattress so he can undo the back clasp of the bra, before slipping the straps off your shoulders, and throwing the garment aside.

"Maybe, eh?" Kyle teases and leans up close, his large hands cupping the flesh of your breasts, squeezing them them together while his thumbs glide over your pert nipples, rubbing them in circles.

"Mmmm... Maybe." You agree with a chuckle of your own, a hum of appreciation falling through your lips from his touch, at the same time as you grind your clothed cunt against the bulge in his underwear.

The man above you smirks at you, letting you continue to grind yourself against him, while his head dips down to catch one of your nipples between his lips, giving it a slow lick and a greedy suck, his fingers still squeezing the flesh of your tits around them.

After a moment of giving them some attention, his mouth glides down your stomach and over the mound of your pelvis, toward your pussy, his body leaving the bed and kneeling on the floor in front of it, his face lining up between your thighs.

His fingers run over your slit, the man purring at the feeling of the soaked patch you wore into the fabric, before hooking a finger around the side of the gusset, pulling the fabric aside.

Kyle's face leans up close and he wastes no time attaching his plump lips to your wet cunny, his tongue seeking out and finding your clit after letting go of your underwear and spreading your folds with his fingers.

His nose buries itself on your mons and your legs twitch slightly as he gives your clit the attention it deserves, licking and sucking the sensitive bud, pulling it behind his teeth with greedy sucks, the obscenely wet sounds of his sucking filling the room and making you, somehow, whine more than the actual feeling itself.

"K-Kyle-" You whine as your hand finds his head, your legs trembling on either side of him, twitching against either side of his head and squeezing against his ears, like you're desperate to close them.

Kyle's big brown eyes look up at you with a spark of mischief and he grabs both your thighs with his large hands, forcing them open again and holding them against the mattress, leaving you splayed on the bed as his tongue laps furiously at your clitoris.

"I know... I know..." He coos at you as you whine and tremble, your hip bucking a bit as you both seek more of his pleasure and less of it, feeling your climax rearing its head over the horizon as Kyle sends you barreling toward it with just the feeling of his tongue.

Then, his fingers join in, two of them, carefully plunging inside your leaking hole, moving slowly and deeply, curling up to find your G-spot, his lips once more making the most obscene of sucking sounds as he eats you out like a man starved.

You whine and your head falls back, your body thrashing atop your bed covers as you climax, leaking your juices over his long digits and pushing his head away from you, your clitoris overstimulated and feeling raw.

You struggle to catch your breath, feeling hot and covered in sweat, the man kneeling at the foot of your bed looking at you with his pretty brown eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Don't look at me like that!" You complain, feeling flushed, both from embarrassment and from the recent climax.

"Like what, sweet thing?" He asks you, raising his brows and lifting himself off the floor, crawling back atop you, and settling his hip between your parted legs.

"All cocky and smug-like." You retort, hearing him chuckle again.

"Not smug at all, poppet." He tells you in earnest before leaning down and kissing you slowly again. "Just happy I made you feel good. You used to blokes who don't make you cum, hm?" He asks you.

"No, they make me cum." You reply, and, truly, you're saying the truth. But this feels different either way.

"Good, then," Kyle adds and smirks, rolling your hip and legs to the side, his fingers hooking over the edge of the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your thighs. "'cause I plan on making you cum on my cock next."

-

The next morning, you wake up past 11 a.m., bleary-eyed.

You rub your eyes, yawn and stretch along the bed, your arm hitting a warm and hard body beside you.

"Morning to you too, poppet." Kyle's voice murmurs from beside you, causing you to turn to look at him.

You lock eyes with his ass, first and foremost, your eyes widening for just a second.

Kyle's lying on his stomach, his elbows propping him halfway up on the pillow as he scrolls through his feed on some social media.

"Hi..." You murmur and chuckle softly. "You know, most lads would've left by now, hm?" You quip.

The man next to you hums and chuckles before shrugging. "Most lads aren't me." He says simply.

Looking toward you, you can't help but smile a bit at the sight of his warm eyes, shaking your head in amusement at his (over)confidence.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks you.

"Mhm... Like a baby." You nod and stretch your arms again. "What about you?" You return.

"Slept well, yeah..." He retorts. "Don't know why I asked, there's no way you could not, after the way I tired you out?" He teases and winks at you.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. "Oh shut it..." You murmur, arching your back and stretching your spine out.

You're acting nonchalant about it, but the delicious soreness between your thighs and the sticky warmth of the sweat you shed last night speaks volumes. He's 100% right.

"I ordered you food," He says before rolling toward you and reaching over your body to the bedside table, retrieving a water bottle, still cold, meaning he went to get it from the fridge for you.

"Thanks." You murmur once he hands it to you. You open it and curl your head up to sip some water. "I've never had a bloke order me food the morning after." You quip.

"Well, I'm not an animal... I ate you out last night, only fair I feed you in return, hm?" He quips, causing you to scoff again and groan at the stupid comment.

Cheeky fucker, and the worst part is he knows how bad that was, and is still smirking down at you all smugly...

A notification from his phone makes him yelp softly and he rolls away, rising from the bed. "Food's downstairs." He announces.

Your eyes are drawn to the way he looks as he collects his clothes from the floor of your bedroom, tugging them on over his body, his cock, especially, hanging low against his thigh before he fixes it inside his underwear and tucks it all into his jeans.

The memory of how he pounded into you with reckless abandon last night, the tip of his cock hammering past your gummy walls at a neck-breaking pace, hearing you cry out in delight every time it kissed your cervix, comes flowing back.

Kyle notices you eyeing him up just as he's putting on his boots and glances at you with the same smug smirk he's shot you so many times in the last 12 hours together.

Stopping at the door of the bedroom while turning his shirt right side out, ready to put it on, he winks at you. "Don't worry, I'll give you a round two after we eat."

[jnnul]

ric flair drip

a/n: oh my god. it's finished. i've finally written all of her. i genuinely don't know how to explain the relief i feel right now. it feels strange writing this after writing and healing myself through writing this. i hope that anyone in college who's feeling the way y/n or jaehyun did knows that you can and will grow from it. heartbreak is inevitable and so is growth. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 20k

tags: college au!, frat boy!jaehyun x girlboss!y/n, honestly it just a dissertation about modern love and how people nowadays love each other, there's a lot of soul searching in this one, i poured my heart and soul into this please love her the way i do warnings: mentions of sex, underage drinking, and general college shenanigans! also explicit mentions of oral sex, uhhh foreplay and sex

HONESTLY, NOTHING ABOUT JUNG JAEHYUN IS REMOTELY APPEALING TO YOU. you hate the perfect boy act he puts on, you hate his need to impress everyone and everything, and you really fucking hated his dick.

because if it wasn't for his dick, which you were sure is just as perfect as the rest of his stupid self, you wouldn't be awake at inhumane hours, listening to your friend recount their sexcapades.

"oh my god, and then he did this thing with his tongue and i swear, i'm literally never going to be able to have oral again. he's fucking ruined me. i'm genuinely going to just make every guy i fuck put a jaehyun mask on from now onwards just to recreate it," sia yoo, unfortunately one of your best friends, quips dreamily. she yelps when roseanne park, your roommate and singular other voice of reason, throws a pillow at her.

"you sound like a fucking psycho. as in needs to be checked to a mental facility psycho. as in if i hadn't heard worse when you got with johnny suh, i'd be calling the cops right now psycho," roseanne says and easily ducks when sia winds up to throw the pillow back at her. fatima khan, sia's roommate and mother friend extraordinaire, pouts sympathetically with sia as the two of them turn to you as if you would fall on their side.

"sia, baby, honey, love and light of my life - i'm really sorry but i'm with rosie on this one," you say and sia puts on the most theatrical frown you she possibly could before she cocks her head curiously.

"rosie's got a reason for judging jaehyun since she doesn't even like men all that much. what's your excuse, y/n? you like men, judging by the way you were getting railed to next week by that freshie park seonghwa. you've never gotten dicked down by jaehyun."

you're half-tempted so tell sia that it's not fucking weird that you got with seonghwa, considering the fact that you're only a sophomore yourself but you're even more tempted to remind her that even though you were no stranger to a good time, you never recount your stories.

in fact, the only reason why the other three (well, you suppose rosie would know regardless given that you literally live with her) know about your sex life is because you choose to tell them whenever you felt like it. and usually, it was more than three days after the encounter.

you loved your friends, you really did - and sia was notorious for getting into one night stand rehash sessions at ungodly hours, so this was nothing new - but for some reason, every time jaehyun's name came up in the conversation, your skin would prickle with irritation.

maybe it was the fact that every single person around you seemed to be infatuated with him. or the fact that he was just so effortlessly good at capturing the attention of everyone in the room, no matter where he was.

or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you knew that if you looked too closely into the deep end, you'd fall right in with no life jacket. and jaehyun was an endless ocean.

+++

maybe you had given jaehyun too much credit, you lament. maybe jung jaehyun's as deep as a fucking kiddie pool. you know you're wrong because you were in the same english literature class and the man had been published because the professor liked his prose so much, she had submitted it to a literary journal.

and they had accepted it.

but as you stare at him across the lecture hall, burning holes into the poor guy's skull, you sure think he's stupid. because there was no way in fresh hell that jung jaehyun was in an introduction to east asia class. as a south korean.

people begin settling into their seats as you mull over the possibility that jaehyun had fucked so much, his brain had fallen out through his dick. from the stories of his more than above average size, it was definitely not out of the realm of possibility.

just as you're send a very judgmental text to fatima, who was supposed to be taking the class with you but had had to switch last minute when one of her major required classes opened up, jaehyun gets out of his seat to stand at the front of the room, next to the professor.

you realize belatedly that the people jaehyun had been so animatedly speaking to were none other than bambam and ten - two people who most definitely were in this class. and of course, they had chosen this class over all the others because oh my god, jung jaehyun is the uta for this class.

in hindsight, it makes sense, given that jaehyun is a east asian studies minor and a stellar fucking student. but it doesn't make the text you were about to send fatima any less humiliating as you realize your attempts to undermine his character were desperately failing. you try to backtrack on your phone, deleting the winding paragraph you were about to send her when your thumb slips, accidentally sending a half written message.

you: jaehyun is fucking

you're sure the statement will be true within the next couple hours (the jung bed at the nct frat never seemed to stay empty for too long - and that was just from orientation week last week) but it felt almost blasphemous that you would send a text so crude to your friend when you insisted that you couldn't stand his guts.

or what lay between them, really.

three gray dots appear on your screen as you half-heartedly listen to your professor drone on about how he went to china, became a changed man, and now taught about the wonders of east asia and its exoticism. his name was paul but the class could refer to him by his 'enlightened name' - lao ma. even jaehyun rolls his eyes behind the professor's back as all of the asian kids in the classroom begin to eye each other warily.

if this class wasn't so easy, you're sure the population would've shrunk to a quarter its size based on the weirdness of the professor on its own. or maybe not, if it meant that people got to stare at jaehyun's gorgeous face for an hour and a half every monday morning.

mommy tima 🤍: honey, i think whatever sia's got going is contagious. mommy tima 🤍: aren't you the one who hates him? mommy tima 🤍: he really lives in your mind rent free, huh.

you scoff under your breath as you type furiously, vaguely registering that you definitely need to check the syllabus for this class later because you have not been listening to a word the professor has said this whole time.

you: first sia's got cooties or a raging std that's what she's got going you: second he's my fucking uta you: as in i am going to be forced to see his face for an entire semester mommy tima 🤍: drop the class then, babe. you: can't this is too good for my gpa & the prof's a freak you: it's a gpa cushion and a circus in one go

you tuck your phone away when you see that jaehyun is coming up the aisle on your side with a packet while the professor is on the other aisle on the other side with the same packet to hand out. jaehyun probably wouldn't care that you had your phone out during lecture (syllabus week was just an excuse for college kids to get drunk during school days anyway) but it was the principle of the thing.

"here you go - oh, it's stuck together," jaehyun says as he stops at where you're sitting. his tongue slips out as he thumbs at the packet to give you one instead of three and suddenly, your treacherous brain takes you back to sia's rambling the night before.

and then he did this thing with his tongue...

you're shaken back to reality when you realize that you're staring at a blank wall, with a pink packet in front of you, and jaehyun has already reached the back of the classroom.

fuck. shit. bitch.

jaehyun had seen you stare at his stupidly handsome face and then some. he was your ta. oh my god, what if he docked points on some test because he thought you were the creepy stalker type.

damn you, sia yoo, you curse in your head.

+++

"damn you, sia yoo!" you yell over the blaring music that's so loud, you can feel the vibrations in your skull. there absolutely no reason you should be caught dead in a frat on the friday of syllabus week but sia had made it her mission to make sure you had a going out rate of at least 80% this school year, given that you were prone to trying to skip out on weekends out last year.

not that you didn't like going out - you actually really liked going out with your friends. you just took a little more inertia to get to the energy levels of actually going on.

sia just nods at you lazily as she bounces to the beat of another shitty remix of 'what you came for' by calvin harris and rihanna. you never understood why frats always found the worst remixes of classic party bangers but anything flew after you had enough alcohol in your system so the music would recede to the depths of your mind in a couple cups of whatever the fuck this drink was.

especially since you were a full sunshine drunk; whenever you were drunk, you became the life of the party and would always be found in the center of the room, regardless of the music. sia was a flirty drunk and you really couldn't remember the last time sia actually spent the entire weekend in her own bed. props to her stamina, honestly.

rosie was a mix of you and sia in that she would become so much more bubbly but the second she found someone she wanted to spend the night with, she went after them with no hesitation.

fatima usually played the role of sober mommy when you all went out. although she was never one to miss out on a good time, when she did get drunk, she much preferred it to be within the confines of the four walls that she shared with her roommate and the people she trusted the most - you, rosie, and sia.

which is why when rosie abandons you for her on again, off again fuck buddy (miyeon cho) and her fuck buddy (yugyeom kim), you're not surprised at all.

"that's going to be an interesting story in the morning," you say, nodding to where rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom are all heading upstairs together. fatima nudges you to look at sia, where she's pressed up against none other than johnny suh (or the love of her life, prior to jaehyun, apparently).

"that's going to be an interesting story in the afternoon," fatima counters. you turn to her with furrowed eyebrows, as if to question the timing. "i don't think i've ever heard of a girl leaving johnny's bed before 3 o'clock the next afternoon."

your jaw hangs in shock as you watch your friend wrap her arms around the tall man's neck, whispering something into his ear when he bends down to kiss her collarbone.

"are all of the nct boys secretly porn stars or something? how can they all be that good in bed?" you gape, waving at sia when she turns around to wink at you and fatima as her and johnny are bustling out of the door, undoubtedly to the nct frat house.

"they test us as part of rushing," says a low, velvety voice behind you. a hot rush of shame runs up your spine for two reasons: a) you were able to recognize jung jaehyun just from his voice and b) he heard you gossiping about his frat brothers' sexual prowess.

you exchange a look with fatima before whipping around to meet jaehyun eye to eye. he's wearing a plain black t-shirt and lightwash distressed jeans but he might as well be wearing designer trash bags for all you care. what you do care about, unfortunately, is the almost slutty way his v-neck dips to show off the beginnings of the planes of his chest.

you feel no better than a victorian man and it takes fatima a poorly concealed cough to break you out of your thoughts. fuck, you'd done it again. you really needed to stop getting caught up in jung jaehyun's pretty face. and body. and that stupid smile.

"haha. very funny. sounds like something straight out of a cheesy porno sponsored by viagra or something," you say, rolling your eyes. smooth. very smooth. normally, you like to think that you're proficient in the witty banter department but something about this boy made you almost feel dumb about your comebacks.

jaehyun cocks an eyebrow, and you're distinctly made aware that even with platform sneakers on, jaehyun is a good head taller than you when you have to look upwards to notice the motion. "you seem to be well versed, y/n. you make it a habit to stay up to date?"

you flush at the thinly veiled euphemism at your x-rated movie watching habits before clearing your throat. "i'm more of a fan of practical study, really. i am a scientist, after all."

you're aware that fatima has slipped away from you to talk to another friend, park jeonghwa, and also the fact that you are slowly beginning your descent into drunkenness but you can't seem to bring yourself to find the caution in it all. it's just jaehyun, after all.

jaehyun hums, bringing the solo cup in his hand to his lips to take a swig. "you're a biomedical engineering major, aren't you?"

you balk at that. "wait, wait. you know my name and my major?"

jaehyun nods slowly, seemingly stumbling for a moment before he gains his self-confidence once more. "you don't know mine?"

"you're literally my ta. i know you're an east asian studies minor and your name because you told the class," you say, recovering quickly. it was a really good thing you were a quick thinker because you were lying through your teeth.

you knew jaehyun's name, minor, and even major (computer science) because of his notorious reputation, not because he was your ta. but the last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of asserting his popularity on campus.

"anyway. what was that you were saying about 'practical study'?" jaehyun's eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of the cramped basement you were in and you had a feeling that if you were any more inebriated, you'd be diving headfirst into jung jaehyun's bed as long as he looked at you like that.

but fortunately (unfortunately?) you're sober enough to make mostly intelligent decisions - which just means that you're not going to jump headfirst. maybe feet first but not headfirst.

"wouldn't you like to know," you sing-song, leaning into jaehyun's body enough to smell the mix of woody pine, fresh water, and vodka that seems to emanate from him. jaehyun watches you as you lean over him to grab another solo cup from the assortment that some lower ranked frat brother had been forced into bartending.

you down the entire drink in two swigs, patting away the stray stream of alcohol that had dripped down onto your chest. you don't notice the way jaehyun's eyes follow your hand down its descent to your chest. but you finally feel like your element, and in a moment of sheer idiocy and liquid courage, you enter the growing throng of bodies behind you, beckoning jaehyun to follow you.

you're not 100% sure what you want from him, honestly. you want to have a good time, and you're sure you'll have one with or without him. but something about the way jaehyun follows you like a puppy into the mess of people makes you feel like a zap of electricity has hit your body.

and if you're being completely honest with yourself (as you usually only are with ethanol in your system), you really didn't hate jaehyun. you had no qualms with him as a person, even if you hated the consequences that came with a night with him.

it's when you're in the middle of the crowd, with jaehyun looking at you with those hooded eyes and hands tucked into his pockets when you realize what you want from jaehyun jung.

you want him to desire you the way that his mere presence makes people desire him.

so you do what you do best and just let go. it's ric flair drip by metro boomin that's playing - a song that's definitely not the one to get down to. but the bass fills you up in a way that never hits the same outside of a sweaty frat basement so you can't even bring yourself to care.

"i'm tryna fuck you and your bestie," you sing along with the near hundred people surrounding you. jaehyun is still looking at you with an eyebrow sitting higher and an appraising expression; something that somehow manages to get under your skin.

in a moment of passion, you manage to hook your fingers into one of jaehyun's belt loops, pulling him closer to you. you're aware that you've painted yourself to be jaehyun's next conquest if the way that the girls next to you look upset means anything, but you couldn't care less.

especially when you're this close to the bane of your existence. the song switches to something a little more what you need (under the influence by chris brown) and you look up at jaehyun through your lashes and in that moment, jaehyun knows what you're offering him through your gaze.

a challenge.

+++

jaehyun never really meant to take on the role of nct's resident whore. in fact, jaehyun had been planning on doing the exact opposite when he came to college.

although it was unbelievable now, jaehyun jung had originally just been a very strange, nerdy, and sweet boy. he never got up to much trouble, kept to himself most of the time, and was known for...nothing, really. he was sweet and bubbly but he wasn't exactly running with the popular crowd.

in fact, jaehyun was kinda forgotten all throughout his schooling. it was easy to forget about jaehyun, as though he were some visage in a dream that everyone shared.

it hurt.

so when jaehyun finally hit his growth spurt in senior year, started going to the gym, and his voice no longer cracked every other sentence, he felt like a whole new person. like he was finally the main character in his own life.

it felt so fucking good to look at the same girls who had smiled at him pitifully and have them melting under a single wink. the summer between high school and college had been wild, with more stories than jaehyun could really even care to keep track of.

but when college began, jaehyun was fully intending to return to flying under the radar with his new upgrade in personality, appearance, and wardrobe. with a face like his, however, doing so was about as easy as trying to pass professor yoon's intro to bio class - nearly impossible.

slowly but surely, jaehyun morphed back into the personality he had adopted that summer and surprisingly, it wasn't as foreign as he thought. he was still a good student and wasn't a stranger to having to skip out on hanging out with his friends to study.

but having a new girl in his bed every other day? that was definitely new. a new revelation, but a welcome one nonetheless.

and in that, jaehyun was used to people using all sorts of tactics to get with him. playing hard to get, with coy smiles and flirtatious winks. or the bold ones, who told him straight up that they wanted to spend the night with him. even the downright horrifying ones who tried to pretend like they were blackout drunk in hopes that that would 'attract' him. spoiler alert? it didn't.

jaehyun originally thought you were of the 'hard to get' caliber. the type of girl to say that she wasn't like other girls and that's why he should get with her instead. so initially, when he approached you at the party after seeing you in his class, he was mentally preparing himself for the whole pick me speech.

but it was something about the way you looked at him.

it was like two halves of your mind were battling against each other. on one hand, you looked like you wanted to fax jaehyun straight into the fiery pits of hell with high speed shipping. on the other, it also seemed like you wanted nothing more than to ride him until the sun came up. mixed with a little bit of curiosity, confusion, and downright anger with yourself for all the emotions, you looked like the perfect cocktail of firebrand that jaehyun couldn't help but become intrigued by.

so when you were laughingly talking to your best friend (jaehyun's frat brother kun was half in love with fatima, which meant that jaehyun was more than well acquainted with her) about him and frat brothers, he took it to be the opportunity he needed.

and when you're looking at him like this, daring him to make a move, almost as if to make your mind fall one way or another about drawing a conclusion on him, what is jaehyun to do but to make good on the challenge you've offered?

he watches you for a moment more, trying to commit the memory of what you look like when you're this carefree and happy, before taking the micro-step it takes to get so close he can smell the citrus and apple cider that you seem to always smell like.

"i promise you i can fuck you better than johnny," jaehyun says, a corner of his lips tilted up as your eyes flutter the closer he draws.

"johnny's your 'bestie'?" you say, and jaehyun can tell that the last threads of your resolve are starting to snap by the way that your hand is now pressed against his chest.

"that's what you're curious about right now? the dynamics of the nct frat brothers?" jaehyun asks but he knows that this back and forth is exactly you need right now; the time to decide if you can take the plunge. or if jaehyun's worth your time tonight.

"as i mentioned, i'm a scientist," you say, and even as your voice stays stable, your fingers seem to leave burning trails against jaehyun's skin as they dip and feed into crevices of jaehyun's body that he didn't even know existed.

"hmm," jaehyun manages to eke out when your fingers lace into his hair. he's not sure how you manage to find every single sensitive spot he has but he's fairly impressed by the way you catch his breath hitching as you work your other hand up as well.

"hmm? cat got your tongue, jaehyun?" you say, making sure that jaehyun looks straight into your eyes as you lean impossibly closer. "you know that sia's with johnny right now, right? girls talk - especially with your best friends. which means that if you can't make good on your promise, i will find out."

jaehyun feels like he's sweating like a pig but thankfully, you don't notice, too busy making him sweat. he clears his throat once, and then twice to make sure that his voice doesn't give out.

"that right?" he says, and you roll your eyes, letting go of him and stepping back. you seem to appraise him for a moment (and jaehyun is unnaturally nervous about what you will decide) before grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. you only pause to flag down fatima, who takes one look at your intertwined hands, and waves the two of you away.

jaehyun blushes like a schoolgirl at the way fatima flashes him a catty smile.

"i swear to god, jaehyun, if you're all talk and no game - or if you're gonna sit still and look pretty the whole time - i will literally blue ball you. i don't do pillow princes," you throw over your shoulder as the two of you make your way to the nct frat. jaehyun knows for a fact that the nct frat will not be a quiet place tonight by the number of dresses and pants he sees in the foyer and leading the way up the stairs.

he says nothing, even as you're quite nearly storming up the stairs with a certain level of urgency, almost as though if you were to slow down and think about just exactly what you're doing, you'd turn around and leave right now.

jaehyun definitely can't let that happen.

so the second that he gets you into his bedroom (he had to rock, paper, scissors with doyoung to get the room tonight), he shuts the door and locks it behind him. he turns around to see you looking between the two beds, as if trying to guess which one was jaehyun's.

he mentally pats himself on the back when he sees the fresh sheets on the bed. reaching where you stand in less than a stride, jaehyun turns you so that you're facing his bed, and you squirm to turn to meet his eyes even as his hands are on your waist.

"what is with your hands?" you ask harshly and jaehyun blinks as he looks down.

"what do you mean? they're on your waist," jaehyun says softly, and once again, he's hit with a wave of citrus and apple cider. you simper at him, grabbing his wrist and moving it incriminatingly downwards.

"what am i? a virgin? put them somewhere useful." you whisper the last part and it's as though jaehyun has just woken up.

"you know," jaehyun begins, sliding his other hand downwards to sit comfortably on the curve of your ass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were trying to rile me up. i wonder..."

he doesn't finish his thought, instead pulling you close so that your hips are pressed against his. he can hear the gasp that you're desperately trying to conceal, coughing uselessly to the side. a devilish smirk grows on jaehyun's lips and for the first time in a long time, you're sure you're going to be up all night.

+++

you were, in fact, trying to rile him up. you had heard all the rumors about jaehyun and johnny, about how one night with them was like one night in heaven. hell, you'd had first hand accounts from sia yoo about exactly what it's like to be in bed with either of them - multiple times.

so when jaehyun had fronted with such a cautious attitude when he realized what you wanted, you were almost offended. if you wanted to take control and fuck a man's brains out, you could do that with anyone. why would you fight against your own mind this much to get with him?

but seonghwa park. changkyun im. even kun qian, before you discovered he was head over heels for fatima. jung jaehyun.

these were all people who put you in your place. the way you wanted to be. it just seemed as though jaehyun might've needed a little more persuasion to get there.

so yes, you were riling him up. was that such a crime?

by the way jaehyun's looking at you right now, his breath hot and heavy on your neck and his eyes dark with a feeling that you can't describe but resonates with you on a deeper, more primal level.

"you know, after you got with kun, he wouldn't shut up about it for a week," jaehyun says, pressing kisses down your neck, pausing when he reaches your breastbone. he eyes your corset top with a discerning eye before reaching behind you to pull the lace strings that were precariously holding your top for a week.

"yeah?" you ask, threading your fingers through jaehyun's thick hair as he makes quick work of your top, leaving it pooled on the floor as his lips find your chest as though he couldn't be physically parted from it.

"yeah. even after he met fatima, he said that you were the best he's ever had - that's a big reputation to live up to when you're in nct," jaehyun says, his voice breathy and deep as he walks you backwards so that the back of your knees hit the frame of his bed.

"hmm. what can i say? i know what i want and what i want is usually lots of fun," you say, letting jaehyun unzip your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off when jaehyun moves too slowly.

"i know. god, after knowing that you and kun were going at it, i swear everyone was jerking off in their room for an hour. even winwin wanted to go for you today. you're an unpredictable woman; no one knows where and when you're going to show up to one of the parties so everyone has to take their chances when they get them," jaehyun says, tugging his shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind him carelessly.

you nearly melt when you see jaehyun's uncovered top, eyeing each and every hard ridge of his body, reaching out to touch him. his chest is almost soothingly warm as your fingers memorize each and every aspect of the planes of his chest, almost worried that they might disappear if you let go.

jaehyun looks at you amusingly as he lets your fingers dance across his body, focusing on tugging your panties off to discard them where he's sure he's going to have to search for them later on.

you pout when you see the difference in clothing but jaehyun just gently pushes you backwards so that your back is against his bed, leaving your pussy exposed in away that makes you feel absolutely mortified. you move to gain some level of privacy back but jaehyun is too fast, gripping onto your thighs incriminatingly as he raises an eyebrow.

"don't think that i'm soft just because i'm being nice to you now, pretty girl. i know you don't like to listen but don't hide from me. i will not let you have any fun if you try to hide from me," jaehyun says, his voice dropping a full octave. you suppress the shiver that runs through your body (and that simultaneously delights jaehyun) as you nod softly.

he seems satisfied by the way your body melts and rewards you for your submission by licking a wet strip up your pussy, one hand snaking up to touch your nipple while the other one keeps your thighs open.

jaehyun is slow at first, exploring each and every hidden crevice of your body but as he feels you get wetter and wetter, he can't seem to stay soft for too long. he continues to press his lips against yours but the moment you try to grind your hips against his lips, he pulls away, his tongue darting out to taste your essence on him.

you almost whine at the loss of his hot mouth on your pussy, and you're embarrassed to realize that in front of jaehyun jung, you are no better than your best friend in falling in love with the way he moves.

"you're not going to cum from my tongue, baby," jaehyun says, practically ripping the belt out from where it was caging his jeans. "especially when i know that your pussy is magic."

"you say that, jaehyun, but you're being so fucking soft. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're in love with me," you snort, trying to catch your breath. jaehyun freezes from where his boxers are hanging so low on his hips, you can see the muscles in his pelvis tense angrily as he looks at you dangerously.

"my fucking bad for making sure you're wet enough to take me," jaehyun whispers, pulling close to you. his eyes turn even darker than usual and a small spark of excitement ignites in your chest when you realize that you've finally reached it - jaehyun's breaking point.

"sounds like you're scared, jaehyun. you know what? you know why kun was so good? because he wasn't scared. he wasn't scared to fuck me like he was trying to break the bed," you retort, and saying kun's name is when jaehyun finally snaps. he tears his boxers off as he pushes you so that you're further up on his bed.

"y/n, i'm not fucking joking around. if you want me to stop, say it now. just say the word, and i'll pretend like this never happened. because i swear to every god in existence, if you let me, i'll ruin every other man for you," jaehyun says and his knuckles turn white from how hard his clenching his fingers to keep himself from pouncing. the thought is almost cute if you weren't desperate to be fucked into next week.

"if i wanted you to stop, i wouldn't have said kun's name, would i?"

that's all it takes. no sooner do the words leave your mouth, jaehyun's on top of you, every inch of his body fighting to claim yours. he's not sure what it is about being with a bratty girl but every time a girl tries to challenge him, jaehyun can feel his excitement grow as his mind runs wild with ways to prove you wrong.

and with a girl as beautiful and sexy as you? he was going to have the time of his life.

time of his life he does.

+++

when jaehyun wakes up, he's almost happy. almost because he has bruises on his hips from how hard he had pounded into you, a litter of hickeys across his chest, and freshly washed hair from when you had enticed him into taking a shower with you.

inevitably, it led to another hour in the shower that jaehyun had spent having his soul sucked out from his dick, eating you out under the shower, and seeing you cum twice just from his tongue.

if only he had woken up with you still in his bed, jaehyun would've actually been happy.

realistically, jaehyun had no clue what he was expecting. after taking a shower, it had taken you a total of five minutes to fall asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but jaehyun's oversized t-shirt and your panties.

there was no pillowtalk, no heart to hearts, nothing. no discussions of having whatever happened last night happening again. no trying to get to know each other better.

not that you had ever been obligated to do so. if anything, jaehyun was far more obligated to do so, after practically declaring that he had wanted to get with you since last semester - which he had been completely serious about.

but with his reputation, regardless of what he had said last night, jaehyun's almost 100% sure that you would've disappeared by the morning.

he's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the bright pink post-it note on his neatly folded shirt on his desk in the corner of the room.

9.5/10. if you see sia, tell her she was right about your tongue. see you in intro to east asia on monday.

jaehyun's half disappointed and half happy. disappointed because you'd never left your number or anything and happy because at least he knew that you weren't going to completely avoid him whenever you ran into each other next.

he shakes his head as he folds the post-it note and throws it in the trash can next to his desk.

jaehyun jung may not have started college with the intention of becoming the resident fuckboy but he still had a reputation to maintain. he had fucked countless women over his time at sm university and he had no intention of falling for any of them.

he was not about to get soft-hearted or soft-dicked by a girl he was with once.

even if she was really good in bed. like really really good. like good enough to make him think about the other boys she's been with and if they'd made you feel as good as he did.

fuck. her. which jaehyun had already done. which meant that he needed to move onto the next step of the day before his head exploded with all of the implications flying around in his mind about their relation to each other (nonexistent) and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking of you (you weren't).

he pads out of his room, passing doyoung on the way out, who claps him on the back and says, "you finally got with y/n?" jaehyun doesn't know how doyoung knows but it strikes him that neither of you are very subtle people and you had caused quite the scene leaving with him last night.

similar reactions are offered to him by everyone he passes. he's not really sure how many of the boys you've been with but jaehyun can feel his street cred go up by at least a decameter with the way some of these pledges are looking at him.

in fact, everyone is looking at him with a new look of respect in their eyes until he reaches the kitchen, where yoo sia and johnny are sitting, practically eye-fucking.

jaehyun was very used to seeing johnny's friends in the kitchen the next day, neither of them ready to really say goodbye each other yet but for some reason, knowing that sia was your best friend and seeing her with johnny sets jaehyun's stomach into a series of knots that he was sure he was going to have to unravel when he had his head on straight.

"she already left?" sia says, finally breaking her stare from johnny's. jaehyun shrugs, digging around the fridge to see if they had any coffee. they didn't (none that wasn't expired anyway) so he has to settle for a caprisun.

"she had somewhere to be," jaehyun says. he wants to ask sia if it's normal for you to leave that early. it can't be if sia seems surprised that you'd left before the clock struck ten. what did that mean? what does that say about jaehyun? oh god. what if you hated it. what if you hated it so much that you didn't want to spend a second longer with jaehyun.

he cringes as he locks eyes with another shiny eyed pledge (jaehyun thinks his name is jungwoo) and tries to shake his head to clear any and all thoughts of you. he was pussydrunk. that was the only explanation. he just needed to dick down someone else and then he would get over whatever little infatuation thing he had going on.

"really? hmm..." sia says finally. jaehyun turns to see her looking right at him and suddenly, he's transported back to the previous weekend, when sia had been wrapped up in his sheets.

+++

"why did you start fucking around like this?" sia had asked, her chest still heaving from their previous illicit activities as she wraps herself tighter in jaehyun's sheets. jaehyun pauses for a moment as he catches his breath, pulling on his boxers as he thinks. he throws the shirt that sia's grabbing at, still not sure how to piece together his thoughts.

or why he wants to tell sia the truth. maybe it's because no one's ever asked about it before, but jaehyun feels strangely vulnerable as sia watches as he clambers back into his bed, her expression pensive and uncharacteristically wise.

"i don't know," jaehyun says honestly, laying over the covers as he feels his face grow hotter under sia's unrelenting stare. "i think it's because i wanted to know what it felt like. to know what it felt like to be wanted for a night instead of just being in the sidelines as the guy with the potential. just the guy that people brought along as the friend of the hot guys that kept him around."

sia doesn't say anything, instead turning so that she was lying on her back. jaehyun turns to look at her, to see if he could decipher some level of understanding from her silence. really, he knows that he should feel embarrassed about confessing his insecurities to a girl that he's hooked up with two or three times but he can't bring himself to for some reason.

maybe it's because he knows that she wouldn't say anything about it to anyone. or because he knows that she's head over heels for johnny, whether she'd admit it or not. or maybe it's just because for the first time, someone had asked something about jaehyun just to get to know him as a person, rather than trying to get him in their bed.

not that he really minded that - it just made him feel like it was all a lot more transactional than he was used to. he had been a romantic once upon a time. when you grew up with the nickname of 'valentine boy', it would have been stranger if he didn't have some sense of romance.

but jaehyun's penchant for romance disappeared almost just as soon as he realized that no one else was yearning for a pure type of love like he was.

and yet, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. turns out that jaehyun's a very adaptable man. if he wouldn't find love in this decade, then perhaps it would be lust that he would have to settle for.

"then again," he begins, gaze darting over to where sia had slipped on his t-shirt as she tiredly begins to settle down in his bed once more. "isn't that what everyone is doing nowadays? looking for a warm body for the night, instead of a genuine connection?"

sia snorts at that, turning so that she was facing jaehyun now. "don't tell me that you're one of the boomer types. the ones who always go around peacocking about how they were born in the wrong generation and that they're one of the 'good guys'. i might actually leave right now if you are."

"no, no i'm not. well. maybe a little bit. but i don't know why that's so bad to be honest," jaehyun acquiesces finally. sia rolls her eyes, but even she goes quiet for a moment. once again, jaehyun's reminded that this is sia yoo - a girl who routinely wakes up in someone else's sheets every saturday (although it was johnny's more often than not) and as sexist as it was, someone who carried a reputation for it. even jaehyun was surprised to find that she was such a deep conversationalist.

of course, he mentally berates himself soon after but he can't help the thought. for him, sia was just the girl he would get with a couple times. a good time. the fact that that's the only role she fulfilled in his mind made him feel disgusting inside out as he waits for her response, vowing that he would work to change his mindset. or maybe just change personalities altogether. ick.

"you know one of my best friends? y/n? the one who got with kun before he decided to go clean for fatima?" sia says with a careful tone. jaehyun nods, not trusting that he wouldn't say something dumb after his sudden realization of his flawed thinking.

"this is something she always says but it's honestly pretty simple: love is however you want to define it. humans spend so much trying to find labels and definitions for things that just might not have or need them. for such an advanced species, we spend so much time concerned about how to put a feeling into a box or how to classify a thought instead of rejoicing in the fact that we had such a beautiful feeling in the first place."

"for people in this generation, the old school love is hard to find because they've got so many other types of love that weren't allowed back when old school love was big. it's a different type of freedom to love someone on the weekends but never to fall in love with them. maybe we're just romanticizing hookup culture but who's to say that we can't? maybe we're all more romantic than we want to admit. maybe when we fall into the sheets with someone we barely know, we're looking for a fragment of love to satiate our heart in ways we didn't know it needed."

jaehyun doesn't know what to say to that so he just pulls her closer to him and she lets him, throwing her leg over his as they fall asleep, closer to each other than they had ever been.

+++

you're not sure what had compelled you to leave so quickly that morning. you usually like to get the boys who sleep with to at least cook you breakfast before you left (for compensation of being terrible in bed, if the situation so called for it) but for some reason, every instinct in your body had pulled you to leave.

you had waken up at nearly 5 in the morning, a mere two and a half hours after the two of you had fallen asleep, gathered your clothes, and were about to leave when you turn to look at jaehyun, still snoring away peacefully, his arm crossing his body to rest on the empty space next to him that you had occupied previously.

you had a feeling that you're going to lament leaving this early after psychoanalyzing why you were leaving so early later in the day but for now, if your gut was telling you to leave, you were going to heed the precautions.

but even as you're about to leave, you find yourself turning to jaehyun's desk, sparse but somehow still a little messy as you rummage for a post-it note and a pen to write with. you grin to yourself when you find yourself successful (and endearing somehow that jaehyun has bright pink post-it notes).

you pass a brother on the way out (undoubtedly a freshman who had received the short stick of the duties tonight) but you wave him off when he offers to walk you home. dangerous? most definitely. but you really needed the time and space to yourself and the short, almost ten minute walk back to your apartment would offer some enlightenment.

spoiler alert: it didn't. no matter how hard you wracked your brain to come up with some version of a logical explanation, you realized that there was just simply no way to do so.

and something about that frustrated you. you knew it wasn't a big deal. jaehyun was just a hook-up. a one night stand. and yet...something wasn't fitting right in your mind. so you start to think in the only way you know how, collecting all of the pieces of information you did have.

a) you just had sex - mind-blowing sex with jaehyun. he was everything you expected and more when it came to a sexual partner. b) you didn't develop feelings for him. sex comes fifth on the list of things you subconsciously (or now consciously, since you've spoken it into existence) have when looking for a potential boyfriend. first comes personality, then intelligence, then ambition, then looks, and then sex. you didn't even have a conversation long enough to figure out if jaehyun had more than three brain cells to piece together. c) jaehyun jung had confessed that he had wanted to get with you since last semester. did he mean with you-r body or with you?

you shake your head as if to physically shake the irrational thoughts in your mind out and press your id against the scanner at the entrance of your apartment building, rubbing your fingers against your temples as you get into the elevator to reach your apartment.

unlocking the door to your (empty) apartment, you decide to shelf the thoughts for some time when your head wasn't pounding and collapse on your bed, thanking the lords you'd had the sense to take a shower at jaehyun's.

and the last thing you remember is the smell of jaehyun's shampoo in your hair as you drift into blissful, dreamless sleep.

+++

you're not surprised to feel a weight on your bed when you wake up the next morning. you blearily open your eyes to make out sia's general figure, rosie and fatima undoubtedly chatting quietly in the kitchen.

you vaguely piece together something about fatima having kun over but him sleeping on the couch and you try to push down the guilt that creeps up into your brain as you realize that you had left fatima alone at the party. a party where all of you knew a lot of people (and the outcome was just as everyone had thought it would be) but the principle of the matter stung nonetheless.

you push aside the thought - along with the idea that you should probably apologize to fatima when the cottony feeling in your mouth started to subside - in favor of looking at sia, who is strangely quiet as she watches you gather yourself. for her boisterous personality, sia yoo could see through anyone to the extent of theorized telepathy so you don't even bother trying to hide anything from her.

although, it really is hard to take her seriously when she's got hickey's littered across her neck. well. you suppose you don't look much better at the moment.

"you left before 10 o'clock," sia says simply. you don't pretend to not understand what she means as you nod, pushing yourself up on your bed as fatima and rosie also enter, rosie handing you a glass of water.

"i know," you say softly. "but i want to hear about everyone else's nights right now. i just don't know that i'm in the right headspace to think about why i left so early - i'm not even sure i know why i left so early."

sia says nothing for a moment, watching your face, almost as if she were trying to read your very essence. but she relents, reaching out to hold your hand briefly before completely switching up, speaking animatedly about her very adventurous night, leaving you to simmer in your thoughts.

had sia always been this smart? probably. who's to say that she wasn't, after all?

turns out that sia and johnny were actually going to go on a date on wednesday, after realizing that their chemistry extended further out of the bedroom than either of them had expected. sia was through the roof, obviously, given that she had been thirsting over johnny (although more in a sexual sense than anything else) for so long.

rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom also worked a lot better than any of them had thought so you were sure that you were going to lose your roommate to the other '97 liners more often for the foreseeable future.

fatima was the only one who had a pg night, with kun coming over to her apartment and just chilling together the whole night, eventually having him sleep over since he was too tired to walk back to the apartment that he lived out (it was on the other side of campus, given that he moved out of the nct house pretty late into the semester last year).

"speaking of kun, when are you guys gonna make it official? i mean after this year, you guys are going to only have one year together before you guys graduate," you say, bunching your comforter before letting go. it felt weird saying that. especially in regards to your friends. theoretically, you had all the time in the world together.

but all the time in the world wasn't enough when it came to these girls.

fatima sighs before getting up, wringing her hands together as she thinks. "i don't know. i mean kun's graduating a year early so i really only have this year left. i - i know how much he likes me. i know that he wants to do this right way. go the whole nine yards."

"but...?" rosie says, elongating the syllables as you and sia look at her patiently. fatima shakes her head, getting up to walk around the room, six paces enough to take her from one side of your room to the other.

"i just don't know. kun's great and honestly, i really think that's the one. or at least one of the ones for me. but i just don't know if my parents would be okay with it. i mean my parents are great! they give me so much freedom and honestly, i'm really thankful that my parents allowed me to find religious and spiritual freedom on my own, without ever trying to shove it down my throat."

"but at the same time...how can i betray their trust in me by dating someone who is so far from my religion? like. kun is a great guy but he's not muslim. and sure, i don't follow a lot of the stricter things in islam but i - i have god in my heart. and i don't know that god would want me to start a family that doesn't follow islam. especially since i can see that in my future with kun and kun - i don't know that i could ask kun to convert to another religion for me."

the room is silent for a little bit after fatima finishes, with her collapsing in your bed next to you. rosie and sia exchange a look with each other, and then you, as they both decide to leave the room, leaving you to console fatima.

you were always the most philosophical one out of the bunch anyway.

"look, fatima, i can't pretend to know what it's like to have that kind of mental burden and i really can't understand what it's like to think about the future and be concerned about the impact on the world you might create. i read about something the other day though - did you know that kun means 'manifesting' or 'believing' in arabic?" fatima looks at you with disbelief written all over her face, shaking her head.

"how did you know that?" she asks and you just shrug, nodding at the 'islam for dummies' book you had bought in hopes of understanding a little bit more about one of your closest friend's religion.

"that's not the point. but fatima, you are the single kindest, most beautiful person i know. and i have faith that you will choose what's right for you, not what's right for the people around you because you know better than everyone that the only person who can judge you is god. and no one - no one - on this earth has the right to take that peace away from you."

fatima is silent before wrapping you in her arms, the soft material of her hoodie comforting you and lulling you back into a sleep that's dreamless and calm.

+++

jaehyun doesn't know what to expect when he walks into intro to east asia on monday. should he say hi? wave? start a conversation? should he acknowledge that he spent the better part of his weekend wondering if he would lose his fuckboy status if someone realized just how down bad he was for you?

probably anything but the last one was a good idea.

jaehyun was not in a good state of mind. he was a hot 19 year old man with a near perfect gpa (a whopping 3.98 only because he got a singular a-), a not so terrible set of dimples, and a killer body. and yet he was walking around like how he had been prior to his enlightening summer.

it's almost freeing but also humiliating to think that one night in bed was enough to make him start an entire philosophy but that was where jaehyun was at so who was he to question anything, really?

in fact, jaehyun is so caught up in what he would name his new branch of philosophy (loserism, with a lot of inspiration from zeno) that he doesn't even realize that you've already walked past him and taken your seat.

third row, first seat. you're putting your bag down next to your chair, pulling out your laptop, tossing your hair over your shoulder when it falls in your face. jaehyun tears his eyes away, knowing that this was not a good look for him.

if jaehyun really wanted to pursue you, which he was sure was where all of his jumbled emotions were eventually going to lead him anyway, he knew for a fact that you weren't going to be interested in having to take the lead. especially if jaehyun wasn't even sure that you were interested in the possibility.

but that's a struggle for another day. what was it that stephanie laurens said? that all women want sometimes is a little old-fashioned loving?

that was, in fact, the opposite of what sia had said you were really into but jaehyun had a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't mind handing the reigns over in the decision making process portion of a relationship, or the courtship, if your time together this weekend alluded to anything.

jaehyun almost misses the beginning of the lecture, where professor ma (no one actually calls him that besides himself) was going into some of his favorite places to stay during his time in china. and while missing any portion of professor ma's lecture was of no crime, he also almost misses the way that you're looking straight at him, faking a yawn when jaehyun finally locks eyes with you.

professor ma was known for giving stellar recommendation letters (which was why johnny had coerced jaehyun into ta'ing for his class in the first place) but he was such a pain in the ass.

jaehyun has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees your exaggerated gestures to show how boring you were finding the professor's lecture to be, pulling himself together in time for him to finally be able to take a seat in the back of the classroom, professor ma having asked him to take attendance for the some two hundred students in the classroom. by hand.

he almost drops the piece of paper that you slide into his hand, subtly slipping it into the pocket of his basketball shorts as makes his way up the flight of stairs to the tenth row, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him, in a rush to open the delicate piece of paper in his hands.

there's only three words on the piece of paper and a series of dashes and yet jaehyun knows that this is all he needs. this is all the signal he needs to know that he wasn't imagining the chemistry or the tension between the two of you. and fuck what anyone said about his 'reputation'; it was jaehyun's turn - the old jaehyun's turn - to get the chance to experience the relationship he had always been dreaming of.

he rereads the little piece of paper before smiling and tucking it into his pocket again.

earn the rest. 9__-___-____.

+++

johnny suh is getting whiplash from his best friend's actions.

one day, he's asking sia yoo if her best friend usually leaves her one night stands by the time they wake up. then he's throwing said one night stand's notes into the trash can before leaving for some frat meeting or another.

the next day, he's carrying another note from the same one night stand he can't seem to get out of his head.

jaehyun doesn't tell johnny anything. he really doesn't need to at this point. johnny suh is a senior in college and he's pretty much seen it all. he's also the vice president of a frat - which means that even if he didn't have all the experience that he did just because of his seniority, he definitely seen it because of the sheer number of stupid decisions frat brothers will find themselves making when they think they're going to either a) get drunk b) get high c) get their dick wet.

johnny knows it's all in good fun (fun that he's definitely not opposed to) but jaehyun's always been a little bit of an enigma when it came to all of it. he was good at the drinking and alright at the getting high and absolutely fan-fucking-tastic at the getting his dick wet.

it was the goddamn dimples. everyone always fell for the dimples.

and sure, while jaehyun had had crushes before (johnny could read his little like no other), they'd always been fueled by the hormonal rush of adrenaline and testosterone pumping through his veins. in fact, johnny's not sure that jaehyun had had a proper crush on anyone at college after getting fucked over in high school, where johnny had also gone to with jaehyun.

not that johnny had really known jaehyun. he was quieter and kept to himself more then. didn't really hang out in the same crowd as johnny.

he knows that's not necessarily true. johnny had, truthfully, just completely overlooked jaehyun. like a lot of girls had until jaehyun had finally started to grow into his features.

but johnny knows jaehyun now and he also knows that if jaehyun had never met gianna lee, jaehyun wouldn't have ever dove headfirst into the deep end of shitfuckery and sleeping around with every breathing body in sight.

cliché story of course. college boy becomes a fuckboy after having his heart broken by a girl in high school. johnny's almost 100% positive that sia's shoved at least two or three novels like those in johnny's face, with the same exact plot.

but what is life but a series of clichés after all. and honestly, did it even matter? it was real. it happened to jaehyun. that was all. end of story.

so johnny doesn't even say a word when he sees the post-it note in jaehyun's trash can. he's silent as he watches sia and jaehyun talk and jaehyun fall into a period of overthinking (and jaehyun knows he's overthinking too because johnny can see him shake his head even as he continues to stare at the 'people' tab of intro to east asia).

and johnny finally decides to break his silence when he sees jaehyun with a new post-it note, although this time it was a much more tame blue post-it, and a pensive look.

jaehyun slips it to johnny to read as they're sitting at the local starbucks, with johnny filling out some paperwork for the job he was signed on for as soon as the school year ended and jaehyun studying for the organic chemistry exam he had coming up the next week.

he doesn't say anything when he passes the note but johnny can see him sideye-ing him to catch his reaction and it's all he can do to keep from letting a little smile slip through.

he hands the piece of paper back, watching as jaehyun immediately stuffs it into his backpack, and for some reason, he's really not sure what to say. if sia were here, she would know exactly what to say, and how to say it. she had a way of saying things that were a little too straightforward to feel good but also obviously coming from a generally good place.

it was one of the reasons why johnny had thought it would be a good idea to make it official with her. sia yoo was nothing like what johnny had thought - and the thought simultaneously frightens him and comforts him.

"you plan on asking her out on a date?" johnny says lightly, sliding his laptop over to pretend to look at his phone casually. in actuality, he's typing furiously to sia (one of the few people that johnny trusted or consulted when it came to advice giving) about what was happening.

johnny is not very surprised when sia's gray bubble appears, disappears, and then appears again only to say, "yeah, i know."

he waits for a more elaborate response. or even a more sia-like response but the more that he talks to her, the more johnny is learning that sia is more unpredictable than she really seems to be.

and sia yoo seems to be completely out of the box.

johnny shakes his head, as if to physically get rid of the thoughts of her from his head, unsure why he was thinking of her when he was supposed to be helping out one of his boys.

"yeah. i think so? i don't know. i mean we had a good time and we definitely have chemistry. but we literally just had one night in bed and that's it." jaehyun furrows his eyebrows as he realizes that's not just it. "well, there is the fact that kun was walking around singing her praises. and i know that fatima wouldn't be friends with kun or y/n if she wasn't sure they're both good people. not to mention the fact that i've always thought she's kinda hot. but it's always been superficial. even us spending the night together was really nothing more than finding each other hot or trying to figure out if the talk around town was real or not."

johnny takes a sip of his americano as he lets jaehyun's words sink into his own mind. jaehyun rests his heads on his arms crossed in front of him and johnny knows exactly the set of thoughts that's running through jaehyun's mind because they were the same as johnny's when he had decided to ask sia out on a date.

is it worth it? is it worth possibly getting my heart strung up on someone again just to face the possibility of breaking it again?

so johnny offers the only advice that he really has.

"talk to roseanne. girls' fiercest protectors are their friends and something tells me that talking to her will make you fall on one side or the other."

+++

the next time that jaehyun sees roseanne is a complete coincidence. he really only meant to say hi to one of his homies, yugyeom, on the way out of the library and hadn't expected to run into roseanne or miyeon at all. especially not a singular day after johnny had suggested that he seek her out in the first place.

he watches as yugyeom thumbs the rip in miyeon's jeans as he continues to talk to jaehyun about something jeongguk had done the previous weekend. and then he sees miyeon press a kiss to roseanne's cheek as she gets up to fill up her water bottle.

jaehyun didn't think he would understand that dynamic at all but whatever floated their boat. who was he to judge? he had watched the barbie movie and was still having a crisis about his masculinity and was actively searching out his one night stand's (were you still just his one night stand?) roommate and best friend to fix it. to be fair, he didn't really fully understand the barbie movie, to the chagrin of doyoung's girlfriend nairobi but that was besides the point.

yeah. jaehyun was really in no position to speak. wow he had a lot of things to work on internally. the more he talked to the women in his life, the more he was realizing this. again. not the point.

roseanne takes one look at his face and then exchanges a look with miyeon and then yugyeom before standing up and walking towards the exit, looking at jaehyun questioningly when she realizes that jaehyun hasn't moved an inch. jaehyun hurriedly bids yugyeom and miyeon goodbye as he rushes after her.

the two of them linger outside of the library and roseanne just raises an eyebrow as she appraises jaehyun. and for some reason, jaehyun stands up straighter, and she just sighs, a small smile playing on her lips.

"let me guess. 'who makes people work for their number? what is this? sprinkle sprinkle type of stuff?' or maybe 'this is kinda cringey, isn't it?' or just a sweet and simple 'what the actual fuck?'" roseanne says nonchalantly, listing out each possible question jaehyun could have come to ask.

"would it make me a bad man if i said yes to all of the above?" jaehyun asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. roseanne shrugs, crossing her arms across her chest.

"not really. i don't think so at least. it's a fair set of questions that even i asked her the first time a guy came up to me asking who the fuck my roommate thought she was," roseanne says. she takes sees the look of confusion on jaehyun's face as she continues, "you're definitely not the first person to ask me that but you are of a selective few. y/n usually doesn't let people get this far in the first place. and secondly, she doesn't really tell us much about people she's interested in until much later."

"she's a strange person, if i'm being honest with you. there's just something about her that makes her so captivating and invisible at the same time. she'll capture the attention of everyone in the room but if you talk to her, she'll make you feel like her best friend. she seems like an open book, and an even more open friend. and you feel so close to her within a conversation and then you end the conversation, you realize that even as she spoke, she revealed nothing about herself."

"i'm her best friend and i could tell you very confidently that i didn't know a single thing about her truly until recently. it made me frustrated at first. like i was a shitty friend or something. but the closer to her i got, the more i realized that she's always been a great friend but no one's been a great friend to her. she's very selective with the people she associates with - not just people she lets herself be seen with but people she confides in."

"this whole thing is a defense mechanism. she'd be caught dead before she'd ever admit it but she just hasn't been loved in the way that she's loved and now she's more guarded for it. i'll tell you this jaehyun, but if you want to give up, do it now. she says she's just going to give you her number if you earn it but once you get all 10 digits, know that she's gonna give you her heart."

"it seems like i'm violating girl code by telling you all this but like i said, even if you were to ask y/n, she would say the same thing. not in so many words but still. like i said. she's an open book and a closed heart. she knows you're gonna ask me and so she only tells me something that she would be okay with you hearing."

jaehyun, who had been listening quietly and patiently the whole time, cuts in with a quiet voice. "isn't it exhausting to live like that?"

roseanne looks at him strangely, as though she was truly seeing him for the first time. jaehyun doesn't know if he's offended or relieved that she'd done what he'd done to sia - made assumptions based on his appearance. he lands on neutral. it's human nature, to try and make proper guesses about who's gonna act like what.

the ancient art of preventing heartbreak, jaehyun supposes.

"maybe. i don't think so though. it's gotta be a different level of relief knowing that no one's gonna talk shit about you because a) no one knows you well enough to do that or b) because you're so careful with who you trust that you know they'd never betray you or even c) they can only talk about what you put out into the world. it's why censorship is so effective. people can only talk about what they know. there's few people who will ignore what they see to find what they can't see tangibly."

"are all of y/n's friends secretly poets or something? why the hell are you guys all speaking cryptically like you're all freemasons or some shit like that. i can't tell if i find it cringey or cool," jaehyun says, cocking his head.

roseanne lets out a real, full bellied laugh at that, clutching her stomach as chuckles escape her. jaehyun's not sure what he's said that's so funny but he knows for a fact that she's not laughing with him, but at him.

"why is it cringey, jaehyun? why would it be cool? it's just what it is. we're just girls. you'll see us at the party next weekend, drinking our weight in alcohol. we'll have the conversations about makeup and dresses and having fun and our future and our past. there's nothing like freemasonry, i promise. it's just so amusing to see men get alarmed by the thoughts that girls have been wrestling with since they've been twelve. the duality of man, i guess," roseanne says finally, once she's caught her breath.

jaehyun doesn't know how to respond to that so he elects to save the remaining tatters of his dignity by just not responding at all. if there's one thing he's learned about you, it's that you surround yourself by women who are not hesitant about putting him in his place. and he's oddly thankful for it.

"i have one last question. well, two last questions, actually," jaehyun says when he sees roseanne turning around to head back inside, still wiping the tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.

roseanne turns, a knowing glint in her eyes even before jaehyun asks his question.

"how many guys have talked to you? and what's the highest number anyone's ever gotten to?"

roseanne is silent and just as the silence begins to turn awkward, she promptly turns on her heel and begins to walk away. she opens the door to the library before she seemingly changes her mind and looks back at jaehyun.

"two guys have talked to me. you're gonna have to ask fatima about the second question though. and jaehyun? the next number is 6."

96_-___-____.

+++

jaehyun finds fatima not soon after his conversation with roseanne. he's sitting in the nct house, watching johnny pace back and forth in his room, trying to figure out if what he was wearing was too casual for a date to a bowling alley.

it was way too formal, in jaehyun's opinion. but he was just going to wait for johnny to finish panicking (even if he would never admit that he was, in fact, panicking) to figure that out on his own. seriously though, who wore a button down and slacks to a bowling alley?

then again, he was going on a date with sia yoo so really, anything was fairplay when it came to that girl. she was a whirlwind of literally everything that could possibly go into a human being. she was a maximalist to the fullest, seizing every opportunity she could to make good memories, pressing forward with a sense of perfect clarity and sobriety that most people would be scared of.

the type of girl who was the main character of any story that she would feature in. sia was the type of person that people who trip and fall over themselves trying to have a good time with that she practically promised. she walked around with fairy dust in her fingers and a strange sense of wisdom that felt like she could read you like a book within a singular meeting with her.

jaehyun knows that she's the most intimidating out of all of the girls. out of you, roseanne, fatima, and sia, she was hands down the most frightening because even though she could read everyone else, no one could really read her.

then there was roseanne. she was the wet dream of every girl alive - the reason why straight girls lamented that they were straight and still falling a little bit in love with her. she was hot, flirtatious to the extent of making everyone wonder what they were when she gave them even a split second of attention, and so incredibly full of life. it doesn't surprise jaehyun that she had become exclusive with miyeon and yugyeom. for some reason, he feels like she just wouldn't have been able to settle for liking one person at once.

she was a little too much for just one person to be able to handle. she was like the human personification of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle driving, woody cologne smelling wattpad trope. jaehyun understands her appeal all too well.

and then there was fatima. she was kind, sweet, kept to herself, and always offered a helping hand to those around her. jaehyun understood why kun had fallen so hard for her within two minutes of meeting her. she had an air about her that made you feel like she was someone who truly cared about you, even if you didn't know her and she didn't know you all that well. she was the type of girl who was always forgotten in the novels about warriors and princesses. the girl who was often reduced to nothing more than the main character's best friend.

until you met a girl like her in real life. fatima was still a little forgotten, and jaehyun knew that. guys often overlooked her in favor of her 'hotter' or 'wilder' friends, which is admittedly what jaehyun had thought at first. but she was just so genuine and clearheaded. she protected her peace in a way that was so unusual for young, college-going students. not to say that sia, roseanne, or you weren't genuine or anything like that. but fatima was the type of girl that jaehyun knew was perfect for kun. the girl that he could go home and know that no matter what he had done in his past, she would love him all the same.

and there was you. smart, strangely private, and a series of contradictions housed within one heart. jaehyun wracks his brain, trying to gather everything that he knew about you and yet, he comes up empty.

frustratingly empty.

jaehyun vaguely registers the fact that johnny has finally changed and is getting ready to go. he knows that he should say something about how johnny should just be himself and that sia liking him is completely up to her, regardless of what johnny were to do. but when he locks eyes with johnny, he realizes that johnny already knows.

so jaehyun just claps him on the back as he heads back to his room, his mind spinning as he tries to think of everything that he knows about you. and he draws a blank every fucking time.

he knows superficial things about you. maybe it's because he doesn't know you like he knows your friends. he hasn't talked to you as much as he's talked to them. but how does he not know you? he's been wanting to get with you for so long. he wanted more than just your body. he wanted your charm and your appeal.

was it just your body? is that all it was? is that all jaehyun wanted? somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to believe that. he doesn't want that for himself. logically, he knows that gianna's impact on his life shouldn't be extending this far. he knows that he shouldn't want or have to fight himself this hard but you're not making it much easier for him.

when was the last time jaehyun wanted to get to know such an enigma of a girl? gianna lee. and he wants nothing to do with a girl like that ever again.

and yet, here he is. falling into the same trap all over again.

jaehyun's so caught up in his own thoughts, feeling himself starting to spiral when he bumps in fatima and kun, who are equally caught up in a conversation with each other.

"oh, my bad," jaehyun mumbles, ready for fatima to brush past him but she doesn't, looking at jaehyun and then kun.

"hey man, we're headed back to my place. why don't you come back with us?" kun offers, and jaehyun just nods blankly, as he starts to follow them out of the nct house. kun stops at the entrance where he picks up a textbook from yuta, who had been borrowing it for the last week, before the three of them make their way out.

"how are you, jaehyun?" fatima asks with a sweet smile as they pile into kun's car. somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to give her a generic, insincere answer.

"i'm...okay. i'm just okay. confused but okay," jaehyun says and fatima seems alright with this answer. kun pulls out of the 'driveway' of the frat house, exchanging in a quiet conversation with fatima about what they were planning on eating for the night, leaving jaehyun to simmer in his thoughts.

gianna lee. there was a name that he thought about almost every day and never all at the same time. the girl who had made him and broke him. the girl that jaehyun had trusted with his heart and made him regret ever doing that.

the girl who had been the first love of his life.

+++

gianna was a year younger than him. smart, so incredibly sweet, and yet someone that no one could confidently say that they knew. she was the type of girl who could slip under the radar as easily as her friends seemed to always stay on top of.

she ran in the same circle as jaehyun had in senior year, right when jaehyun was beginning to blossom into the man that he was today. she had always been kind to him, if not a little withdrawn, even when he was a skinny boy with proportions that absolutely did not seem to match each other.

jaehyun didn't even know her well enough for her to break his heart, honestly. jaehyun had liked her even before having a proper conversation with her. he knew how left out she felt in her own body. even though he couldn't imagine a more gorgeous girl, he knew that she didn't feel that way about herself.

he knew that she always compared herself to her friends. her well-accomplished, 'main character' best friends who were the talk of the school. and her. no matter how intelligent or kind or put together she was, no one really looked at her the way that jaehyun did. she knew it.

even jaehyun couldn't place why he liked her so much. maybe it was the fact that he was somehow comforted that a girl with so much beauty could feel the same way as him. maybe it was the fact that she had always held the same smile for him, regardless of what he looked like. or maybe it was even the fact that one time, she had held his hand as she pulled him across the street, running to catch up with their friends who had already crossed.

jaehyun just remembers looking at her dyed cherry red hair falling into her eyes as she laughs, pulling him forward to where the rest of their friends were standing. and as he breathes in the smoke in the air and the raspberry scent of her perfume, he just knows that he really, truly likes gianna lee.

gianna lee doesn't like him the way that he likes her. he knows that. logically, jaehyun knows that his feelings are truly unfounded. he really has no reason to like gianna the way that he does. and yet, there's a part of him that holds onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll turn around with those big eyes and upturned lips and say that she likes him the way that he likes her.

so he continues to look at her first when he makes the friend group laugh. he always slips her a napkin when he's getting one for himself when they're out getting milkshakes. he offers to help her with apush when she's stressing about a test the next week.

the closer he gets to her, the more jaehyun realizes that really, she was nothing like the image of her he had conjured in his head. she was every bit sweet as he had thought but she was argumentative, competitive, and all too obsessed with perfection. she always needed to be right in an argument, always had to win, and always had to make sure that she looked flawless doing so.

jaehyun doesn't realize it, of course. he's so obsessed with his glazed over façade of her that he just continues to let her win the arguments even when he knows that she's wrong. and she lets him wrap his arms around her when she gets an 89% on her test.

he lets her walk all over him and she lets him act on his feelings.

it was a toxic, parasitic relationship that neither of them were truly happy in. when gianna asked him out, jaehyun hadn't felt like fireworks were going off in his stomach. he felt like he had won a prize at a marathon. like he'd won a medal.

gianna wasn't a medal. she was a flawed, beautiful human being - every bit gorgeous and horrible as jaehyun and every other human being was. but jaehyun had won, hadn't he?

he hadn't. and it took so long for him to realize that by the time he'd realized that gianna had really only taken to him out of pity, he was so far in his own head that he didn't know how to leave her.

eventually, the summer before college rolled around and gianna had taken it upon herself to do the nasty deed of breaking up with him. it had been an amicable split, as far as their friends were concerned.

but none of them had ever truly either of their friends. so what did they know?

what did they know about gianna finding comfort in her ex's arms? what did they know about her grades slipping at the end of the school year? what did they know about her having to excuse herself at a meeting for her internship to sob in the bathroom as she realized the true fallacy in the way she had acted? what did they know about the way she had to reconstruct herself bottom up? nothing.

what did they know about jaehyun spending every other night with a different girl, trying to ease the ache in his heart? what did they know about the obscene number of hours at the gym, not sure how to combat the sudden numbness after girl after girl? what did they know about the fact that jaehyun could not physically stand the smell of raspberries anymore? absolutely nothing.

no one knew anything until jaehyun had finally come to college. it was once he joined the frat and met guys who were so alike and different from him at the same time that he finally opened up about gianna.

only to doyoung, kun, and johnny but people nonetheless. everyone had gone through something similar - while for some it happened at college or back home, they all knew the pain. some of them were more in the fault than others but pain is pain and a paper cut bleeds the same red as a gunshot wound.

which is why when kun sits him down on the couch and fatima hands him a cup of iced tea to save them all from the sweltering heat as august makes a last stand against september's winds, jaehyun spills everything.

gianna. his past. his insecurities. everything. he knows he shouldn't. logically, fatima had nothing stopping her from going and telling everything that jaehyun had told her to you, but for some reason, jaehyun thinks that she won't.

she doesn't.

+++

fatima knows that jaehyun was going to talk to her about something like this. it seemed that all of the nct boys came with some level of trauma like this. she wasn't sure what it was about every single boy she had met in college (although, granted, they were either her friends' conquests or kun's friends - a very interesting group of very intertwined boys) having their hearts getting ripped to shreds. sometimes it was of their own volition but they all seemed to be some level of hurt either way.

so when jaehyun spills his heart out on kun's carpeted floors, she's ready with a well-rehearsed speech. he's one of six boys she'd already had this same exact conversation with (kun has a bad habit of picking up strays) but when he looks at her with such raw anguish in his eyes, she falters.

she looks to kun, who's looking at her with the same question that she knows jaehyun is asking.

"how do you know when to choose between your head and your heart? because my heart is so fucking scared of getting attached to someone again. but my head knows that i can't push everyone away because i'm scared."

fatima is quiet, searching for the right words. she's about to say something when kun speaks up, looking determinedly at fatima.

"you learn to choose you. instead of choosing between your head and your heart, just choose yourself. at the end of the day, you and y/n are good people who aren't trying to hurt each other. you're both trying not to get hurt. and honestly, maybe you'll realize that you both are better off as friends along the way. maybe you just realize that you don't want to be with someone right now. or maybe you find someone who makes you feel like you're safe and loved when you're around them, whether you're in love with them or not." fatima looks at kun with a soft smile, reaching out to hold his hand gently.

"you have to choose yourself, jaehyun. trust me. the more you start thinking about what is best for the people around you instead of thinking for yourself, you'll look back fifteen, twenty years down the road and see everyone but yourself in your life. don't do something because gianna and how she made you feel. don't let your past define your future," fatima says, and jaehyun can feel the tears prick his eyes. he blinks determinedly, trying to make them disappear but when kun sits on one side of him and fatima on the other, he starts losing his battle against his emotions, finally letting himself mourn the innocence he had once had.

he buries his head into fatima's shoulder and for some reason, he feels as though kun and fatima would be amazing parents. because jaehyun doesn't remember the last time that he had felt this safe in an embrace.

"and jaehyun? the furthest anyone has ever gotten is five numbers. you're at three. it's your call from here. do what you want, not what you think you need to do." fatima taps his shoulder gently and lets him cry for as long as he needs to.

963-___-____.

+++

jaehyun gets the next number from you. after his conversation with fatima, he's sure that if he wants to go any further than this, he needed to talk to you first.

it's strange. he's earning your number but it feels like jaehyun's somehow earning himself back. and when he finds you again, he knows that you can tell.

even johnny could tell. when he had come back from his (successful) date with sia, the first thing he had said was, "wow. you look so...light."

jaehyun hadn't said anything but 'thank you' but it was enough.

johnny had just smiled at him and recounted the date, stating that he was going to ask her to go on another date this saturday night. jaehyun doesn't mention the fact that nct is throwing that night because johnny already knows.

and honestly, sia is a junior and johnny is a senior. they've been to their fair share of parties. one party being missed wouldn't be life changing for them. but skipping a party as the vice president of a frat and a girl who was sought after as a sweetheart for six frats meant something nonetheless.

he hadn't expected that they were to get that serious that quickly but it was a refreshing change. even fatima and kun were starting about talking about talking to fatima's parents to get their blessing for their relationship. her dilemma was no secret and it seemed that the conversation between the three of them had served to help them through their own issues as well.

there was just something in the air, jaehyun had supposed. august turned to september in the week that jaehyun had wrestled with himself, eventually leading to seeking you out.

it had been at the nct party, actually. you were standing with some of your acquaintances, all of your friends having dispersed to do what they were going to do. jaehyun had been on the other side of the room, convincing bambam that it was most definitely not a good idea to try and pursue soyeon jeon if he wanted to make sure that he woke up with all his limbs intact the next morning.

you had met his eye, raising an eyebrow before continuing your conversation, all thoughts of him seemingly out of your mind. jaehyun looks between bambam (who has gone from trying to get with soyeon to jumping into the pool) (that pool had not been cleaned in a full six months) and you. he just finds jungwoo, one of the pledges, and hands him a very drunk bambam.

"do not let him do anything dumb. i'm counting on you pledge," jaehyun called out over his shoulder as he weaves through people to get to you.

"jaehyun! hey! long time no see," hailey whitfield says, throwing herself in jaehyun's arms. jaehyun looks at you, where you're staring straight at where hailey's body ends and his arms begin. jaehyun tries to push her off of him. once upon a time, jaehyun would've been behind happy about getting with her again - she was so good with her mouth. but now, he has no intentions of giving you the wrong impression.

at least until he has a proper conversation with you so that you knew where he stood with you. and where you stood with him.

"hey hailey, sorry i've gotta get to my friend," he says, not even looking at her as he pushes off of her, resuming his threading through the crowd to where you're standing. you look at him, unimpressed, but jaehyun knows you well enough to know that three numbers are enough to make you feel a certain way if jaehyun was fooling around with other girls.

which he hasn't been. not a single night. jaehyun jung's bed has been empty for an entire two weeks, something that doyoung and nairobi have been taking full advantage of.

even some of jaehyun's friends had started asking if he was having problems or something but he had brushed them off. he definitely wasn't having problems, if hailey whitfield was any indication. but he felt like it would be doing you dirty if he had someone in his bed while he was talking to your friends about you.

so he hadn't.

he knows you know. he knows that you know he's talked to sia, roseanne, and fatima. he'd figured that you'd find out either through them or just by him. he can tell by the look in your eyes that you've read him thoroughly.

so he really doesn't feel bad about pulling you away from your friends, taking you upstairs to his room. finally, doyoung had promised that they would go back to nairobi's place on the condition that jaehyun made sure that no one would try to fuck on his bed. he promised, knowing that the only person who'd be coming up here would be him. he needed to talk to you tonight. if he knew anything it was that.

but once you're sitting on his bed, watching him pace back and forward, he's lost everything he's been wanting to say. where does he even start? with gianna? with the questions he has for you? with the number? where does he begin?

jaehyun looks at you, where you're watching him with a small smile on your face and suddenly, it doesn't matter where he begins. you'll listen to it all. he knows that much.

"why do you want me to work for your number?" jaehyun asks. you look at him curiously, tilting your head as you piece together an answer.

"are you sure you don't know the answer to that question?" you say, folding your legs so that you're sitting criss cross on the navy covers.

"i do. but i want to hear it from you, y/n. you know what all your friends say about you? that they didn't properly know you until a full year of friendship with you. but they said that you never lie. so i want you to tell me," jaehyun says, chest heaving by the end of his ramble. his eyes turn soft as he watches you become more and more solemn and he steps forward, sitting down on his desk chair and swiveling it over so that he was sitting directly across from you.

you pause for a moment, searching for the words before saying anything. "i've never been in a relationship before. so i don't have the trauma that could come from something like that. but i know what it's like to lose your heart to someone. and i know that it hurts. i want to be loved in the way that i never thought i could be. so the number thing is just an excuse for me to get to the point where i won't feel guilty about liking someone."

you shrug, smiling but not allowing the smile to reach your eyes. "it's a good way to make sure that the guy knows what he's getting into either way."

jaehyun nods at that. he knew that much. it feels different hearing it from you though. when you're the one saying it, jaehyun knows that it's real. raw. not coming from people trying to protect you because they know that you're far too soft to truly come at him guns blazing.

somehow, he likes it. he likes that you're much softer than you seem. that you're a lot more vulnerable than you come off as. and for some reason, jaehyun hopes that you never perfect the art of becoming standoffish.

"hmm. you've never been in a relationship before?" jaehyun says finally and you nod, shrugging once more. a shadow of bittersweet nostalgia crosses your face before you're back to your soft smile and guarded yet curious eyes.

"nope. part of it was on me; i've got high standards, if you can't tell. and the other part was that i've always wanted someone who fascinates me. of course, i wasn't all that appealing to men because i spent so much time trying to beat them at the only thing they were good at - ego-boosting themselves but they weren't interesting. none of them were people i really wanted to get to know," you say, unfolding your legs.

jaehyun likes the fact that the tips of your toes are the only part of your feet that touch the ground from how far back you're sitting on the bed. in an act of boldness, jaehyun moves forward to sit next to you, right where you're sitting. his feet are flat on the floor, he realizes.

he doesn't know why he's noticing things like this but he is and something about that frustrates him, frightens him, and tugs at his heartstrings altogether.

"you're heartbroken, aren't you? boys like you always seem to be a little hurt," you say, tossing the words into the air like rose petals. they're recklessly thrown but they're somehow beautiful in the way that blackened roses are always beautiful.

"yeah. i was. i think i will always mourn who i was before that. i was so naïve. but i'm not him anymore. and i think i'm realizing that i'm actually okay with that." jaehyun says the words just as carelessly as you do but once they're out in the open, he realizes that he's being completely honest. he turns to you with a strange look though.

"boys like me?"

you smile and nod at him. "boys like you."

you stand up, walking to where jaehyun has a corkboard with a shitload of scraps and photos from the past two years. you don't mention the fact that none of the memories that he has on the board date from before senior year. you don't need to.

"boys like you who've never been loved completely. boys who think that they need to listen to what the world says about how they should be acting or thinking. boys who are hopeless romantics but what would the world say if they knew that these boys just wanted a little bit of love? what would they say if they were looking for warmth in an empty and cold bed?"

jaehyun hates that you're right. it's the college boy tragedy. condemned to never be able to completely heal from one bad experience and then always breaking hearts to collect enough pieces to build themselves a new one.

he didn't want to end like that. even if it wasn't with you, he was ready to grow past it. he didn't want to end as a heartbreaker.

"boys like me...and you like a boy like me?" jaehyun asks. he doesn't know why he does. this is the first proper conversation you've had with him when both of you are decidedly sober. you want to deflect the question but if he's being honest, that's a sign for you to be just as honest.

"i don't know. from what my friends say, and what i know about you as a person in class, i know you mean well. and honestly, i've always just been the type of person to like someone past things like the books they read or the way they dress," you say, still looking at the memories jaehyun's pieced together over the years on this board. "i feel something around you. and i don't know you well enough to know that i like you as someone more than a friend but i'd like to at least have the chance to get that far."

that's all jaehyun needs. he gets another number that night.

+++

jaehyun waits for you outside of intro to east asia, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to make it out of the classroom. you're the last one to leave, knowing that technically, you and jaehyun weren't allowed to see each other while he was your ta.

jaehyun had never really pegged you as someone with so much respect for the rules but you had argued that it was mostly about the principle.

he'd learned a lot about you that last weekend. you and him had stayed up all night, talking about nothing and everything under the sun until the sun itself rose, eventually falling asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and conversations.

he learned that while you didn't like the rules, you often followed them as long as they followed your own moral code. that you would die for your friends and that had landed you in many bad friendships when people would use that to their advantage before you'd met your friends in college. he learned that you were super close with your family, and that they were quite literally the best friends that you could always rely on.

and he learned that you wanted to see him again. on a date. sometime soon. so with no real way of communicating with you outside of social media (and he somehow felt like sliding into your dm's was corny and somewhat of a copout), here he was. waiting outside of the classroom like he was ripped straight from a 1950's romance movie. he even had the letterman jacket on to boot.

"oh my god, you scared me," you say, pressing a hand to your chest as you quite nearly bump into jaehyun. he smiles, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders as the two of you start walking.

"you knew i was waiting for you outside, didn't you?" he says, pushing the side door open to walk towards the parking lot, where he's convinced kun to let him borrow his car for the day.

"yeah but i didn't think you would be literally outside the door," you murmur, checking your phone to see the rest of your day's schedule. you had purposefully blocked off three hours of your schedule to hang out with jaehyun, which you were sure to regret later on when your organic chemistry class kicked your ass. but that was a later issue.

"well, i couldn't text you where i was so i figured i'd wait in plain sight," jaehyun retorts, opening the passenger door for you without a word. huh. that was the first time a man has ever done that for you. and jaehyun did it as though it were second nature - like it was a given.

you don't know why something so small means so much to you but you're alright with it. you're alright with just appreciating it.

"that's fair," you say. another number's on the tip of your tongue as you watch him get into the driver's seat but jaehyun beats you to the punch.

"don't give me a number. not yet," jaehyun says. "not that i don't want one. but i just...me waiting outside your classroom or opening your door isn't enough for a number. even if i don't get all ten, you've got to up your standards."

you don't know what to say to that so you don't say anything, turning on the music and letting the melody of chemtrails under the country club by lana del ray fill the rainy september afternoon sky.

+++

when jaehyun pulls up to a run down diner, you're pleasantly surprised. although you're not much of a sucker for romantic places, the fact that jaehyun is somehow makes you happy. it makes you happy that he still sees the beauty in places like these. and when you look over at him, dimples threatening to show as he breathes in the air of misty fog and the smell of milkshakes and burgers, you're so tempted to kiss him.

so you lean over, looking at him with a twinkle in your eyes once jaehyun has parked.

"can i kiss you?" you ask, mere inches from his lips. jaehyun just looks at you, and from this close, you realize just how beautiful his eyes are. they're dark, darker than anyone else's that you know. and yet, it feels like you could fall in and never regret it.

"please."

it's all you need. and it's all he needs because as soon as word slips from his lips, he's pressing forward, his lips against yours. he's soft, you register vaguely. nothing like last time. nothing like how he'd kissed you like he could think of nothing but absolutely ruining you.

jaehyun is soft. like the feeling of slipping a cold hand into someone's warm jacket pocket. he kisses you like he's scared of ruining you. ruining this. and you're absolutely addicted to the feeling.

the feeling of knowing that he could just claim you instead of trying his best to claim your heart. no matter how fucked up it was that you were even thinking that someone could 'claim' you. he wasn't like that and you could work with that.

he pulls away from you, eyes still closed as he sits against the drivers seat, his head against the headrest. you watch him, a silly and childish smile on your face - although you're not really sure why it's there in the first place. but who are you to knock anything?

there aren't many words to exchange as the two of you make your way into the diner. jaehyun had opened your car door again. this time, you just offer him your hand and you're strangely alright with just how safe you feel with his hand locked in yours.

the diner seems as though time has frozen still here.

and everything about the date seems the same. it feels as though time has frozen still - almost as though the two of you are in a little bubble with no one but each other. it's a feeling you haven't experienced in a while. a feeling you don't think you've ever had because of a boy.

it feels...almost scarily comfortable. it doesn't feel as though there are fireworks exploding for every word that jaehyun says. but it does feel as though that there's a hot mug of cocoa that's been handed to you on a cold winter night. and that feeling, the feeling of warmth spreading through every corner of your body, is the feeling that you know is good for you.

so you listen to him, watch him speak animatedly about basketball or a book he read, chin resting in your palm as you find yourself falling deeper and deeper.

jaehyun gets two numbers that day.

+++

it doesn't take much longer for jaehyun to get the rest of the numbers. soon enough, you're more than happy just to spend time with him the way that you spend time with your friends. you feel as though you've made a good friend out of someone you'd thought that you wouldn't even be able to get along with.

"you know, when i first met you, even before i knew you, i really didn't like you," you say, taking a sip out of your latte. the seasons have changed, fall giving way to winter. the november air bites your skin every time someone opens the door to the tiny café the two of you were sitting in.

jaehyun smiles, nodding as he leans back in his chair. "i know. i could tell by the look in your eyes."

"the look in my eyes?"

"yeah. the one that said that you wanted to get to know me. to figure out my deal even if you didn't necessarily want to find out for sure. kind of like you wanted to be the one that said 'aha!' at the end of a movie, even though you weren't sure of the ending at all."

you look at jaehyun for a moment before laughing, shaking your head as you laugh. "you're even starting to talk like me now."

jaehyun pauses before he nods, smiling with you. "yeah, i know. you've rubbed off on me in a lot of ways."

"i've improved your music taste, that's for sure," you snort, taking another sip out of your latte. "i still can't believe you didn't like ric flair drip when we met."

"it's not that i didn't like it and it's still not that i like it now. but i guess i just have a good memory associated with it now so it's growing on me," jaehyun says. your eyebrows furrow as you try to recollect what good memory he could possibly be referring to.

"oh my god. the night that we met! i was trying to get in your pants with ric flair drip," you say incredulously, shivering when someone opens and closes the door once more. jaehyun hands you his hoodie, leaving his arm extended silently when you protest.

you don't know why you still bother trying to protest with him when you knew you were going to lose. you put the sweater on as jaehyun starts talking, letting the scent of clean water and pine trees swaddle you softly.

"honestly, i think i was more than you that night," jaehyun says, as he looks at you with an incriminating twinkle in his eyes. "that was around the time that even taeyong said that he wanted to see if kun's vivid descriptions were true or not. and i wasn't about to let him get the opportunity to get to you before i did. i don't know why. i felt almost protective over you. but not in a good way. in the type of way where i wanted to show you how good i could make you feel - more than anyone could even begin to think of making you feel."

the previously cold café begins to become a lot hotter than you were feeling before, clearing your throat as you try to let the moment pass.

"how did we even get here?" you say, fanning yourself delicately. the move only serves to work against you when you fan yourself so that the scent of his cologne on his hoodie only gets stronger in your mind.

jaehyun leans back, letting you switch the conversation. he'd bring it up to you later in the night, anyway. besides, for someone who puts on such a strong front, it's honestly a little fun to see you squirm at the slightest implications from jaehyun.

"but, uh, jaehyun. i've been meaning to ask you something for a while," you begin, fidgeting with the wrapper of the straw in front of you. jaehyun tilts his head as if to question what you have to say as he waits patiently.

"what are we?"

now jaehyun is truly confused. was the past month of going on dates not clear enough? jaehyun wasn't going on dates with anyone else. oh my god. were you going on dates with other men? is that why you're asking.

"i thought we were dating?" jaehyun says, phrasing his sentence more like a question than a statement. "i mean i'm not talking to anyone else and i kinda assumed that since i'd gotten all ten numbers, neither were you."

you hum, unable to stop the silly smile on your face.

"good. that's just what i was thinking too."

+++

honestly, everything about jaehyun jung is appealing to you. from the way that he engulfs you in a hug when you're up late studying. or the way that he convinces you that you have a virus on your laptop just so that he could spend more time with you 'fixing' your laptop for you. or the way that he sits with you and your friends, patiently listening and offering advice wherever he can (or honestly, is just allowed to speak).

you're so glad to see him like this. as your boyfriend of four and a half months (you hadn't let him make it official until he was no longer your ta), you've seen him grow in ways that you'd never thought. jaehyun was every inch the stupid, naïve fuckboy you'd thought him to be in the beginning. and he was also every inch the hopeless romantic with a little too much love to give for a scarred heart.

so you heal together. you help each other when you quite literally can't handle the pain and together, you grow. he's more confident. not just in the way that he looks - but the way that he speaks around people. the way that he educates himself. the way that he communicates how he feels.

and he helps you everyday. he shows you what it feels like to be loved the way you love others. he shows you that you are worth the princess treatment. and most importantly for you, he loves the people around you the way you love the people around you.

kun and fatima find their happy ending. fatima had spoken to her parents and while they took some time to warm up to kun, his soft demeanor and the way that he loved fatima so completely and sincerely eventually won them over. fatima even met kun's parents with equal success, although kun's mother kept asking when fatima and kun would get married.

(their wedding was already in the works by both fatima's mother and kun's mother. you were beyond elated to go to both the traditional muslim ceremony and the traditional chinese ceremonies.)

johnny and sia ended up going out on a couple more dates before realizing that they probably just weren't meant to be a couple. they loved each other as friends and were probably always going to hold a special place in each other's lives but it just wouldn't be as each other's significant others. johnny was already starting to retreat from the frat boy lifestyle after meeting a girl at the library one day. and sia had finally met someone who could handle her crazy personality with a sweet smile, bringing her back down to reality whenever she went a little...too lively. you're looking forward to meeting him over summer, where the four of you and your friends were going on a vacation together.

roseanne, yugyeom, and miyeon still haven't put a label on their relationship. but you've caught roseanne falling asleep in yugyeom's arms more than once (one too many times than rosie cares to admit) so you figure that it's a good thing that they've all found each other. as unconventional as their relationship might be, they all mesh together so well that you can't even find it in yourself to question it. all's fair in love and war.

jaehyun and you frequent the diner as a favorite date night spot to visit, although you're upset to hear that they're remodeling the entire establishment for favor of a new, more 'modern' atmosphere. although how modern a diner could get was a little bit of a strange notion. but as people change, so do the winds.

and when you walk into the diner the next semester, hand in hand with jaehyun, you're a little comforted to see that diner is now a speakeasy (in true 1970s fashion) with three words written in blinding rhinestones against the velvet background. of course.

ric flair drip.

[mixingpumpkins]

Man, we really lost when we decided that the best way to feel safe or to try to prevent bad things from happening is to assume malicious intent from everyone and police every little fucking thing about existing.

Want to go shopping? You'll be treated like a thief. Security cameras, anti-theft sensors by the door, and a staff that may or may not follow you around isn't enough; we're also putting security tags on every single piece of $4 underwear in the bargain bin and keeping everything on the shelves under lock and key, so you can't even look at it without staff assistance/supervision. No, cameras and staff monitoring checkouts isn't enough. We also need someone else searching your bags and verifying your receipts at the door. (And god help you if a security sensor somewhere didn't get deactivated properly and the door alarm goes off.)

Are you a student taking an exam? We've already decided you're a cheater. Of course you are — all students cheat. So you get assigned, spaced out seats in the testing room, surrounded by cameras. Show us your photo ID at the door. Nothing goes in the room with you but your pencil. Leave your phone, wallet, water, and anything else in a locker outside. All your jewelry, too. No long sleeves. Let us check your hair/headbands/pockets/ears/religious garb in case you're smuggling something in. Need to leave for the restroom? No, you don't, or your exam is done. Emergency? You can choose between literally shitting yourself or failing your course and risking expulsion for cheating.

Online exam? Prepare to be subject to literal spyware. Your eyes better not waver a fraction out of the "acceptable" gaze window. Don't press any button you're not supposed to or mis-click anything; that's proof you're trying to cheat. Don't even think about shifting in your seat, even if your test is two hours long.

Do you work? It'd better be at top speed and no errors at all times. We have security cameras trained on you every moment, sensitive enough to read the text of any paper you handle. We're tracking exactly what you do and how fast. Did your metrics slip for even a second? Unacceptable, even if your rate is otherwise within our "acceptable" range, because we know you can work faster. Yawn? How dare you — we don't pay you to be tired. You're not working hard enough. You must not have enough to do — your requirements have now tripled and we've cut your pay as an incentive not to waste time again. Make a mistake? You must have done it on purpose. You must be trying to steal or sabotage. We'll be evaluating to see how quickly we can fire you and if we can press charges or sue you for damages.

Need to travel via plane? It doesn't matter if you're paying through the nose to do so; you're clearly a criminal who's only not committing a crime at this very moment because you're outnumbered by security officers. We need to question you excessively if you don't look exactly like your ID picture taken three years ago. Take off half your clothes and walk through our scanners that will basically show you without them. (Then prepare to be wanded, and possibly groped — maybe even by more than one person — and if we really feel like it, taken to another room to be stripped and questioned further.) You can't take some necessities with you. Your belongings will be x-rayed and pawed through and commented upon, and they're maybe even a reason to detain and question you further. Why does your purse have suspicious organic matter in it? No, that can't possibly be a bag of fruit snacks you bought from the kiosk 20 feet away; you're trying to hide explosives.

Need medication? You're lying. You're faking. You're just trying to get drugs. You're an addict. You're a dealer. No, you don't have a condition that really requires medication; if you just slept more/lost weight/did yoga/were a better person, you wouldn't have to feel like you need to use drugs. We don't care if your doctor says you need this medication — your insurance company says you don't. Oh, you can afford it anyway? At that price? You must be reselling. We need to investigate and put notes on your file.

Communicating via message? God forbid you take even a fraction of a second too long to respond. You must be trying to hide something. You're slacking off your work. You must be cheating on your partner. You must have a problem with the sender and are leaving them out of something. You left them on read; you're being a bitch. You edited a response or took too long to type something — you're actually being mean and manipulative by not just saying what was on your mind first. Company policy is we get to see everything on your devices. You shouldn't have a problem sharing your personal location/passwords/etc. with your partner if you're not up to no good.

Want to simply exist where a stranger might see you? That's suspicious. What are you doing out here? We don't recognize you. You must be stealing. You must be casing the houses or stores in this neighborhood. You must be looking for someone to rob/assault/harass/etc. You must be part of that rabble claiming they're protesting to cover up the nuisances and criminals they are. Why did you hold a door for me — are you trying to get behind me? Why have I seen you more than once while I'm shopping here — are you following me? Why did you smile at me — do you have a problem? Why are you walking down the street? Why are you sitting on a bench? Why are you visiting the library? Why are you eating alone at the cafe? You don't look like you belong here. You look like a creep. You need the police to come handle you. (If they use force, that just shows you were up to something and totally deserve it.)

Want to exist online? We need to know everything about you — your real name, address, email, age — to ensure you're not a criminal. But you're probably also lying. We need to spy on everything you do, too: every site you visit (and how long you spend there), every purchase you make, every message you send, every search you do. We will take everything you say in bad faith, so be careful about what you post. But it's also extremely suspicious if you don't post — who doesn't have an extensive social media presence these days? What are you trying to hide? You need to indicate that you think the right way. You aren't posting about this — you must not care; you must be a bad person. You deleted an old post — you must be trying to hide your awful views. You can't possibly just be removing things from your profile that no longer reflect who you are. You posted something that I don't like — I knew there was something off about you. It's not a leap to think you're also into worse things. You're probably a pervert. You're actually a criminal of the worst sort and this is an early warning sign for those of us who are smart enough to see it. We're only accusing you of these things NOW so you don't have an opportunity to do them.

Didn't you know? You need to be constantly watched and humiliated and inconvenienced and sometimes even attacked because that's the only thing standing in the way of bad things happening. If you find all this demeaning, there's something wrong with you. Only criminals would rather trade this for being less safe. You don't want us to go from thinking you're a criminal to knowing you're a criminal, do you?

...

Like, fuck. Aren't you tired of living like this???

Some of this stuff has been around for a long time, and it obviously isn't applied evenly across all demographics. But a lot of it has also gotten exponentially worse within the past few decades. Please don't ever accept any of this as normal or necessary or good, because it's not. I'm going insane watching people shrugging off the increasing infantilization and dehumanization of everyone just because this is all they can remember.

It doesn't have to be this way. Don't ever take this shit as a given — it wasn't that long ago that some of this would have been unthinkable. And the instant someone starts talking about doing things a certain way/supporting certain things because of "safety" or "security," be very careful about blindly agreeing with them. We lose very real, important things in pursuit of the nebulous concept of "safety."

[smutoperator]

Morning Roses

Park Chaeyoung (Rosé) x Male Reader

Tags: breeding kink, CMNF, (lots of) cock stroking, creampie, (lots of) fingering, good smell, morning sex, passionate sex, pussy sniffing, quickie, (a little) rimjob, switching

Word Count: 3177

Los Angeles, United States

It's early in the morning, and you're already up to go to work. The busy traffic of Los Angeles is implacable. However, as you were preparing to take your regular morning commute, you got a text message from a longtime lover you hadn't seen in a while.

"I'm in LA today; come see me." Rosé texted you. It had been a while since she had sent you a message. It used to be a given that she would come to your place every time she went to LA, but with her taking new steps into her solo career, you two were unable to see each other the last couple times she went to the city of angels.

You immediately canceled any of your plans, ready to see Rosé again after a long time. The selfie she had sent you drove you insane—her long blond hair, short skirt, long legs, and skinny body looking better than ever. She was truly aging like fine wine, becoming a hotter and hotter woman as time passed by.

You arrived at the house Rosé had sent the location to you; she greeted you with the same outfit she was wearing on that selfie. On a hot summer morning, Rosé got herself on the couch barefoot, close to the fan, as she stared at you reading this morning news, running her hands on her hair.

Rosé approaches you. "What are you waiting for?" she asks. "Why didn't you call me the last few times you were in LA?" You decide to play it tough with her. "Sorry, I was busy," she said. "And you don't think I'm busy today?" you punch back.

Rosé takes matters into her own hands, snatching your phone away as she sits on your lap, reclining her slim body onto yours. She doesn't say any words, just letting you slowly build up your uncontrollable desire for her as the flowery smell of hers invades your nostrils.

You two look at each other, pondering who's going to make the first move. You sniff Rosé's neck while she runs her hands into yours. She turns around, but you decide to play it tough, avoiding her seductive eye contact.

But Rosé has more than one way to seduce you. It's been five years since you first met, all the way back to her first performance at Coachella. She knows you can't resist her allure. She moves your hands into her body, placing them right at her erogenous zones. "I missed your touch so much, baby," she says.

"But there is something I missed much more," Rosé says shortly after, loudly unzipping your pants and reaching under them. You kiss her neck and blow a gust of wind into her ears, trying to react, but she's already far ahead, giving you a bright smile as she takes your belt completely off.

Rosé quickly brings you to your knees as she starts stroking your big cock. "Did you miss my touch?" she asks, bragging. "Ohhhh shit," is all you can say, your shaft pressed between Rosé's clothes, yours and her hand, her carefully masturbating your erection and growing bigger and bigger at each move.

You can no longer resist and pull Rosé's top to the side, showing her perky little milky tits and touching them. "Fuck," you whisper, reaching under her skirt and taking her panties off at the same time you pull her skirt down.

Rosé kisses you, taking her hands off your cock and letting you search for her tight entrance. You let out a couple moans as your dick slowly slides inside her slit. Now it's Rosé's turn to moan, holding your hand as her pussy slowly engulfs your cock. 

You dive your head into Rosé's tits as her tight walls crush your cock. In contrast to her usually bustling life in LA, Rosé is in no hurry, moving her hips at a very slow motion and warming up your cock with her sexy moves. She places her hands in her pussy and rubs her clit, following it with some caressing in your shaft. You now move into kissing her armpits and wondering how she can smell so good without any perfume, just au naturel.

Rosé increases the pace of her riding, taking your cock deeper in her pussy while she kisses you and you caress her clit. She then pauses a bit, letting you enjoy her clit as your fingers and your cock now simultaneously penetrate her pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck, your hands massage it so well," Rosé says as they stimulate her throbbing insides, and she kisses you once again. Her moans get louder, your cock digs deeper and deeper in her cunt, your hands do the same in her clit, she moves her hips, trying to answer your increasingly hotter stimulation.

Rosé's long legs shake and close as you massage her clit at full force now. "FUCKKKK, AHHHHHHH," she screams, your touch bringing her to her knees, the stimulation being so much for her that Rosé is unable to keep your cock inside her pussycat. But you don't care and just keep your hands working on her clit, proving that you can make her cum without even using your cock to do so.

You're now ready to turn the slim Aussie into your fucktoy. Your shaft is barely visible, just peeking out of your pants and then quickly disappearing in Rosé's pink pussy. She tries to resume her ride but is already too weak to continue, letting you kiss her perky tits instead. Rosé plays with her nipples as you suck them and goes back to massage her pink pussy. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhh, I can't take it; your hands are so good, fuckkkk me," she moans.

"OH FUCKKKKK," Rosé screams, as you don't even need to thrust upwards to dominate her perfect pussy, just letting your hands do all the work as they hit the Aussie slut's throbbing folds. Rosé once again can't handle your touch, squirting as your cock slides out of her cunt for a second time.

Seeing that you're easily winning the battle, Rosé changes her strategy, turning around and getting your cock back in her pussy as her panties still hang on by her thigh. She starts slow and romantically kisses you as she picks up the pace to ride your cock, pressing her nails against your suit. Her fast rides quickly turn the tide, as you're now the one hanging on for your dear life each time Rosé manages to get your shaft all the way down in her pink pussy and her hips clash against your balls.

"OH MY GOD BABY, OH MY GOD, YESSSS, KEEP DOING THAT!" you scream as Rosé's pussy bounces up and down your cock. "God damn it, you are such a good slut riding on my cock," you tell her. 

"You like it, baby?" Rosé asks with a smile on her face. She really loves to be on top of the world—well, on top of a big cock, which is basically the same for her—loving to see you struggling with her tight walls after you made the throb a couple minutes ago with that massage. "Damn it, your pussy is so tight," you say to Rosé. "And your cock is so amazing stretching it out," she replies, as you cling into her tits and suck them like a baby to save yourself from cumming.

Rosé takes what is still left of her top off, getting herself fully naked. The contrast of Rosé's goddess body with no clothes on and yours fully clothed as the morning sunlight invades the room is a sight to behold. She climbs off your body and pulls your pants down, getting on her knees to taste her juicy pussy out of your cock.

But before doing so, she teases you a bit, playing with your balls and eating your asshole while sniffing your thobbing shaft. "It smells like morning roses; it looks like I really left my mark on it," she says as she moves up to savor your balls and strokes your shaft, looking at you with naughty eyes as she performs a kissing blowjob, paying lots of attention to the tip and putting her sexy lips all over it.

"Fuck, fuck," it's all you can whisper as Rosé handles your shaft. You push her body close to yours to enjoy it as you two share more kisses; her never stop stroking that big cock, going even faster as you move into her neck and grip her ass, trying to survive her magical hands working all over that cock.

Rosé now holds your cocks with both hands, emerging as the clear winner as she arches her back and dominates you from top to bottom. Her naked butt looks absolutely perfect. You try to counter, using the same fingers that brought her pussy into submission to now dig inside her asshole. Bur Rosé quickly nullifies your attack, diving face-down straight to your cock while putting her ass up for you to look at and drool over.

"Like this, like this," you say as Rosé performs the boss-chair blowjob on you. But truth be told, she's the real boss, sucking the life out of your cock, getting especially sloppy with the tip as she spits all over it. "Yes, oh yes," you say as Rosé massages your prostate, sticking her long index finger up your butthole. She looks at you with dirty eyes, loving how your big cock is all hers to enjoy.

But you are determined to flip things around, putting Rosé in the chair as you dive to suck her tits and reaching your hands into her pink pussy. The chair rocks from side to side as you pin Rosé to it and dominate her, descending down her body and kissing it at every possible erogenous zone: her neck, her tits, her navel, her legs, and last, but not least, her amazing tight pussy.

You rest your head at Rosé's pussy, eating and sniffing it as she closes her eyes and naugtly moans. Good god, her pussy must have the best smell on earth. You never get tired of it. Even though you have known for a long time how good it tastes, each time she manages to surprise you with that amazing rose scent that quickly invades your nostrils and refuses to leave.

Rosé clenches her legs as you sniff her delicious clit. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh, please eat that pussy like that," she moans, contorting her body all over the chair, trying to resist the magical work of your tongue. You give her a little rest as Rosé gets out of breath, taking your suit off. But not for long. As soon as she gives you that sexy stare that drives you crazy, you two go back to trading kisses and working your tongues all over your mouths.

But now you want to work a different part of your body on Rosé's, getting your cock back in her pussy as you lay Rosé's light body on top of the chair, admiring her perfect bikini mark as the sunlight makes her beautiful body glow.

"Lay down," you tell Rosé, slowly pushing her body down as you touch her breasts, her moans getting sexier than ever. "Please, baby, take it deep in my pussy," Rosé begs as you start thursting once again slowly, building up the heat inside her fuckhole. The summer heat forces you to take your clothes off as you pound her hard and finger her nipples. "AHHHHHHH," Rosé screams as you choke her, your cock now bulging under her skinny belly. You stop a bit to kiss her before coming full force to pound her tight pussy.

Rosé's body gets completely pinned down to the chair as you fuck her in a mating press position. "That's so good, that's so good, you're sending me to heaven," she moans as she fingers her clit, doubling the stimulation as you hit her pussy all the way down to her cervix.

"FUCK DAMN IT!" Rosé screams as your cock stretches her tight pussy even further. You look at her eye to eye, whispering dirty words in her ear. "I'm going to put a baby in this hot Aussie womb," you tell her. "Make you look like a kangaroo when I breed that pussy," you continue.

Rosé's skin turns red as she really gets down to the idea of getting impregnated. "Please, baby, get me pregnant; I want it so much," she says as you rest your cock close to her womb.

But you're not going to do that yet, wanting to enjoy Rosé's slutty body a little more. "First, I'm going to fuck the shit out of this beautiful pussy," you tell her, spitting on her face. "AHHHHHH, PLEASE, DESTROY THAT PUSSY," she begs as you grab her body and hit her cunt full speed, groping her tits with one hand and massaging her belly with the other, feeling your cock poke under it multiple times.

You flip Rosé around as soon as she squirts a little. "I didn't tell you to cum, slut. Now arch that back and put that ass up," you demand of Rosé, who lets out a moan. "Keep going, show me how much that big fucking cock loves to fuck my pussy," she punches back. 

Rosé gets her knees on the floor as you grab her beautiful ass from behind. She looks more submissive than ever. You pull her hair and increase the pace, pounding her pussy fast, hard, and deep and enjoying the massive recoil of her ass each time your balls hit her pale cheeks.

"You're so fucking perfect," you say to Rosé. "Tell me how much you love it then, baby," she replies. "Tell me how much you fucking love fucking me," she continues. "Is that your pussy?" she asks. "It's your pussy, isn't it, baby?" she keeps asking as you keep panting, getting closer and closer to cum at each thrust inside Rosé's tight fuckhole.

"HMMMMMMMM, AHHHHHHHH," Rosé suddenly screams as you give a spank to her ass. You're going to make it red, make it red, even though she's not a member of the group who sings that song. But her ass is so great and round you can't resist; it's just the perfect spot for your big hands to hit nonstop.

Rosé clings to the chair, trying to resist the fast poundings you give her. "FUCKKKKK, OH MY GODDDDDDD," she screams as soon as you add your hands inside her asshole, your cock and your fingers competing to see who fucks each hole faster. You then grab her little waist to get a better grip of the ausie fucktoy's body. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," you groan as Rosé's walls get tighter and tighter the more you pound her pussy. "KEEP GOING, THAT'S SO GOOD, AHHHHHH, SHITTTTT," she screams again.

"Oh baby, thanks for giving me that pussy," you tell her. Rosé just fingers her pussy, getting her walls tighter and tighter and preparing to milk you dry. "How good does my pussy feel, baby? The best pussy you ever fucking had?" Rosé says. "Yes, you're so fucking hot and tight, my favorite pussy in the whole world," you answer back.

"If I'm your favorite pussy, then show me and fill it full of your cum,"  Rosé says as you give her butt another spank. These words make you go feal. You tease Rosé as you rub your shaft between her asscheeks. "That's hot, baby, getting that cock ready to cum as hard as possible," she says. "I loved rubbing it against your red, spanked, slutty Aussie ass," you reply.

You give Rosé's ass a little more claps before lifting her right leg and diving under her to eat both her holes. "I want that pussy to be super tight; grip my cock until my balls are completely drained," you say to her. "Ohhh, yes, baby, that tongue is getting it tigther than ever; eat my pussy good and I'll make that cock cum like it never did," Rosé says.

Rosé chimes in and massages your balls while standing in one leg. "I can feel the cum building up for me; it wants to breed my pussy so bad," she says. "Eat my pussy like that; get it tighter," she demands from you.

"Are you ready for it?" you ask Rosé, indirectly making a reference to one of her friends. "I'm always ready; give it to me," she says. 

You search for Rosé's entrance to put your cock in her pussy for one final time. You two have fucked for a little under 30 minutes, but it's been so hot it feels like you've been going on for 3 hours. Her pussy is so tight you struggle to even hit the hole this time. "Oh my God, it's so tight," you say.

"Ahhhhh, shit," Rosé let out a big moan as you finally manage to get inside her. "I'm ready for it; how bad do you want to cum on this tight little pussy?" she asks. "Wanna fucking pump me until you cum inside it?" she keeps saying, building up the heat. 

"Cum inside that tight little pink pussy," Rosé says in a sexy whispering voice. The more she talks, the more you get turned on. "Give me all that hot sticky load inside it, please; I love it; I want it; fill me up, please," she continues to whisper.

"Fuck fill up that pussy, fucking cum inside me right now; I want it so bad; get me pregnant now. Breed me," Rosé begs with more whispers, feeling your cock pulsating in her tight hole as you start groaning. It doesn't take long for you to pump that hot, sticky load deep into her womb. She can't believe how much cum you managed to put inside that pink pussy. "Oh my God, that was amazing," she said. "It's been a long time since someone came inside me this hard," she said.

"That was a great morning fuck session; guess I need to go now; I'm very late to work," you say. "That's too bad; I'll miss you, and especially miss your throbbing cock pumping that big load in my pussy; who knows when I'm going to get it again," Rosé says, kissing you as you put your clothes back on and drive yourself back into the insane LA traffic.

The next day is really boring. After a morning of Roses, the afternoon is just more and more stressful work, leaving you extremely tired once you arrive at home. You sleep as soon as you get home, only waking up the next day with your phone's alarm clock. You take your regular morning shower and prepare your breakfast until another message from Rosé comes out.

"Come see me again; I got three more pussies for you to breed," she texts you, with this picture attached to it.

Damn, Rosé is really amazing. You know the moment she leaves LA, you'll be counting the days for her return.