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saduko · 3 months

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PAY YOUR DEBT

Lando Norris x Driver!Reader 7.6K words

Summary: Lando's Austrian crash could not have come at a worse time, and now he's scrambling to find someone to replace him in the upcoming Quadrant video. He's so lucky you care, and that you're horrible at lying. Or in which, reader takes Lando's place during Quadrants; 'Spill Your Guts', and they manage to pull some interesting information out of her.

Childhood Friends to Lovers, Pining, Slowburn

Despite having never met you, the cast of Quadrant were more than familiar with your name for one of a few reasons. The first being that, you were of course, a renowned Formula 1 driver beloved by many. The second being their own proximity with another famous Formula 1 driver who so happened to be your Mclaren teammate.

For years they watched from a distance, saw your interviews and watched your races, cheering their team in orange on as the two of you dominated race weekends once again. It was obvious Lando was fond of you just off the way the two interacted on track, but beyond their parasocial concept of your relationship, they knew he liked you because of the sheer number of times your name was mentioned in the Quadrant circle. Lando’s inability to refrain from speaking about you was frankly an ongoing joke at this point. Though they playfully rolled their eyes at every mention of your name, they knew they couldn't necessarily criticize him for it either. Its hard not to talk about people you spend a lot of time around, and naturally, with you two being teammates and all, it wasn’t all that strange for him to want speak about you.

And when they consider the fact that your history stems way beyond just the devoted McLaren camaraderie you share, it’s hard to be mad at him when he brings you up. You two did grow up carting together after all, entering every stage of your lives with the other. You were childhood friends.

Except they had also spent a lot of time with Lando. Yeah, you might work with him, but so do they, and they knew he wasn't just talking about you because you were around often. They knew he wasn't just mentioning you because you grew up swerving along the same tracks or because you now wore the same bright papaya orange.

The man so obviously liked you and they all knew it. He mentioned your smile far too often to hide it, and he always seemed a bit too proud when he talked about being the reason you did. Not a single Quadrant member has ever spoken to you before, and yet somehow each one could articulate the way your eyes crinkled tight when you laughed or how your lips pursed hard when you found something funny but didn't want to show it.

He liked you, even if he denied it.

And so the Quadrant cast begged and begged to meet you. Eager to see the woman who has evidently captured the man's attention, despite his insistence to the contrary to no avail. Though, their efforts hadn't entirely fallen on deaf ears; in fact, Lando had been trying to get you in a Quadrant video since he founded the damn company, begging for nearly four years, only to be met with the same dismissive glare from your gleaming eyes every time.

“One day, Lando. Not today.”

One day, you would say. Though he’s starting to think one day is no day at all. In your defense, opportunities away from the relentless gaze of the media are far and few between and the brief moments of peace you manage to find are precious. The thought of spending that private time filming yet another video for millions to watch has never been particularly enticing. As much as you care for Lando, sometimes you cherish your downtime just a little bit more.

But... this time he was stressed, and you could see it. He was supposed to film a Quadrant video this week. Finally home in London for this week’s Grand Prix, at last, he was able to put a little more effort into his personal business. It was one of the very few times a year he was able to participate in the creative side of the brand. The whole video had been planned, written, set up and was ready to be shot. The date was set, it was finally coming together. But then Lando crashed. He crashed in Austria and now his work at Mclaren had essentially been doubled for Silverstone week and he had no time to film. And now all the week’s worth of effort put into preparing the video had been flung out the window. It was supposed to be yet another spill your guts video focused on Lando and his career but now with last week's events disrupting this week's schedule, they were going to have to rewrite all the questions and find someone to fill his spot.

And so you’d watched him for the past few days on calls, asking around to see who could be available on such short notice. Between his team of producers, the other members of Quadrant and possible candidates for the video, on top of the copious amounts of obligations he had at the Mclaren headquarters, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty knowing you were spending all the current free time you had between track work lounging around the Hilton pool. You technically had no reason not to help. Changing the script wouldn’t be an easy task with the little time they had. You knew filling in meant they would have their empty spot filled and they wouldn’t need to tweak the script as much. You were a driver too, the questions they would have asked Lando still mostly applied to you as well. And you knew it’d do Lando a huge favor; lift such a massive weight off his already heavy shoulders so he could run around McLaren focusing on what actually mattered most this week - getting his car ready for the upcoming race.

And so you did it. You smiled so kindly at Lando on that faithful Wednesday afternoon and so calmly announced that if he was struggling to find a replacement, you’d be happy to help him out just this once. It was finally one day, you would take the spot for Quadrant.

Landos face had never expressed so much surprise yet simultaneous relief. And it was only a matter of seconds until Landos arm had reached entirely around your waist and your feet had left the ground. You caught a few questioning glares being sent your way from a couple Mclaren engineers in the garage, but the breath struggling to find its way to your lips at the force of it all left you unbothered. “Y/n, thank you so much, you don’t understand how much this helps me out! I owe you so bad.”

You would never say it to him, but his smile in that moment had almost paid his debt entirely right then and there. All the nerves and doubt about the decision you just made had nearly swept right by as you watched his face light with adoration. But instead you sent him a defeated grin as he placed you down on your heels. “I’m gonna hold you to your words. I better not regret this.”

“You won't, I swear.”

__ Regret this you will. As soon as the quadrant team had received the call that in his place, Lando's fellow teammate would instead be filling in for his absence, they immediately knew this wouldn’t be the video everyone was anticipating. They would take this opportunity to finally squeeze out the information they had been waiting to know for years. This would be their first time meeting you, and god was it a gold's mine worth of an opportunity. Not only would they be able to question you about your life as an F1 driver, they could also question you about your romantic life as an F1 driver, specifically about your relationship with Lando, a topic you successfully eluded everywhere else. But this video was the perfect opportunity. They would have a polygraph on set, and you were doing Lando a favor. You couldn’t leave and most importantly, you couldn’t lie.

The topic of your love life wasn't a new one, and a flurry of greedy journalists digging for a story have attempted to ask about your potential feelings for anyone and everyone on the grid. You always denied ever liking any fellow drivers and kept adamant that your driving and personal lives stay separate. But they had Lando as a secondary source - maybe to a fault - and from everything the man had explained, there was no way you weren't at least a little into him. And they were gonna get it out of you.

Was it a bit unethical? Maybe. Was it manipulative? Perhaps. Had Lando already told them he’d cut their pay if they fucked with you. Absolutely. But he’d be fine once he hears what you would inevitably say. He could thank them after they got you to confess the crush you just had to have on Lando.

So here you were, staring at a set full of very enthusiastic YouTubers, all beyond eager to be sharing a table with the phantom of a woman they had been hearing about for almost 4 years now.

Not only were you a talented and beloved motorsports athlete, more importantly, you were the girl their mate liked. and as a friend, they were curious, but as youtubers, they were out for blood. And if there's one thing a group of Youtubers were going to do, it was get you to admit your deepest darkest secrets for online content.

There would be no filling, only spilling, they'd be sure of that.

Oblivious as you were, despite how nervous you initially felt about participating in the video, it had been smooth sailing so far along. Everyone was nice enough and you could see why Lando enjoyed the company of these people, they were all quite funny after all, and the questions were not the absolute mood draining, time wasters you were used to receiving.

You were nervous coming into this but maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad.

The table settled from their laughter as Ria finally swallowed whatever it was she had been forced to bite into. Bull testicles? You didn’t want to know, and honestly it didn’t really matter all that much anymore because for the third time round, it was your turn again, and you were now being strapped up to the Polygraph machine.

Max Fewtrell's eyes sparked with a menacing joy as they locked with your own. He was hosting this video, meaning he was safe from the contents of the table, but more importantly, he got to interrogate the girl his best mate was into. He was the only person who knew that for a fact thanks to the multitude of conversations Lando has had with him in private, begging for advice on what to do. As bad as he felt about it, Max could never give Lando a straight answer, he didn’t know his fellow driver, didn’t know what it was she felt, and if she truly meant what she was saying in her interviews, it wasn’t looking too good for his friend.

This was finally his opportunity to help out.

“Y/n…” His voice carried menacingly around the room, dragging out each syllable to draw the suspense. You eyed him playfully, keeping your guard up as his eyes flickered from you to the card in his hand and then back up to you a few times. The last few questions had been relatively tame, all relating to your job; who your favorite team really was, who you disliked the most on the grid, (you'd had your fair few arguments with Stroll, but you bit into an 1000 year old egg because you were not going to admit it.)

A part of you hoped they were giving you easy questions because you were a guest - a good friend of Landos at that, but at the back of your mind you knew better. And that’s why when the question escaped Max’s lips, you really didn’t feel all that surprised. “Do you really mean it when you say you like to keep your professional life and your private life separate?”

Simple enough, but you were smart enough to know the implications of the question, so you hesitated. “... Yes.”

A pause, no buzz. “That’s true.” Ethan comments.

“Okay that’s too easy, let me rephrase it.” Max’s gaze bore straight into your own. “Do you really mean it when you say you don’t see any of the boys on the grid as like, candidates? You don’t find any of them attractive?”

The groan that escaped you was so inherently guttural you hadn’t even noticed you made the noise. Everyone laughed at your reaction and it seemed so light hearted on the surface, but inside your mind was beginning to race, heartbeat speeding up as if the peddle was full throttle. This was exactly what you were nervous about.

You had felt a bit uneasy once finding out a polygraph machine would be present, and crossed your fingers that the team wouldn’t get into the topic of your romantic ties with the boys on the grid. You guess your luck didn't really extend past the track. initially, no ties with the other drivers sparked any fears within you at the question. You really didn't have any romantic ideas of anyone, the others truly were just friends, boys you grew up with, some like brothers. None of the boys had ever made your eyes wander, or ever had your heart skipping beats when you made eye contact. There wasn’t a single driver you could think of that had ever made you nervous or left you hoping for anything more than just a friendship. No one except that one boy. That one stupid boy that had led you into this goddamned position in the first place. That one stupid boy who’s mates were all gathered around the table with eager eyes directed entirely towards you, waiting for an answer. This was truly your worst nightmare. Maybe you did like Lando, maybe the moment had awoken within your days in F2; seeing him grow from the scrawny kid on the track to something else entirely. So what of it? No one needed to know that. Curse you and your incessant want to help that stupid boy through his stress. Why did he need to make you care about him enough to do this? Now, you could ‘fill your guts' if you really wanted to, but with a yes or no question like this, no answer is just as much an answer in itself. You had watched this game enough to know how it worked, and so you opted to take your chances against the polygraph machine. “Yes I mean it.” One phrase. A simple phrase muttered through a guilty smile, and yet you could hear your heart through your ribs as you told the lie and it was so, so silent after that. The anticipation felt like the devil himself had engulfed the room in its glory. The faces at the table had your palms sweating further and Ginge’s ability to hold such intense eye contact left you wondering if there was more to this than it seemed. God, was this the longest 3 seconds of your life. But you were good under pressure. If you can keep your heart steady driving at 350 kilometers an hour, you could keep your heart steady enough to lie your way out of this question-

Beep.

Suddenly the room was ablaze with noise, yelling and screaming as everyone expressed their disbelief yet absolute excitement at the answer. Incoherent sentences thrown your way one on top of the other but your brain couldn’t decipher a single sentence, instead engulfed in the thought of how much this would change the way all the boys spoke to you, how Lando spoke to you, now that they knew you did like someone. You could already hear Danny’s teasing voice followed up by his sly, all knowing smirk. Fuck. Was it too late to back out? Maybe you could bribe Lando into deleting the footage.

But as you glanced forward into Max’s eyes, you saw the silent omniscient smirk that trickled on to his face - like the calm amidst the chaos - and you knew there was no going back. You were cooked. Your face fell into the palm of your hands, sheepish laughs slipping past your lips as you spoke in a slow, bashful tone, “No! It’s-.. It’s not like that!” But damage control is useless when the damage is already done. “Oh really?!” Ginges thick accent was next to echo across the room over top all the others, “Cause it seems like you’ve been secretly canoodling with some fast bastards and lying to all us about it!”

Ethan was the first to laugh, and soon everyone else's laughter followed suit, and as defeated as you felt a loud chuckle slipped past your lips at the comment. At the very least they were being funny about it and not trying to make a huge deal of it.

However, for the time being they couldn't prove it but once you admitted it, there was no going back, so you figured doubling down and playing dumb was the best option. “No- like, okay; the boys are good looking, they're attractive but that doesn't mean I necessarily like any of them. I grew up with these boys, you know, they’re like brothers to me. Your machine is definitely bugging out or something.”

“Nah, I think it’s working fine.” The reintroduction of Max’s voice had the room settling once again. It seemed all the quadrant members were on the edge of their seats, like they had been anticipating this the whole time.

“But if you’re sure it’s not working properly, I can try asking a different question, rephrase it a little better for you?" Max's face turned towards the camera. "In fact, we have a little tradition here!” His eyes gazing through the lens as he spoke. “Spill your guts tradition says that guests have to answer the final question and rules are no eating on the last round.” Now his eyes turned to you, “Truth’s only, so I hope you have your answer ready.”

You were just moments away from opening your mouth to protest, the words at the tip of your tongue; No thanks it’s fine,’ or even just a ‘I’ve already answered two questions, it’s not my turn anymore.’ as petty as it was. But the words were never able to slip past your overly gnawed on lips before your heart was sinking to the absolute pits of your stomach. “Who do you like on the grid and why is it Lando?”

Panic. “God! No- no it’s not Lando!” Deny. “Definitely, not Lando!” Deny.

The polygraph machine was silent for a moment as everyones eyes flickered over to the screen, and you endured the tension in real time as your forehead came down, lips pursing. And yet nothing came, no beeping sound to be heard.

To this all the boys are silent, and Ria’s eyes flicker up to Max as the man furrows his brows down. There was no way they managed to make the driver inadvertently admit she liked someone, just for it to not be Lando. You had to like him. All the stories Lando told him, all the words you spoke to him repeated back to Max, all the looks Lando was adamant he observed. All the nights clubbing, celebrating their wins together in videos Max himself saw. Your hands would travel just a little too far up, or your eyes would hold his just a little too long. It had to be Lando. He knows it.

“Okay, okay fair enough. Then I'll ask again, more direct. Y/n, do you like Lan-”

You knew the flaring panic in your eyes was not doing much to help your case, neither were your next words, but by the grace of god, or maybe his pity, that machine didn't beep despite your lie and you had just been handed an out, and lord be damned if you weren't going to capitalize on that inconclusive result. “Wait!”

You need to be smart about this. You needed to give them something they wanted whilst not giving them everything. A little sacrifice to spare a lifetime of embarrassment, and probably a long and testing conversation between you and Lando. “How about I take one bite of every single thing on this table, chew and swallow instead.” Your eyes held so much hope, pleading for an out but Max only laughs at your soft little doe eyed expression and you couldn't help but frown.

“Okay, that’d be quite funny.” Ria’s laugh suddenly bit the air, and you had to silently thank her for subverting the attention elsewhere for a moment.

“I wouldn’t do that for no one, especially not for Lando. Are you sure you don’t like him y/n?” You knew Niran was joking but god did his comment make your hands sweat. Calm down.

Max shrugged, ignoring the remarks of his fellow Quadrant members. “Rules are rules, can’t eat your way out of the last question, you have to answer.”

You have to think fast. “...Okay, well…" Hm. "How about this?” It’s the only thing you could think of on the fly, but maybe it’ll work. “I’ll tell you the details, but- I won’t mention any names. So you get to know the whens and what’s, without knowing the who’s." Your laugh was light hearted, though it sounded more nervous than humorous.

A silence suddenly engulfed the room, eyes darting back and forth as the people on the table thought over the offer. In fact the room was so silent, you felt you could hear the gears turning in their heads and you couldn’t help but feel your heart rate speed up just a little more at the prospect. These people were essentially marketing geniuses. They were youtubers whose jobs it was to get as many views as possible. Whatever the decision, you knew it wasn’t about to be in your favor, but about what favored Quadrant as a brand. You were no good at marketing - you drove fast cars even faster for god sake, but damn if you didn’t hope your idea was good enough for them.

Ginge’s voice was the first to sound. “Nah, nah, stop trying to change the conversation speedy gonzales, you think ‘cause you’re a bloody F1 driver you can- you can bend the rules!? It may slide over there princess but it ain’t gonna slide ‘ere.” His finger pointed down into the table with a glare that almost felt real and you were really trying to think but now you were laughing.

So was everyone else apparently, because it took you a moment to hear Steve’s smooth voice through all the noise, “Alright, but we’re already putting the girl through a lot.” Then finally Max spoke again. He was really starting to feel like the governing power here, “Okay hear me out. Names are easy to find when you have a story. We get the story and then we evaluate.” His eyes bore directly at you, laughing as he spoke. Max knew with whatever story you told, he could just go right to Lando and together they could eventually connect the dots. He wasn’t trying to out you to everyone… just to Lando.

After a moment of deliberation Aarav spoke, “All agreed?” To which everyone seemed to nod in agreement.

Max nodded his head. “Alright Y/n, you win. In that case, this guy you like-”

“-I don’t like him-” “-How long are we talking?... This guy you like.” The last comment had a playful laugh leaving your lips as you brought your nail to your mouth. He was purposefully pushing your buttons.

Your lips, previously curled into a smile, had now pursed at the question. “I don’t like him.” You reiterate. “It was like a small little crush if anything.”

“Was it recent?” Max questioned. “No, god it was years ago.”

Beep. Fuck, you completely forgot about the Polygraph. You could ring that stupid things neck. Come on, man throw me a bone or something. Max smiled at the revelation, glancing over at Ria as she spoke through her smirk. “Must be more than just a small little crush if your heart beat is rising at the thought of him.” To this, your head hung low as your laugh sounded. “I plead the fifth.”

You couldn’t even imagine how you would look to any viewers at home once this came out. They had well and truly cornered you here.

“Well this isn’t a bloody democracy now is it, this is an ambush.” You're very right Ginge this really is an ambush, you thought. There might be no escaping this one.

“When did you first notice you liked this person?” Ria was determined to keep the conversion on track. This is the most anyone had ever gotten out of you regarding your love life, and it being about another driver? Potentially Lando?! They were so close to what they wanted. You were silent for a moment, assessing the people staring on with anticipation. You’d only ever told this story to two people, your mom and your best friend. Were you really about to expose it to the world? The polygraph strapped to your chest said you were.

“I-... I first felt it a couple years back.”

Compliance. They got you.

“How far back we talking?” Max questioned.

“I don’t know…” your eyes flickered up at him. “Maybe early F2 days?” Ria’s eyes just about bugged out of her head as you answered, hands coming down onto the table with a gasp. “That’s like over 5 years ago!” Her reaction had you groaning, face turning a shade red enough to match the ferraris you race against as you sunk down into your seat. “Now I need to know! There had to have been a moment where you felt it! Because you had been racing with these boys for years! There has to be a moment of clarity, or was it like, progressive? Or-?”

“It- It was definitely progressive in some ways but I do remember the moment it kind of.. hit me.”

“Was it sudden?”

“So sudden.” You laughed. “Tell us!” It felt strange to engage in this conversation, you had sworn to yourself that no one else would ever hear about the feelings you had buried away for years now. Was it better to speak or to die? That truly was the question… But, It was out now, everyone knew you had feelings for one of your teammates; at least one of your F2 ones. What more harm could the details afflict? Besides you’d raced against a multitude of drivers in your F2 career, many of which never even made it to the current F1 grid so the chances of anyone guessing who you were even talking about had to be slim. Speak it was.

“We were-” The observant eyes of the Quadrant members beamed on at you as you bit your lip in deliberation, but the debate in your brain was finally over, and so you took a breath in.

“We were in between seasons beforehand, so I hadn’t really seen the boys in a few months. And I remember walking into one of the common rooms, where a bunch of the boys were all sitting around before the race, and again, I hadn’t seen these boys for quite a bit.” Your hands moved with every word you spoke, “And the thing about the F2 is that, we were all about 17 to 18 right, so most of the boys had already had their growth spurts, puberty and all that… except for this one guy.” Your eyes were bright as you recalled the memory, a laugh chasing the ends of your lips as the table fell silent.

“And at this rate - in my 17 year old brain - the only thing that ever really mattered to me was racing. Like I could genuinely have cared less about boys and relationships and all that, I’d never had a boyfriend and I was so disinterested in it. To me these boys were my friends off track and my competitors on, nothing in between. So I remember seeing everyone I hadn't seen for while and not really thinking much of it. But then my eyes kind of looked on and… noticed.. him.” God that sounds so corny but you were trying to be inconspicuous, not give away too many details. It wasn’t working.

“Him?” Max smirked.

“Him.” You doubled down. “The person.” You glared as a light laugh sounded. “He had always been a bit more on the smaller side, I guess? A 'late bloomer.'” The phrase came to you. “And I don’t know what the fuck happened in those four months we were away but god did puberty hit that motherfucker like a truck.” This time the laughter was a lot louder and you leant back, suddenly a little more comfortable now that the weight had been lifted off your chest. “It was like, he had gone from this scrawny little kid everyone used to pick on to this… man in the blink of an eye and my brain could not comprehend it.”

“Moment of clarity.” Ria laughed and you laughed alongside her.

“No really! Like that’s really what it felt like. I remember hugging everyone because I hadn’t seen them in so long, but when it came to this guy, I just, like- stared and nodded at him and he gave me the weirdest look cause I'd never done that before!” Your voice was thick with embarrassment as you chuckled, and everyone joined in your laughter. Then you stuck up your pointer finger. “But it gets worse.” You swallowed. “So my brain’s already kind of short circuiting in that moment and I guess he thought my odd behavior just wasn't worth his time because then he just goes on, puts his hands down and takes off his shirt-”

“What?!” Ethan yelled.

“Because we were racing soon and they always would! They would change around the paddock all the time! It’s so normal, they still do it, and I never, ever thought anything of it, like it never phased me. But this one time, when he just lifted his shirt over his head and I was already feeling things I’d never felt before, I was already confused, and oh my god. I don’t know what happened to me.”

Once again the table was booming with laughter. “No, it was so bad. Definitely one of my worst moments. It got to the point where one of the other boys; no names - had to smack me alongside the head and tell me to stop glaring.”

Max’s eyes lit up as he heard the last part. “Wait, people noticed?” “Not people, just the one, I think. If anyone else did, they never said anything.”

“Huh.” Max nodded. “And you don’t feel this way anymore?”

The word came without hesitance, “No,” you shook your head.

Beep.

Max had just found his jackpot moment. He had the information he needed.

What a week it had been. Between the guilt of Austria, the subsequent frantic Mclaren schedule leading up to Silverstone and the stress of the Quadrant video, Lando felt he could truly take his first breath of fresh air knowing at least one of those problems was officially resolved.

The day was nearing its end meaning you were probably just about done filming with his crew and were likely headed back to the hotel for some well deserved rest before a hectic day of simulation practice and debriefing tomorrow.

He knows he has already done it 1000 times over, but he really needed to thank you for the favor you did him this week. No matter how much you spoke of all free time you had, he knew you were really just as busy with race prep, it wasn’t the simple ‘schedule squeeze’ you had made it out to be and he was more than grateful.

“What time did you say Y/n was coming back?” Charles’ voice rang loud throughout the room as his eyes flickered up from his phone. A few of the drivers had decided to spend a not so usual night in Max's hotel room sharing a few drinks. Camaraderie and all that, especially after the tension of last week.

“She should be finishing up now.”

“Is she coming back here?” Charles continued, still glancing between his phone and Lando’s eyes, fingers tapping briskly over the screen.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to her. Why?” Landos eyebrows furrowed down as he asked.

“Nothing, Alex was asking, that's all. I think she was going to stop by if so but I’ll tell her don’t worry.” To this Lando hummed. As much as he hoped you would stop by - hoped you would have a few drinks with them because you always got a little touchy and so much more bold with your advances when you did (and he’d be completely lying if he said he didn’t love it everytime) - he also knew how exhausting a day of filming was. Further, he knew his friends, and as much as he had scolded them - put them through the ringer about not messing with you, he knew them well enough to know they would do it anyways. You would probably go straight back to the room, and while he understood, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

Distracted with his thoughts of you, he had almost missed the buzzing of his phone on the table besides the couch armrest he had been leaning against, if it hadn’t been for Carlos’ voice breaking the trail his mind was wandering. “Lando compadre, your phone.”

Snapping his eyes to the side, Lando quickly reached out and turned it over to see Max Fewtrell's name splayed across the screen. And being too lazy to pick up the phone and assuming he was just calling to assure him that filming went well, he swiped his finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button to talk.

“Yeah mate, how’d it go?”

“She has feelings for a driver.”

Woah. No hello, no how are you, not even a build up to the revelation? It felt as if the world had stopped spinning as every single person in the room froze to look back at Lando with wide eyes.

“W-What?” Landos heart felt still in his chest as he spoke.

“We got her to talk about her relationships on the grid-”

“-You dickhead! I told you not to-”

“-I know you told us not to push her, but It wasn’t me!”

“You’re telling me she just admitted that on her own?” Landos voice was laced with sarcasm, a scoff of knowing disbelief leaving his throat. Bullshit.

“No! … Ria did it.”

“Max you muppet, she was doing me a favor! She probably hates me now.” Lando sighed into his hands before peaking through his fingers to glance around. All three boys; Charles, Carlos and Verstappen all had their heads turned towards the phone with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Max laughed. “Maybe not! She said there was a driver she had a crush on during her formula 2 days, she wouldn’t admit who and when we asked if she still liked them she said no, but the buzzer went off. She was lying, Lando.” The silence in the room seemed deathly thick as the words left Fewtrells mouth, the three other boys blinking at the words they were hearing. They were sure to be experiencing the same emotions Lando himself had been. Shock, confusion, maybe a little intrigue. The boys had been teasing you for years about your relationship status. You had been single for so long, yet constantly surrounded by men so it was inevitable that the conversations would arise; you had to like someone. Nevertheless, you always stood firm, exclaiming that always being around the boys just made it even easier not to.

After years of the same answers, with absolutely no indication to suggest otherwise, it was hard not to believe the words you spoke. And when you started dating your then boyfriend a few years ago - now ex, thank god for Lando - and bringing him around the paddock; a random guy none of the boys knew very well, the teasing well and truly died down. You really didn’t like anyone on the grid.

But now here they were hearing that the years of teasing, the years of questions, of loud drunken debates and near screaming matches had all been in effort to hide the truth they all suspected. A truth you had been hiding for over 5 years apparently.

The silence must have stuck out to Max Fewtrell beyond the phone, as he seemed to continue talking in the absence of a response. “Here’s what we managed to get out of her. He was an F2 driver that raced with her. She was close to him because he was one of the first people she saw after off season. She had raced with him before, so it wasn’t a new driver. And get this, he was a ‘late bloomer'- was one of the smallest in the comp before he shot up.”

Suddenly it was as if the gears were beginning to turn in Lando’s head, and he couldn’t help but pick up on the obvious smile Fewtrell definitely wore behind the phone. A late bloomer? There weren't many of those by the time they had reached Formula 2, and if there was one thing Lando was, it was a late bloomer. And it seemed everyone else had put the same cogs together, because now all the boys seated around were looking at him with sly smirks and cocked brows.

God, there was no way. Not a single chance! Lando had spent the past however many years of his life stumbling after this girl, chasing your shadow in hopes for just a single moment of something more between you. That you would glance at him from a distance for as long as he did you, yearn to talk to him as much as he did you, sit up and think about him as often as he did you. He had liked you for as long as he could remember, and while he admits it may have been more akin to puppy love back in his teen years, that innocent crush quickly developed into something so much more intense as he got to be close to you. He wasn’t really afraid to admit he had feelings for you, and while he's never really said it out loud, he also made no attempts to hide it either, and it quickly became obvious to all your mutual friends that he liked you.

The two youngest single people on the paddock that grew up together, now teammates, who were forced to be around each other everyday but somehow were still never apart, even when it wasn’t required, together anyway. Except one was obviously in love and the other would never like a driver, personal life and professional life were strictly separate.

Beep. Lies.

Fuck, no, he couldn’t get his hopes up like this. It’s something, but it also doesn't really mean anything.

“Okay but, there were a lot of damn drivers on the f2 grid. There were a few late bloomers, and she was friends with plenty of the other guys that never made it to Formula 1. She- she could be talking about a lot of people.”

“You didn’t think I'd call you with all this doubt, Bob?” Max’s voice was smug and mischievous and Lando couldn’t help but wince at the dumb nickname. “Respect my name. I wouldn’t leave without something to attest. Apparently she was caught staring at the guy by another driver. Another driver knows, or at least they noticed.”

“F2 years you said?” Verstappen's voice rang loud, it almost made Lando jump from the change in bass.

“That’s what y/n said.”

Verstappen's eyes seem harsh as his brows move down to come over his lids. “Coming back from the off season?”

“...Yeah?” Fewtrell agrees.

In the blink of an eye Verstappen’s tense face had quickly fallen into a bright and humorous expression, eyes squinting tight as his head fell back in a loud laugh, “Oh my god!”

“What?” Lando questions.

“Oh my god, Lando, It’s you!”

A chorus of ‘what’s’, and ‘huh’s’ course the room as Max leans over to give Lando an exhilarated slap on the back of the neck. Lando’s eyes are wide as he leans forward in a wince. Though, wether he was wincing at Max’s sudden motion or the revelation he’d just been subjected to, he wasn’t sure. You? Liking him?!

“It was me who noticed!” His laugh boomed as he spoke. “I remember it because I thought it was funny at the time, and for a while after it I thought she might have liked you because it was so unlike her. But she kept denying ever liking anyone and then she showed up with that prick of a boyfriend after that and I just let it go. I always knew it was something!” Max’s voice went raspy as he spoke in a loud, joyful tone, he was no doubt excited at the news. He loved you and wanted to help you wherever he could. And though he would never say it out loud, watching Lando pine over you; the way he cared for you, the way he would defend you when the media had negative things to say; he did think Lando would be a good match for you.

Now, Lando on the other hand, Lando’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to conceptualize the bomb that had just been dropped over him. He had spent so long pining after you, thinking you saw him as nothing more than just a teammate or worse, just a friend. The idea of you possibly liking him back was a concept he had spent night dreaming of yet never did he think the day would actually come. He was so unconvinced of it ever happening he almost felt unprepared, unsure of what to do or how to act now. Yet, here it was. The room seemed to buzz with a newfound energy, the boys' playful teasing barely registering as he tried to wrap his head around the idea.

"Lando, you okay?" Carlos asked, his voice softer than usual, breaking through Lando's thoughts.

Lando blinked, looking up to see the concerned yet amused faces of his friends. "Yeah, just... processing."

“She likes you mate!” His best friend's words sounded unreal to him. You like him. You like him too. All this time trying to form something with you, not realizing what you already had.

Crashing that goddamn car may have been the best fucking thing that's ever happened to him.

If he’d known this would have been the outcome of DNFing he’d have sent his car straight into the track barrier years ago. Sacrificing pole position if he had to.

He truly thought nothing could have taken him away from this moment, not a single other thing could pull him back from his thoughts of you. Nothing except you. And the sound of his phone beeping with the tone of an incoming call really did pull him back to reality. Because it was you. You were calling!

The boys incessant chatter had immediately come to a halt as Lando shot up. “She’s calling!” His head turning left to right as he frantically looked around at the boys around him. “She’s calling, what do I do?”

Fewtrell’s voice couldn't have come through any clearer. “Answer you knob!”

And so he did. He analyzed the buttons and clicked the one that ended the call with Max and sent it straight over to you instead.

His heart stuttered as the line went silent, anticipation pulsing through every inch of his veins. The boys sat back in their seats, eagerly eavesdropping on a conversation that could potentially bring a whole new meaning to the word WAG. But Lando didn’t care, more so he didn’t notice, he truthfully had been so sucked in by the letters of your name he forgot the boys were even there.

What was he even supposed to say? You didn’t know what he knew, maybe he shouldn’t have answered. And yet he found his voice shakily as his teeth clasped his bottom lip.

“Hello?” His breath stuttered as he spoke, and the line sat silent for just a moment too long for Lando’s liking. Y/n? “Lando, you owe me so bad!”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #lando imagines #f1 x reader #ln4 #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #f1 #lando norris x you #quadrant #quadrant x reader

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pucksandpower · 11 months

Text

Breaking Point

Charles Leclerc x Ferrari!Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc finally reaches his breaking point after the disaster that was the United States Grand Prix. Something needs to change … and that’s where you come in

“Again, again!” Charles’ voice rings out, echoing through the debrief room, “How can we mess this up? I was on pole!”

Fred Vasseur looks down, sighing, but trying to maintain composure. “Charles, it was a miscalculation—”

“A miscalculation?” Charles retorts, eyes blazing, “This has been a trend all season, Fred. It’s not a one-time mistake. It’s systemic.”

Carlos, looking uncomfortable, tries to chime in, “It wasn’t just about strategy, you know the car—”

“Oh, I know the car,” Charles snaps, “And it was built against my driving preference. But it’s not just that. It’s everything. The poor race strategy, the unnecessary swap, and now being disqualified as if my day has not been bad enough!”

Enrico Cardile, the team’s technical director, steps forward, “Disqualification was not anticipated. We followed the regulations to the best—”

“Enough with the excuses!” Charles’ voice cracks with emotion. The weight of the season, the betrayal he feels, finally makes him see red. “Every time there’s an excuse. We’re a team and yet somehow it feels like I’m constantly battling not just our opponents but Ferrari as well.”

A deep silence settles.

The head strategist, Ravin Jain, finally speaks up hesitantly, “We thought the one-stop made sense. The data suggested—”

“Data,” Charles interrupts bitterly, “The same data that led to a decision that every other team on the grid laughed at! Did the data also suggest swapping me with Carlos? Or was I being punished for being able to manage my tires?”

Carlos, despite himself, looks hurt. “I didn’t ask for the swap,” he mutters.

Charles takes a breath, looking at his teammate, “I know. It’s not your fault, hermano. But I need to trust the team’s decisions. And right now, I don’t.”

Sporting Director Diego Ioverno tries to mediate, “It’s been a tough season, Charles. Everyone is understandably stressed. Let’s sit down, review everything together, and find a way forward.”

Charles shakes his head, “That’s what we said last time. And the time before that. And the twenty times before that! Empty promises, meetings, discussions, and then what? Nothing gets done and there is another disaster waiting to happen.”

Fred tries one more time, “We’re as frustrated as you are. We’re a family. We’ll figure this out.”

Charles scoffs, “I can’t keep being let down and used. Not like this.”

The room falls silent once more, a heavy cloud of disappointment and tension hanging in the air.

Carlos reaches out, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder, “Things will get better.”

Charles meets Carlos’ gaze, nodding slightly. But the fire in his eyes has not dimmed, “I need to believe in this team again. But right now ...” He pauses, “I have a call to make.”

He turns, leaving the room filled with introspective silence. The team is left behind, grappling with their own emotions, knowing that actions will always speak louder than words.

***

Charles steps out into the warm evening air, taking a moment to compose himself before dialing a number he knows by heart but hasn’t touched in months.

“Hey,” Charles’ voice is a low rasp, every ounce of weariness evident.

Then a pause, as he listens to the voice on the other end.

“Yeah, it’s me ... look, I know what I said earlier this season. About handling it myself.” He takes a deep breath, letting the weight of it all settle.

A longer pause, broken by Charles’ intermittent nods and “Uh-huhs.”

“Every race feels like it’s been one disaster after another. And it’s not just the car, it’s everything. I can’t ... I can’t keep doing this to myself.”

He listens closely.

“I told them today, laid it all out. But it’s like talking to a brick wall. They listen, they nod, and then? The same mistakes. Over and over.”

He shifts his weight, the sound of his shoes scraping on the gravel echoing softly.

“I know, I know I told you not to get involved ... but maybe ... maybe that was a mistake.” He sounds defeated, a man at the end of his rope. “I need help. Real help. Maybe it’s time you step in.”

Charles is silent, absorbing whatever the person on the other end is saying.

“No, it’s not about leaving the team,” Charles’ voice is earnest, desperate even. “It’s about respect. Trust. It’s about feeling like I’m not constantly fighting against the tide, not just against other teams but within my own garage.”

A long pause.

“What I mean is, maybe some changes within the team would be good. Fresh perspectives. New faces, perhaps. Somewhere I can trust the decisions, the strategy ...”

He sighs.

“I just want to race, you know? Without all this drama. Without constantly wondering if I’m being set up to fail no matter what I do.”

Another pause as he listens, nodding, lost in the gravity of the decision he’s about to make.

“Thank you. Really. Let’s talk tomorrow? Lay out all our options?”

There’s a moment of quiet, only the sound of his breathing, the distant hum of the circuit, the world slowly dimming around him.

“Thanks. Goodnight, Y/N.”

***

“Emilia,” you call out, and before a moment passes, your ever-efficient personal assistant is by your side.

“Yes, Y/N?” Emilia asks, perfectly poised.

“I need the jet prepared. We’re heading to Mexico City,” you say, voice steady and determined though inside, the turmoil from the phone call with Charles still lingers.

Emilia raises an eyebrow slightly, a silent question in her eyes. “Any particular reason?”

You sigh, looking away for a moment, reflecting on the weight of the legacy you carry. “Scuderia Ferrari needs my direct attention. I trusted them to handle things, but ... it’s clear that has not been happening.”

Her eyes flash with understanding. “Of course. I’ll have the jet ready. When do you wish to depart?”

“Tomorrow morning, early.”

She’s already typing into her tablet. “I’ll book you the Presidential Suite at the Four Seasons. Will you be needing a meeting space there?”

“Absolutely,” you nod. “On Wednesday, before the Grand Prix. Organize for all team personnel to meet in the hotel conference room. And Emilia ... they are not to know the reason for the meeting or that I’m the one calling it.”

Her eyes gleam with a hint of mischief, “Mystery and surprise. I love it. Consider it done.”

A small, wry smile tugs at your lips. “Thank you. And can you make sure Charles knows about my arrival? But ask him to keep it quiet.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

You pause, taking a moment to consider. “Just one more thing. Make sure we have everything we need to review the team’s decisions and strategies for this season. Every little detail.”

Emilia nods. “Absolutely. Everything will be arranged as per your instructions.”

You take a deep breath, “Thanks, Emilia. This … it’s about preserving a legacy, and right now, that legacy is on shaky ground.”

She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “If anyone can steer this ship right, it’s you.”

***

The door to the conference room opens with a low creak, and the room immediately falls silent. Everyone turns to see you entering, your presence commanding every ounce of attention.

“Good afternoon,” you begin with ice-cold authority. “Thank you all for meeting on such short notice.”

There are murmurs of acknowledgment but no one dares speak up.

“I’ve reviewed our performance this season,” you continue, pacing the length of the conference room, letting each word sink in. “And to say I’m disappointed would be an understatement.”

Fred shifts uncomfortably in his seat, eyes darting around the room. You lock eyes with him, “Fred, you promised change. But the only change I’ve seen is our team’s steep decline.”

“I understand your frustration,” Fred stammers, “We’ve faced challenges—”

You cut him off sharply, “Challenges? Every team faces challenges. What matters is how you overcome them.”

Several team members look down, uncomfortably shuffling papers and avoiding eye contact.

You turn to the strategists, “Your decisions have cost us dearly, time and time again. Your inability to read a race situation, to adapt, to strategize effectively ... it’s quite frankly appalling.”

One of the strategists, a middle-aged man named Roberto, speaks up defensively, “We did our best with the information we had.”

Your eyes narrow, “Your best? Tell that to Charles, who has been left out in the cold race after race.”

Moving on, you address the engineers and designers, “Our car has issues that should have been rectified at the beginning of the season. Yet here we are, still struggling.”

An aerodynamicist named Lucia, clearly agitated, stands up. “We’ve been working tirelessly, trying to find solutions.”

You level her with a gaze, “Then maybe it’s time we look for people who can find those solutions more efficiently.”

Lucia’s face reddens, “You can’t just—”

“Actually I can,” you interrupt, “And I will.”

Your attention turns to Xavi, Charles’ race engineer, who has been noticeably silent. “Xavi, your dynamic with Charles has not been the slightest bit helpful. His feedback, his needs ... they’ve fallen on deaf ears.”

Xavi, trying to defend himself, says, “It’s a two-way street. Charles can be difficult.”

You shake your head, “Charles is a world-class driver. It’s your job to bridge any gaps, not widen them. I checked and it turns out that constantly repeating we are checking like a broken record is not beneficial for race performance!”

Taking a deep breath, you make your announcement, “Effective immediately, Roberto, Lucia, and several other strategists, engineers, and aerodynamicists that a personal audit revealed as detrimental to team performance relieved of their duties. Xavi, you too are let go.”

There are gasps around the room, the weight of your words sinking in. Roberto stands, fuming in anger, “You can’t just dismantle this team!”

You lock eyes with him, “I’m not dismantling. I’m rebuilding. And if that means letting go of every one of you who can’t uphold the standards of Scuderia Ferrari then so be it.”

Fred finally speaks up, “And what about me?”

You lean in, “Consider your position on very thin ice. I expect results. And fast.”

You straighten up, the room thick with tension, “Scuderia Ferrari is not just a team, it’s a legacy. My great-grandfather would be rolling in his grave to see what has been done to his beloved team. I will not stand by and watch it crumble.”

With a final, piercing gaze around the room, you pivot on your heel and exit with a flick of your hair.

***

You lean against the cool wall, taking a moment to gather yourself after the emotional intensity of the meeting. The hallway is quiet save for the distant hum of voices but soon familiar footsteps make their way around the corner.

“Charles,” you call out softly as spot the driver.

His green eyes, clouded with a mix of emotions, meet yours. “Y/N.”

“Are you okay?”

He hesitates, “I wasn’t expecting all of that.”

You nod, “It was long overdue. I should have intervened much sooner.”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process everything. “It’s ... a lot. I didn’t think you would actually step in like this.”

You sigh, “I hoped I wouldn’t have to. But my bisnonno once said that aerodynamics are for people who can’t build engines, and right now, it sure seems like Ferrari can’t do either.”

Charles chuckles dryly, “You have a point. It’s been ... frustrating.”

You gently touch his arm, trying to reassure him, “Enzo also believed that dreams become bigger, much bigger, to build a car that doesn’t slow in the curves, that flies without leaving the ground. I want that dream for you. For us.”

He looks at you, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. A car that allows me to race to my full potential.”

You nod, thinking of the iconic red car and its tremendous legacy, “I know. And we’ll get there. Remember, racing cars are neither beautiful nor ugly. They become beautiful when they win.”

A smile tugs at Charles’ lips, “I haven’t won in too long. I almost forget what it feels like.”

You step closer, “That is going to change. I’m here for the long haul. To rebuild, restructure, and reclaim the Ferrari legacy. Glory will be dressed in red once more.”

He nods and swallows thickly. “Thank you, Y/N. It means more than you know.”

You smile softly, “We’re a team. And I promise to do whatever it takes to see us on top again.”

***

Early that Friday at Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, you gather the team in the garage.

“Good morning, everyone,” you begin. “I know it has been a whirlwind these past few days but I want to set the tone for this weekend.”

Fred, still adjusting to the new dynamic, nods silently from the back.

“We haven’t had the time to implement any physical changes to the car,” you continue, “But they are coming. For now, the difference will be about being smart … being strategic.”

Charles listens intently, his gaze occasionally drifting to the newcomers in front of him.

Speaking of the new additions, you gesture to the two people standing on either side of you, “I’ve brought on Marit Nilsen as our Principal Strategy Engineer and Claudio Segreti as Charles’ new race engineer. Not only are they exceptional engineers but also global chess masters.”

There are murmurs of surprise and interest among the crew. The world of Formula 1 and professional chess has rarely, if ever, intersected.

Marit, a tall woman with striking blonde hair, steps forward, “Chess is all about strategy, foreseeing the opponent’s moves and countering them. That’s what we’re here to do but on the track.”

Claudio, with his dark hair and deep-set eyes, adds, “Every move and decision we make will be precise. We’ll anticipate, adapt, and overcome.”

Carlos clears his throat, “So what’s the plan for free practice?”

You smile, “Today, we observe. We learn. We see where the car stands, where our strengths and weaknesses lie.”

As free practice commences, there’s a different energy in the garage. Marit, with her sharp analytical mind, quickly picks up on patterns, working closely with Claudio and Carlos’ engineer to ensure both drivers get feedback they need.

There’s a visible shift throughout the weekend. The team, rejuvenated by fresh perspectives, operates with a renewed vigor. And while the car may not have upgrades yet, new strategy quickly begins to make a difference like anticipated.

Qualifying sees Charles securing P3, an unexpected but welcome result. The garage is full of cautious hope but Marit and Claudio remain focused, already planning for the race to come.

Race day dawns and the tension is thick. You pull Charles aside, “Remember, things have changed. Believe in the strategy and the moves we make.”

He nods, “I trust them. And I trust you.”

As the lights go out and the cars roar to life, Charles delivers a performance that’s both calculated and aggressive. Every pit stop and every overtake is orchestrated like a chess match.

The race sees Charles finishing in P2 and Carlos in P4, a significant improvement from recent races.

The garage is a mix of tentative elation and relief.

Marit thoroughly reviews the race data, “This is just the beginning. Once the car upgrades are in place, the board will be ours.”

The sun sets on the Mexico City Grand Prix, but for Scuderia Ferrari, a new dawn is on the horizon.

***

“Fabiano Turati,” you muse, looking at the impressive portfolio before you. “Aerospace engineer, a key player in the development of hypercars for Agnellotti Motors, a professor at Politecnico di Milano. But never in F1?”

Fabiano, with salt and pepper hair and an air of quiet confidence, smiles slightly. “It’s not for lack of offers. I have just always believed in pushing boundaries outside of traditional paths.”

You lean back, intrigued, “So why Ferrari now?”

His eyes scan around the garage, “A challenge. An opportunity. A legacy to uphold. And, to put it simply, I think I can make a difference.”

You nod, appreciative of his candor. “We have three races left this season: Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. Realistically, how much can we improve?”

You can practically see the gears in his brain turning, “In terms of complete redesign? Not much. But in terms of optimization and efficiency? Quite a bit.”

By the Brazilian Grand Prix, Fabiano’s influence is evident. While not a complete transformation, the SF-23 sports streamlined wings and a refined rear diffuser, maximizing what the current design allows.

“Initial feedback is good,” Charles reports after the practice session. “There’s a notable difference in the corners.”

Carlos chimes in, “The balance feels better.”

The improvements are evident, with both Ferraris finishing just off the podium. But Las Vegas poses a new challenge: a circuit unfamiliar to all teams and drivers.

“This is anyone’s game,” Marit says, examining the track layout.

Fabiano nods, “This weekend will be all about adaptation.”

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is an exhilarating rollercoaster. Charles fights for a podium finish, narrowly missing out but showcasing the SF-23’s newfound prowess, while Carlos secures a solid sixth.

As the season finale in Abu Dhabi looms, anticipation runs high. The Yas Marina Circuit will end the year with a test of Ferrari’s mettle.

Post-race, with both Ferraris finishing on the podium after avoiding a pile up that took out multiple opponents, there’s a sense of satisfaction but also of hunger.

“We’ve made progress,” Fabiano says as the garage winds down. “But next season, we’ll aim for a car that is not just evolved but fully revolutionized.”

You smile, “With you on board, I truly believe we can. The future is bright for Scuderia Ferrari.”

***

“Look at her,” Fabiano muses, admiration clear as the blueprint for the SF-24 is spread out before you both in your Maranello office.

“She’s a beauty,” you agree, tracing your fingers over the schematics. “If she performs half as well as she looks ...”

“She will,” Fabiano leaves no room for doubt. “We’ve streamlined the aerodynamics, enhanced the power unit, and made significant weight reductions.”

Carlos walks in with a grin on his face, “Is this the beast we’re taming next season?”

“That’s the plan.”

Charles catches your eye from where he lingers by the door. “It’s a fresh start,” he murmurs, approaching the table almost reverently. “I feel it.”

Over the following weeks, you rarely leave the factory other than to sleep and shower. You immerse yourself with the team, observing wind tunnel tests, joining strategy sessions, and even trying your hand with pit stop drills.

One evening, after a particularly long meeting, Charles finds you in the lounge, sipping an espresso. “Mind if I join you?”

You gesture to the seat across, “Of course not.”

He sits and just looks at you until you get the urge to fidget. “I’ve been thinking,” Charles begins, “About the changes, the car, and ... us.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Us?”

Charles smiles slightly, “You and I. We’ve spent so much time together these past weeks. I’ve gotten to know you, not just as Y/N Ferrari but as ... Y/N.”

You flush and not just from the hot coffee, “I feel the same. It’s been ... refreshing. Getting to know the man behind the helmet.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “There’s this great little place just outside Maranello. Quiet, hidden. I was thinking, maybe, dinner?”

Your heart skips a beat but you maintain your composure, “I’d really like that.”

The winter in Maranello unfolds, and as the SF-24 takes shape, so does the bond between you and Charles.

Between brainstorming sessions and late-night discussions about optimal setups, there are stolen moments: shared glances, lingering touches, and dinners that stretch long into the night talking about anything and everything.

Carlos teases, “Seems like the new car isn’t the only thing igniting sparks.”

You roll your eyes but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. You don’t try to deny it. Why bother when you hope it might be true one day?

***

r/formula1

Posted by RaceRundown · 6 hours ago

First look at the SF-24! Thoughts?

RedFever · 6 hours ago

This could be the machine that keeps Ferrari at the top. Just look at those lines!

PitStopPundit · 5 hours ago

Getting major 2004 vibes from this. Could be a dominant year for the Scuderia!

***

You step into the air-conditioned motorhome, grateful for an escape from the Bahraini heat. Charles and Carlos, race suits unzipped around their waists, are animatedly discussing their first day of preseason testing with the SF-24.

“Last year, we didn’t have to sandbag because the car was, well … genuinely that slow,” Charles laughs. “But this time around ...”

Carlos grins, finishing his sentence. “This time, we have an ace up our sleeves.”

You nod, “Just remember, it’s only testing. We still have to see where we truly stand.”

The race weekend finally kicks off and the paddock is full of speculation. After a deliberately unimpressive showing during testing, no one expects Ferrari to be a front-runner.

Yet, when the lights go out, the SF-24 does not just impress …. it dominates. Charles takes P1 with Carlos not far behind in P3. And the world takes notice.

The next few races see a rejuvenated Ferrari. In Saudi Arabia, Charles and Carlos deliver a nail-biting duel with Red Bull, securing a double podium. Australia is a tougher battle, with Mercedes coming to form, but Charles clinches a respectable P4.

The Asian leg of the season has its highs and lows. In Japan, despite a torrential downpour, Charles masterfully handles the wet track to clinch the top step. On the podium, he points up at the sky and then shapes his fingers — first into a one and then a seven — a silent tribute to his late godfather and mentor.

However, China proves challenging and sees the SF-24 struggling unusually with tire degradation. But as Miami approaches, the team regroups and Charles takes a commanding win under the Florida sun.

Then comes Imola, the first of Ferrari’s home races.

As the sun shines brightly over the circuit named after your great-grandfather and grand uncle, you find yourself walking the track alongside Charles. The weight of racing on home soil evident in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” You check, sensing his nervous energy.

He looks at you and taking a deep breath. “Racing in front of the Tifosi at home always feel different. I want to make them proud.”

“No matter what happens today, they will be proud of you. The whole team will be proud of you. We’ve come so far.”

He smiles, visibly lighter. “Then let’s give them a race to remember.”

And it is nothing short of spectacular. Charles starts P2, but with determination and brilliant strategy, he overtakes Max in the final lap and secures a victory for Ferrari on home soil.

The roar of the crowd, the sea of red flags, the tears in Charles’ eyes as he stands atop the podium — you make a promise to never forget this moment.

As the sun sets on Imola, the Scuderia Ferrari team comes together, basking in their victory.

As Charles, champagne-soaked and beaming, pulls you in for a damp hug, it is clearer than ever that this season is only the beginning of a beautiful journey ahead.

***

“Norris is approaching on a flying lap. Make sure not to impede,” Claudio’s voice comes through crisp and clear over the radio during the dying moments of Q3 for the Monaco Grand Prix.

You can practically feel Charles’ concentration from where you’re seated on the Ferrari pit wall. The narrow streets of Monaco leave no room for error … Charles knows this better than most.

“Copy,” Charles responds, adjusting his position on the track just enough to give Lando the space he needs to pass while keeping his own momentum.

The clock is ticking and Charles needs a perfect lap if he wants to clinch pole position.

“Tires are feeling good. Pushing now,” Charles says, rounding the first corner with precision. The SF-24 dances around the iconic circuit, the roar of its engine echoing through the streets.

From Casino Square to the hairpin and through the tunnel, Charles’ driving is flawless. Every apex hit and every corner nailed.

“Final sector, Charles. Make it count,” Claudio encourages.

And he does. Crossing the line and jumping to the top of the timing board.

The garage cheers but there’s no time to waste. Tomorrow’s race is what truly matters.

***

Race day in Monaco is always special, but today, with Charles starting from pole, there’s an electric tension in the air.

“Lights out in ten,” Marit announces over the intercom.

Charles, already in the zone, simply nods.

And then he’s lined up on the front row.

The lights illuminate one by one. Then, in a heartbeat, they go out.

The race is on.

Charles gets a strong start, holding off challengers through the initial turns. The streets of Monaco are notoriously difficult for overtaking, so track position is everything.

“Maintain the pace. Tire management is key,” Claudio advises as the laps progress.

As the race unfolds, strategy becomes crucial.

“Plan to box in two laps,” Marit instructs through Claudio. With with Verstappen close on his tail, everything must be executed perfectly.

The pit stop is lightning-fast, the crew working in synchrony. Charles emerges just ahead of Max, who had followed him into the pits.

Throughout the race, Charles’ skill shines. He manages his tires, navigates the backmarkers, and keeps a razor-sharp focus.

The final laps approach. The team, the spectators, the entire Principality holds its breath.

The chequered flag waves and Charles crosses the finish line to takes his first home win. The elation, the pride, the sheer emotion of the moment is overwhelming.

“Monaco, Charles! You’ve won Monaco!”

Tears in his eyes, Charles responds, voice choked, “We did it! This is for Monaco. This is for Ferrari. Grazie mille. Merci beaucoup.”

The team gathers beneath the podium, celebrating their victory and the hometown here. Charles quickly sprays the two drivers beside him before aiming the bottle at the sea of red cheering in front of him and soaking his team in champagne.

He thinks back to how this weekend ended last season and let’s his elation wash away the years of dejected he faced before.

Things are different now.

***

“I’ve never seen Monaco come alive like this after a win,” you shout over the pulsating music in one of the city’s many upscale clubs.

Charles grins, leaning in closer so you can hear him. “It’s the magic of a home race victory!”

As the night turns to early morning, alcohol flows freer and the laughter grows louder.

The Ferrari team loves any reason to celebrate and they’re certainly making the most of the location.

Charles pulls you to a quieter corner of the VIP section. “Have you ever danced with a Monaco Grand Prix winner?”

You roll your eyes at the attempt at flirting but laugh as you accept his outstretched hand. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The two of you dance, losing track of time.

The world blurs around you. All that matters is the magnetic pull between you two which has been simmering for so long that it is threatening to overflow.

Charles pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

You relish in the warmth of his breath against your skin. “What’s that?”

“I’m drawn to you,” he admits, eyes searching yours. “Not just because of tonight but ... there’s something between us. I feel it. And I think you do too.”

You swallow hard. “I do.”

He hesitates before wrapping an arm around your waist, “Come with me.”

Without a word, you both exit the club, making your way to his apartment. The air between you is thick with anticipation but also vulnerability … openness.

Once inside, he gently pushes you against the wall, lips crashing onto yours. It’s passionate and intense, like a dam that has been waiting to break.

Charles pulls away slightly, “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you whisper, eyes locked with his. “But ... Charles, not just for tonight. I don’t want this to be just a result of a victory high or the Monaco night air.”

He cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “I don’t want that either. This isn’t about the race or the party. It’s about us. I think it’s been about us for a while now.”

“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He chuckles softly. “You think it’s easy, being around you every day, wanting to be close but maintaining a distance for the sake of professionalism? To spend every evening when we’re in Maranello sitting across from you at dinner and wishing that I could call it a date? But tonight,” he pauses, eyes searching yours, “Tonight felt different.”

You waste no time to draw him closer. “No more waiting then.”

***

Canada’s Circuit Gilles Villeneuve echoes with the roar of engines and the cheers of fans. Charles dominates the track, mastering the chicanes and the notorious Wall of Champions.

But the race isn’t straightforward. Mid-race, strategy suddenly changes when an unexpected rain shower soaks the track. However, the new strategy team you’ve brought in makes all the right calls and Charles takes the chequered flag.

In the Spanish sun, it’s a different story. The high-speed corners expose a slight flaw in the SF-24 which leaves Charles fighting valiantly but finishing third.

Despite the setback, you see determination in his eyes. “We’ll get them in Austria,” he promises.

True to his word, at the Red Bull Ring, he dominates. The SF-24 suits the straights and fast corners. Charles takes pole and leads every lap, building a gap that the competition can’t close. The victory feels even sweeter given the circuit’s name.

Silverstone proves challenging. There’s fierce competition, and while Charles doesn’t win, he’s involved in one of the most thrilling wheel-to-wheel battles of the season with Max Verstappen. They exchange positions multiple times, showing pure racing talent. In the end, Charles finishes a proud second after a photo finish.

The Hungarian Grand Prix tests the team. Tire strategy becomes paramount. The SF-24 shows vulnerabilities in the surprisingly sweltering conditions. Still, Charles’ impeccable driving and some cunning strategy calls earn him a place on the podium.

At the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Charles shines brilliantly. He conquers Eau Rouge and Raidillon like few can, making it seem effortless. The SF-24 feels perfectly balanced and he takes another win, smiling at the Ferrari flags waving high in the crowd as the Monegasque and Italian anthems play.

Through it all, you see Charles grow not just as a driver but as a leader and beacon of hope for the team and global fanbase. He is not just driving for himself or for Ferrari, he drives for everyone who believes in him.

***

The warm Italian sun pours golden light onto the expansive villa overlooking Lake Como. The water below sparkles, mirroring the sky. For a brief moment, the hectic world of Formula 1 feels miles away.

You’re lounging under an oversized umbrella, Aperol Spritz in hand, while Charles emerges from the pool, beads of water cascading down his toned physique.

“That swim was perfect,” Charles grins as he flops down beside you.

“You were in there for ages! Trying to turn into a fish?”

He shakes his head like a wet puppy, making you squeal as you try to escape the splashes. “Just preparing for our yacht trip. Besides, I have to burn off all those pasta dinners we’ve been having or else I won’t fit in the car by the end of the month.”

“The troubles of a professional athlete,” you laugh, “I’ve been indulging and I’m not even sorry.”

That evening, the two of you share a quiet moment on the terrace. Soft jazz floats from inside and cicadas buzz rhythmically.

“Remember our first race together?” Charles starts. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

“I never imagined we’d be here. But I am so glad that we are.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes reflecting the same heat you feel. “Me too. These moments, away from the track with you ... they’re special.”

The following week, you find yourselves on a luxurious yacht off the coast of Sardinia. Charles’ family and both of your friends are aboard. The sun decks echo with laughter, music, and the soft lapping of waves. There is never a quiet moment and you relish in the sounds of happiness.

As you stand by the railing, watching Charles and Joris race each other on jet-skis, Arthur slides up beside you. “So, how’s life with my big brother?”

You laugh, “It’s an adventure every day. But honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.”

Arthur nods, “I’ve never seen him this happy, you know?”

You smile warmly, your gaze drifting to where Charles has somehow fallen into the water and is now splashing his friend. “He brings out the best in me, just as I hope I do for him.”

***

The gentle lapping of the Mediterranean waves seems like a distant memory as you find yourself in Zandvoort.

“Quite the change of scenery, isn’t it?” Charles chuckles, standing beside you as the sea breeze of the Dutch coast tousles his hair.

You laugh, “A bit but I’ve missed it. Nothing beats the excitement of a race weekend.”

And what a weekend it was. Charles, against all odds, comes out on top at Max Verstappen’s home race. The Dutch crowd offer begrudging respect as Charles takes the top step.

And then, Monza.

Monza is different. There’s an electricity in the air that cannot be replicated anywhere else. It’s the home race of Ferrari … the cathedral of speed.

“Do you know,” you tell Charles as you both walk through the paddock, “I used to come here with my grandfather as a child. This track ... it’s steeped in history. I’ve always loved it.”

“Winning here was like nothing else I have ever experience,” he reflects. “Let’s do it again. We’ll write our own chapter in history this weekend.”

Qualifying is a nail-biter. Charles pushes the SF-24 to its limits, dancing on the edge of control.

“How are we looking?” Charles checks in.

“You’re on provisional pole,” Claudio responds over the radio. “But push on the last sector. Max is close and getting closer.”

And push he does. Charles clinches pole with a margin that leaves no doubts about the capabilities of both the driver and the car.

Race day, the atmosphere is fever-pitched. The Tifosi, in their sea of red, wave their flags and banners, chanting Charles’ name like a prayer. As the lights go out, the battle rages. The strategy is aggressive, a one-stop that requires Charles to defend position in the latter stages of the race.

“Lap 45. Push now, we need widen this gap,” Claudio instructs.

The tires scream in protest as Charles further carves out a lead. But as the laps tick down, Verstappen and Piastri close in.

“Drive smart and hold them off. Four laps to go. You’ve got this,” Claudio urges him on.

Going wheel-to-wheel with Max through the Ascari chicane, Charles pulls ahead. The Tifosi roar, their energy and sheer will pushing him on.

“Last lap. Bring it home!”

And he does.

As Charles crosses the finish line, the crowd erupts. The track is soon packed with red as fans flood the track, surrounding the podium.

From the sea of faces, one voice stands out — yours, “You did it, Charles. Monza is yours.”

He lifts the trophy high, a tear in his eye, “We did it. This is for Ferrari … for the Tifosi … for us.”

***

The streets of Baku and the lights of Singapore both witness the magic that Charles and the SF-24 weave together. Two more wins, two more steps closer to the championship.

And then you find yourselves in Texas.

“Do you remember this time last year?” Charles asks.

“How could I forget? It was the phone call that changed everything.”

Charles laughs but there’s a weight to it, “For both of us. It was a disaster ... pole to sixth and then the disqualification. All because of...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, the mismanagement of the team a heavy shadow neither of you can forget.

“You’ve grown since then,” you point out gently, “The team has grown. Look at where we are now.”

He nods, taking a deep breath, “One year. So much has changed. From one of the worst days in my racing career to ... this.” Charles gestures around, to the revamped team, the transformed car, the very atmosphere of competence that permeates every corner of the Ferrari garage.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” he whispers, “The championship is within our grasp. Right back where it all went wrong.”

You take a moment to pull out your laptop and open a data sheet, “Here’s the breakdown. If Max gets P2 in both the sprint and the race, you need P1 in both. That’s how we seal the championship this weekend.”

Charles’ eyes scan the spreadsheet, “That’s ... a tall order.”

“But not impossible. Not for you and not for this team,” you assure him.

He chuckles again but it’s brighter now, “With you in my corner? I know anything is possible.”

***

The energy is electric when qualifying day arrives in Austin. You find Charles in his driver’s room, eyes closed in focus as he visualizes the track.

“You ready for this?”

His eyes pop open, determination burning in them. “Ready. Let’s show them what we can do.”

Qualifying unfolds in a blur of fast laps and bated breath. Charles pushes the limits, wrestling the SF-24 around the bumpy circuit.

“Time for one more lap. Give it your all here,” Claudio radioes through.

Jaw set, Charles squeezes all he can from the SF-24. Silence falls as he crosses the line … broken by cheers as his new lap time is set.

Pole position for the second season in a row.

Charles sheds his helmet and rips off his balaclava. “Yes! That’s how we start a weekend!”

The sprint shootout and race similarly see Charles launch cleanly from P1, building a gap early.

“Verstappen is matching your pace, don’t let him get within DRS range,” Claudio advises.

“Copy,” Charles responds, focused.

A late charge from Max raises tensions but Charles keeps him at bay, taking the chequered flag and the eight points.

“That’s the way to do it!” You shout as Charles enters the garage.

“Grand Slam in the sprint, now time for the main event,” he grins.

You rally the team Sunday morning. “Remember, the start is crucial. The car that lines up in P2 has led by the end of lap 1 for five years in a row. We need full focus.”

It seems like barely any time has passed before Charles takes his spot on the grid. Lights out, tires screeching, he holds the lead through the first lap madness.

“Nicely done,” Claudio praises. “Manage those tires now.”

The pit stop strategy is executed flawlessly. Charles takes his second stop, emerging ahead of a charging Verstappen.

“Ten laps remaining,” Claudio counts down.

Charles responds with measured confidence, “Let’s bring it home.”

In the closing laps, he is poetry in motion, hitting each apex and maximizing every straight. Max closes in but Charles is perfect to the millimeter.

“Charles Leclerc,” Claudio’s voice cracks with emotion, “you are the World Champion!”

Eyes wet, Charles radios in, “Yes! Yes! Yes! We did it! Thank you guys! This is unbelievable! Grazie, grazie mille, grazie a tutti! It’s been an incredible season with all of you. This is for the team, for Ferrari, for all the fans, and for everyone who has supported me. We brought it back to Maranello! I’m speechless ... grazie, thank you!”

In the garage, celebrations in full swing, you lean in with a laugh, “Don’t worry, I checked with the FIA — the plank is up to regulation this time.”

Grinning, Charles pulls you into a passionate kiss as the team hoots and hollers around you.

The World Champion smiles so bright he makes the Texan sun look dull in comparison.

You would do anything to make sure he feels like this every season. You will do anything to make sure he feels like this every season.

***

The winter sun casts a warm glow on Maranello as you walk beside Charles into the Ferrari factory. The off-season buzz of activity fills the air as the team prepares for next year’s challenges.

Charles looks at the sleek lines of the new SF-25 with anticipation. “She’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see what she can do.”

“This one’s special. She’ll be fighting for the championship again.”

“Yeah?”

“You heard me right,” you say with a smile. “I made you a promise. Last season was just the beginning.”

As Charles turns for a briefing, you spot Fred across the room. Your relationship has evolved and he now respects the authority you wield for the team’s benefit.

Approaching, you extend a hand. “I wanted to say, you’ve led the team well this past season.”

He grasps it firmly. “We share this success. Thank you for being the catalyst we needed”

You know there will still be challenges ahead. But Ferrari has been reinvigorated. Its racing spirit has been reignited.

That evening, Charles joins you on the terrace of the home you both share when in Maranello and wraps you both in a warm blanket to fight the chill. “Can you believe what a year it’s been?”

You shake your head. “It’s been a dream.”

He pulls you close. “The dream is just beginning and it’s a dream I hope we never wake up from.”

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ahundredtimesover · 9 months

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I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that.

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—”

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.

He’s unfairly handsome.

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what��s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. “Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

Note

You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

#Sever oc #terato tag #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster x reader #monster x you #minors dni #not sfw

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foxy-eva · 1 year

Text

Stress Relief

Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something.

Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."

Oh.

There was only one bed.

The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option.

Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?"

"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."

Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ."

You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!"

You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.

"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer.

You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."

With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.

When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least.

Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place.

“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look.

A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine.

As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.”

He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”

The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were.

“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”

Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck.

“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you.

“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained.

To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”

Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”

You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore.

When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center.

There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot.

He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed.

“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.”

Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you.

To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.

“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?”

Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.”

“You read a book about massages?”

The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all.

It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking.

“Are you interested in that?”

Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!”

“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!”

Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded.

Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point.

His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”

Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”

“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.”

The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back.

Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to.

The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs.

Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions.

“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.”

You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish.

“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going.

One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon.

“Please continue and… go lower.”

In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts.

“Like that?” Spencer groaned.

You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”

As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild.

You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.”

“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response.

There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him.

The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet."

It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him.

The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment.

"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."

At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.

Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans.

You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."

With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead.

The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.

"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl."

You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you.

When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?"

Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle.

You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat.

His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.

With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face.

"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again.

"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips.

His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand.

Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions.

"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him.

He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."

Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"

As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist.

He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.”

"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."

With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you.

As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.

You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."

His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions.

"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice.

That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.

When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself.

Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air.

You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.

Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.

When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles.

"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned."

"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut

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hana-no-seiiki · 6 months

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this is prolly the only fem! reader i’m ever writing with batfam in this blog. enjoy.

(implicit) yandere batfam x dommy mommy! reader

— in which these men realize you were far more than just an assistant

Galas were fun at times. But when forced to attend such repetitive events in addition to their vigilante work — well it was safe to say, it was not boding well for their sanity.

You worked as a general assistant for the BatFamily. As Alfred’s daughter, you endeavored to ease your father and his employers’s lives. You were a sweetheart. An absolute angel. The loveliest lady to ever exist.

Until you were pushed past the brink of your limits, stress wise, of course.

The whole Jason coming back from the dead and Bruce being dead took a massive blow to your sleep schedule. The boys took it as an opportunity to blur the lines between work and personal life. Slowly inserting themselves into your day to day outside of what you tirelessly scheduled for them.

So when a villain managed to break into the Batcave while you were there all on your lonesome (took a while for you to schedule every single one of them so that they’d be too busy to bother you), you didn’t take it all too kindly.

By the time the boys got back home, they were only privy to the following things

(1) You were a lot stronger than what you appeared to be. If the footage of you absolutely decimating the man wasn’t already a sure sign there was also the fact that you managed to somehow replicate a lot of the moves the boys would learn during training. Must have been something Alfred drilled into you as extra measure.

(2) You were a lot more menacing and sadistic when stressed.

The intruder looked at you with pleading eyes. His face black and blue. Could you blame yourself? You only had one night of peace and this man ruined it.

You sighed. He seemed to be incapacitated enough. Pulling out the chair to the iconic Batcomputer, you took a seat and pondered.

Bruce gave you access to all the alcohol you would need to ease the stresses of life. Might as well you shrugged.

You slowly took off the stockings Dick gifted you a while back. It was a prototype of his merch he said. You knew it was just because he really wanted to see you in fishnets. Then, you used the tip of your toe to raise the intruder’s head to face you.

You paused for a moment, remembering how Tim would often look through the cameras old footage on his free time. His overworking and stalking habits are really be something you work on.

The thought of him seeing the way you act momentarily froze you.

But the alcohol in your system begged to differ.

“Make it up to me, and I’ll let you go.”

Eh, you’ll deal with Tim and Damian scolding you for your unhealthy habits later. And your dad’s sermons on professional behavior.

And whatever mess Jason makes you clean up for the night too.

The boys watched the footage with bated breath and tighter pants at your actions. This was a side they’ve never expected from you.

You poured a drink of your choice down your thighs and legs. The liquid slowly dripped down the skin of your calves and ankles before it reached the tip of your toe.

“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t give a guest a drink?”

And (3)

They would kill to be that man.

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itsjustrosee · 4 months

Text

Alright because of all the support on my last post with Stiles, I figured I should write another 😚👍

Worried Sick Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

Context: established relationship, Stiles comes to visit you when you don't show up to school

Warnings: none, just fluff

Wordcount: 1.1k

You had been in your room curled up in bed, tangled in blankets and stuffed animals all while you were supposed to be at school.

You had just gotten your period and your cramps left you nothing short of bedridden and on the verge of throwing up all day. You were experiencing womanhood at its absolute finest, to say the least.

Suddenly, the door to your room swung open, and a very confused and distressed Stiles entered your room. His expression softened once he saw you weren't dead or bleeding out, and a wave of relief seemed to wash over him.

"Not using the window to get in anymore?" You asked jokingly, rolling to your side to face Stiles who had now set down his bag and kneeled at the side of your bed. Being Scott's twin, you and Stiles needed to keep your relationship a secret. That's why when it came to hanging out, Stiles would always come in through your window rather than your front door so the both of you wouldn't get caught.

"Well, you gave me a key to your house for a reason right? Also going in through the window would've taken me too long," Stiles explains, his expression still slightly filled with worry as he placed one of his hands on your bed while the other tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"What were you in such a rush for?" You ask with a chuckle in reaction to Stiles's seriousness, snaking your hand out of your covers and placing it on top of his.

"Well you didn't show up to school and I was worried," He explains, his expression soft and genuine. "I thought something bad might've happened," He says quietly and slowly.

For any other boyfriend, his girlfriend not showing up to school shouldn't cause them this much stress, but considering all the supernatural shit Stiles has somehow managed to get involved in, he couldn't help but worry himself to death.

"I'm okay Stiles, really I am," You say, reassuring him, "Just on my period that's all," You explain, trying to manage a smile but your stomach felt like it was being turned inside out, so it probably came out as more slightly disturbing than comforting.

"Ok good, I thought it could've had something to do with that. Which is why-" Stiles says, relieved, as he gets up and grabs his bag before sitting down next to you on the bed. "I have come prepared," He continues with a goofy smirk plastered on that stupidly cute face of his.

You sit up lazily as Stiles begins to show you what he bought. He whips out a plastic bag from inside of his backpack with items ranging from Tylonal, Advil, and Mydol, (which you immediately snatched and swallowed), all the way to chocolates and a heated stuffed animal.

"I got confused when I saw all the... feminine products, so- um-" He explains while taking out yet another plastic shopping bag from his backpack to reveal at least ten different boxes of tampons and pads.

You pause and stare at the ginormous haul of items that Stiles has bought you and you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

You appreciated Stiles and his caring towards you more than anything, especially in moments like these. He always knew the right things to do and the right things to say, and you loved him for it.

Stiles, however, didn't take your silence in the right way. "I'm sorry- it's stupid I know, I bought way too much. I bet I still have the receipt somewhere, maybe I can still return it-" He asked, sadness and disappointment slowly creeping into his voice.

"No!" You reply quickly. "Don't return it, and none of this is stupid," You confirm before sighing for a moment. "Stiles, this is literally like the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me," You explain, turning to look at him while you say it, a smile slowly forming on your face as you do so.

"Really?" Stiles questions, his embarrassed expression being replaced by one of relief and pride.

"Really," You say while scooting over in your bed and patting the space next to you, beckoning him to join you.

Stiles lays down next to you, and you gladly roll over and climb on top of him, resting your head by the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him. The heat radiated off of his body as you listened to his heartbeat and the slow movements of his chest going up and down.

Stiles brought the covers over you and kissed your head before speaking once more, "You don't want to use the stuffed animal I gave you?" He asks with a chuckle as he wraps his arms around you, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your back.

"Nope, I think you'll do just fine," You say as you lift your head to look up at him.

Stiles takes this moment to lean down and kiss you gently. He kissed and held you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. As if with one wrong move you'd shatter into a million pieces, so he treated you with such care, holding you softly and closely to make sure you didn't.

Though the kiss only lasted a few moments, it made you forget all about the pain you felt in your abdomen and replaced it with butterflies. He definitely had a way of making you feel safe and comfortable whenever you were around him.

Once he pulled away, he looked at you with hearts in his eyes, "You're so beautiful, you know that right baby?" He said, his voice so faint that it practically made your heart beat out of your chest. He removed one of his hands from your back and placed it on your cheek and you immediately melted into his touch.

You could only let out a satisfied hum in response, you were too lost in his features to bother replying coherently.

Stiles let out a low chuckle as he kissed your forehead, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head, stroking your hair as he did so.

"Get some sleep okay?" He said while wrapping his arm just a bit tighter around you, "I'll be right here if you need anything," He said softly.

"I know," You say, your words muffled slightly as you rest your head in the crook of his neck, "You're not goin' anywhere," You say with a smile as you place a quick kiss on his neck.

"Didn't plan on it," Stiles mumbles, about to fall asleep even before you do. But as your meds kick in, you can't help but slowly drift off to sleep as well.

Okay, I'm having WAYYYYYY too much fun writing these I'm sorry 😭

I finished majority of my finals so I'm going to be much more active again so keep sending in requests! I'm continuing to work on them

Also, I cannot thank you guys enough for all of the compliments and praise I've received on my last post with Stiles, it was literally so sweet of you guys. My inbox was literally filled with people praising my writing and y'all have no idea how happy that made me, like literally my heart almost burst.

#teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #teenwolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf x reader #x reader #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles fluff

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glow-in-the-dark-death · 8 months

Text

Survive the Dorms

Danny can now easily say that college sucks.

He's getting less sleep than when he first started being a hero back home.

His roommate was straight out from the horror stories you would hear about roommates. He was hoping to switching rooms after the year was over, but that was still so far away.

Danny was falling asleep whenever and wherever he could.

His lack of sleep mixed in with his stress about school started to show some of his ghostly side while he was out of it.

Sleepwalking would be normal for anyone, but Danny was far from normal, he would go invisible and intangible, some people even managed to get video of it, if a very distorted version no mater how hard they tried.

Sleep talking as well, which would scare the hairs off anyone who would listen. Humans weren't meant to hear ghost speak after all.

Somehow people never could figure out it was Danny,

And Danny,

Danny had no clue he was the reason people thought that the dorms and school were haunted.

Danny getting the best sleep he has had in weeks: *yawn* "I need to do that more often"

The Dorm: "Salt I need more saLT!!"

TD: "I'm still alive!"

TD: "I was so freaked out last night! Did you see how it moved?"

Danny oblivious thinking their talking about a new horror movie

Danny's Roommate holding a cross he got from the Dollar General

Danny floating in the air above his bed, sleep talking about his homework in Ghost Speak

DR: "Fuck this, I'm dropping out!"

Danny looking at his classmates being Stressed TM: " Ah yes normal collage things!"

TD every night:

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #dp #dc x dp prompt #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #scary danny phantom #creepy danny

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lustspren · 9 months

Text

Ko Ko Bop ft Aespa. 1/2

length: 20.5k words ✦

Aespa & Male Reader

Sequel to Erinyes.

genres: little bit bdsm, bi, voyeur, oral sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, blowjob, creampie, thighjob, party sex, squirt, pool sex, dirty talk

✦✧✦✧✦✧

After that experience you told yourself that it would never be repeated, it had been something too crazy and reckless on your part as well as that of Ryujin and the other girls, you enjoyed it like a bastard, being high and fucking that trio of beautiful girls inside a luxurious mansion, but it was a resounding no for you.

That morning you had woken up several hours later, around 6 or 7 in the morning, and since there was no type of authority visible to the people inside the party, the whole house became complete and utter chaos, in true style of some kind of X Project where luckily and thank god the police or some crazy person with a flamethrower didn’t showed up, but Ryujin (and some of her close friends within the party) had had to use her own money to cover repairs.

You had to stay practically all day with them, being in charge of sending all the people home one by one in the most kind and calm way you could, some guys behaved like dicks and refused to leave, but to at noon, only you, Ryujin, Minjeong and Ning were left in the house. They asked you to stay for lunch, and so you did, but as soon as you finished your meal you went straight back to the comfort of your home.

During the rest of winter break you had a few more encounters with the three of them, especially with Minjeong, whose somewhat cold attitude softened and transformed into something much warmer and affectionate, she was still an introverted little princess and still cold towards other people, but with you or the girls she always behaved with a sweetness that slowly dragged you to want more than a friendship with her, but your mindset was not the right one at that moment to try something.

Although your relationship with Ning and Minjeong had improved considerably after that winter vacation, physical contact during school days was rather little since your head could not be anywhere else but in your studies and in your grades, you talked by text message with both of them, more with Minjeong than with Ning, but every time one of them told you to go out and have a drink you politely refused. You only went out with Minjeong to the movies once, but you couldn't have any post-movie plans since you had to immediately go home to study. You felt very bad about it, but Minjeong understood it with a lot of maturity and empathy.

With Ryujin, however, things were much more different. You were college classmates and your schedules coincided 100% of the time, so you spent much more time together than you were used to months ago. You fucked, you fucked a lot. Normally there was no particular excuse to do it, you just did it whenever you had the chance, most of the time in your homes when it was 'study night', and the rest in public places which you were embarrassed to remember.

Despite all this, you somehow managed not to develop any kind of love interest in each other, everything had remained a simple friends-with-benefits relationship with which you were more than comfortable. You always opened up to each other and told each other your problems, especially on days of frustration and severe stress with university as the main culprit, but at the end of the day it all boiled down to a purely sexual attraction.

She and Minjeong were a great support to you throughout the semester, and you were looking forward to summer so you could finally spend time with them without having to worry about a damn exam next week. The first week you met Ning and Minjeong to go out to dinner, a fun night in which Ning got stupidly drunk and you had to take her to your apartment since she refused to go to hers that night, in the end Minjeong gave in to your plea to not leave you alone taking care of her, so the three of you slept together that night. You slept cuddling with Minjeong, and the tensions of the day led to a fuck in the middle of the night where you and her were still more asleep than awake. Ning never noticed.

You didn't meet Ryujin for a few days, but you talked a lot via text message. She seemed quite excited about something, but it was still a mystery to you what, it wasn't until the beginning of the second week of July when you found out. Another damn party at her house. Obviously it was a resounding no at first, but Ryujin had a great damn talent for sweetening your ear in such a way that any idea seemed brilliant and rational. Her pretext this time had been that there would be very few people, but you didn't believe a single word she said.

Yet there you were, in a taxi on the way to the damned house, dressed in white shorts, a baggy navy blue shirt, a white cap, and white sneakers. Every second you spent in the back seat of that car was a second in which you kept thinking that in a few hours you were going to regret the decision you had made, you would think differently, but you were so used to Ryujin lying to you that it was already too difficult to get out of that mindset.

When the taxi left you outside the house and you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you were surprised not to hear loud music coming from inside the villa. Your first thought was that surely not enough people had arrived yet, so you didn't get excited yet. You passed through the gate and you were also surprised to see absolutely no one at the windows or outside, when last time at that point the disaster was such that you could notice it without even entering, you thought that perhaps everyone would be gathered in the living room, so that didn't help you either.

You reached the door and rang the bell a couple of times, waiting patiently for someone to open, finally your best friend and spicy hostess appeared under the wide wooden frame, dressed in a white baseball t-shirt that covered her jean shorts and a small white top. She looked you up and down and smiled triumphantly knowing that, once again, you signed up as an accomplice in her plans.

"Don't you dare say a single word, Shin Ryujin," you said, raising your finger to walk past her and enter inside.

"I was just going to say that you look very handsome!" she laughed.

"I always do, you don't need to remind me," you responded, walking with your back to her towards the living room near the piano, your friendship was already at a point of trust in which you walked around that house as if it were yours.

"Fuck, how humble," she followed you from behind, "Hey, why so serious?"

"Because you dragged me again to another party that's going to get out of hand," you passed through the kitchen and went up a couple steps, you could already see the piano that preceded one of the outdoor rooms.

"Uh? Why would that happen?" she was now walking beside you.

"When people start arriving you'll see," you finally passed the piano, passed through a small hallway with a wooden credenza on the left to finally reach your destination, getting a pleasant surprise.

"What people are you talking about?" Ryujin frowned, standing next to you while you looked at Minjeong, lying on the wide gray sofa, Ning, sitting at a small circular legless table, and a couple of girls you had never seen before.

"Where are the others?" You asked, frowning, upon hearing your voice, Ning and Minjeong (who's eyes lit up when she saw you), turned around at the same time. The two unknown girls also turned to look at you.

"Honey, did you take your schizophrenia pills today?" Ryujin placed the back of her hand on your neck. You turned to look at her.

"Are you telling me there's no one else here?" your disbelief made her laugh.

"Nope," she denied with a giggle, "did you think I was lying to you again?"

"You said it, again. It wouldn't have been the first time you do it."

"But this time I didn't. Look," she turned to the girls, who were still looking at you, "you know these two sluts already," she said, referring to Ning and Minjeong, but then took your hand to lead you towards one from the unknown girls, who was sitting in a chair in the corner, with her legs resting on a stool in front, "this is Jimin."

"Uh... hello, my pleasure," Jimin, whose beauty had you perplexed from the beginning, lowered her legs from the stool and slightly bowed as a cordial greeting, a small shy smile on her face. She was wearing a long beach skirt with jean shorts underneath it, a bikini top with straps to the neck and two long sleeves, the same pattern as the top.

"Pleasure is mine," you smiled back, "nice hair," you said, looking at her long, black, slightly curly hair.

"Oh," she opened her mouth and made a cute shocked expression at your compliment, "thank you," another bow, and another little smile.

"Isn't she a sweetie?" Ryujin asked, rubbing Jimin's chin with her fingers, "she's a genius, she studies medicine and she kicks your butt academically."

"Huh? No way," you took that personally.

"What was your GPA this semester?" Jimin asked.

"3.7"

"4.0" (A+, the highest grade.)

"What?!" You yelled, "Wow, that's impressive."

"Well, I'm really passionate about my career," she laughed, playing modesty.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure you do," Ryujin took your hand again and led you outside the room shadow, stopping next to the girl who was standing on the grass with a cigarette between her fingers. She was incredibly hot, her revealing outfit showed off a pair of long, fleshy legs, adorned with jean shorts that covered her belly, she was also wearing a cropped green cardigan, with a bikini top that left little to the imagination.

"Hey, what's up," the girl greeted before Ryujin introduced you. She was made of different wood, you could tell. She brought the cigarette to her mouth, took a drag, and blew the smoke to the side of her. You greeted her with a nod up.

"This is Giselle, our Japanese bad bitch," Ryujin said. She reached over and took the cigarette from Giselle's fingers to take a drag as well. She didn't seem to care, she just waited for her to return it.

"Giselle? You're not from around here, right?" you asked, as she analyzed you up and down.

"No, I wasn't born here, and from what I see you weren't either," another drag on the cigarette.

"England, you?" You said that in English.

"America, where from England?" she replied back in the same language.

“Birmingham,” your thick accent made her laugh. Ryujin just looked confused.

"Oh, like Peaky Blinders?" You heard that question so often that you didn't even care anymore.

"Yeah, just like the Peaky Blinders. Only without the part about being in a criminal organization."

"Well, that's a shame. I like bad boys," she brought the cigarette between her lips and took a long drag that ended up extinguishing all the tobacco inside it. She put the cigarette butt in one of her back pockets, winked at you and returned to the shadow of the living room with the other girls.

"You know this is the first time I've heard you speak English, right?" Ryujin said from beside you.

"Really?" you went back to Korean.

"Yeah," she nodded, "and I've known you for years."

"I suppose there was no need to do so."

"No, but I wish you had, you sound so sexy," Ryujin's hand went to your cheek and caressed it with her thumb, then leaned in to kiss it.

"Ryujin-ah!" Ning called from behind you. You both turned around at the same time, "where's the alcohol?" She asked, "And why don't you come here with us?" That last question was directed at you.

"I know you crave my attention darling, calm down," you joked, walking with Ryujin into the room. Ning stood up and rushed towards you with a tight hug. You hugged her back, looking at Minjeong. You winked at her.

"How can I not when I hardly saw you for all these months?" She pulled away from you, both hands on your shoulders. You looked into her eyes, as beautiful as ever, "who gave you permission to look so fucking hot today?"

"I can ask you the same thing," you looked at her lovely body from top to bottom. Her cropped see-through shirt and her short skirt were the same red color with small white spots. You could see her bikini under the shirt, and immediately her tits demanded your attention.

"It's been really hot lately, actually," she took a small step back and took off her see-through tank top, leaving herself in her bikini top and miniskirt, "too hot."

"Indeed, too hot," you stated, looking at her tits.

"Aren't you going to say hello to me?" Minjeong's small, soft voice. You walked past Ning and went to her.

"I have something better for you," you took her hands and made her stand in front of you. You wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed her against you. Minjeong placed her hands on your chest, and you leaned forward to crash your lips against hers.

You shared a kiss for a while that felt like mere seconds to you. You missed Minjeong's lips, small, soft and plump. Eyes were on the two of you, you could feel it, and you could also feel the confusion and shock in many of them. You didn't care about that. Months had passed since the last time you were able to hold her like that in your arms, filling her with the love that you had sworn to her unconditionally long ago. You separated when Minjeong spoke to you.

"Can I spend a few days with you at your house? You know, after today," her voice came as a whisper, you just nodded and gave her another peck.

"Are you guys done? You're going to make me vomit," Giselle interrupted. You turned to see her sitting on Jimin's lap, who had her arms around her waist. Jimin, on the other hand, looked at you with a small smirk.

"Fuck, you haven't seen anything yet," Ning said, sitting on the couch behind you, "they get unbearable sometimes."

"How long have you been together?" Jimin asked, both glowing eyes darting between you. The complicated question. You and Minjeong looked into each other's eyes, searching for the right words.

"Well... I mean," she began.

"We're not together, but, uhm..." you continued. Ning put a hand to her forehead, covering her gaze, Jimin raised both eyebrows attentive to your explanation, and Giselle was holding back her laughter.

"It's just… well, it's complicated," Minjeong concluded. Complicated, yes, that's what it was.

"So... you're not together but you just gave me a romantic scene worthy of a movie?" Jimin said that in a way that made you laugh.

"It's just that we're like... uh..." you never found the right way to call it, you only knew how to describe it in your head. 'Almost something.'

"Friends with benefits?" Giselle asked.

"Uh… not exactly," you denied, "by the way, where is Ryujin?" You had to change the topic quickly, you couldn't stand that uncomfortable situation anymore, and you hadn't seen Ryujin since you greeted Ning and Minjeong.

"Right here, fools!" She appeared on the upper floor, her belly leaning against the glass railing, something that was quite dangerous considering that she had around 6 different glass bottles hugged to her body.

"Don't fucking do that!" You scolded her, "the railing will collapse from the weight of your big ass and the bottles will be ruined," the height of the second floor wasn't exactly very high, but it was high enough to cause an unpleasant situation.

"God how boring you are!" She disappeared from your sight and reappeared going down the stairs to the right of the wide pivoting door that led to the front of the house. It was closed at that moment.

"No, he's right, your big ass would cushion the fall, but not the bottles," Giselle said, as Ryujin placed the bottles on the table where Ning was sitting.

“Wherever my big ass fell your face would be there to cushion the fall, bitch,” Ryujin gave her the middle finger and stood next to you and Minjeong, “hey, can you go get the cooler?” She asked you, "It's in the room on the left. I would do it, but my poor little arms can't handle that much weight."

"Sure, but go look for that speaker you keep in your room, we should start warming up the engines."

"But that's also very heavy!" she complained.

"Then ask one of the girls for help and stop being a crybaby," you pulled her ear, and she squealed. Her foot almost stuck in your butt, but you quickly dodged the kick and went to look for the cooler.

The room Ryujin was talking about was just a corner away once you went outside, it was closed by a large sliding glass. You slid it to the right, docking it with the other glass panel to enter the room. The space was rather small compared to the previous one, there was only a comfortable looking sofa, a sound system and a wall-mounted TV. It seemed like the perfect place to take a long nap, but the huge cooler parked between the sofa and the surround painfully separated you from that desire. You grabbed it by the handle and went outside, dragging it easily thanks to its little wheels.

When you came back neither Ryujin nor Giselle were there. Minjeong, Ning and Jimin were sitting together on the couch, Jimin in the middle while the other two tried to make her feel comfortable. You left the cooler in the corner of the room that was close to the grass and the wall and went with the girls.

"Hey, do you want me to make you a drink?" The question was directed at the three of them.

"Tequila!" Ning exclaimed.

"Absolutely not, you know how you get with tequila," Ning rolled her eyes and snorted.

"Ugh, make it vodka then."

"You?" You looked at Minjeong.

"Same thing, honey, with grenadine," you nodded, and finally saw Jimin.

"Uh… no thanks, I don't..." she began.

"Huh? How not?" Ning said.

"I don't know, I don't usually drink, since I usually don't go to parties."

"That doesn't mean you can't do it with us here and now," Ning looked at you, "make her a drink with juice, not so strong. Or maybe with sparkling water?"

"N-No! Juice is fine, orange," nodded Jimin, who smiled at you.

"Roger, on the way!" you finished, as if you were their personal waiter.

You got to work quickly. Inside the cooler buried in ice were all the non-alcoholic drinks you needed, first you made Ning's drink just the way she liked it, vodka (Belvedere, you didn't know the price of that specific bottle) and lemon soda. You were going to make Minjeong's, but among all the drinks that were in there, curiously there was no grenadine, you didn't give it much importance, there would surely be a bottle in the kitchen, so you made Jimin's drink next. You took as a reference the amount of vodka you poured into Ning and Minjeong's glass and poured less into it, filling the rest with orange juice. You took both drinks and went to the girls.

"Here you go ladies," you handed Jimin and Ning their glasses, and then looked at Minjeong, "Honey, I'll go to the kitchen to get the grenadine, okay?"

"It's okay babe," she nodded, legs crossed and a patient look. Jimin laughed and Ning just took a sip of her drink.

"Babe?" Jimin asked, "and you're not a couple? Incredible," you just ran away from there.

You left the girls and went back inside the not at all modest house, heading towards the not at all modest kitchen. You were with your head down looking at your phone, so you didn't really pay attention to what was in front of you at any time, it was the sound of a familiar moan that made you look up. You were already in the kitchen, and you really couldn't believe your eyes.

The kitchen was divided into two almost equal areas that were separated by a sliding glass window that went from wall to wall, Ryujin was on the other side, bent over the island that served as both a trough and a sink, with Giselle kneeling on the floor, eating her pussy from behind. Ryujin's shorts were around her heels, both of Giselle's hands on her ass as she moaned louder and louder. The speaker you were talking about was close to them, black, tall and rectangular like a futuristic skyscraper. The poor thing had been forgotten by the horniness of the two girls.

As much as you wanted to stay enjoying such a scene, you didn't want to be a weirdo and you focused on doing what you were going to do. You walked stealthily towards one of the refrigerators, you were close to the wall, avoiding at all costs to enter Ryujin's range of vision (which was quite complicated considering that she was looking in the opposite direction and with her eyes closed). You opened the refrigerator, and your eyes quickly traveled from here to there in search of the grenadine. In the end you found it on the tray anchored to the door, you took it, you closed the refrigerator and with a loud moan from Ryujin in the background you disappeared from the kitchen.

When you returned to the outdoor room the girls were still on the couch, Jimin and Minjeong looking at Ning's phone screen. Minjeong noticed your presence and her face lit up when she saw the bottle of grenadine in your hand.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

“Oh, looking at our photos together,” Ning replied, showing you the screen. You blushed when you saw that it was a photo of the three of you naked in your bed under the covers. Apparently Ning had taken it while the two of you were still asleep.

"And do you think it's appropriate to show her that specific one?" You wrinkled your face.

"You look very cute!" Jimin said, "Oh, and... you have a nice back," there was a small awkward silence, no one expected her to say that.

"Well... you have nice legs, that makes us even," you laughed, and a blushing Jimin was left speechless, "anyway, I'll make you your drink, honey," you said to Minjeong, who just gave you a small kiss in the air and nodded.

You made Minjeong's drink in a matter of seconds, and when you finished you made your own too, with vodka, pepsi, and a touch of lemon juice. With both drinks in hand you went to sit next to Minjeong, and at that moment Ryujin and Giselle appeared carrying the speaker. Both of them looked intact and immaculate, as if a few minutes ago one wasn't feasting on the other's pussy.

"I hope you take it back upstairs later!" Ryujin said looking at you, you laughed at her face frowning from the physical effort. Finally they left the speaker on the grass and turned it on.

"Alright, but you'll bring the cooler," you took a sip of your drink, and took your phone out of your pocket to connect to the speaker since you were always in charge of the music.

"By then the ice will be melted and the bottles empty, easy peasy."

"Knowing you, you'll ask me for help again," Giselle laughed, looked into her eyes for a few seconds and went to sit on the single couch by the fireplace. Ryujin just played dumb.

"Hey you, are you going to play music or not?" she said to you as you looked down at your phone.

"Give me a second and shut up," you responded, and then you played Drake's Madiba Riddim. Ryujin turned up the volume on the speaker, now the music was flooding your ears.

"Oh gosh, now I need to get in the pool," Ning said and then took a sip from her half-empty drink, slightly moving her body to the rhythm of the music.

"Let's go then," Giselle said with a gesture toward the pool.

"Are you all coming?" Ning looked at you and then at Ryujin.

"Oh yeah, heat is starting to get unbearable," agreed Minjeong, who was drinking slowly and steadily.

"Well, I'm not a big fan of pools but I guess it will be fun," agreed Jimin, who had apparently loved her drink.

"I didn't even bring a swimsuit," you said with a sigh.

"Okay but are you an idiot or what?" Ning said.

"I didn't consider it necessary!"

"We are in the middle of summer, in a house with a pool and the sun above our heads, what the hell did you think was going to happen?"

"Well I'm sorry!"

"Sorry my ass, you're going to go in there with us naked if you have to!" Jimin raised both eyebrows and turned to look at Ning.

"In underwear."

"Deal!" Ning nodded with a smile, then looked at Ryujin, "what about you, bitch?"

"I sure could get inside naked, I bet you'd love that," she smiled, with nothing less than mischievous intentions, "Come on th-" her phone rang in her pocket and it interrupted her, it was a call which she reluctantly answered, "Hello mom... aha..." she entered the room and stared at nothing, "But I'm busy today! I told you a few days ago... can't Hyungmin go there?... Agh, fine, I'll go! I'll see you there... yeah, I love you too," she finally hung up, visibly angry.

"Everything is alright?" you asked worriedly.

"Yeah yeah," she nodded, put the phone in her pocket and took a few steps towards the hallway, "mom needs my help, checking the quality of the fabrics for this year's summer collection," you sighed.

"Rich people problems," you shook your head, "will you come back?"

"I honestly don't know," she scratched her temple, "but don't worry, no one will be coming here until next week," she took the house keys out of her pocket and handed them to you.

"Oh hell no, you can't leave me in charge of this whole place," you backed away, but she tossed the keys into your lap.

"Would you prefer that I leave Ning in charge?"

"Hey!" Ning claimed, and everyone but Ryujin and her laughed.

“Fuck, whatever,” you huffed.

"You already know this house, so I have my trust in you," she patted your cheek a few times, and then leaned over to give you a peck on the forehead, "have a good time and behave!" She started walking away, "Take good care of him, bitches, he's a diamond in the rough!" With that said, she disappeared from your sights without giving any of you time to say goodbye.

"Well, that was unexpected," Minjeong said.

"Aw, I wanted her to enter the pool naked," Ning lamented with a pout.

"What a slut..." Minjeong muttered.

"I wanted too..." Jimin murmured as well. You, Ning, and Minjeong looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "What?"

"A diamond in the rough huh?" Giselle asked, seeing you, getting up to grab a bottle of gin and walk towards the cooler, "Why is that? Can anyone tell me?"

"Well... he's cute, very attractive in fact, and so handsome," Minjeong said. You played dumb as much as you could while watching your liked songs on Spotify. You played Troye Sivan's Rush.

"And he's very kind, and nice, he always takes care of us," Ning had already finished her drink, and she extended it to you as if wanting you to do it again.

"Nope, get up and do it yourself, you know how," you replied, and Ning frowned.

"... And he has a big, juicy fucking cock," once again, another dead silence that was broken by Giselle's laughter. You could feel your whole face hot, you knew she had said it just to embarrass you as revenge for not making her the drink. Minjeong tried to hide her laughter as best she could, and Jimin was blushing too. Ning stood up with a small triumphant smile, took off her skirt, and once in her bikini she walked towards the pool.

"So you've fucked her?" Giselle teased as she finished making herself a drink with gin and Nordic Mist Blue tonic water.

"The three of us, actually, being high," Minjeong admitted, and you were dying of embarrassment. Giselle laughed.

"You didn't need to say that..." you mumbled, sinking into the seat.

"Did you have a foursome being high? Damn, I'm jealous," Giselle took a sip of her drink, left it on the table and started giving you, Jimin and Minjeong a mini show. She started by taking off her green cardigan, throwing it on the couch where she was sitting. She then took off her jean shorts, but making sure to turn her back to you to bend forward and slowly lower them down her long, meaty legs. As expected, she had one of the most amazing asses you had ever seen, and she knew it very well.

Once in her bikini, which revealed a rather modest amount of buttocks but still looked incredibly sexy in her, she grabbed her drink, and with her high-heeled sandals still on she walked towards the pool, your gaze, Minjeong's and Jimin's placed on her while she swayed her hips with each step.

"Damn… she's hot… and so confident," Jimin said with a small sigh.

"Yes, she is," Minjeong nodded, turning to look at the dark-haired woman, "but you have nothing to envy of her, look at you," Jimin looked down at her own body, as if she wanted to validate something that, under her perspective was not like that, "you have beautiful legs, a nice waist... hell, your face it’s like a piece of art."

"I… really?" Jimin pouted and fiddled with her fingers, "well... I don't know..."

"And it looks like you have some nice tits too," you almost spit out your drink, not expecting such a comment. You refrained from affirming.

"Oh," Jimin looked down again and saw her breasts, "do you think so?" Minjeong nodded.

"Come on, undress and let us see that pretty body," Minjeong said in a gentle tone of voice.

"Right here and now?" Jimin asked, giving you glances.

"You have to build that confidence, cutie," Minjeong raised a hand and tucked a strand of Jimin’s hair behind her ear, "go ahead."

“Okay…” Jimin gave you one last small glance and stood in front of the two of you. She was visibly nervous, not really knowing where to start or what to do. She began by removing the two sleeves that covered her arms, and next was the beach skirt that surrounded her waist. Now only the jean shorts remained, "Uhm… ugh, I hate this part."

"Let me give you a hand," Minjeong brought a hand to Jimin's shorts and she alone unbuttoned them with one deft movement. You remained completely silent, watching as she took a somewhat more dominant role in relation to someone even more subby than her. It was strange for you to see, but you found it incredibly hot.

“Fuck…” Jimin gasped, and you looked at her, “I mean, uhm…” she cleared her throat, “thank you…”

Finally she began to take off her shorts, her gaze darting between the two of you as she reached her hands to the curb and pulled them down to her ankles. Her pair of glowing legs stole the show, long, pale and well toned, perfect for kissing for hours on end. When she took her shorts off her ankles, she turned around with her sandals still on and let you see the back of her bikini bottom, which was tied to her waist with two knots and exposed an amount of buttocks that made your mouth water.

"And if all that wasn't enough, you have a round pretty ass," Minjeong said, and Jimin turned around with blushing cheeks. She looked at you, as if she was seeking your approval, but your gaze going up and down her statuesque body wasn't enough, she wanted you to tell her.

"Yeah, you're fucking hot, Jiminie," you nodded, looking at her flat, pretty belly, and then looking into her eyes.

"Go to the pool with the girls, okay? I need a moment with him," Minjeong requested, and Jimin looked at you both before nodding.

"I'll wait for you guys there..." Jimin bit her own lip, and she gave you one last lascivious look up and down before turning her back on you and walking out.

"Would you be so kind as to explain to me what that was?" you asked Minjeong once Jimin had walked away.

"What are you talking about?"

"You looked like a restrained version of Ryujin just now," you laughed, "I've never seen you act like that."

"She needed someone to give her a little push to embolden herself, and Ryujin isn't here."

"Well, know that I'm proud of you, darling," you reached behind her and wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her close to your body and giving her a soft kiss on the lips that she reciprocated with a small smirk.

"Did you like me?" The mischief in her tone let you know that she was looking to tease you.

"Oh yeah, fucking hot," you gave her another kiss, looking into her eyes from very close up, "I almost called you mommy, in fact," she let out a small laugh.

"Stop joking, silly," she nudged your chest and gave you another kiss, "help me undress, will you?"

"Completely? Damn, I'd be delighted."

"No, dummy, just the part that isn't my bikini."

"How boring," you faked a yawn, earning another small push in your chest. You laughed and put your hands on her.

You started with the top, which only consisted of the blue long-sleeved sweater, cropped enough to only cover part of her bikini top: a semi-transparent piece attached to the neck that wore a black bra underneath. As you took off her sweater you moved on to her skirt, which had a small button behind it that you just had to undo so that it fell to the floor. With Minjeong already in just her bikini, your hands went straight to her small, tight waist, and you rubbed her pretty tummy with the palm of your hand a couple of times.

"Mmm… you obviously missed me, didn't you?" she teased, patiently unbuttoning your shirt.

"I didn't want it to be so noticeable. Is it new?" you asked, stretching one side of the hem of her bikini bottom and giving her waist a harmless little whip.

"Yup, it is, do you like it?" She took off your shirt, and holding it in her hand, she turned around so you could see her back. Your gaze went to her ass and her lower back, two parts of her that drove you crazy.

"Don't tease me here, Kim Minjeong," you gave her a little spank and turned her around, "go ahead, we agreed that I would go into the pool in my underwear," you pointed at your shorts with your eyes.

"Don't make me suck your cock here," she warned with a little smile, then she unzipped your shorts and got on her knees, pulling them down to your ankles. You took off your shoes, your socks and took your shorts off your feet.

"Well, it seems like you want to do it of your own free will," you looked down at her, and she put her hands on the sides of your thighs as she looked into your eyes, her face inches from your bulge.

"I want to do it, and I'm very tempted to do it right now," her fingers carefully gripped your thighs and her face moved closer to your crotch, "but you'll have to be patient until things get hotter over here..." She gave your cock a small kiss over the fabric, and with a mischievous smile she stood up, "good luck with that boner when you come with us."

You stood with your mouth half open, watching as Minjeong walked past you and went to the pool with the girls. Your bulge grew and grew, until you had a full boner which you painfully had to wait for to pass so you could go with them. They had all tied their hair in high buns, Ning was already inside the pool with Jimin and Giselle, the last two with their drinks in their hands and the water up to their chests. Minjeong was sitting on one of the steps in the shallow area of the pool, apparently waiting for you. Her drink was next to her, you were afraid she would accidentally spill it in the pool water, but you didn't say anything.

"Damn, I didn't know you were armed," Giselle said looking at your crotch, where the bulge from a moment ago still hadn't completely softened. You sighed, knowing you had a long day ahead of you. Ning didn't mind at all, she had seen you naked many times before, but Jimin's eyes, lacking discretion, didn't leave you for a second.

"And you haven't seen it hard," Ning laughed, sipping from Jimin's drink.

"Yet," Giselle said, you raised both eyebrows, turning to look at her.

"You sound very confident, mean girl," you sat next to Minjeong and took a sip of your drink, the ice had already melted, so it had slightly lost its flavor.

"I don't think it's wise to provoke her..." Minjeong murmured next to you, but you ignored it.

"Well you shouldn't challenge me," she began to speak to you in English, and everyone except Ning, who you knew had knowledge of the language, looked confused, "in fact, I would love to see it hard right now," Giselle said, looking at your eyes.

"I'm sorry but if you want that to happen you have to do something about it," you replied back in English, Giselle laughed.

"I'm not laying a single finger on you, Casanova," she moved back and leaned her back against the pool wall, leaving her glass on the edge of it.

"What are they saying?" you heard Jimin ask Minjeong.

"I have no idea," she replied.

"Then you'll just have to endure the urge," you were about to enter the water when Giselle played a dirty trick. She turned and put her hands on the edge of the pool, pushed herself up and purposely left her abdomen pressed against the edge to give you a perfect view of her fleshy wet body from behind, her ass and legs stealing all your attention.

"Uhh, you just killed him," Ning said, looking at your idiotic face as you looked at Giselle's ass, who was smiling from ear to ear.

"Well, that's definitely some bubble butt," Minjeong highlighted, also looking at Giselle's ass until she sat on the edge of the pool.

"So I'll have to endure the urge, huh?" Giselle asked, looking at your crotch. You looked down, finding a bulge harder than a rock, perfectly marked through the fabric of the boxer. All of them were looking at your cock, including Jimin, whose cheeks were red. She quickly tried to hide the look.

"Bloody hell..." you muttered to yourself, leaving your glass next to Minjeong and entering the water to hide your erection.

"Hey, wait for me!" Minjeong said behind your back, when you were already covered in water up to your chest. You turned to see how she left your glasses on the edge of the pool to get in with you.

"Ning wasn't wrong, that thing is massive," Giselle said a few meters away from you, as Ning swam towards you and Minjeong clung to your torso from behind. Jimin was now in a shallower area, calmly drinking the last of her drink. At that moment Scream & Shout by will.i.am and Britney Spears started playing.

"And you have no idea how it feels having him inside," Ning said, vibing to the music with her arms raised. You wanted to drown at that precise moment.

"If you want to fuck him you just have to go inside and get a room, you know?" Jimin said back in the pool, she was swimming on her back.

"Oh, why do you say that? Wanna join?" Ning teased with a giggle. Jimin made a small silence.

"Shut up," she finally said, and continued swimming.

"Can we stop talking about me for a second?" you asked, "anyone would think you were desperate for cock."

"If you only knew how long I haven't had a decent cock," Giselle said, returning to Korean.

"See? Now that's an interesting topic of conversation," you swam back and forth, Minjeong holding onto you.

"All the guys I've been with have been small-cocked losers," Giselle said, crossing one thigh over the other, "And I've laughed in each one of them’s face."

"No formal boyfriend huh?" you asked.

"Not really, just a couple, one went pretty well for about a year and the other cheated on me with a Malaysian whore."

"Fuck, that sucks," you looked at Ning, "and what about you?"

"I haven't had a formal boyfriend since high school, if that can be considered a formal boyfriend. It's too much of a commitment for me."

"What a weird way to say you're a slut," said Minjeong, who had her chin resting on your shoulder. Ning splashed water on her face with her fingers, and consequently on you too, so you two did the same to her.

"Ahhhh! My hair!" She screamed, turning her face away and covering herself with her hand.

"Minjeongie looks like a fairytale princess, I bet she had a lot of suitors," Giselle said, and Minjeong sighed.

"Fuck, I wish. I was very quiet and introverted, I hated parties and people. Nobody would want to be with a girl like that."

“You say it like something has changed,” Ning laughed, and Minjeong splashed more water on her.

"And what about you, cutie?" Jimin was so distracted in her own bubble that she didn't realize that Giselle was talking to her.

"Huh?" She stopped hanging around the pool and went to a not so deep area where the water reached below the chest and allowed everyone to see her more than considerable tits marked by the wet fabric, "Are you talking to me?"

"No, I'm actually talking to the pool tile," Giselle replied sarcastically.

"Uh... well, I never gave boys a second thought, honestly," she adjusted her bikini top, hypnotizing you with the weight of her tits, "I've been so focused on my career that I haven't even stopped to think about whether I like someone or I don't."

"But hasn't there been any guy who hit on you?" you asked.

"I have no idea, I don't pay attention to them," she bent her knees and covered herself in water up to her chest, "none have been charming enough to be worth my time."

"And what do you think of our little Peaky Blinder friend over there?" Giselle pointed at you with her gaze, "you haven't stopped seeing him all day," once again, Jimin's cheeks lit up like two emergency lights.

"Uh... I think I'll go inside, I'm thirsty," Jimin said, standing up to get out of the pool as quickly as she could. You laughed, as did Minjeong behind you.

"Me too! Wait for me!" Ning said, swimming towards the edge of the pool to get out.

"I'm fine here, but I don't want to be a third wheel," Giselle laughed, looking at you and Minjeong, then she stood up, walked around the pool and went with the girls, leaving you both alone.

"Fuck, you're a hunk, aren't you?" Minjeong teased you once Giselle walked away too, rubbing your chest with both hands. You turned around and found her small face inches from yours.

"I literally haven't done anything," you wrapped both arms around her body, and she raised her legs to wrap them around your torso, "it's not my fault I'm this handsome."

"Ahhh!" she screeched, "Oh my god, how arrogant!" She let out a few laughs, and hugged your neck with her arms.

"I don't see you denying it either."

"Of course not, I said it myself a few minutes ago," she began to give you small kisses on your cheeks, "I wish I didn't have to share you today..." more kisses, this time on your chin and neck.

"What are you talking about?" You caressed her lower back with both hands, and she pressed her thighs harder to the sides of your torso.

"Oh come on, let's be real," she looked into your eyes, "by the end of the day you'll have fucked us all, it's a matter of time."

"Giselle is a tough nut to crack, and Jimin... well, she doesn't seem like the one to take the initiative."

"Nonsense, they both want you, I see it in her eyes."

"How about you?" You gave her a small kiss, and began to return the kisses she had given you a few seconds ago, "do you want me?" you murmured in her ear, and she shuddered.

"I always want you..." she gasped while her neck was marked with kisses and hickeys, "and it's been a while since I felt you inside me."

"Well… no one's watching us," your hands went to her tight ass. She pressed her pelvis forward, rubbing your crotches, "and from there you can't see anything that happens under the water."

"Fuck..." Her fingers stroked the hair on the back of your neck as you continued kissing her neck and her right shoulder. Your two hands massaging her buttocks, "Are you crazy?"

"You didn't say the same thing when you put my cock inside you with Ning asleep next to us..." you put one of your hands inside her bikini bottom, you squeezed her buttock, ran your fingers down her butthole and reached her pussy to rub her folds. She moaned.

“It was different that time…” her fingers clutched at your scalp. You stuck your middle finger inside her, and she pursed her lips to stifle a louder moan.

"It wasn't different at all..." you brought your hand out from behind her to now shove it down the front of her bikini bottom, now rubbing your fingers along her slit "don't think too much, just tell me yes or no," you rubbed her clit in circles slowly, so she didn't manage to formulate a response until seconds later.

"I..." Her heavy gasps had her eyes closed and her fingers pulling at your hair, "Shit, yes. Fuck me, quick."

You wasted no time and quickly pulled your boxers down to mid-thighs, releasing your hard cock underwater. You put an arm around Minjeong's waist and lifted her just a little, using your free hand to push her bikini bottoms to the side. With her pussy now exposed you crashed your lips into hers, took your cock in your left hand and rubbed it a few times between her folds before pressing her down, taking the first few inches inside.

The loud moan Minjeong let out when she felt your cock halfway inside her was muffled against your lips. Her arms tightened around your neck, but her legs loosened on either side of your torso so you could move her easily. You were quite patient since there wasn't enough lubrication under the water, it took a few seconds, but you finally managed to get more than half of your cock inside her tight pussy, not completely like it used to be, but enough to make it pleasurable for both.

With two hands on her ass you began to move her up and down, your cock sliding more and more easily in and out of her. Her moans became harder to contain with each pump, but you realized that the music was so loud that any sound you made wouldn't reach the girl's ears, so you parted your lips and focused on her neck. The water didn't allow you to make her move as fast as you would have liked, but you did your best to manipulate her small body to your complete whim. Now Minjeong was moaning and whimpering just inches from your face, with free rein to do so thanks to Lil Wayne's voice in A Milli.

You squeezed both of her buttocks for a few seconds during which you bit and kissed her neck. She removed her arms from around your neck and cupped your face in her hands to kiss you again for a few short seconds. When you separated again you realized that her face was completely distorted by pleasure, mouth half open, cheeks red and eyebrows raised, anyone who saw her at that moment (if they hadn't already) was going to be able to catch you easily, so you resorted to a safe measure: turn your back on the house so you could cover her.

From that position you had one of the pool walls in front of you. You stopped moving her on your cock and took a few steps forward, the water covering you up to her shoulders and Minjeong up to her neck. You leaned her against her tiles, and grabbing the back of her knees you spread her legs wide open to start fucking her as fast as you could.

"Oh my fucking god how does this feel so good?!" she squealed, leaning her neck against the edge of the pool.

"Adrenaline maybe?" you teased, attacking her long, inviting neck with more kisses, your cock sliding smoothly in and out of Minjeong's increasingly tight pussy.

"I don't know but don't you dare stop!" Having said that, you took out your cock, let go of her legs and grabbed her waist to turn her around. She grabbed the edge of the pool with both hands and turned to look at you with a sexy look, and you grabbed the edge of her bikini bottom to lower it to her thighs. With her ass now completely exposed, you placed one hand on her waist and with the other guided your cock inside her once more, "Ohhh ffffuck!" she moaned when you started fucking her from behind.

From that position you made sure to feel Minjeong as much as possible, running your hands all over her tight, soft body as you pumped your hips back and forth. It was a pity that you couldn't grab and massage her tits at that moment, but you did run your hand over her flat abdomen multiple times, then move to her waist and from there lower your hands down her hips, reach her inner thighs, caress them for a moment before wrapping your left arm around her lower body and with your free hand rub her clit quickly. The song changed, now playing The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson. Good timing.

Minjeong soon began to shake in your arms, both stimuli taking her downhill in a snowball that led to an intense orgasm that made her bite her forearm between squeals and intense moans. Her pussy walls tightened around your cock, a sensation that also brought you to a pleasurable orgasm that shook every fiber of your body. You pushed forward hard, and with your face buried in Minjeong's neck your load began to shoot into her pussy. She turned her face and your lips met once more, muffled moans from each side as she continued to be gripped by her orgasm and you continued to pour out streams of cum one after the other. A few seconds passed before you stopped pumping your hips and her orgasm was over.

"It wasn't that bad huh?" You murmured in her ear, slowly pulling your cock out of her pussy to let your load spill out into the water.

"That was amazing..." she sighed, seeking your lips to share a brief kiss with you, "but please, next time let's do it with no one around who can see us," you turned your head to look towards the house. The girls weren't even remotely aware of what you were doing, they were playing around while talking, laughing and drinking.

"Believe me, they are in their own bubble, they don't care what we do," being a gentleman you pulled Minjeong's bikini bottoms back up. You also pulled up your boxers.

"But it makes me anxious, silly," she turned around, wrapped her arms around your neck and gave you another kiss, "can I say something cheesy?"

“You're going to say it anyway, so go ahead,” you nodded, and what was going to come out of Minjeong's mouth was going to completely blow you away.

"I love you," she said close to your lips, in a small voice that you could barely hear. Her pretty eyes looked at you nervously, like it was something she wasn't sure whether to say or not. You were paralyzed for a few seconds.

"Do you love me? I mean, are you serious?" You didn't mean to doubt her, but you had to make sure you hadn't heard wrong.

"Yeah, darling, I love you," she stated again with the same small, tender voice, only this time you did process the information.

"I... love you too," you stared into her eyes, two bright orbs full of affection towards you, "hell, do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Minjeong smiled from ear to ear, and her cheeks turned red.

"That'd be cute," she nodded, and once again kissed you. This time your lips danced in sweet love harmony, Minjeong's hands cradling your face while her thumbs gently caressed your cheekbones. Your hands went to her waist, to press her body against yours and hug her tightly.

"Alright, too cheesy for now," you murmured after pulling away from her lips, and you both laughed, "come on, let's go out, I'm going to get too wrinkled."

She nodded and turned around to rest her hands on the edge of the pool, you helped her and pushed her up so she could get out easily. Once outside you followed her, and walked hand in hand back to the house, faces calm as if you hadn't left a stream of cum flowing freely through the pool.

"Damn, you're finally back!" Ning exclaimed as she saw you enter the shadow of the room. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a bottle of vodka in her hand. The three of them were still in only their bikini, now with their hair down and looking even hotter, "we were about to start a round of shots."

"Already?" you asked, looking everywhere for your shorts, "and where the fuck are my clothes?"

"I saved it for you, casanova," Giselle said, sitting on Jimin's lap, who was sitting on one of the single couches, "I don't think you're going to need it, are you? We're all half naked at this point, so that would not be supportive on your part."

"Fuck, they're really playing dirty with you," Minjeong laughed after letting go of your hand. She patted your shoulder and went to sit with Ning on the couch.

"You allowed this?" you looked at Jimin, who quickly avoided your gaze.

"She very much agreed," Ning said with a laugh, leaning down to grab a shot glass and fill it with vodka, "who will go first?" You noticed out of the corner of your eye how Giselle took the remote control of the speaker and turned up the music even more volume. Cash in Cash Out by Pharell Williams breaking down the bass.

"Give it to me," Minjeong leaned forward and took the shot glass from Ning's hand to drink the entire shot.

"Oh shit, it seems like someone is more cheerful than usual," Ning looked you up and down with a mischievous look, "you had work to do huh?" she laughed.

"I won't comment on it," you denied, sitting next to Minjeong.

"Alright, come here, Jiminie," Ning stood up with the small glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. She walked to stand next to Giselle and Jimin.

"Uh… don't you think that's too much for me?" Jimin asked with a worried tone as she looked at her.

"Do you feel dizzy right now? Even slightly different?"

"Well... my body feels hot, not exactly because of the heat, or because..."

"Say no more, you're perfect, drink," Ning poured the vodka into the glass and gently grabbed Jimin by the chin, "open that mouth, sweetie," Jimin did so, but instead of doing it like any other person would, she stuck out her tongue as if she were going to receive something else. You couldn't take your eyes off for a single second while Ning poured the vodka in a trickle on Jimin's tongue, and she swallowed every drop until there was no more left.

"Fuck girl, you're hotter than you think," Giselle said, also staring at Jimin, who close her mouth and wiped a few droplets of vodka off her chin with the back of her hand.

"So you think?" Jimin asked, looking at her.

"That tongue of yours is sexy as fuck," Giselle nodded, "I even want to taste it."

“Do it then,” Ning, you and Minjeong looked at each other with your eyebrows raised in shock. Now that was a big step. Even Giselle looked a little surprised.

"Are you sure?" Giselle asked.

"For God's sake, just kiss me," Giselle didn't hesitate twice to grab her face with both hands and do what she asked. The first thing that stood out from the beginning was the use of both tongues during the kiss, an incredibly hot scene that had the three of you surprised by how Jimin performed. It was obvious that Giselle was the one in control, but both tongues were entwined with equal passions.

"Mother of God," Ning put her hand over her mouth, incredulous at the intense make out session Jimin and Giselle were having. You had to look towards the pool to avoid getting another boner.

"Oh no, you're watching this with me," Minjeong said. She grabbed your chin and forced you to look back at the girls as they kissed. As expected, the lewd scene caused arousal to grow in you, and consequently, your cock to get hard under your boxers.

"You hate me, don't you?" You quickly took a cushion from behind your back and covered your crotch with it. Seconds later, Jimin and Giselle separated.

"Fuck," Giselle gasped, wiping some saliva off her chin with the back of her hand, "who knew you could kiss so well?"

"I do?" Jimin asked. Her genuine innocence made you exchange an incredulous look with Ning.

"Girl, it's one of the best kisses I've ever had in my life," Giselle looked at Ning, and then at you and Minjeong, "we gave you a good show huh?"

"He's covering his crotch with a cushion," Ning pointed out, "guess why," you looked at her, wanting to kick her ass.

"Rock hard again?" giggled Giselle.

"He's just a man, what do you expect," Minjeong said dismissively, but you knew she was just teasing you.

"Hey, we already gave you a show, why don't you give us a show?" Giselle said, raising an eyebrow.

"We're not going to fuck in front of you," you stepped forward.

"Yet."

"Three way kiss," Jimin interjected, and Giselle looked at her.

"You're not as innocent as you seem, are you?"

"I'm not going to comment on how many erotic books and manhwas I've read."

"I don't need to know either," Giselle now looked at you, "you heard our little nerd, kiss."

Ning, who subconsciously always sought your approval for everything, turned to look at you.

"Give her the shot first," you pointed your finger at the bottle, "and then me."

"If those are the conditions you're making it too easy for me boy," Giselle took the bottle from Ning's hand and brought it to her mouth to drink directly from it.

"You set the bar too low, what a fool," Minjeong said from beside you.

"Shut your mouth," you replied, watching as Giselle stood up with the bottle in her hand and walked straight towards you.

"Come on, pretty boy, have a drink," she shook the bottle in front of your nose. You reluctantly took it and in an imitation of Giselle you drank from it, "Thaaat's it," she took the bottle from you, "Alright, what are you waiting for?"

Ning didn't even have to ask your permission to walk over to you, remove the cushion from your crotch, and straddle your lap. The rubbing of your crotches over the thin fabrics made you hold your breath, as you could feel her folds pressing against you. You didn't even have time to think about it when Minjeong knelt to your left and put her face between the two of you, Ning did the same, and soon your lips were together.

Strangely, you had never tried to do something like that before, so it was a little difficult to find the rhythm and the right way to do it, but it was a matter of seconds before the three of you finally reached a point of comfort in which your lips crashed in perfect synchrony. Naturally the tongues got into the action, and so did the touching.

You surrounded the waists of both girls with your arms, and pressed them firmly towards your body to feel their heavy breathing and hot bodies. Unconsciously small moans were also present, and you could notice a subtle movement in Ning's hips above you.

"Unnie, make them stop, I'm getting..." you heard Jimin say.

"Are you kidding? This is only getting better," she replied.

"No, seriously, I need them to stop..."

"Ugh fine," Giselle gave Ning a little shake by the shoulder, "Hey, that's enough."

If it weren't for Giselle's intervention, the three of you would have continued to a point of no return. The bubble in which you were enclosed was so thick that when you separated from the kiss, the three of you were slightly disoriented, and of course, you had a painfully hard boner.

"Honey, would you get off of me? I don't think it's time to fuck you yet," you told Ning, and she obeyed without saying a single word, knowing that sooner or later she'll have her piece of cake. She sat down next to you and crossed her legs immediately.

"I... I need to go to the bathroom, but this is my first time coming to this house," Jimin said, "could someone uh… come with me?"

"I'll go," you jumped in immediately, not willing to waste a clear shot. You glanced at Minjeong, who was trying to hide her proud little smile. Jimin looked surprised, she didn't expect you to be the first volunteer.

"O-okay," she nodded, and then stood up to wait for you in the hallway.

"Don't drain him too much!" Ning said to Jimin as you stood next to her. Jimin's cheeks flushed red, and you had to put your hand on her back to get her to walk forward.

"Don't pay attention to her, she usually makes those kinds of jokes," you said, walking side by side with Jimin.

"The jokes aren't the problem," she continued to avoid your gaze as much as possible, instead looking around her, "the problem is that..."

"Is that?" you asked, noticing that she didn't finish the sentence.

"Nothing, I'm not going to say it," she said, as you stopped in the middle of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. You stared at her, "what?"

"You don't really need to go to the bathroom, do you?" you asked, and noticed a hint of panic in her eyes.

"Huh? O-Of course I do!" She feigned annoyance, but your eyes didn't lie to you.

"Then explain that to me," you made a small gesture with your finger towards her crotch. Her bikini bottom had a small stain on it, one that she certainly hadn't realized was there judging by her shocked eyes.

"Oh my god!" she screamed, and was about to run away if you hadn't grabbed her wrist.

"Hey, just be honest with me."

"About what?" You pulled her towards you, planting her inches from your face but without making physical contact with her body.

"Tell me, you want me to help you with that, don't you?" Jimin remained silent at your sudden advance, but when she looked down and saw your bulge kept in your boxers, her face changed.

"Ever since I saw your boner in the pool I haven't stopped thinking about how I want to have you inside me," her lips parted and for the first time all day she held eye contact with you for more than five seconds.

"I know you're not a pure thoughts innocent girl, so say it," you murmured. Jimin was silent again for a few seconds, but in the midst of her silence she reached for her neck with her free hand and untied the knot that held her bikini top to it, thus releasing a pair of nice, big tits that made your mouth water.

"Fuck me daddy..." her tiny, seductive tone of voice vibrated in your ears, "grant me the privilege of being able to have that big, juicy cock inside my needy pussy."

The sudden change in her personality caused mixed feelings in you, on the one hand you didn't know if that side was natural for her or it was just due to the body heat that the alcohol caused in her, but on the other she was driving you completely crazy. You didn't even know where to start, so you just did what any decent man could do at the time. You kissed her with all your might.

Giselle wasn't wrong about her. She was an excellent kisser, you confirmed this as you wrapped your arms around her waist and moved your hands up and down her bare back. Her skin felt creamy and soft under your fingertips. You hugged her against you, her tits crushing against your chest and her pretty stomach pressed against yours. She wrapped her arms around your neck, but her hands didn't stay still for long either. Jimin cupped your face first, letting out small moans against your mouth as you squeezed her ass and held her waist tightly. Then her hands went down your chest, one of them stayed on your waist, and the other went down to your hard cock to massage it over your boxers.

You slowly pushed her back, resting her lower back against the edge of the long floating cabinet. With a small lift of her you sat her up on the polished wood of her, and you got between her wide open legs to separate yourself from her lips and concentrate now on her long neck. Jimin brought a hand to the back of your head and tangled her fingers in your hair, she leaned her head and shoulders against the wall, and with her free hand she groped your cock inside your boxers, small moans coming out of her mouth as you filled her neck with kisses and bites.

"Baby wants me to suck her tits or eat her pussy?" you said against her neck, then you moved your kisses up to her jaw, and then back down to her shoulders.

"Why not both, daddy?" Jimin asked amidst cute moans.

"Do you want both?" You went up to her lips and gave her little kisses, then to her cheeks and her chin.

"Yes daddy please..." she gasped, gently stroking your cock underneath your boxers, "and I want to suck your cock too, will you let me?"

"Are you needy for daddy's cock, baby?" You teased, you lowered your kisses again, this time to her collarbone and the space between her two tits.

"Yes daddy... very very needy," she responded with her breathing becoming more labored, "I'm a good girl, I promise."

"First let daddy spoil you, then you can show me what a good girl you are..." you moved a few inches to the left, and she held her breath before you took most part of her tit into your mouth.

Jimin moaned in a sweet tone to your ears, both of her hands now on your shoulders. You started with slow and sensual sucks on her nipple, adding licks in circles around it and kisses on her spongy flesh. You repeated the same thing on the other side, and in no time you became addicted to her pair of pretty breasts.

You spent a couple of minutes just on her tits, but it could have been more if it weren't for the need you had to also eat her pussy, so you gave her mounds a couple more licks and sucks before moving down with your mouth through her abdomen. Her tummy was pure perfection for you, it was slightly toned, but it still retained that fleshiness that drove you so crazy about a girl. Her skin was creamy soft, and despite having recently been in a pool there was still a faint scent of body cream left. You finally reached her lower abdomen, just inches from her pube.

"Daddy wants me to take it off for him?" Jimin asked with a moan as she looked down at you, gripping her fingers at both knots on either side of her hips.

"Go ahead baby, daddy wants to see that pretty pussy," you nodded, kneeling to place small kisses on the inside of her thighs. Jimin acted quickly, and within seconds she untied the knots. With her bikini bottom now loose from her hips she only had to lift her hips and yank it off.

"Do you like it, daddy? It's wet and warm for you…" Jimin's pussy was now exposed just inches from your face, she brought two fingers to it, rubbing them up and down across her glistening folds.

"I fucking love it sweetie," certainly her pussy was like a work of art, but in this case, more of a gourmet dish which you didn't think not to taste.

You placed both hands on the back of her thighs and pulled them back, holding her legs wide open to have her pussy at better disposal. You didn't think it was right to make her wait too long, so you avoided foreplay and went straight to the action. You brought your face closer slowly, eyes on her at all times, stuck out your tongue, and she held her breath as you planted it flat right between her folds. You slowly licked upwards, and Jimin finally let out a long moan that was music to your ears.

Her pussy was wetter than it appeared on the surface, adding a softness and flavor that was immediately addictive. You began to use your tongue calmly and gently, making sure she felt every tiny movement before you started eating her out like a hungry dog. You licked every fold of hers, her clit, and every corner of her slit. That was enough to surprisingly make her cum.

"I'm sorry, daddy!" she moaned, shaking between small moans, "I was so needy, but keep going, overstimulate me, I'll be a good girl!"

If she said so, you had no problem satisfying her desires. You didn't wait for her body to stop shuddering before you began to really eat her out, kissing, sucking and licking between her folds. Jimin squealed, sometimes more similar to a moan and other times more like a whimper, but she didn't stop shaking off of her at any time, you had to hold her by her waist so she wouldn't fall.

You focused on her clit, quick, sharp licks with the tip of your tongue. Jimin gripped the edge of the cabinet with weak fingers, her hips shaking like hell and her breathing extremely labored. Her fluids kept leaking between her folds, but you soaked up every little drop of it as if your life depended on it. You were grateful that where the girls were, the music was so loud that it was impossible to hear anything that was in another room, because you had rarely heard a girl moan as loudly as Jimin did at that moment.

It didn't take long for her to reach another orgasm, but that didn't stop you from continuing. Jimin writhed and trembled as if she were being exorcized. She really scared you for a few seconds, but after a few seconds you confirmed that she was just in a fierce tide of pleasure. No moans came out of her mouth, only muffled sounds and heavy gasps. Her eyes were blank, rolled back thanks to the impeccable work of your mouth. She closed her legs around your head, both of her creamy soft thighs pressed against your cheeks as you continued to eat her out furiously. At that point your jaw and your tongue were equally tired, and you could no longer double your efforts, but you could give one last effort to make her cum for the third time in a row.

"OH FUCKKKK!!!" Her primal scream echoed throughout the room and nearly burst your eardrums. Her hands went to your head, nails digging into your scalp in the midst of intense spasms. She had no idea how much force she used, so it was painful for you, but seeing the tears pool in her eyes and then fall from them down her cheeks made it totally worth it. Her pussy was dripping to the point of soaking her buttocks and the wood under her ass, and her body couldn't stop shaking and shuddering.

"Did my little baby enjoy it?" you asked, her trembling thighs still crushing your head.

"C-c..." her voice hung by a thread, so low that you could barely hear it, "C-cock... i-in m... my mouth..." she loosened her thighs, and now blood was circulating normally to your brain.

"You're completely destroyed and you still want to please daddy?" you asked, standing up again. She only nodded weakly, "You really are a very good girl..." as soon as you cupped her face she sought your lips, you noticed that it was difficult for her to move so you leaned forward to kiss her for a few long seconds, "Come on, let's find something more comfortable."

You grabbed Jimin by her waist and carefully lowered her from the cabinet. As expected she couldn't even stand up, so you had to carry her in your arms. You turned around and walked between two individual armchairs, having on your right the large white leather sofa that you would lay Jimin on. You placed one of the four cushions behind her head and another on her feet. Sunlight filtered in from the left thanks to the large sliding window that ran from wall to wall. You could just press a button and have all the blinds close, but knowing that the girls were only a few meters away and that they could see you at any moment if they went out to the pool gave you a certain shot of adrenaline that made everything more pleasant.

With Jimin now lying on the couch you stood next to her and pulled down your boxers, revealing your erect and throbbing cock just above her eyes, which shone like two sea pearls at the sight of your entire length.

"Oh god... it's so big," Jimin said, slowly catching her breath, "put it..." she had to pause, "put it in my mouth, please..."

You knelt down, your crotch now level with Jimin's face. You took your cock in one hand, Jimin turned her face towards you, and you slowly brought your tip closer to her parted lips. She thought you would put it inside right away, but her attractive lips made you first rub against them a few times, tracing the outline until you let her take you inside her mouth.

At first you had to help her with a hand on the back of her head since she was still a little weak, but less than a minute passed when she rolled onto her side, rested her elbow on the couch and started pumping her head back and forth. Her pretty lips felt like pure velvet on your cock, and to your not-so-surprising surprise, she knew how to use them more than well. You placed a hand on one of her tits and squeezed it gently, gasping at the continuous movement of her mouth which as the seconds passed took more of you inside her.

"You suck daddy's cock so well baby..." you gasped, caressing the side of her face with your hand and tucking her hair behind her ear. Her slurping sounds were driving you crazy, and if that weren't enough she showed she had a rather non-existent gag reflex that she took advantage of to take you straight down her throat. Her nose rested against your pubic bone, and her big, bright eyes looked up at you, "Oh my god! Ugh! How do you know how to do that?" you groaned.

"I'd rather not tell you daddy..." she grabbed your cock by the base and gave it a few long, sensual sucks, "just let your baby please you."

"You can do whatever you want with daddy's cock," you bit your lip, your breathing heavy thanks to the precise and pleasurable pumping of Jimin's head. She was not only excellent at kissing, but also at sucking cock, and you just wondered what other surprises that girl was hiding.

You let her continue doing her job, and she certainly did wonders for your piece of meat inside her mouth. The way she used her tongue on the back of your cock and her way of taking advantage of the softness of her lips was going to lead you to ruin soon, but you didn't want to cum yet, not before giving her what she craved so much, so you stopped her. She looked at you with worried eyes.

"I thought I was doing a good job daddy..." she said.

"Indeed you were, but daddy needs to be inside that pussy as soon as possible," Jimin's eyes lit up again, "do you feel okay to go?"

"Yeah!" she nodded immediately, "please fuck me daddy, I need it so much!"

"How do you want me to do it?" You gave her a kiss on her lips, then another on her forehead.

"Anyway you like, daddy," she kissed you back, "but I can't be up... you know why."

“No problem, daddy will take care of you,” the couch was thick enough for you both to fit comfortably, so you got to work.

You stood up and the first thing Jimin instinctively did was pick up her legs, holding them both with her arms behind her knees, pressing them against her body and already giving you a perfect position in which you could fuck her. You climbed onto the couch and knelt in front of her, your cock was already well lubricated by Jimin's saliva, so you only had to rub yourself between her folds a few times before pressing your hips forward, letting her pussy slowly engulf your length.

"Mmmmgh!" Jimin covered her mouth and stifled a scream against it (you didn't really understand why, natural instinct, you assumed), "Be careful daddy!" she moaned when your cock was halfway down.

"It hurts?" you asked, tempted to just push down and go all the way in.

"A little... I've never had something that big inside me," she admitted, you noticed a slight reddish blush on her cheeks.

"Not even a dildo?" You pushed as slowly as you could, each time gaining more inches.

"Impossible, I almost never have privacy at home... mmm fuck!!" Finally you took your entire cock inside her pussy, you gasped as you felt the warmth, and how her velvety walls made you shiver.

"Then relax and let daddy make you enjoy the experience..." once fully inside her you slumped forward between Jimin's legs. Her tits pressed against your chest, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around your body. You began to move slowly, attentive to every tiny twist in the girl's face. Your movements were long, slow and sensual, she loved that, you noticed it in how her eyebrows arched, her breathing became heavy and her eyes rolled back.

“Oh fuck daddy… just make love to me, please,” she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you into a loving kiss, filled with moans and heavy pants.

No more words left your mouth (it's not like she'd let you anyway), you just moved your hips back and forth, making sure every movement was as satisfying as possible for both her and you. Soon you stopped concentrating so much on doing well and just let yourself go. Your hands ran all over Jimin's body, her tits served as gripping points for long seconds, you squeezed, massaged and played with her nipples. Jimin’s thighs gripped your lats, flesh pressing against flesh from absolutely every inch. Jimin caressed your back, moan after moan muffled in a kiss you never wanted to get out of.

You didn't start moving faster, but you did start moving harder. Your cock slid all the way in and all the way out with each thrust, shaking Jimin's slightly sweaty body beneath you. She arched her back in pleasure and consequently separated from your lips, you took advantage of that to kiss her neck once again. While you left little marks on her pale skin she tangled her fingers between strands of your hair and gave you little tugs towards her. You exhaled your hot breath against her neck, and came up to moan into her ear. She filled the side of your face with kisses, and you sought her lips once more.

Inevitably your instincts led you to want to move faster, and so you did, but not wanting to fail to comply with her request, you did so in a moderate manner, maintaining the same level of force but slightly increasing the revolutions per second. Jimin's entire body appreciated this, her calves and heels digging into your back, and now more than ever you were as close as two bodies could be to each other.

"Daddy..." she gasped, her face red and her eyes weak, "I'm going to cum on your cock daddy... mmmgh!" As her moans reached her peak until now you raised your head a little to remove her arms from around it. You took her two hands and intertwined your fingers to put them on the armband behind her head.

"Cum for daddy then... one more time, come on," you stared at her, fucking her just the way she wanted to bring her to an imminent fourth orgasm. After a few seconds she finally exploded around your cock. You felt her pussy and your cock considerably wetter, and as she writhed between moans and spasms you noticed that she had squirted (also staining a sofa whose high price you were unaware of). Another surprise that came out of Pandora's box.

"Don't stop daddy... mmghhh! I want your cum!" she managed to say as her legs now loose from your torso trembled and her hips twitched.

"Will my baby let me cum on her pretty tongue?" you asked between gasps, beads of sweat falling down both sides of your temple.

"Finish wherever you please daddy..." she moaned, "my body is all yours, just use it however you want."

With that said you straightened your back and grabbed Jimin's legs behind her knees. She had already cum, and thanks to that you considered her request as satisfied, it was your turn to enjoy. The pumps became considerably faster, she began to scream, overstimulated in every possible way as her orgasm had not yet fully passed. Even though you would have liked to continue fucking her like that, all the pleasure previously built in you began to take its toll on you.

Jimin's flushed face and her bouncing tits made you take a deep breath as you felt tingles around your pubic area. Her whimpers were getting a little too loud for your ears, so instinctively your first reaction was to bring one of your hands to her neck. Through all the flailing you didn't realize how hard you were squeezing until you saw Jimin gasp for breath, you didn't know if she was really enjoying it, but judging by how her eyebrows furrowed and her toes wrinkled, you could have an idea of what the answer was.

After a few thrusts you felt on the edge. You let go of her neck and left her pussy to kneel on the floor next to her face. She stuck her tongue out, just like she had done a few minutes ago to drink the vodka, and you started jerking off as fast as you could with the tip of your cock pressed against her tongue. You made eye contact with her, and that was the icing on the cake to make you explode.

"Aghhhh fuck!!" you exclaimed, feeling your entire soul leaking out of your body as you shot your load onto Jimin's hot tongue. She let your cum form a pool in her mouth, and when she felt it was too much she began to swallow it as best she could without any retching to interrupt her. You continued emptying your balls for a few long seconds, but she continued swallowing every single drop as if it were an everyday task.

"That was delicious daddy..." Jimin said when the cum was no longer coming out of your cock and she had swallowed it all, "I... I'll give you my number, but right now I need to sleep."

"Do you want me to take you to my room?" you ask panting, cock still in hand.

"Do you have a room here?" she asked incredulously.

"I spend more time here than at home, so Ryujin gave me a room. Although now that I think about it, I never use it, I always sleep with her," she managed to laugh out of her weakness and lack of energy.

"Okay, take me to your room," she nodded, "I can't walk, so I'm sorry to make it so difficult for you."

"I'll take care of it, just relax."

You stood up and bent your knees to put one arm under her knees and the other under her back. You picked her up like a princess, and she snuggled into your chest. Wanting to avoid the girls you took an alternative route upstairs, slower but safer.

"What do you plan to tell the girls when they ask you about me?" She asked sleepily as you walked up the stairs.

"I don't know, maybe you were feeling bad?"

"Out of nowhere? I doubt they believe that."

"Do you have anything better?" You walked until you reached the door of your room, which you had to make a superhuman effort to open with Jimin in your arms.

"Not really, just say what you think is best then," she sighed.

Your room wasn't as big as Ryujin's, but it was already bigger than the one at home and you considered it comfortable enough for Jimin to rest well. You laid her down on one of her two pillows, she settled on her side, and you covered her with the blanket. You turned on the air conditioning, and turned off the lights.

"Rest well baby, I'll see you in a bit," you whispered in her ear, and then left the room.

Due to your chivalrous act you had not even realized that you were still naked, and in a house where most of the walls were made of glass that was something quite dangerous, especially when the window in front of you was the one that faced the street. You considered it useless to try to cover your crotch, so you just ran downstairs in search of your underwear. Arriving in the living room where you were a few minutes ago, you realized what a real mess you and Jimin had made, so you took a moment to organize everything again before putting on your underwear and putting away Jimin's bikini in one of the drawers of the floating cabinet where you ate her. There remained the small problem of the gigantic stain on the sofa, but that was a matter that you would take care of later.

When you returned to the eye of the hurricane you found things calmer than you thought, Ning on the couch jumping to the rhythm of There's Nothing Holding Me Back by Shawn Mendes with a drink in her hand, Minjeong calm and quiet as always, and Giselle smoking another cigarette while drinking on the single couch.

"Jimin died in the bathroom and you were burying her or what?" Giselle asked when she saw you arrive, she took a drag on her cigarette.

"Her stomach went bad thanks to the alcohol, she threw up in the bathroom and I was just taking care of her," you stood in front of her and motioned with your finger towards the cigarette box.

"Stop lying!" Ning exclaimed behind you, "you fucked her so hard you sent her to sleep!" You knew it was best to stay silent, but he who remains silent grants, so you were screwed either way.

"Did you fuck her?" Giselle asked before giving you the cigarette, only motioning her lips so that no one else would know.

"What do you think?" You shrugged, not wanting to say yes to be a gentleman. You took the cigarette from her hand with one agile movement, and turned around to grab the lighter from the table. You lit the cigarette, took a drag, and went to sit with Minjeong.

"How does she suck cock?" She asked as soon as you sat down next to her, you sighed, done with your existence.

"Better than you," you said just to annoy her, and took another drag on the cigarette.

"Well probably, but my pussy is and will remain the tightest you'll ever be inside," she leaned forward and took the cigarette from your fingers to take a drag, the Minjeong of a few months ago would have choked on the smoke, this one now swallowed it and expelled it without any problem. You took the cigarette back from her.

"Get your own cigarette, fool.”

"Hey! Aren't you guys hungry?" Giselle asked from across the room.

"He definitely isn't!" Ning said pointing at you, and burst into laughter. The alcohol was already affecting her a bit, since in the middle of her laughter she almost fell off the couch.

"Actually I am, do you girls want a barbecue?" you asked them, "I remember seeing some nice pieces in the freezer."

"Oh fuck yes," Giselle agreed, taking the last drag on her cigarette before putting it out and throwing the butt into a glass jar that was originally on a shelf.

"I haven't had a meal since yesterday, so I can eat anything right now!" Ning said, the song ending at that moment, and she stopped dancing to sit on your right.

"I can go help you season and prepare everything, honey," Minjeong said, placing her hand on yours.

"Thanks darling," you nodded, and then looked at Giselle, "you two can be helpful and set up the grill."

"And... how do you do that?" Ning asked.

"Simple, you just have to put charcoal under the grill. There's a bag outside right next to it I think," another drag on your cigarette, discarding the ashes in the jar.

"Aight, we'll look it up on YouTube, let's go," Giselle stood up, and Ning followed her.

"Looks like it's just you and me again," Minjeong giggled, now standing in front of you.

"As it should always be, right?" you smiled, and stood up with her.

"It should, yeah," she smiled back, took your hand and you gave her a kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. On the way you passed by the scene of the incident, and you tried to do everything possible so that she did not look towards the sofa, but being the observant person that she was, she saw it, "and what is that?"

"Uh what are you talking about?" you made a fool of yourself.

"That big ass stain on the couch," she pointed at it, "what is it?"

"Uh..."

"Cum?"

"Well… not exactly."

"She damn squirted?" You remained silent, and with a lost look you took a drag on the cigarette, "holy mother of God, you destroyed her."

"Well, anyway, we have some food to prepare. Come on," you walked straight to the kitchen, and Minjeong followed you, laughing.

There was more to choose from in the freezer than you remembered. There were t-bones, beef and pork ribs, and wide beef tenderloins. You waited a while for everything to defrost, but when your patience ran out you simply used the microwave to do the job. There were several different cuts, so you seasoned each one in a different way. For the T-Bone you only used a layer of grain salt and pepper, and for the wide loin you used the same but adding a layer of olive oil. The ribs were the main attraction, so you put a little more effort into it. For the beef ribs you had to first prepare a BBQ sauce, and for the pork ribs you had to prepare a sauce based on various seasonings for a better flavor. When everything was ready, you loaded everything onto wide plates and went outside.

Giselle and Ning had done a better job than you thought, the grill was perfectly prepared, with a perfect amount of charcoal. The grill was quite large, so you had plenty of space to put the plates to the side and start making all the cuts little by little. After about 40 minutes everything was perfectly cooked and ready.

You had a quiet, alcohol-free meal, which was already an achievement considering who you were with. During the meal the chemistry between you, the girls and Giselle increased, you learned many things about her, among the most notable, that she was a student of Criminal Law in the United States, her father was an associate justice of the Supreme Court, and her mother was an architect. She also told you that she was on vacation here with her mother, and that she would be returning to the United States next week.

"Damn, those pork ribs were amazing, what the fuck," Giselle said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Thank me, I'm a culinary genius," Minjeong smiled, as if you hadn't given her every instruction in great detail.

"You? You almost ruined a ramen once, a ramen!" Ning exclaimed, “You literally just boil water and put in the noodles!”

"I was high as fuck, and unlike you three I could stand up."

"Speaking of being high..." Giselle began, and she looked at the three of you, "are you up for it?"

"This house keeps more weed than Uncle Snoop's," you said, "you literally just have to say how you want it."

"That much?" She, incredulous, raised an eyebrow.

"Not really, I'm just exaggerating, but Ryujin has enough to survive 2 months."

"Does she have a bong?"

"Nah, that's too much for her. I can offer you blunts, she bought a pack recently."

"Where the fuck did she get a pack of blunts? Ready to smoke?"

"Yep. And I don't know, but it's certainly not legal."

"How ironic that the daughter of a supreme court judge would be interested in something like this," Minjeong laughed.

"Oh honey, my crime is child's play compared to all the shit that some people of my kind do," Giselle responded, you noticed some arrogance in her tone.

"I know, all Americans are rotten in absolutely every way, no wonder," Minjeong snapped back, cold as ice. There was an awkward silence, and Ning giggled to try to break it, but she only made it more awkward.

"Well, who's going to wash the dishes with me?" you asked after a few seconds, and Giselle stood up instantly.

"I'll go, I don't want to get into an argument with your pretty little girlfriend and ruin my opinion of her," Giselle didn't bother waiting for you and left the room.

"It was just a joke, honey! Don't get upset!" Minjeong exclaimed for her to hear, with a mocking giggle.

"Enough," you said, and she stayed silent as you stood up, "I don't think that was the most appropriate thing to say to her."

"Did I lie?"

"I don't care, just think things before you say them," that was the last thing you said to her before turning your back on the two of them, "Ning, get the blunts while we wash the dishes."

"Can I smoke one?!" You heard her say as you walked away from there.

"No!" you responded, and went to meet Giselle again. You heard the tap running before you arrived, she was already washing a couple of cutlery, and you approached from behind.

"Your girlfriend isn't usually tactful when saying things, is she?" She asked as she heard you arrive, now speaking in English. You stood behind her, your lower back leaning against the stove behind you.

"It's not like you didn't make it easy for her," you crossed your arms, not the least bit interested in moving since you had a front row view of her enormous ass from behind.

"It's one thing to make fun of myself and quite another to be made fun of," she reluctantly threw a piece of cutlery and the sponge into the dishwasher and turned around after closing the tap, catching you looking down, "did you come to help me or to see my ass?"

"The order of the factors doesn't alter the product, I was going to do it right now," you took another discreet glance at her fleshy thighs before meeting her eyes.

"Are you sure? I see you very comfortable there," she huffed, also crossing her arms to imitate you, but also to put her tits together and form an attractive cleavage.

"It's because you're using the dishwasher," she wanted you to see her tits, and you did that in small intervals of time.

"There's a free one literally to your right," she said, eyes trained on you.

"Well, you caught me, I just stood there to see your ass, so what?"

"Oh no, it's okay..." for the first time she looked down, straight at your boxers, you didn't need to follow her eyes to know what she was looking at, "tell me something, pretty boy..." she gave a slow step forward, then another, and that way until she was standing inches from you, "you love it, don't you? and you love my thighs too..." she placed her hands on the counter on either side of you, somehow imprisoning you.

"Mmm… not enough yet, they have to pass a quality test first," you stared into her eyes.

"And what quality test are we talking about?" You didn't respond with words, but with actions. Two hands right on the sides of her thighs, caressing them up and down. The smile on Giselle's face told you that your bold act pleased her.

"Do you have something in mind?" From her thighs you moved to her waist, pulling her towards you to press her body against yours.

"I have a lot of things on my mind right now, honey..." she left her hands on your chest, your lips a few centimeters away, "you know? today I feel generous... why not give you what you want?" Giselle pulled away and turned around, then pressed her ass against your bulging crotch, "come on, pull it down pretty boy..."

You didn't doubt it for a second. You grabbed Giselle's bikini bottom by the back curb and slowly folded it down to her knees. Her bare ass was even more tempting and eye-catching than you imagined, her soft, round, juicy buttocks pressed against you. Your cock hardened in a matter of seconds, and when you felt this you pulled your boxers down to your ankles in a single pull. You noticed a sly little smile on Giselle's face as the back of your cock rubbed against the space between her ass cheeks.

"I guess the dishes can wait..." you murmured close to her ear. You surrounded her delicious body with both arms, and she twisted her hips to knead your cock with her ass.

"Are you going to fuck me against the dishwasher, casanova?" She asked with her face half turned towards you, she brought one hand back to cradle your face.

"Not yet," you moved a hand up to her neck and then to her chin, you turned her face towards you and kissed her.

Her full, soft lips welcomed yours in a deep kiss, full of passion and a growing feeling of desire. She pressed her ass back, grinding your cock between her silky buttocks. You couldn't help but grab the front of her thighs, feeling the firm flesh between your fingers. You left one hand on her left thigh, and the other you took to her crotch, right to her plump pussy which you rubbed with your index and middle fingers, you did it gently, feeling like her folds gradually became wetter and wetter. She stifled a subtle moan against your lips, feeling arousal take over her body.

You now took the hand you had on her thigh between your bodies to grab your cock and rub it between her buttocks, your tip caressed her butthole, and lower down it met her wet pussy. She held her breath in the middle of your kiss, thinking that you were going to penetrate her, but what you did was put your cock between her thighs. Giselle pulled away from your lips and gave you a little smile, pressing her legs together to crush your boner between them.

"So you want a thighjob huh?" she teased with a giggle, "I don't blame you... they are perfect after all," she spit a considerable amount of saliva into her hand and brought it between her thighs to grab your cock, you moaned just from her touch, as she let your cock slippery between strokes, "go ahead, have fun."

With the green light to do whatever you wanted, the first thing you did was put your two hands on her waist, and without thinking twice you began to move slowly from back to front. Not even ten seconds passed when you already felt like you were in heaven, and you let her know that with the loud moans that came out of your mouth. Her thighs were the closest thing to perfection you had ever felt, a perfect balance between softness, firmness and fleshiness that hugged your cock in an overwhelming meat sandwich.

"Fuck it... they passed the quality test," you gasped, pumping your hips faster and faster, "they're perfect and I love them," she giggled and you buried your face in her neck to fill it with kisses and bites.

"Your cock isn't bad either..." she murmured in your ear as it slid smoothly between her thighs and also rubbed against her wet pussy from the top, "it feels thick and delicious between my thighs… I can't wait to know what it feels like inside this fat pussy."

"You're driving me crazy, Uchinaga, you better shut up..." you growled, using one hand to untie her bikini top and pull it off her chest, you couldn't get a view of what you had freed, but as you put both your hands there you came across a pair of surprisingly big tits. These were just the right size to fit in your hands, but they felt full, round and soft like two stress balls, "and you have two perfect tits too?" you asked, pumping your cock harder and harder, her ass slapping against your pelvis with each thrust between her thighs.

"Thank genetics..." she placed her hands on yours as you massaged and squeezed her tits, "hell, thank life I'm giving you the chance to have me, lucky motherfucker."

"You're the only one of the girls who hasn't called me daddy yet," you lowered one of your hands from her tits to her pussy, "what are you waiting for?" She tried to laugh, but you started rubbing her clit in quick circles.

"D-don't even fucking dream of it, asshole," she managed to say before a moan escaped her, "you're not even close to earning that privilege."

"We'll see that... bitch," you continued fucking her thighs and rubbing her pussy for a few long seconds in which your moans overlapped. Giselle was melting in your arms, thanks to how you rubbed your cock between her folds and how you moved your fingers over her clit, "I'm going to fuck you so hard that when I come out of you you'll feel like a part of you is missing."

"I want to see you try, mmh!" she pursed her lips in a slight squeal, "fuck me, you bastard! fuck me hard!"

That felt like a sudden change of chip for you, you put your hands on Giselle's shoulders and roughly pushed her forward. You pulled the boxers off your legs, and took a stride forward to push her again, this time she was leaning against the edge of the dishwasher, and you stood right behind her. She bent her back, her head right next to the faucet as you rubbed your cock against her pale buttocks. You were eager to give her what she deserved, so you brought one hand to her waist and with the other you guided your cock between her buttocks. Finding her pussy you rubbed your tip up and down for a few short seconds, she turned to look at you over her shoulder, and locking eyes with her you pressed forward, taking your cock inch by inch inside her.

You couldn't utter a word as your cock pushed its way between her plump folds and reached deep inside her hot and extremely wet pussy. Giselle bit her fist to stifle a moan, feeling every inch of you filling her. Her ass rested against your pelvis, and you could have spent hours watching her buttocks hide your shaft, but you had a clear mission to fulfill.

The pumps began, your hips moving back and forth slowly at first to feel in detail how your cock slid smoothly in and out of her. Within seconds Giselle's eyes were demanding more, and you were happy to give it to her. With two hands on her waist you increased your pace, little by little making her big ass bounce with each thrust. You raised both hands to her ribs and moved them to her back, you left them there for a few seconds, but then you raised them to her shoulders to bend her back upwards. She clung to the edge of the dishwasher, and with her head thrown back she began to moan shamelessly.

"Do you like it, you arrogant bitch?" you asked with your lips pursed, breathing like a raging bull as you made her body shake like a rag with each thrust.

"Do it harder!! Be fucking rude and destroy me!! FUCK!!" Her pleas made you smile between your gasps. You knew very well how to be tough, Ryujin had that side of you well trained and polished. Easy peasy.

You raised one hand and let it fall at full speed on one of her buttocks, your spank made a wave on her flesh and left the shape of your hand marked in red on her skin. Giselle squealed with pleasure, but it was a squeal that only meant she wanted more. You repeated the action a few times, giving her the hardest spanks you had ever given anyone until you left her ass a vibrant red.

Her buttocks were now squeezed and kneaded by your hands, you did it knowing that her skin was sensitive and that it was itching for her. A normal person would be bothered by that, but Giselle only became more turned on.

When you stopped kneading her buttocks you brought one hand to her right thigh and made her raise her knee to the marble edge. With one of her legs now lifted you began to fuck her just as hard but this time hitting deeper, so much that you felt like if you were a few centimeters bigger you would have pierced her endocervix. Giselle went crazy with high-pitched squeals, and you leaned forward to grab a generous handful of her hair, pulling it back and making her growl.

"So you like being mistreated huh?!!" You teased with a devilish grin on your face, roughly pulling her head back on purpose as you hammered into her pussy like a tireless machine.

"I fucking love it!!" she admitted with a cry, as your pelvis crashed again and again against her round buttocks, "don't stop da..."

"You could have at least warned me, damn it!" Ning's voice coming from an unknown place brought you out of your zen zone, just when it seemed like Giselle was going to say the word. You and Giselle turned around immediately, stopping what you were doing to see Ning standing with her arms crossed next to a trophy case.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go get the damn blunts?" You exclaimed somewhat angry since you were still inside Giselle and your body demanded more pleasure.

"I already did! But I wanted to know what you were doing since you guys were taking so long!" She excused herself in the best way she could, "but I'm leaving, I'm sorry!"

"Oh hell no," you interrupted her, and Giselle looked at you confused, "you're going to stay here watching me destroy this kinky little bitch."

"Oh really?" Ning asked. You turned back to Giselle and picked up right where you left off, pulled her hair again, and continued pounding her pussy with all your might, "Well shit, that's a yes."

"Come on you damn bitch, say what you were going to say!!" You ordered Giselle, lowering her thigh from over the edge of the dishwasher and pulling her up to press her back against your chest. With her face now on the side of yours you brought one hand to her neck to squeeze it, and with the other you gave her a slap that you didn't care in the least how hard it was.

"MHGHHHHH!!!" Giselle squealed, feeling her pussy being destroyed by your throbbing cock at full speed, "DON'T STOP DADDY, DON'T YOU DARE STOP!!" Just then Ning stood next to you, her elbow leaning on a counter.

"Your cock is so magical that you managed to break even this bad bitch," Ning laughed, watching with fascinated eyes as you fucked her, "I'll have my turn, won't I?"

You didn't have the head to give Ning any attention at that moment, not when you had Giselle at your complete mercy and on the verge of breaking. One hand of yours went to her neck and the other went back to her pussy, you cut off her breath without thinking twice, and began to quickly rub her clit in between the thrusts.

"Cum, you fucking bitch, cum!!" You growled in her ear as her distorted face turned red. And almost as if by magic, a few seconds after saying that her body completely decompensated. Her entire body swayed and began to shake in your arms, her spasms made it difficult for you to keep her standing, and not caring that she was going through her orgasm you continued to thrust into her violently until you reached your limit as well.

You let go of Giselle's neck and brought your hands to her waist as you pumped slower, shooting thick jets of cum into her hot pussy. She continued to moan and squirm, even pulling her ass back trying to get you as deep inside her as possible. You moaned against her sweaty neck, giving her the last few thrusts before your orgasm passed and all your cum was dumped inside.

"I-I don't want a single word about this... understood?!" Giselle warned with wounded pride, looking out of the corner of her eye at Ning, who you hadn't realized was already completely naked.

"I'll be a coffin, woman, now, will you let me eat your pussy?" Ning asked without any shame.

"Sorry?"

"You don't think I'll let my man's cum fall to the floor, right?" Ning knelt next to you, waiting patiently for you to pull out of her pussy so she could start eating it.

"Oh fuck! Be careful, I'm still s-sensitive," Giselle sighed, her arms and thighs weak as Ning had both of her hands on her ass and her face buried between her buttocks. A few seconds passed as Ning pulled away from her slit, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

"Mmmm… I missed this taste, how delicious," Ning said, standing up and staring at you, "well? What are you waiting for, daddy?"

Under other circumstances you would have flatly refused another consecutive fuck, but you were feeling especially energetic at the moment, and fortunately for Ning, you felt capable of one more round at full intensity.

You pounced on Ning like a fierce predator, smashing your lips against hers and wrapping your arms around her body. She reciprocated your kiss with a small moan, caressing the hair on the back of your neck with one hand and your chest with the other. You brought your hands to her legs, and she got the message immediately, jumping up to wrap her legs around your torso so you could carry her. She wrapped her arms around your neck and deepened the kiss even further, adding her tongue and gasping in the middle of it.

You walked a few steps forward with her in your arms and leaned her against a wall. You separated yourself from her lips and began to kiss, bite and suck on her neck for a few seconds, then you lowered yourself further down, and when you reached her pair of round tits you took one of them to your mouth. Ning pressed you against her chest with a louder moan, while you sucked and licked each nipple with utmost dedication. By having her pressed and held against her wall she had the freedom to release one hand from around your neck, she took advantage of this to reach your cock and grab it firmly. You being still sensitive, that was somewhat painful, but she noticed this and loosened her grip on it, moving her hand slowly and carefully.

After almost a minute just dedicating the well-deserved time that you always dedicated to her perfect tits, you felt your cock ready for action again.

“Spit on daddy's cock, baby,” you ordered Ning, and she immediately spit on her hand to lubricate your cock again, using the remainder to rub her pussy a few times, “put it in yourself," a new order, eyes fixed on hers.

"Yes daddy… whatever you say," she sighed, grabbing your cock and guiding it into her own pussy. You saw in great detail how her face distorted as she slowly impaled herself on your cock, and how her eyes closed when you were completely inside her.

"Subby weak fucking slut..." Giselle said behind you, mocking Ning's obedience.

"You're not in the best position to make fun of me," Ning managed to say between moans that grew louder as you began to move your cock in and out of her pussy.

"At least I was tough for him, I'm sure the first time you saw him you sucked his cock with those puppy eyes of yours," you grabbed Ning's thighs and spread his legs wide open, pinning her against the wall to start fucking her gradually faster.

"Mmmmgh!" Ning groaned, wrapping her arms around your neck and giving you a small kiss, "Almost, I gave him a lap dance and we almost fucked in the middle of a hallway," you couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"Mother of God!" Giselle exclaimed, "you are a whore through and through."

"I'm not just a whore, I'm his whore!" She emphasized, inadvertently letting out a little scream of pleasure while you pressed her thighs between your fingers and fucked her mercilessly against the wall.

"Say it again, I don't think she fully understood it, baby," you murmured in her ear, panting and sweat dripping down your body.

"I'm daddy's good little whore!" she moaned louder as you hammered into her pussy, "everything of me belongs to him, especially my slutty tight pussy! Fuck!!"

"Damn, you sure have them well trained, huh?" Giselle teased with a giggle, "I have no doubt that Jiminie ended up in the same situation."

"Even worse," you said, removing Ning from the wall and turning to now sit her on the corner of the kitchen island. She left her legs wide open, and let go of your neck to rest her hands on the warm surface behind her back.

"So you did fuck her?" Ning laughed mockingly, but then she continued moaning as if nothing had happened. You slapped her to shut her up, and she moaned louder.

"Of course he fucked her, Jimin's pussy has been dripping since she saw him earlier," Giselle said, "I don't think she made it difficult for him."

"And neither do you," you laughed, grabbing Ning by her waist and fucking her as fast as your motor would allow, her tits bouncing off of her and her face twisting with pleasure.

"Well… I at least..." Giselle tried to find an excuse in vain, she knew her pride was indefensible at that moment, "ugh, fuck you."

Ning let her back flat, and with Giselle now quiet you focused on giving your favorite Chinese woman all the pleasure she desired. You lifted her legs, bringing her ankles together in the air and holding them with one hand. Ning loved it when you fucked her like that, you knew it from how she always massaged her own tits and bit her fingers between whimpers.

"Mmmmm! Give it to me daddy!" she squealed, curling her toes at the side of your face, "don't stop daddy!!" You released her ankles and hugged her raised legs against your body, now giving her deeper and stronger thrusts.

“Be a good girl and cum for daddy, you little slut,” you ordered with a growl.

"Yes daddy!! Just don't stop, don't fucking stop please!!!" she squealed, writhing on the counter. She was quiet for a few short seconds in which only the sounds of your pelvis colliding against her buttocks could be heard, and with a guttural squeal she exploded around your cock.

Ning's orgasms were always forceful and intense, she truly channeled pleasure with absolutely every part of her body, and you had to make a superhuman effort to keep her from falling off the island. With a firm grip around her thighs she stayed still in place, her back arching and her throat emanating pure sounds of pleasure. You gave her slow thrusts, feeling close to another orgasm but not wanting to cum inside her.

"Uchinaga, come here," you ordered as Ning's body relaxed and her orgasm subsided.

"Don't fucking tell me what to d-"

"I said come here!" you ordered, this time more stern and with an imperative tone. The next thing you saw was Giselle kneeling next to you, "good fucking girl."

You pulled out of Ning's pussy, left her sprawled on the island, and turned to Giselle, your cock between her eyebrows. You didn't even have to give her a command before she took your cock in one hand and guided it directly into her mouth. She began to suck you hard, taking more than half of your cock in a matter of seconds with each pump. She spit in the middle of the blowjob to make it more slippery, saliva falling from the corner of her lips to the floor but also drenching you with it.

Soon she didn't need a hand to help herself, she brought them both to your thighs, digging her nails into them to now move her head fully back and forth, giving you mini deep throats with each movement. You didn't need much more to explode once again. Giselle didn't seem to like the fact that you didn't warn, but she still took every inch of your cock into her mouth as you shot one last thick load into her body.

“Just watch that bitch swallow all his cum,” Minjeong's voice and giggle behind you.

"Fuck, this is the last straw…" Giselle said once she had swallowed all your cum and she pulled it out of your mouth. Her chin, her thighs, and her floor were soaked with saliva. You turned around, and saw Minjeong standing right where Ning was before. With her was Jimin, dressed in one of your baggy hoodies that you didn't even know you had left in that house.

"He really hit the grand slam today, didn't he?" Jimin laughed too.

"Ask Ning that, she's literally dead there," Minjeong scoffed.

"God, shut your mouth, it's no big deal," Giselle huffed, standing up and wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

"Did you rest well?" you asked Jimin, hiding your cock behind the island.

"Perfectly, daddy," she nodded with a little smile and a tender look, "and I think I'm ready for more fun."

"Oh honey, you're not ready," Minjeong denied, pulling the pack of blunts from behind her back, "this is just the beginning."

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SPREN NOTES: My biggest job to date? Yeah. My best work to date? I think so. Is this divided into two parts? Of course. Wait for it.

#aespa smut #giselle smut #karina smut #winter smut #ningning smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #kpop smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #smut fanfic

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