#lol how does he break it to his kid
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Ganondorf: *Absolutely exhausted*
Ganon and Farmer's daughter/Jade: *Happily riding on his shoulders and laughing*
Jade: More, Papa! More horsey!
Ganondorf: *Almost drops on one knee before forcing himself to stand back up.*
Ganondorf: What... What color pony did you want again, My Daughter?
Jade: *Happily cackles and hugs the back of her Dad's head*
Jade: A pretty one like Momma's!
Ganondorf: ...
Ganondorf: *Looks over at Dandelion the cow on the other side of the fence*
Ganondorf: Sweetie.
Ganondorf: Dandelion isn't...
#ganondorf#ganondorf/reader#ganondorf x reader#take two au#lol how does he break it to his kid#cause mom likes cowback riding like some bumkin#Ganondorf realizing how crazy this loop is#well#he is kind of putting off conquest for now#running back and forth a bit more than he did in the original timeline#spending at least a week per month with his reincarnated wife#worth noting that Jade in not Ruby's reincarnation#worth noting Ganondorf is still king of the gerudo
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ok not to be like he’s just like me fr…. but chayanne is just like me fr…..
i’m also the oldest child with one younger sibling who needed a lot more care when we were kids and therefore was deprived of certain needs in favor of my brother. i also had a parent that was missing a lot and depended almost solely on my dad. obviously tallulah needs more help than chay, with her asthma and lesser fighting skills, not to mention she had only been playing minecraft for like a month? or two before wilbur found her. and chay knows that! he knows that she needs more help than he does he knows he’ll do anything for her he knows he has to be the strongest to protect her. my brother and i are only a year apart but i was forced to grow up very very quickly bc i was on my own a lot as a kid while my brother was sick. phil doesn’t worry abt chay when he runs off bc he doesn’t need to, chay can take care of himself. hell, he took care of all the eggs when they first left. but at the same time, it’s comforting to know ur parent is looking out for u even when u don’t need it. phil’s not a smothering parent, he’s attentive, but not smothering. but let’s be real he can also be emotionally constipated LMAO but that leads to situations like the argument and frustration between chay and tallulah when dapper was kidnapped. in his defense, he’s never been a parent before and had 2 children thrust upon him to raise on his own. he didn’t have a lot of time to adjust to parenthood like ppl in real life do, he suddenly had 2 children who had their own thoughts and opinions and emotional needs, he didn’t get the time it takes to LEARN abt how to provide that specific care and while some ppl have that innate knowledge there is a lot of learning and navigating when it comes to emotional vulnerability and regulation esp when it comes to children who are figuring it out as well. i feel for chay when he thinks he needs to be the strongest. i feel for chay when he had to make the decision to gather the eggs and leave. i feel for chay when he had to take blame for bad things happening. and i feel for chay when he realized tallulah doesn’t need him as much anymore. my brother and i are both adults now and we had a …… tumultuous relationship as teenagers for reasons that were both our own and caused by problems outside our control. but i still remember exactly how devastating it was the moment i realized that he was fine on his own. that he didn’t need me anymore. and it caused a rift between us; on my end bc i was frustrated and felt tossed aside and on his end bc he NEEDED to be independent to keep growing. i see so much of myself in chay and i desperately wish he and tallulah had a better mediator for their argument, or at least someone who could truly understand why they were so upset. i don’t think phil clocked that tallulah was so upset and adamant abt looking for dapper bc it was just her dapper and ramon surviving on their own. just bc phil didn’t witness it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen and it doesn’t mean that they don’t have a much tighter relationship than they had before purgatory. and when chayanne said everyone was blaming him for the decisions he made phil was quick to tell him that no one was blaming him but also phil doesn’t know that! he doesn’t know if any blame was put on chayanne when it was just the eggs together. chayanne made the decision for the eggs to run and they trusted him bc he’s the oldest and he’s strong and he can be a leader but by running he also put the eggs thru a lot of pain and fear that they may not have gone thru if they stayed with their parents. and even if the eggs didn’t explicitly say that they blamed chayanne im sure he blamed himself for every little thing that went wrong. we’ve already seen him open up a tiny bit abt how he was questioning his decision to leave. but phil told him that chay made the best decision he could have given the information he had at the time which is true! but when ur the oldest and everyone is looking to u, all of the responsibility lies on ur shoulders. chayanne has been carrying SO much weight on his shoulders for so long it breaks my heart.
#lex.txt#qsmp chayanne#qsmp tallulah#qsmp#i have so much more i could say abt chayanne tallulah and their relationship but unfortunately ! i am not allowed to write more than this#please excuse my rambling run on sentences and lack of proper punctuation#i type the way i speak in my head and usually that means no pauses no breaks everything flows like word vomit i apologize if things#don’t make sense#i think if this was happening when i was younger i wouldn’t have all these feelings but like#my brother has a toddler that i’ve been helping raise since he was born#that is MY baby i spend the most time with him he’s the closest to me out of anyone#and i think that if i didn’t have any parenting experience i would also handle things a lot like how phil does#i think the several years of therapy have also helped with my parenting LOL#anyways i wrote this a while back and it’s been sitting in my drafts#chay is so sacrificial and i think a lot of it comes from phil putting pressure on him to be strong#he literally said he should’ve been the one to die instead of empanada!!!!! he thinks the eye attacks are his fault#i just wish he could be a kid and do the things he wants to do without worrying that he or his siblings will die#poor sweet boy :( he shouldn’t be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders but he doesn’t think he has the option not to
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anon ur so sick for sending that to me btw
#tag convo incoming#charles seeing pierre's post and fawning over how sweet it is. texting him ''i miss uuuu'' shit bc he's soft n cute like that#but then he starts like. thinking abt it. pierre w kids (who would presumably be charles' kids too bc theyre never breaking up ever etc)#and then he REALLY starts thinking about it! and how pierre gets sometimes talking abt wanting to **** *** **#and like...ok. ok. he can take care of himself he doesn't need to bother pierre abt how he feels. except....well. nobody's him.#so he facetimes pierre. starts out sweet but like pierre can see RIGHT through him. and it's just.....pierre saying the filthiest stuff#and charles is helpless to do anything but listen and touch himself n beg beg beggggg#and pierre shows up to his door the next morning and does it for real. lol
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.
#having absolutely so many thoughts rn about maegor even outside of abo being his mother's son and this is objectively a terrible thing#bcs visenya is objectively terrible and she's hot while doing it what do you want me to do about that#but anyway. thoughts of maegor feeling violently cheated out of his birthright. not rhaena not the throne. aenys.#bcs visenya's birthright was not dragonstone it was rhaenys and aegon i and maybe not aegon i's dragonseed but he was her brother too#(orys)#and so she took that too#maegor who while aenys is heir and aenys sits the throne has CONSIDERABLY less issue with the succession and considerably MORE issue with.#aenys's marriage lol. he's like her?? a mere cousin??? not even a dragonrider?? not even a TARGARYEN?? unacceptable#he's LIVID when they wed him to ceryse instead to placate him. especially because at least rhaena would be his BLOOD jesus CHRIST#he doesn't let it stand for long tho!! either aegon i bends (he does) or he breaks (he won't) and when maegor comes to him DEMANDING#what he is owed. aegon i is like idk son. dragons aren't hounds. i can hardly tie them up and deliver them at your feet.#i.e. if your dragon refuses you not even i can help you. tame him yourself.#and that's wayyyy too much permission. maegor is VISENYA'S SON. so that's all he needs to be like bet. BET.#and boom this is how in a different world maegor did not usurp rhaena/aegon the uncrowned cause aegon is actually the fruit of his womb 🤣🤣#black magic womb!! what's a little blood sacrifice and black magic to get the mount you want. what's a lit manipulation and babytrapping#and seduction. and child-brideing. and homewrecking. and also giving birth to severely fucked up kids.#tho not as fucked up as maegor himself because they're not black magic THEMSELVES the womb that carried them is. the body that bore them is#think reneesme and bella's pregnancy. yes that. except maegor can take it even while v young because he's not entirely NORMAL.#to put it simple he's more balerion than he is aegon. he's more like a dragon than a person. constitution wise. this is not a good thing.#mind u he and alyssa v have CRAZY beef. aenys named his firstborn daughter after his mother and maegor named his firstborn aegon to show off#be like 'see? i gave you a son. aren't i better?' gloating whore. nasty asshole. tsk. serves him right that alyssa v fucks him over#he wanted to name his next kid after visenya (hence the first viserys) but he and alyssa v were pregnant at the same time#and she gave birth first. and stole his whole ass name for viserys. maegor got so livid he went into premature labor AND had to be stopped#from murdering aenys for allowing that. by aegon i himself. man had to pull out all his dad cards. still a miracle tho#terribly nyra and visenya style labor after that. three days of agony. visenya and aegon i play lion parents. vhagar is being SO loud#gives birth to a daughter—severely premature but big enough to pass for a small full term baby. she's smaller than aegon was but she's fiery#bruised by the labor but has maegor's eyes (visenya's eyes) and aenys's curly hair which is more cold than silver—like rhaenys's was#and maegor decides that if alyssa v stole his thunder for her first son then he shall steal hers for his first daughter. names her lysarra.#after alarra massey aka alyssa's mother. and then he's like NOW I'm good. moving on!! look brother a daughter 🥰 a bride for your son 🥰🥰#and meanwhile aenys is about to have a mental BREAK because maegor was only a little over halfway along and they were supposed to have TIME
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There’s something weirdly nice about finding out you’re not the only person who dislikes someone. It’s such a relief to be able to be like “okay thank God I can bitch about this person now”
#was (gently) complaining to my grandparents about two of my neighbours (who happen to be best friends with my mom and my stepdad)#and my granddad said ‘to be honest i’m fairly neutral about j [the woman] but i’ve never liked r [her husband]’#and i was like ‘oh thank GOD’#and just started airing my grievances#to be honest it was a fairly safe bet though because my grandma likes approximately two people in the world and those are me and mabel#and my granddad has a world class bullshit detector. he’s kind of like me in that he’s mild-mannered and will be civil to people#he doesn’t like; but he will avoid having to be around them at all costs#so i kind of knew that he wouldn’t like these people#like R is genuinely awful. he’s one of the most obnoxious people i’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting. he’s in his late sixties#but behaves like a twelve year old boy. it’s absolutely horrendous. he’s rude to wait staff; tries to guilt me into hugging him#(i never have and never will); is constantly breaking his laptop and acting like an absolute baby when he has to request tech support#(i did tech support for him ONCE and thereafter i’ve been pretending to be illiterate); and he bullies people in his hobby#just generally not a good man. the One thing i somewhat like about him is he’s nice to animals#kim and freddie both loved him and he was surprisingly really gentle and patient with them. mabel also seems to like him#but she loves big men so that was sort of a given#meanwhile J is just… she’s also obnoxious but not to the same level. but she does annoy the hell out of me#we’re both knitters but we have a completely different approach to the hobby (which honestly isn’t surprising because like.. i challenge you#to find two knitters who do the same things lol) and she feels the need to belittle a lot of what i do#like my love of knitting in the round; my complete inability to get the hang of embroidery; how slow i knit; etc.#she knits exclusively on long straight needles; lightning fast; and she makes mostly stuffed animals and dolls for kids#which i think is fantastic! it’s really difficult imo. i made literally one chicken and getting all its features right took so much#out of me that i’ve never made an animal since. partly because i really dislike sewing and embroidery honestly#she sees these things as a personal failure on my part and she’s also kind of derisive of how slow i knit which….. it’s not a race??#i don’t sell stuff on the craft booths like she does so i’m not bound to a deadline. 90% of what i make is a gift and the other 10%#is stuff for me that i thought would be cool. or i just wanted to learn a technique. and i’m primarily a process knitter anyway#i do it to help me focus on tv or podcasts because otherwise i just Cannot#… this became a rant i wasn’t intending to have. suffice to say; i don’t like my mom’s friends lol#it’s not anyone’s fault. they’re just loud and obnoxious and give me opinions i never asked for#personal
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They're either
A.) Royalty
B.) Traumatized beyond repair
C.) Have died at least once
Or D.) All of the above.
#im not kidding#seriously boy dies and my oc X goes feral bc they're his parent#and an assassin#if we're talking fandom ocs...#Chip (TWST) has survivors guilt after losing his older sister and brother to an earthquake after they saved him#Suki (Genshin) watched his best friend (Raiden Makoto) die because he couldn't save her because he didnt know how to fight#if we're talking DND#Ayre (Eladrin) is an orphan whose adoptive father left him (how he sees it anyway#Bird is a six year old fairy whose mother abandoned her and watched the village that took her in be slaughtered by bandits#Ragnar probably has it best#hes a high ranking general in a royal army#and he's stupidly in love with the prince he acts as a personal guard for#the prince loves him back lol#then theres Paradox#oh buddy has it rough#lmao man cant catch a break#thinks he's dead#caught in a hellish purgatory place unable to move or or turn into the creatures that most others turn into#cant get close to anyone who does show up because 1 of 3 things happen always#1. he helps them find their way back to the living#2. they turn into one of the creatures that roam this place#or 3. they beg for him to kill them before they can turn into those creatures#mans lonely
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"Boys don't cry"
He's heard those words ever since he was a little kid. The people around him always told him how he needed to be a "big boy", and big boys never cry.
He didn't cry when he scraped his knee on the slide. He didn't cry when he got his first failling grade. He didn't cry when things went badly in his life. He was sure his tear glands weren't even working at this point.
He never cries. He's a big boy. Big boys don't cry.
So why does he feel his cheeks wet when he sees you dressed in white?
Why does he feel like breaking down into tears while you make your way to the altar, smile radiant as ever and holding a big, pretty flower bouquet?
Why does he keep blinking his eyes as you approach him and link your hands with his? And why is his vision getting blurred when he realized you were soon to share the same last name?
It then dawned on him.
He wasn't a boy. He wasn't a big boy, either. He was a man.
And when the priest finally says: "You may kiss the bride" and he finally lets the tears fall freely as your mouths get closer, he realized he learned something today.
Boys don't cry, but men do.
And he was a man. Your man. And he would gladly cry in front of the whole world if it meant keeping that title.
TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kunigami Rensuke, REO MIKAGE (even tho he cried when Nagi left him lol), SENDOU SHUTO, Rin Itoshi, Megumi Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, ATSUMU MIYA, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, Oikawa Tooru, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, Kuroo Tetsuro, Ushijima Wakatoshi, KITA SHINSUKE + your favs!
Masterlist
#blue lock#bllk#bllk manga#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#todoroki x reader#bakugou x reader#kunigami x reader#reo x reader#megumi x reader#sendou x reader#atsumu x reader#kageyama x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#kuroo x reader#ushijima x reader#haikyuu x reader#mha x reader#my hero academia x reader#kita x reader
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charles and his childhood best friend but he's secretly in love with her pretty please
childhood friends to lovers is my favorite trope 🥺 i hope you like this
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 102,625 others
yourinstagram perks of your best friend being a formula one driver: you get to travel to cool places to see him work
📸 by my love @boyfriendsusername
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charlesfan1 the most beloved non wag is coming
charlesfan2 “📸by my love” charles was found fuming
↳ charlesfan3 no bc he refuses to admit he’s in love with her (we all know it)
lilymhe i can’t wait to see you 💗 ♥︎ by author
charlesfan3 is her boyfriend going to the gp?? bc is he is we’re getting pissed off charles again lol
↳ charlesfan2 brazil gp flashbacks 😭
landonorris Don’t forget about me and come say hi ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram will do landoeeee 🫡
↳ landofan1 love this duo
charlesfan4 why does she have to take her boyfriend? 😫 actually can she break up with him and just get with charles ?
↳ charlesfan1 you guys are so disrespectful sometimes, they’ve been best friends since forever you shouldn’t be projecting a relationship between them when there isn’t
boyfriendsusername 😍😍 ♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc About time, I miss you a lot ❤️
↳ charlesfan2 MARRY HER
↳ yourinstagram same hereeeee
↳ charlesfan3 she replied to charles’ comment but not to her boyfriend’s. see? she’s in love with him
liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 114,824 others
yourinstagram cooking breakfast because running over my ex with a truck is not the right thing to do
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charlesfan1 PAUSE. SHE BROKE UP WITH THAT DUDE??
charlesfan2 okay sucks for her but i bet charles is jumping up and down 😭
francisca.cgomes It’s his loss 💗 Ilysm ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 she’s so loved along the wags she just needs to become a wag herself
carlossainz55 Sending you a big hug, nena ♥︎ by author
↳ carlosfan1 carlos what are you doing here charles would have your head if you ever try something with her
charlesfan3 ITS TIME FOR YN AND CHARLESSSSS LOVE STORY
charlesfan4 it’s kinda insensitive that you guys celebrate that she broke up with her boyfriend and the comments about how she should get with charles… she’s a human being who just had a breakup and charles is literally her best friend and nothing more
charles_leclerc I don’t think it’s a wrong thing to do. Actually, I can run over him with my Ferrari if you want, I know a thing or two about driving cars at a really fast speed 🤷 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES WTF 😭
↳ charlesfan2 HE HAS NO CHILL
↳ charlesfan3 we knew he always hated him
↳ yourinstagram 😂😂 love you, charlie
liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,002,367 others
charles_leclerc When your best friend is obssesed with all things aesthetic
view all 15,044 comments
charlesfan1 LOVE OF MY LIFE
charlesfan2 he’s really the hottest man alive
landonorris Can she be my best friend too?
↳ charles_leclerc No
↳ charlesfan1 😭😭😭
leclerc_pascale ❤️
charlesfan3 he looks so boyfriend so i think he should be yn’s boyfriend
yourinstagram you look cute through my lens 🥲
↳ charles_leclerc I always look cute what do you mean
↳ charlesfan1 stop flirting in front of us
liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 34,836 others
f1gossip Charles Leclerc and YN out in Monaco tonight
view all 2,088 comments
charlesfan1 BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND
charlesfan2 they’re both so pretty. they would make the hottest couple on the grid
charlesfan3 why don’t they just get together ffs 😭
↳ charlesfan1 streets say (and ny street i mean people from monaco) that charles has been smitten over her since they were kids but she always dated other guys
↳ charlesfan2 this must be true like we’ve seen it
charlesfan4 something in the air is shifting people maybe they’re finally confessing that they’re in love with each other lol
↳ charlesfan1 LETTUCE PRAY
charlesfan5 why is this comment section full of weirdos they’re FRIENDS
↳ charlesfan2 stfuuuu
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 120,725 others
yourinstagram back on my tifosi era ❤️
view all 5,033 comments
charlesfan1 YEEEEES
charlesfan2 imagine being charles’ best friend and traveling with him for races
↳ charlesfan1 babe that’s not his best friend that’s the love of his life
lilymhe IT WAS SO GOOD TO FINALLY SEE YOU ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram i literally LOVE you 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 just become a wag already
charlesfan3 see charles was all smiles today because her (ex)boyfriend no longer tags along
landonorris When will the two of you confess to each other
↳ landofan1 LANDO😳
↳ charlesfan1 WTF IS HE CALLING HIM OUT
↳ yourinstagram you’re so weird i never know what you’re talking about
↳ charlesfan2 of course yn is playing dumb
↳ charles_leclerc ???
↳ charlesfan3 PLEASE 😭
charles_leclerc I look weird in that pic :(
↳ yourinstagram you look cuuuute
↳ charlesfan2 KISS KISS
liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 250,388 others
yourinstagram i’ve known and loved this one since he was this little. growing up, we talked about what he would become countless of times, and in every single conversation i told him that he was going to achieve every single one of his dreams. today he drives the monaco circuit for the 6th time, and i know this year will be his year and monaco will finally love him back 🏆
love you beyond words @charles_leclerc ❤️
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charlesfan1 AWEEEE
charlesfan2 THIS IS ADORABLE I CANT
leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram tysm for the picture 🥺
charlesfan3 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY
landonorris Little Charles Leclerc
scuderiaferarri FORZA CHARLES ! 👏
charlesfan4 CANT YALL SEE THEYRE MEANT TO BE ???
↳ charlesfan1 the thing is we all can see it but they just can’t
charlesfan5 seriously if this ain’t love then what is
f1gossip Charles and YN’s romantic relationship will be confirmed any minute now
↳ charlesfan2 WHAT DO YOU KNOW
↳ charlesfan3 SPILL THE DEETS
charles_leclerc Thank you for being my biggest supporter and never leaving my side. I love you so much 🤍 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 STFU STFU
↳ charlesfan2 YN WAKE UP
liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 3,436,137 others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for everything, I love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍
view all 43,826 comments
charlesfan1 PRINCE OF MONACO DID IT
schecoperez Bravo Charles! 👏
charlesfan2 IM STILL CRYING
oscarpiastri Congrats bro 👊
pierregasly Bravo Champ!! Trop content pour toi!! ❤️
georgerussell63 Congrats mate !!
charlesfan3 HE DID IT FINALLY
charlesfan4 IVE BEEN CRYING FOR HOURS NOW
scuderiaferrari Bravo Charles !! So proud ❤️
yourinstagram im so proud of you, words are not enough. this was your dream and you achieve it, i love you so much
↳ charlesfan1 AHHHHH
↳ charlesfan2 ADDRESS THE RUMORS WE LITERALLY SAW YOU KISSING
↳ charlesfan3 JUST GET MARRIED
liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 376,956 others
yourinstagram when we were 15 i told him that i would be his girlfriend the day he won the monaco grand prix. i guess it's time 🤍
view all 15,875 comments
charlesfan1 AHHHHHH
charlesfan2 JSDJOEHYSIJON I CANT BELIEVE THIS
francisca.cgomes 🥹🥹🥹🥹
charlesfan3 OMFG HOW IS THIS REAL
arthur_leclerc Finally ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 ARTHUR 😭😭😭😭
↳ charlesfan2 even their families were rooting for them I CANT
scuderiaferrari ❤️
charlesfan4 WE WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG
charlesfan5 THIS HAS BEEN THE MOST PERFECT WEEKEND EVER
carlossainz55 👏👏👏
charlesfan6 they were always meant to be but they were too stubborn to see it
landonorris I LOVE LOVE ❤️
↳ landofan1 PLEASEEEEE
charlesfan7 they have been in love for YEARS i cannot
charlesfan8 THIS MOMENT WAS LITERALLY PERFECT
charles_leclerc I’ve waited my whole life for this moment 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 IM CRYING AGAIN
↳ charlesfan2 CHARLIE DONT DO THIS
↳ charlesfan3 they’re so invisible string coded
↳ charlesfan4 MY FAVORITE LOVE STORY EVER
↳ yourinstagram 🥺🥺❤️
liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 3,574,037 others
charles_leclerc Lucky I’m in love with my best friend ❤️
view all 44,399 comments
charlesfan1 AND IM CRYING AGAIN
charlesfan2 THIS IS PERFECT
pierregasly Adorable 🙌
charlesfan3 HANG THIS PICTURE IN THE LOUVRE
charlesfan4 SOBBING SO BADLY RN
instagram 🥺
scuderiaferrari ❤️
charlesfan5 every single soul was rooting for this relationship fr
charlesfan6 I LOVE THEM SM
charlesfan7 childhood friends to lovers 🥹
yourinstagram i love you so much 💗💗
↳ charlesfan1 took you decades to find out but it’s okay girl
↳ charlesfan2 i can’t get enough of this relationship
↳ charlesfan3 YOU FINALLY REALIZED
#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc fake instagram#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc fanfiction#harrysfolklore#f1 x reader#charles leclerc smut#monaco gp 2024#f1 grid x reader#1k#2k
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need overblot boys with epel, and floyd with a reader that randomly lore drops as if they're an old dad like "yeah lol my old school had a shooting once....anyways *SNOREE*" and when asked they just agree and walk away and never elaborate whatsoever💀 if you feel uncomfortable feel free to delete or ignore‼️love ya pookie💥
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reader with a backstory
I got u 🫡🫡
summary: wacky reader lore type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
you find new ways to raise Riddle's blood pressure every day
little guy is worried enough as it is
you've already got your school work, taking care of Ramshackle, taking care of Grim, taking care of all the other freshmen, taking care of-
well... you get it
the last thing he needs is to hear another one of your stories
"oh, yeah, that's like the time I got stabbed"
"????? WHAT??"
what's entertaining to you and ADeuce is mortifying to Riddle
if you're not careful you'll end up sleeping on the floor in his room
where he can keep a close eye on you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
you're like Leona's little court jester
and he takes you with him everywhere
it's not easy to get a genuine laugh out of him, after all
besides, what's so bad about a little dark humor? it's not like you died or anything
he knows you're a resilient little thing
and you seem to love telling him about "that time you crawled into a drainage pipe", anyway
you make him laugh; he likes you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul indulges you
his white noise machine stopped working last month and you make for excellent background ambience
so, he lets you talk yourself in circles about your school work, your friends, Grim, Grim again
and then you drop the most HEINOUS bombshells in the middle
"blah blah blah Grim, blah blah Crowley, blah blah, that one time I got lost in the woods for a day, blah blah-"
he loses his train of thought every time
now, Floyd is the complete opposite
he will hyperfocus on the most mundane details
and ignore the bombshells
will give you an, "oh, that's cool" to your ghost story but will find you the pair of socks you mentioned liking three months ago
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil is just fascinated by you
you as a person, of course
but also the fact that you're still alive
one night, he's explaining the reason he makes all of Kalim's food and you're like
"oh, yeah, I get it. I got mold poisoning once and hallucinated for a week"
?????
then you go right back to asking him about the recipe
sitting on the counter, as happy as could be
"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!!!"
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is used to this
he knows that look on your face
he will shush you with a finger to your lips before you even start
"don't tell me, I'm stressed enough as it is"
he's going to break out if you keep at it
he finds you quite... macabre
which is entertaining until he sees you going down a flight of stairs without holding onto the railing and remembers all those stories you'd told him
he's just... concerned for you, that's all
and he does NOT appreciate Epel for encouraging it
"tell us more about the time you fell down that hill into that pile of rocks, Prefect!"
:D
like a kid in a candy store
learning new Lore is like the highlight of his week
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
"talk about having a high luck stat..."
Idia is more entertained than anything
he thought these kinds of things only happened in anime, but...
...there you are
it sounds like you experience more in a single month than he has in his whole life
and you know what?
GOOD
you can keep your freaky real-world experiences!
he'll just live vicariously through you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
poor Malleus
he's been putting so much effort into learning and blending with human culture, and now here you are with your terrifying stories
you tell him in such earnest, too
you seem so... unbothered by it
perhaps humans are less fragile than he thought?
of course, he shouldn't have underestimated you in the first place :)!
then you come over for dinner one night
"hahah, yeah, last time I was at someone's house their grandma threw a lamp at my head and I got a concussion"
Silver and Sebek both go >_>
Lilia goes <_<
and then Malleus is there like, "ah, another fascinating tale :)"
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Yall imagine a batfam vlogger au.
Like Steph just posts videos of her and the batfam dicking around and posts it to YouTube. She doesn’t have a set schedule or anything but because she includes the Wayne’s in the thumbnail/title she gets picked up by the algorithm and blows up.
Sometimes she’ll post all of them having a pool day and edit Bruce as a lifeguard every time he yells “no running!” Or she used Bruce’s credit card to buy a mermaid tail and does a whole h2o bit. Just them having fun.
They get a whole bunch of edits like “Dick fixing his hair for x mins straight” or “Alfred being a mom for x mins straight” or “Steph and Cass being girlfriends for x mins straight” etc.
But then lo and behold Bruce goes missing as Batman. They put a community post up saying that they’re going to stop posting indefinitely as they grieve. During this time, there’s a whole new genre of edits/compilations of Bruce being good dad, some of his sillier moments. And it’s really comforting for the batfam.
And then Breaking News!! Bruce Wayne has been found and is alive! And then it becomes a meme of “I can’t wait for Steph’s new vlog to come out.” And sure enough a couple weeks later Steph posts a vlog titled “he lived bitch.” That goes viral.
It opens with the kids singing “the dad came back the very next day. The dad came back, we thought he was a goner!” As Bruce eats his breakfast trying to act annoyed. There’s just a lot of memes and jokes about it because that’s how they cope lol.
#batman#dc comics#batman comics#dc#batfam#batfamily#batman dc#comics#the batfam#the batfamily#batfam headcanons#batfam au#stephanie brown#bruce wayne#bruce wayne is a good dad#bruce wayne is a good parent#good parent bruce wayne#good dad bruce wayne#Spicy’s thoughts
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age gap | daniel ricciardo social media au
pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem reader
you are an influencer who starts dating older f1 driver daniel ricciardo
masterlist
y/n.user
liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 567,930 others
caption: my life since the rumours
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yourbff1: the rumours are kinda funny tho
y/n.user: yeah.. "rumours"
user73: DOES THIS MEAN THAT THE RUMOURS ARE TRUE?
user62: what rumours?!
danielricciardo: xx
user83: daniel?
user2: wait... the rumours are that he and y/n are dating, right?
user74: yeah
daniel.jpg
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 123,938 others
caption: rumours confirmed
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maxverstappen1: this is how i get to know your girlfriend?
daniel.jpg: sorryy maximilian
landonorris: isn't she too young? you old man
daniel.jpg: she has an old soul
y/n.user: DANIEL
landonorris: hey y/n. I'm lando btw
y/n.user: hey lando
user73: omg they are actually so cute together
user46: lmao she's just using him
user9: weird
user525: she's still a child omg
y/n.user: oh I wish. But thanks for compliment that I look young
user3: she slayed
landonorris
liked by danielricciardo, y/n.user and 567,939 others
caption: if you go out with daniel and y/n, be prepared for daniel carrying her around...
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danielricciardo: she's always tired.. not my fault
y/n.user: ME? u always want to carry me
danielricciardo: not true
y/n.user: I'm done with you
landonorris: first couple fight?
danielricciardo: yeah..
user66: I'm starting to like them together
y/n.user: good taste
user3: idk but it's still weird
user2: she's so young
y/n.user: no wayyy
yourbff1: they are so cute
y/n.user: <3
y/n.user
liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 1,839,378 others
caption: I bought daniel new t-shirts so he can wear them to the paddock (haters will love these)
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landonorris: poor danny boy
danielricciardo: I actually love them
maxverstappen1: no way
y/n.user: @ kellypiquet Kelly buy some t-shirt for max too. Atleast he doesn't have to repeat outfits
user63: poor daniel.. she's manipulating him
danielricciardo: I literally picked those t-shirts
user73: daniel and y/n are the best couple. Argue with the wall
yourbff3: omg i love you for this babe
y/n.user: I ate
user77: u did!
y/n.user
liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 578,838 others
caption: enjoyed my first gp, and now it's summer break
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user83: most hated but the best couple award goes to... y/n and daniel
y/n.user: thanks I guess
danielricciardo: our shoey was 🔥
y/n.user: hell yeah
landonorris: what about me and you daniel? :(
danielricciardo: sorry lando
maxverstappen1: why is daniel acting like a teenager again
y/n.user: cause I changed him
user38: you really did
user3: I love this new version of danny
y/n.user: me too
danielricciardo
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 673,939 others
caption: enjoying summer break with the best people. y/n can drink!! I'm not serving alcohol to minors
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user83: daniel and his humour lol
y/n.user: baby u know that I can drink for a long time right?
danielricciardo: uhm of course
landonorris: he probably forgot your birthday
user63: yall stop hating and be happy for them
maxverstappen1: u kidnapped child?
danielricciardo: that's my nephew u idiot
maxverstappen1: oh sorry
y/n.user
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 345,388 others
caption: I want to have kids. Look at my man. He's so girl dad coded
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user73: uhm does she know that this is public account?
danielricciardo: Y/N?!
maxverstappen1: lol
maxverstappen1: @ danielricciardo u have a lot of work to do
danielricciardo: mate, kelly wants another kid too so shut up
user3: omg danny ric kid?
y/n.user: I hope
BONUS:
#f1#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula one#formula one smau#formula one x reader#daniel ricciardo#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x female reader#daniel ricciardo x max verstappen#max verstappen#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula one x you#red bull racing#dr3#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo smut#x yn#formula 1 smau#alternative#alternative universe#lando norris
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Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching
(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)
Secret Lovers
Severus Snape x Professor! Reader
Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry
A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3
You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.
Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!
So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.
You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.
You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.
When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.
Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.
“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.
“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.
“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.
“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.
Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.
“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.
“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.
“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”
After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.
“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.
“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.
“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.
“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.
Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.
“Alright, alright!” She sighed.
They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.
They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.
“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.
Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.
“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.
“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”
“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”
Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.
Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”
They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.
“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.
“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.
“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.
“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.
“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.
They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!
Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.
"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.
You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.
Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.
"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.
"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"
"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.
"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.
Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.
You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."
#severus snape x reader#pro snape#professor snape#severus snape#snape#snape fandom#snapedom#snape x you#snape x reader#snape x y/n#severus x you#severus x reader#severus x y/n
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a fic where kook readers hates the idea of Rafe x Sofia and gets irritated seeing them together and at a party Rafe confronts her and tells her that they’re just hooking up and if she’s jealous. Please and thank you 🙏
Standards || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
gif by @giorgiawingham
A/n: yeah I’m not on break really since I’m posting lol
Warnings: angst, r is mean in the beginning mb just doing the request!! Stereotypical kook bitchy r 😛
Word count: 1,518
MASTERLIST
The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the country club as you sat with Topper on the patio, sipping on a cold drink and letting the soft hum of conversation fill the air. It was a calm afternoon, typical of this place, where everyone dressed to impress and mingled like it was their job.
But the tranquillity was short-lived. Your eyes drifted towards the entrance, and the moment you saw them, your jaw tightened. Rafe Cameron, tall, smug, and all too comfortable, had his arm draped lazily over Sofia’s shoulder, his signature smirk plastered on his face. The sight of them together made your stomach churn, irritation bubbling up inside you
She was laughing, her hand clutching his forearm as she leaned into him like they were the perfect couple. Your stomach twisted, a bitter taste creeping up your throat as you watched them, Sofia all smiles and Rafe looking way too content for your liking. He looked different—softer, like he had let his guard down.
“Look at him,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing as you followed their movements across the room. Rafe’s arm was slung lazily around Sofia’s shoulders, her face lit up with a grin that looked almost rehearsed, like she knew eyes were on her. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms with a sharp scoff. “Our Kook king has completely gone soft, Topper.”
Topper barely glanced up from his phone, but when he finally did, the disdain in his expression mirrored yours perfectly. His lips twisted into a dark chuckle, shaking his head as his gaze flicked toward Rafe and Sofia. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said, voice dripping with judgement. “Rafe with her? Didn’t think he’d sink that low.”
The two of you shared a bitter laugh, finding some perverse satisfaction in tearing them down. It was easy—too easy, really. Sofia had a reputation, and not a good one. She was known for trying too hard to fit into the kook elite, always clinging to the right crowd, desperate to belong somewhere. But she didn’t. Not here. And certainly not with Rafe. The thought of them together made your skin crawl.
“He’s slipping,” Topper muttered, his voice full of judgement for his friend. “Rafe used to have standards.” “Right?” You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your distaste. The sight of Rafe with Sofia made your chest tighten, the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. “It’s pathetic. She’s pathetic.” Topper snorted, this time putting his phone down, his full attention on the scene playing out across the room.
“She’s just desperate for attention,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “She’ll cling to anyone with money to fit in. It’s kinda sad, actually.” You nodded, your eyes still glued to them, unable to look away from the trainwreck. Sofia didn’t belong here, not with Rafe, not anywhere near him, if you were being honest with yourself. “Exactly,” you agreed, feeling the annoyance simmering just below the surface.
“She’s not even his type. I don’t get what he’s doing with her.” Topper snorted. “He’ll get bored and it’s probably just a phase,” Topper said with a shrug. “Rafe always does get bored, you know that.” You were about to respond, maybe throw in another biting remark about Sofia’s lack of style or how obvious she was being, when you noticed them heading straight toward your table.
Sofia had that too-bright smile plastered on her face, and Rafe—well, Rafe looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much, knowing full well that his presence was getting under your skin.“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sitting up straighter, preparing yourself for the inevitable. Rafe reached your table first, smirking down at you, his arm still casually draped over Sofia’s shoulder like she was an accessory.
“Hey,” he drawled, eyes flicking between you and Topper, clearly amused by the tension in the air. Sofia waved, her smile way too forced for your liking.“Hey!” she chirped, like she wasn’t fully aware of how much you couldn’t stand her. You shot them both a withering look, barely able to mask your irritation. “Rafe. Sofia.” He raised an eyebrow at your tone, but before he could say anything, you rolled your eyes and stood up.
The last thing you wanted was to play nice. “I’m out of here,” you muttered, pushing your chair back and walking away without another word, leaving them standing there awkwardly. Later that evening, the frustration still lingered as you found yourself at Topper’s party. The house was packed with familiar faces, music thumping from the speakers as the evening buzzed with energy.
You needed a break, something to clear your mind, so you stepped outside onto the back patio where the cool breeze offered a moment of peace. You didn’t expect to be alone for long. You heard footsteps approaching, and when you turned, Rafe was there, leaning casually against the railing, his expression unreadable.
You shot him a glance, not entirely in the mood for whatever he had to say. “We’re not together, you know. Sofia and I,” he said, his voice breaking the silence between you. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you stared him down. “Could’ve fooled me,” you said coolly. Rafe shrugged, pushing his hands into his pockets, his gaze not leaving yours.
“We’re just hooking up. That’s it.” You scoffed, turning away slightly. “Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I don’t know why you think I care.” Your words came out sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The tension between you and Rafe had been simmering for weeks, and his smug expression was doing nothing to ease the frustration building inside you.
Rafe’s lips curled into that infuriating smirk, and he took a slow step closer, his body language dripping with confidence. “You make it pretty fucking obvious, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, and despite your better judgment, you found yourself biting down on your bottom lip. He’d always had a way of getting under your skin, of knowing exactly how to push your buttons, and right now, he was doing it with ease.
You didn’t respond, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But Rafe could see the way your body tensed, the way your eyes flicked away from his for just a second, betraying more than you wanted to admit. “Why, are you jealous?” His voice was still laced with that cocky edge, but there was something more in his eyes—something that made your pulse quicken. It wasn’t just teasing anymore; it was a challenge, daring you to deny it. You scoffed, forcing a laugh that felt hollow, even to you. “Please. You wish.”
He chuckled softly, the sound rolling off his tongue, as if he knew exactly what game you were playing. Shaking his head, Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his gaze never leaving yours. “I have standards,” he said, his voice dropping lower, more serious now. “You know I wouldn’t actually get with a freakin’ pogue.”
“Yeah, well these days, Rafe,” you muttered, your voice laced with frustration, “I don’t even know you.” His smirk faltered for a second, something flickering behind his eyes. For just a moment, it was like you had struck a nerve, like maybe he didn’t know how to respond to that. “You don’t know me?” he echoed, his tone softer, but still challenging.
You took a breath, standing your ground. “Not anymore.” Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your words had gotten under his skin more than he wanted to let on. “Sofia’s just fun for now. She’s not permanent.” His tone was dismissive, almost like he was convincing himself as much as you. There was an edge to his words, like he was trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze—intense, lingering—told a different story.
You couldn’t help the way his words made your heart beat a little faster, though you tried to ignore it. He was playing some kind of game, you were sure of it. A game where the lines between teasing and something deeper blurred just enough to make you question everything. It was maddening. “Whatever you say, Rafe,” you muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of a real response.
You turned to leave, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away, the tension between you thick enough to cut. But even as you left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than either of you had said aloud. Something unspoken lingered in the air, hanging heavy between you.
The way he’d looked at you—challenging, almost daring—stayed with you, creeping into the corners of your thoughts long after you’d stepped away. You wondered, against your better judgment, if maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one feeling something more. Something deeper. Something neither of you were ready to admit, but that was quietly pulling you both in.
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron season 4#obx 4#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe x sofia#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#outerbanks#outer banks x reader#rafe outer banks#drew starkey x you
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young & stupid
yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)
you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.
genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol
Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.
Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.
So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.
But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.
“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”
“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”
You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”
This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.
“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”
“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”
You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.
“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”
You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?
And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.
You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.
You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.
You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”
He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.
“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”
You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.
He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”
And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.
It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.
“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.
“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“
You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.
“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”
Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.
“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”
You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.
That fucker.
“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.
Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”
“That was their third time asking me out.”
“And?”
“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”
“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”
He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”
You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.
“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”
“East campus. The Austin Complex.”
He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”
You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”
“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”
“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”
He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.
“Are you crazy?”
“Most people don’t think so.”
“People will honk.”
“It’s 1 am.”
You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.
“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”
He passes the light just as it turns red.
—
You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.
And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.
You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”
“Payback.”
You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Did you say that outloud?
“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”
You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”
“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”
“Lubinsky.”
Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”
“His quizzes are impossible.”
“Yeah, but he’s funny.”
You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”
He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”
“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.
“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”
You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”
He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”
You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.
Goddamn it–those eyes.
You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”
“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”
“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”
“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”
You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…
Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.
—
As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.
“Do it again.”
“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”
He points to your worksheet. “One more.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I thought you wanted an A.”
“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”
“Just do it.”
You groan and set up another integral.
To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.
Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.
You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”
“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“
You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”
Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.
He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.
“So can we take a break now?”
He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”
You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.
“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”
“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”
“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”
You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”
He cocks his head. “No?”
You shake yours. “No.”
“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”
“How come you haven’t asked?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.
You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”
“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.
“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”
“So why’d you date him then?”
For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.
The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”
He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”
Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”
He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”
Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”
His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)
“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”
You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”
He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.
—
You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.
You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.
“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”
You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”
“If we kissed?”
“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”
“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”
You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.
“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”
“Probably?” You echo.
“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.
You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”
He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?
“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”
And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”
He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.
“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.
And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?
Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.
“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”
You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”
He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.
He points to your cup. “Shot?”
You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”
—
Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.
—
The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.
“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”
“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)
“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”
You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”
Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.
“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.
“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”
Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.
“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”
Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”
You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”
“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.
They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”
“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”
Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”
Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.
“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”
The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”
Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”
You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”
Joshua leans towards you. “What?”
You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.
The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.
“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”
You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”
He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”
Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”
Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”
“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.
Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”
You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”
“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”
“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”
Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”
Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?
Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.
The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.
The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.
And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.
—
Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.
There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.
Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.
You swallow.
“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”
Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?
Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.
You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”
“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”
“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”
You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”
His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“It could be.”
Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.
“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.
“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.
Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”
“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”
And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.
Your phone buzzes.
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally
Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s
You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?
Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place
You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb
You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast
You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right
Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD
An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.
By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”
He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”
“Mine? Why?”
“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”
“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”
He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”
You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”
He burps. “Because of me?”
The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”
“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”
You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”
He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”
“And the occasion was…?”
He looks you dead in the eye.
“You make me nervous.”
Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.
Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.
He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.
“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.
He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”
“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.
“But I’m really sorry.”
“And I really don’t mind.”
He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”
You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”
He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.
You mumble back a ‘thanks’.
“So, what’d you think of the game?”
You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.
“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”
“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”
You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”
“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”
“Which assignment? The chem lab?”
You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”
“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”
“Okay, you’re drunk.”
“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”
Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.
“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”
“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.
“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”
Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”
“Did you just cringe?”
“–you smell like vomit.”
“Well, do you have clothes for me?”
“No, but I have a couch.”
He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”
—
(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.
You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)
—
When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.
As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?
Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.
“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”
“Date?”
“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.
“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”
“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”
You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.
The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.
“Come on, they’re so cute.”
“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”
“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”
“Good thing we’re not one.”
“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”
You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.
—
“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”
And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.
“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.
“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”
“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.
You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”
He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”
And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.
“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”
“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”
His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”
“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.
You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.
You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”
“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”
You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”
“Other than Soonyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”
You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”
He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”
“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”
He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”
You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”
He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.
He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”
His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”
“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”
He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”
You squint at him. “Why?”
And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”
Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”
He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”
“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”
The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”
“I thought you hated the ocean.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”
You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.
“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.
Did that just happen?
Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.
He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”
He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.
And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.
—
The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.
“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.
“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”
“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.
“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”
“Yeah, but the game was fun.”
“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.
“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”
That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.
Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”
“Like what?”
“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”
“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.
You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.
“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”
This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”
But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.
Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”
After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.
He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”
“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”
Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?”
You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”
He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”
Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.
“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.
It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”
You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.
“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”
“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”
You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”
They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.
“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”
“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”
“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”
You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”
You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.
You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.
“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.
You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”
“What kind of rule is that?”
“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”
You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”
He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.
The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.
“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”
He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”
You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”
He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”
You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”
He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”
You kiss him.
You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.
He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.
A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”
“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.
1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.
2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.
3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?
4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?
5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.
6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”
7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”
8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”
9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”
10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.
11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.
12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”
13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”
14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”
15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?
16! Please, you want to beg, say something.
17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”
18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.
The rest of the numbers blur in your head.
—
(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.
“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”
The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)
—
You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.
By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.
You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.
—
You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.
By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.
Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”
You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”
“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”
“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”
You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”
“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”
You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.
You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.
Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.
“Seungcheol called me.”
His face twitches. “Why?”
“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”
He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”
You nod.
He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.
You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”
He nods.
“Do you want a ride back?
He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How would you get back to yours?”
“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”
The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”
“For what?”
“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”
He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”
He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“I’ll drop you home.”
You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.
Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”
“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy fucking shit.
He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”
You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”
He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”
You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I don’t think–”
“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”
He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.
He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.
You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.
You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.
Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”
You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”
“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”
You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.
And you can’t help it, you grin.
You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”
“I told you to–”
“I know what you said.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”
“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”
You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.
“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.
You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen smut#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan angst#svt scenarios#mine#young & stupid
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They Think I'm Pregnant - A.H
a/n: i feel like this is kind of shitty but alas here we are!
masterlist
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: the team thinks you're pregnant and you decide to have a little fun with it
warnings: reader is not preggers promise!, honestly the team gossiping is so lol, suggestive content per usual
wc: 1.3k
"I mean she has been kind of moody lately."
The gasp that rose in your surprise was quickly smothered as you pressed yourself against the wall, pushing into it as if that would make you invisible somehow.
"Well, interestingly enough, there has been considerable growth in her chest area. It's due to elevated levels of estrogen and progesterone, which I've noticed with her." Spencer stopped abruptly, the sound of Morgan's muffled laughter in the background. "I'm not saying I make a habit of such observations. Okay, um, don't tell Hotch I said that."
Casting a skeptical eye down your shirt, your frown deepened. Sure, your boobs had grown, but that was a testament to a little happy relationship weight, not the fodder of their theories.
"Nice one, kid," came Rossi's voice, and you could almost see the smirk on his face.
"Oh my gosh, guys, this is like, the best news ever! A mini-agent in the making! Can you imagine how cute she's going to be? I'm going to get her the cutest outfits!"
"Garcia, how do you know it's going to be a girl? Did the baby send you a text?"
The baby? Was rational thought absent among them? It must be. You crossed your arms defensively.
"Okay, maybe we should pump the breaks everyone. Why do we even think she's pregnant in the first place?"
JJ—your voice of reason. You could kiss the ground she walked on.
"I'm just putting two and two together. She walked out, and there was a pregnancy test in the trash that wasn't there before."
Your eyebrows drew down, and the increasing shuffle from the room prompted you to make a beeline for Hotch's office before anyone saw you snooping. But in your defense, Emily snooped first.
The moment the door clicked shut, you lunged for the blinds, bypassing any attempt at a greeting with Aaron. The blinds clattered shut, so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash.
"Honey, what are you—?"
His words hung unfinished as you whirled around, pressing your pointer finger to your lips as if he were a kindergartner about to walk down the hall.
"They think I'm pregnant!" you hissed indignantly, jabbing a finger toward the door as if it were a portal to the rumor mill itself.
His face drained of color as his eyes darted from your face, down to your stomach, and finally rested on your tits. "Are you?"
You slapped his shoulder. "No!"
"Then why do they think that?"
You recounted every piece of evidence they had collected, giving special attention to Spencer's bodily hypothesis as a subtle form of retaliation.
"He said what?"
You laughed, draping your arms around his neck as you made yourself at home on his lap. He leaned back in his chair, arranging you so your legs were stretched out across his lap.
"Focus," you said desperately. "They think I'm pregnant."
"Sweetheart," he chuckled, his hands finding their way to your waist. "Does it really matter what they're assuming?"
Your lower lip jutted out, fingers threading through your hair as you mulled it over.
"You're a genius." Your arms were around him in an instant once again, leaving a big, messy kiss on his cheek as you hopped down from his lap and strode towards the door.
Who cares if that's what they think?
So, you devoted your day to your greatest talent: stirring the pot. If they were set on believing you were pregnant, why should you interfere? Better yet, why not enjoy their theories and have some fun along the way?
You pulled every trick in the book.
In the morning, you bolted from the briefing room with a hand clamped over your mouth, you later reappeared, ginger ale and crackers in tow--which you knew JJ would understand. No one said a word.
In the afternoon, you turned up your nose when Emily offered you coffee, which in turn caused her eyes to bulge out of her head, but still she said nothing.
In the evening, you staged a sudden craving for the strangest of snacks, convincing Spencer of your dire need for pickles dipped in peanut butter. You sent him on a wild goose chase for it, and he did it, no questions asked.
All of these, as some would say--childish antics, lead to a big pile of nothing because no one was brave enough to just ask you.
So now that you were all gathered around Rossi's living room, with the day's efforts in vain, you were forced to drastic measures.
The wine glass was mere inches from your lips when the whole lot of them were up in arms--a blabbering, spiraling mess.
Garcia, her mouth a perfect 'o' of scandalized red, was quick to wrestle it from your grasp, hoisting it just beyond reach as Morgan promptly confiscated it, placing it atop the tallest bookshelf, as if you were a child meddling with contraband.
"What are you thinking?"
"Are you crazy?"
"What are you doing?"
"Hotch, do you see this?"
Their words bombarded you all at once, a rapid-fire of overlapping sentences that was impossible to decipher. A giggle escaped you, hand instinctively rising to your lips. Sure, you had braced for a reaction, but this was beyond anything you had imagined.
You played dumb, your head canting to one side as your brows contracted. "What?"
You basked in Aaron's exasperated eye roll, his hands coming together as if in prayer while he let you revel in the moment. He was a good man.
"What do you mean what? I love you so much, but you have to be out of your mind," Garcia probed, her hands clutching on to her necklace as she looked side to side at the others.
You opened your mouth, ready to provoke her further, but Spencer beat you to it.
"Given the potential impact on blood volume and plasma osmolality, it's really not advised to drink alcohol, considering your condition," he said, fidgeting with his tie while nodding to your belly.
"What condition?"
"Oh, come on! We found your pregnancy test in the trash today!" This time it was Emily speaking, her hands on her hips as she gave you a knowing glance. She quickly muffled her exclamation. "Hold on, you've told Hotch, right? If not, I'm prepared to get on my hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness if necessary."
"You all are ridiculous!" you declared, rising from the couch and moving toward your abandoned wine. Aaron was quicker, offering the glass to you. "I'm not pregnant, and if you nosy nellies had bothered to ask rather than speculate, you'd know that.”
You took a large gulp of your wine. For emphasis. Your colleagues' mouth hung agape, all but Rossi, who smirked and toasted to the absurdity with his whiskey.
"You heard us?"
"Reid, let's just say, I'd appreciate if you would reserve those observational talents for the case files, not on my girlfriend's anatomy," Hotch suggested, the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric at your back as he casually sipped his scotch.
You watched Reid's complexion turn a spectrum of pink hues, his apology barely above a whisper as laughter bubbled around us.
"Wait so then whose pregnancy test did I find?" Emily's words caused a collective breath to catch, glances shifting suspiciously around the room.
JJ's hand shot up, laughing as Garcia barreled into her side, arms wrapping around her before she could even get the admittance out. The room buzzed with congratulatory cheers, everyone sharing hugs and kisses as JJ told the story.
Aaron chose that instant to lift his hand to his neck, his lips meeting yours in a kiss so gentle it turned your insides to jelly. He eased back, his breath mingling with yours as he mumbled, "you know, the idea of you pregnant...it's not something I'm opposed to."
You let out a soft giggle, nestling your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart bleeding into your ear. Your gaze drifted to your friends, toasting with raised glasses--minus JJ--with laughter and chatter filling the air.
"Is that so? Cravings, mood, boobs and all?"
You felt the rumble of his chuckle through his chest, the sensation tingling against your cheek. "All of it."
Rising onto your toes, you reached up to cradle his ear, lips grazing lightly against it. "How about we head home and practice? And then if you put a ring on it, I’ll consider it.”
That was the first time you had Irish goodbye-d a party.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotcher fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff
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Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM
BLISS, PURE BLISS
a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱
wc: 6.4k
warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.
you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.
“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.
“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”
he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.
“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.
“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.
“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”
you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.
gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.
and then, finally, his baby boy.
“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.
“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”
you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.
“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”
all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.
“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”
although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.
“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”
but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.
it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.
gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.
it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.
you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.
“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.
“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.
“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”
“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”
that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”
“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”
“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”
“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.
it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.
“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”
confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.
“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”
by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”
“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”
that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”
“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”
“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”
the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”
you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.
it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.
so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.
[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!!
and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue.
“oh, shit, you’re still here?”
“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.
“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!
“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”
“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”
gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.
but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.
“you—”
your head snaps to him, “yes?”
his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.
but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.
with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.
“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.
gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.
“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.
the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.
“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.
“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”
you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.
“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”
you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”
gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”
but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.
the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.
“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.
“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”
“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”
“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”
“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”
gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.
“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.
he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.
“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”
“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”
he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.
“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”
he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.
go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow.
funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.
so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.
“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”
“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”
“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.
jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”
you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”
he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”
“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.
“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”
“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.
he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”
“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”
gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.
satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —
“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”
you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”
and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.
“s-satoru . .”
“yes, sweets, what is it?”
“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.
“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.
“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”
you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.
“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.
but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.
“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”
“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.
“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.
“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.
“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”
you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.
“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.
“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.
“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”
you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.
“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.
“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him — but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.
“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.
wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.
“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”
you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”
that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.
you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.
inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.
“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.
“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”
giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.
“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”
“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”
and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.
“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”
“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”
and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.
“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”
you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.
“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”
you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves.
“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”
satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.
“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.
you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.
“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”
and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.
“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.
“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”
“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.
“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.
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