#I finally got to touch my laptop again!!!

[votaeto]

love struck koala

[strawbabycowboy]

.

[screampied]

HOW JJK MEN DEAL WITH YOUR ATTITUDE….

sukuna, nanamin, toji, getō, gojo. jujutsu kaisen men vs your bratty attitude in bed.

2.7k words of pure filth, not yet proofread srry! ☆ total wc ☆

☆ tags ☆ afab!reader, brat-taming, unprotected sex, dirty talk, facefucking , overstimulation, hair pulling , hitting it raw, semi-public sex, 18+ mdni!

☆ a : n ☆ I just wanna get dicked down by fictional men

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“ya got some nerve, woman,” sukuna spits, watching you with bright eyes as you just bounce up and down on his lap, your dampened lips tremble as his dick squeezes past such a sweet spot. two hands of yours gripped onto both sides of his thighs, the top of your teeth softly bites down on your bottom lip once a moan slip out from sukuna gifting your pussy with a single spank. “all that talkin’ and ya can barely ride me without me guiding your hips.”

“fuck you s-sukuna.” you’d hiss out, and his base just slams back into you, your weight shifts a bit as you’re growing more stupid, a gasp leaves your lips once you feel him reach a rough hand between your legs, slowly, just to rub circles against your clit. “you’re.. fucking small anyways.”

his warm breath wafts against your neck once he lets off a laugh, watching you struggle to keep up with his pace. yet, grows a bit stern for a second, grabbing ahold of both of your hips to make you stop - do nothing but sit in such dismay. “repeat that again for me, girl?”

“i said-” you started, and he’s stuffing you full of thick inches, your nails dig and dig into his thighs, and sukuna brings a hand up to your mouth. “you’re small, k-kuna.”

“i’m small yet you still fuck me, in case you forgot about that part.” sukuna mutters, his tone was full of rasp that it was a bit sexy, especially when you’re taken by surprise once he shoves you lightly on your chest and the very palm of his hand smacks against your ass, “i’m small yet you probably couldn’t even take both of my dicks if you tried, whore.”

a hiss leaves from your lips again, and you start to whimper once you feel the tip of his swollen head swipe against your achy entrance. “just.. stop talking and fuck me then.”

“mm. no. i’ll fuck ya when i feel like it,” he replies immediately, and you’re just stupidly enough laid flat against your chest, facing forward while sukuna’s entire frame is against you, just barely. just as he’s about to go in, he stops, leaving you with the biggest pout imaginable. “and right now, i don’t feel like it.”

“wha-”

you feel the weight of the bed shift a bit, hearing sukuna pull up his pants, readjusting his belt and you sit up with your eyebrows curling up in disappointment. “where are you going? i didn’t even g-get to cum yet.”

“that sounds like a you problem, princess.” he says, staring down at you with red slick eyes. bastard. his tone carried such arrogant tease, it made you throb and it was so annoying, even still. “don’t think i’ll be able to make ya cum with a dick this small. go ahead and use those fingers of yours. you’re a big girl.”

and sukuna leaves the bedroom, leaving you, naked, confused, and even more horny than you already were before.

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“my love, thought i told you to wait, i’m in a… call.”

his words slow for a moment once he looks down, seeing you buried underneath his home office work desk, on your knees and giving him that needy look of pure want and desperation. your eyes was just begging, he stares with near widened eyes once he sees you playfully unzip his black slacks. “little.. minx.. okay, fine. just.. try to control yourself for me?”

you and nanami both knew how you’d get though, especially whenever you were to go down on him. you wanted him to touch you, let alone fuck you but he just had to have a stupid important business company meeting. he relaxes for a moment, giving you one final glance before averting his attention towards his bright screen on his laptop as if you weren’t taking him in your mouth at that right given moment.

“fuck,” he groans, leaning back against his black cushioned chair, he can’t help but stare for a bit at seeing his fat tip disappear after each inch. your tongue swirls against against the plump head, tasting his pre-cum and moments later you gag from feeling him reach way back against your throat. “…you.. better wipe that damn smile off your face.”

he was half right, the tiny smile poking against thet corners of your lips as your head started to slowly bobble up and down, taking him with tears already starting to form in your eyes from how good it was. “uh.. kento. are you listening? we need your input for the week's product.”

“p-pardon?” he groans, and his tip continues to hit against the back of your throat, your mouth’s happily being stuffed full, wet sloppy noises of your throat getting fucked, by this point nanami’s got a fist full of your hair, shoving you with ease yet just enough force to where his dick tickles your uvula, making you gag again and again. “i’m listening.. sorry,” he huffs out, and you’re being pushed against him again and again, it’s so sloppy and messy you’ve got drool pouring down the sides of your mouth, “my um.. pet, keeps distracting me, you know?”

the other employees on the call laugh at nanami’s poor attempt of a joking lie, and momentarily his thigh bounces and he bites his lip while trying to maintain focus on his screen. “right, right. anyways, as we mentioned…” and the boring conversation continues, nanami’s staring at you, you’re being a good girl taking him fully, that sloppy tongue of yours just toying with his tip and he’s close - you can tell from the way his grip tightens in your hair, dragging you closer against him and you’re breathing through your nose.

nanami grows quiet for a bit, you keep a long gaze towards him as your knees dig into the ground, probably marks on them by now and moments later he shoots in your mouth, warm ropes of his cum coat on your tongue and it catches him off guard. “….y-yeah no, that sounds good.” he swallows thickly, squeezing the small black mouse that connected to his laptop—just eager to click the red decline button to end the meeting call.

you sucked him dry, his eyes close for a moment and he’s still holding onto your hair, swaying his thumb against your mouth once he takes his dick out to rub and smear his erected cock against your lips. beep. he left the call, and he lets off a sexy low grunt, finally staring at you again. “show me your tongue, baby. let me see the mess you made.”

you stick out your tongue, and nanami gets hard again even though he’s flaccid at the moment, he slaps his fat tip against your tongue and your reaction is so enthusiastic, he watches his own cum nearly pour out your mouth and he brings a hand towards your chin to cup your cheeks. “swallow,” and you do, eager enough and he gives you a head pat before you gasp, pushing you closer towards his crotch area again. “need to feel that mouth of yours again, love. make me cum at least two more times and i’ll think about touching that pretty needy body of yours, okay?”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“am i goin' deaf or did ya really just say that, brat?” toji says, and you moan once he’s got you bent over the armrest of the couch like some slut. in this case, you were from how loud you were from each thrust he gave you. you’re just screaming out his name practically from how good he’s hitting you from the back. deep deep strokes that makes your back go up a bit. “still think your ex fucks better than… me?”

“you h-heard me,” you shot back, barely being able to keep up your act, his dick has you stupid and feral, mouth watering, it was just so filthy. he’s so big and thick, stretching and molding out your walls with each second, you feel him throb inside you and his base smacks back against your pussy, he groans from it before chuckling at your broken words. “he can.. last longer than you.”

toji scoffs. “tch,” and your mouth opens a bit once he deepens the angle, getting more thorough with his hits against your cunt. you get dizzy from how good he fucks you, you’re whimpering from his cock at this point, whimpering for more and toji grows cocky. “now girl, let’s not lie.”

his sassiness throws you off, and you’re basically being fucked into the mattress, face being shoved against the cushions.

“f-fucking asshole,” you whined, and he spanks your ass, you let off a soft noise once you feel him pin your wrists behind your back, he’s so deep you can feel his thrusts kiss against your pussy numerous times, you get shivers.

“…sayin' that yet here ya are slutting yourself out on me, that’s…kinda ironic sweetheart,” toji smirks, and he’s got your pussy losing itself, he was right, he and you both knew that. no one could fuck better than toji, especially with a size like his—he could fuck you right to sleep, his dreamy strokes would ease about anyway. “how ‘bout i pump this cunt full and show your little boy toy what he’s missin'.”

you’re too fucked dumb to reply, and toji’s pace grows more and more erotic. the couch creaks and creaks, and your head’s just spinning.

“f-fuck.. cum- gonna cum toji.”

“not on me you aren’t,” he mumbles back, and you’re mood immediately shifts to confusion once he flips you on your back, his hovering over you with a fixated witty grin. “oh don’t give me that look, sweets. you brought this on yourself, and my feelings are hurt so it you think i can’t last, maybe your ex can do better.”

“h-huh?” you whimpered, watching him grab your phone from the nightstand. “what are you doing? finish fucking me..”

“callin' mr. lover boy,” still balls deep yet stopping his thrusts, with a few clicks, toji dials a number before pressing the phone against his ear. “hey buddy. hope ya aren’t busy. but you remember your girl right? i’m-fucking-her-by-the-way-but-that’s not-important. but she says you last longer than me. ain’t gonna lie, man to man, quite frankly, i’m offended.”

SUGURU ☆ GETŌ

“fucking…” he cursed, kissing his teeth in annoyance, he pulls over the car to a more secluded area away from public eyes, he gets you out before staring at you with an annoyed expression. even pissed off, geto was still heavily attractive. “trying to.. get me off while i’m driving? you wanna get us both killed?”

“maybe…” you fake whined, a smile going on your lips, striding towards him to playfully run your hands up his shirt to feel his toned abs.

geto gives you a glare before with a swift arm movement, he turns you around and pins you against the hood of his car. “you just woke up and chose to be a brat today, huh. someone needs to get put in their place again. you never learn, do you.”

he had no shame fucking you out in the open, despite no cars were driving nearby, anyone could probably stumble upon the two of you though. it was so filthy, your boyfriend fucking you rough and deep against the hood of his car, lazily pulling your skirt up, not having the decency to pull down your panties. “s-suguru,” you moaned, not expecting him to be so worked up, your panties were pulled to the side and he’s pumping your sweet tight cunt full of his dick. “someone’s gonna see us.”

“someone’s gonna see you,” he corrects, giving your ass a mean spank and that makes you moan later before you start sputtering cute whiney little sorry’s before he continues to spank you ever few seconds, grunting from his deep strokes that made you almost go limp against his hood. “what are you sorry for?”

he was teasing you, your hands remained planted on top of the the warm over-heated vehicle, you feel your mouth grow dry and you feel yourself coming close. “for- for trying to stroke you while you were trying.”

“that’s sweet,” he says, and you’re just getting pounded from behind, he’s a perfect fit for your smug entrance, using a rough hand to spread your legs a little wider for him. you could sort of feel the soft fabric of his halfway pulled down sweats against your ass each time he hits himself against you, “but i don’t believe you’re sorry. you’re just saying sorry so i can let you cum, is that right, pretty?”

you squeezed your eyes close for a split second and you hear geto hold back a giggle once he gives your ass another spank. “n-no i’m serious suguru, 'm sorry- please let me cum.”

“pretty please,” he adds, hearing you sigh in frustration. he found it so cute whenever you didn’t get your way.

“…….pretty please, suguru.”

“good, good girl.” he groans, his balls were so heavy, very thick you’re just hungry for him to pump you more, your mouth watered just imagining him over filling your pussy with ropes and ropes of his cum until it’s dripping down your thighs.

but a ear-wrenching siren appears, and you freeze up once you spot a police car pulling up towards the both of you. let’s just say, the both of you were busted.

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“so it’s like that,” gojo frowns, and it’s fake nonetheless, of course it is, it’s gojo. he’s never serious, especially while he’s intimate with you. you’re laid down on your back and gojo’s just so mean. he already came inside you but now he’s just teasing you, admiring his own cum overflowing your cunt with the stupidest grin spreading on his face. “we may not be together anymore but you’re the one beggin' for more all the time.”

“don’t be stupid,” you grumble, giving him a returning glare - and oddly enough, that only turns him on. “you’re only good for a quick f-fuck.”

“oh. soooo you’re just using me,” he pouts, leaning in to give you a kiss, but pauses and that’s when he goes back inside you, barely giving you time to adjust and your nails find its way into the edges of his back. his dick was so lengthy, a perfect fit for your pussy and you whine once he leans into you, body to body, and he’s so warm.

“who knew you were a such a player, baby,” he utters, moving in close to lick a stripe up your neck. “but we both know that isn’t true. you keep comin' back to me 'cause you’ll never find someone who can fuck you deep as good as me. i mean, i don’t blame you…. i’d be pretty pissed too. especially with a size like mine. there there.”

gojo goes on to ramble mid-fuck, like he always does and he’s so annoying, but his heavy size makes up for it entirely.

“i hate you-” was all you managed to spit out, and you moan once you feel gojo press a hand against your tummy, he’s feeling the slight bulge and it makes him smile knowing how big he is. “cocky bastard.”

“ehhh but you love this cocky bastard though.” he sings, pursing his lips together in a mocking way, and he’s fucking you again with his hips rocking and swaying against you, gojo grabs onto your hands, playfully squeezing them before noticing your lip starting to tremor. “oh? you gonna cry for me, princess? forgot how much of a crybaby you were whenever you get close.”

you don’t reply, just lock your legs around his slutty waist and he chuckles at your clinginess.

“….speechless… just… like… that, that’s so cute but sad. thought i taught this pussy better,” he mocks, and you moan right up against his ear from his dick going against your clit repeatedly, you take a few stops to smear your lips together or control your breathing and gojo’s sliding in and out of you, preparing to gift you with another dump of his cum to fill you full.

his inches nearly have you drooling—you want more and more but you’d never flat out say that to gojo satoru of all people. he smooches your cheek and flashes that cheesy cocky grin, before giving you more ropes of his cum, admiring the way your legs shook before spreading your legs open to get a good enough view of the way it drips down your thighs.

“oh…. damn. you’re on the pill…. right?”

“……”

“RIGHT?”

[parfaitblogs]

north star ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you're up late doing an assignment, and spencer reid has a nightmare. 

pairing: spencer reid x uni student!reader genre: comfort  tags: post prison reid. & his trauma. & his fears. casual nudity (showering together). hurt/angst but its secondhand. which is what we call empathy... yes... reader mentioned being hurt in a nightmare. word count: 2.3k a/n: i got a request recently with a similar sort of premise to this, so while it isn't exact this is indeed for you... north star is one of my all time favourite searows songs. here's to being spencer reid's north star. and also a university student awake at 4am. 

Spencer Reid had not slept in his own bed in three weeks.

The couch in the centre of his apartment had become a constant pile of blankets and pillows, a — probably permanent — indent of his body pressed into the cushions. The coffee table a littering of books he had read through, contact solution, and, when he wasn't reading, his glasses. Always.

You had gotten used to sleeping alone in an apartment somebody else was residing in after the first few days, leaving the bedroom door open so you could hear the sound of pages of a book turning, and faintly see the silhouette of your boyfriend out in the living room. It was comforting enough that it willed you to sleep, though the longing for him to be beside you never dulled.

Tonight was no different. In fact, the only slight change from your usual routine, was the fact that you were the one still awake, and he was fast asleep. Albeit, it was four in the morning, and you most certainly should not be up. 

Your face was illuminated uncomfortably by the blue light of your laptop, a knee beneath your chin as you stared blankly at the half written essay in front of you. You were tired, and all you wanted was to be in bed. Unfortunately, your university had the worst deadlines imaginable, and three o'clock in the afternoon was creeping up on you and this unfinished assignment fast. 

Your head lifted at the sound of blankets rustling, expecting to be met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping Spencer Reid. Instead, he was sat upright, blanket covering his silhouette, though not hiding the heaving of his chest; the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

"Spence?" you called out from his desk that you were currently residing at, still slightly unsure if he was actually awake — he had sleep walked one of the earlier nights. 

He didn't respond. You watched as he hunched over, and you could make out the action of his fingers burying in his hair. 

Assignment be damned, you pushed the wheelie chair back and stood up, hands fidgeting with one another as you headed over to the couch. 

"Spencer?" you said his name again as you hesitantly got closer, not wanting to startle him too much if he was about to start sleep walking. 

His head lifted, and you felt your heart slow in relief when his eyes met yours. Short lived relief, however, for the soft glow of the lamp across the room illuminated him just enough for you to catch the glassiness in his eyes, the sticking of his hair to his forehead from sweat, and the frightened look on his face. 

"Hey," you greeted, quietly, one step after the other carrying you over to him, and you crouched down in front of the couch. 

"Nightmare," he muttered, simply, voice hoarse. 

"Ah," you nodded in recognition, hands flexing by your side with the need to touch him. "You wanna talk about it?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but you didn't press any further for a response as he zoned out on the coffee table behind you for a few moments. When his gaze finally landed back on you, he stared blankly at your face, finding the words inside his brain. 

"They hurt you," he managed to choke out successfully, voice heavy with whatever was lodged in his throat. 

You didn't have to ask who they were, your eyes flickering in acknowledgement of what he was telling you. "They can't," you settled on saying. 

"I know," was his response, eyes dropping to his lap, the blanket falling from his shoulders as his posture hunched over even more. "But they did. And I couldn't do anything about it."

You despised being speechless in front of him. The silence layering over the two of you in a dimly lit room, a heavy blanket translating your lack of words for what he was going through. He always knew what to say to you, and yet, Spencer Reid being traumatised from prison was a concept you could never seem to grasp no matter how hard you tried. Not fully, at least. What on Earth is there to say to somebody who was having nightmares like this? What comfort could you provide?

You hesitated, then reached out, clasping one of his hands within your own, bringing it to your face. Every action was cautious on his end, but you managed to splay his fingers across your cheek, palm resting against the skin. Gently, for despite everything that had changed about Spencer in prison, his gentleness for you had not.

"I'm okay," you whispered to him, and it was then that he registered what you were trying to do. 

He carried more weight in his hand, committing the feeling of your warm, active skin to memory. His fingers stretched and found the pulse of your neck, for no reason other than to feel it beat against the tip of them. It was minutes of sitting in this silence, his eyes firmly shut, while yours studied his face. Every parting of his lips, every irregular breath he took in and exhaled, every slight twitch in his eyebrow. Everything. 

When he finally opened his eyes, breathing a little less erratic and gaze a lot less afraid, you spoke. "Shower?" 

Wordlessly he nodded his head, and allowed you to lift him to his feet, trudging after you with short steps, that you waited for patiently. 

It had taken a week for Spencer to shower again upon coming home. And since then, you had needed to be there for every single one. A stark contrast to the man who isolated himself much more now — needing to be able to see you as he showered. He never explained it, but you sort of knew why.

He stripped of his shirt at the same time as you, his torso no longer the palette of purple and yellow it had been weeks ago. Which should be comforting to you. And yet, as his bruises faded, so did his already dampened spark. The excitement of coming home wearing off, as he was forced to face everything he had endured for a quarter of a year. 

And you tried not to hold it against him, or even be upset about it. It is not his fault existing everyday has become an uphill battle, and it certainly isn't his fault he's horrified of seemingly normal things. But you missed him. It. The light of the man you fell in love with.

The two of you stepped into the shower, in silence, once you had rid yourselves of your clothes, and despite the cold air nipping at your bare skin, you let him stand under the water for as long as he needed to. Visibly watching him sink further into his skeleton, shoulders drooping. He reached for you, hesitantly, and you allowed him to decide where to place his hands. Eventually, one looped around your waist and pressed against the small of your back to step closer to him, the outer water droplets from the showerhead spraying uncomfortably onto your face. Your face scrunched, and your head jerked back, and his lips pulled into a frown. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping back, and your heart sank at the frown on his lips. 

"It's okay," you answered, voice soft. "Can I wash your hair?"

"Yes," he confirmed with a nod, ducking his head down when you reached for shampoo. 

Shaking, your fingers worked lathered shampoo through his hair. Your heart sank at the sight of him, for his shoulders were tensing with every stroke of your fingertips against his scalp. 

"You're stuck in your head," you observed, guiding his head back under the water to rinse the soap out of his locks. 

"Mm," was all he replied with.

"How can I get you out of it?" 

"I can't even get myself out of it," he mumbled.

You don't know what to say. Again. There's only so much you can say to him when he's like this, and even then, most of the time he won't listen. Too overwhelmed with the flashing images of you hurt, usually, the screaming guilt in his brain.

"I'm not hurt, Spence," you decided to tell him instead. 

"I know," he responded, voice pleading, though you knew he wasn't pleading with you. "But I can't get the image of you like that out of my mind."

You fell silent. Again. 

"Sorry," he repeated, his apologising incessant. Though, you knew better than to tell him not to apologise anymore.

Instead, while your fingers worked conditioner through the ends of his hair, you brought up another idea. "How about we go to the roof?"

"It's four in the morning," he murmured. 

"Like that's ever stopped you from doing anything ever," you huffed, and his lips twitched.

"It'll be cold," he argued, watching your shoulders deflate with his second denial of the idea. His own heart dropped. "Yeah, okay. We can go to the roof."

"We don't have to," you said, guiding his head back under the water. "Not if you don't want to."

"I just don't want you to get sick," he replied.

"Don't worry about me."

"I do."

You knew that. It was his constant worry for your wellbeing that led you to these moments.

"Come on."

Stepping out of the shower, you handed him the first towel, wrapping one around yourself afterwards. You picked up both toothbrushes and gave him one of them, leaning against the edge of the sink.

Every movement he now completed was calculated. Hesitant. He was almost completely stationary as he brushed his teeth, if not for the slight shake in his arm with each stroke. But he was staring at you, and it was the kindness in his eyes that kept your heart from falling apart in front of him. 

By the time you had reached the roof, he was a little more conversational, even smiling at your attempt at a joke (though, you were pretty sure that wasn't very genuine).

"Come here," you said, holding your arms out in front of you, walking backwards. He caught up to you, clasping your hands within his own, movement akin to a rag doll as you tugged him closer. 

"No," he protested when you placed his hands on your waist, clocking precisely what you were doing with him within seconds. 

"Yes," you argued, encircling your arms around his neck. "Humour me for a bit."

"I thought we were looking at the stars."

"You thought wrong."

Despite himself and his disdainful grumbling, he let you sway your two bodies, a silent dance amongst the distant, quiet hum of car engines. 

"I don't like dancing," he said, after a few long minutes.

"I know."

"So why did you take me up here to dance?"

The sharp sentences had become a staple in Spencer Reid's speech, though usually unintentional, and usually going unnoticed by him. They still hurt.

"Because," you began, forcing your eyes to fixate on his face, and not the scattering of stars and silhouettes of buildings you could see stretched out behind him. "You're thinking about how much you don't like dancing."

"Yes. I am."

You stilled your bodies and stared at him for a few beats, expectantly, until it rolled over in his brain, and he realised what you were doing. You had, successfully, distracted him from the nightmare. 

He didn't say anything more, but his eyes had softened, and you knew from that he was thankful. Silent communication had become your shared best friend with Spencer.

"I don't know how to stop them," he mumbled, head bowing and unkempt curls covered his face, that you were quick to brush back, hands resting on either side of his jawline. "The nightmares."

"I don't know either," you answered, hating the sound of the words coming out of your mouth. You despised not having all the answers for him, like he probably would for you. "Therapy, I guess."

"I've been doing therapy. Everyday. It isn't helping."

"You've been home less than a month."

"But it isn't getting any better."

Your chest ached, meeting his gaze once again as he snapped his head up on his words. Uncomfortable desperation dressed his face, and it was as though he was crumbling right there in front of you — your hands unable to pick up the shattered pieces quick enough. 

You hadn't dealt with a trauma wound this bad, this fresh, ever. You weren't equipped for that. A university assignment, that sat incomplete in a softly lit apartment, for a degree you were yet to claim, proved that. Spencer knew that. He knew you wouldn't have the answers he needed; they were answers even he didn't have. 

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly. "This isn't fair on you."

No, it wasn't. And you don't want to imagine how you would be in his position instead, but you were pretty sure you'd be just as bad, if not worse. 

"Please don't apologise for feeling things," you decided to say instead. "You're allowed to feel things."

"I've been horrible."

"You've been human."

He fell silent at that, and when you were sure he didn't have any other incessant apologies or heartbreaking discoveries to drop on you at — what was now probably — five o'clock in the morning, you offered him your arms. Arms he took, and arms he allowed to wrap him up in an embrace you wanted to die with. 

Silence communicated words you couldn't say to one another. Echoing I love you's ricocheted around in your brain, and you hoped they did in his too. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.8

08 : TONIGHT

CHPT. SUM. : you finally get to call them yours and they finally get to call you theirs and it's amazing! but something's missing...and it absolutely has something to do with the ache between your legs! 

LENGTH : 6.1k

TAGS. : very suggestive chapter ; boys and reader being horny for each other ; but do we blame them? no. we. don't! ; james being a pest ; sirius being a hot biker ; remus being a gentleman ; reader being a brat ; remus not being a gentleman anymore ; prologue to nsfw chapter

← PREV. : 07 | APOLOGIES & COMFORT | SERIES M.LIST

You don’t know what you expected when the boys slowly began integrating you into their already-established relationship. In the beginning, you were worried about feeling like an outsider. From what they’ve shared with you, the boys have been best friends since their secondary school years, meaning that their history with each other was deeply rooted and you were intimidated, to say the least. You’re just a simple girl they helped protect from a creep a year or so ago. You couldn’t possibly stack up to the type of love they have with each other.

This was a reasonable insecurity to have, the boys understood that and were always there to reassure you of its negligible influence. And when their words weren’t enough, they happily showered you in affection, from loving kisses to warm embraces. They flirted shamelessly, left lingering touches scorched along your exposed skin and pulled you into kisses that ranged from feather-light to deeply passionate, they were eager to kiss and squeeze that vulnerability away until it no longer remained in your beautiful eyes. And you appreciate them so much for their efforts.

Not a second goes by when you don’t feel loved by them, or underappreciated. The love you reciprocated, although much softer and, somewhat, apprehensive, always made them melt into your arms. It was quite the trial considering how much bigger these men were compared to you. But you didn’t mind. Their warmth and weight against you only reinforced the realness of the situation, your situation, your relationship.

This was a dream come true – the best-case scenario for the mounting love you were amassing for each of the three tattooed and pierced men working at the parlour. If you told yourself this would be the outcome months ago, you wouldn’t have believed your ears.

“You’ve got that starry look in your eyes again, dollface,” Sirius chuckles as he presses a loving kiss to your fluttering eyelids, “what are you thinking? Hmmm?” The tattooist currently had you in his lap, disregarding the clock face on the wall. He was supposed to be preparing for a client who would be arriving soon but, instead of being a responsible tattooist, he had himself preoccupied with you.

“Sirius, you’ve got a client coming soon,” you pout, appearing more stressed over his appointment than he is.

As dramatic as always, Sirius put on a big show of missing you, his arms flailing about with his voice fluctuating in his theatrics, “But I’m feeling very deficient in vitamin ‘you’, sweetheart! I need to get my necessary second dose,” you roll your eyes at his playfulness and quietly argue about how this wasn’t his second dose.

“Rather, it’s been your fourth or fifth dose already,” giggling, you endeavour to kiss his pout away before trying to leave so he could have the time to prepare for his appointment while you caught up on your university assignments. Next thing you know, he has you nestled into his lap with your coursework papers set aside and your laptop closed shut. All your attention needed to be on him; he wanted it all.

“We have eight minutes,” he wagered deviously.

You’ve come to find out that Sirius was pretty spoiled when it came to affection. The distinction becomes even more apparent when you compare him to Remus and James. Thankfully, that translated into Sirius happily initiating affection as much as he pleads for it. He’s just this handsome, broad man with the most beautiful grin and the prettiest grey eyes separated by his perfect nose – he’s irresistible, really. And you know that he knows it too; all he has to do is pull those puppy-dog eyes and he gets anything and everything he wants. It’s almost frustrating how he wins your favour each time but you never regret giving into him.

No. Never for Sirius.

…Or Remus. Or James. God, you love these men so damn much!

“Doll?” he tilts his head adorably, a habit he’s picked up from the personified golden retriever himself – James.

“It’s nothing,” you hum, combing your fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to his slightly scratchy jaw. His stubble was growing out ever so slightly and began to cast a light shadow across the lower half of his handsome face.

“Can’t be nothing,” he protests, delivering a loving nuzzle into the crown of your hair, “are you falling for me?~ Tell me the truth, beautiful girl,” he’s as playful as ever, an expert in heating up your cheeks for his own entertainment, “I know you’re shy but you’re also very honest, hmm?” you don’t respond and keep your focus trained on the rose tattoo creeping up his neck, with its expertly shaded thorns and petals. “I might just give you a reward if you’re honest with me,”

With a small smile, you peek up at him from beneath your lashes. The shadows they cast over your vision distract from the obvious pink hue exploding across his cheeks as soon as he catches your gaze, god! Could you get any more beautiful? You need to stop looking at him like that but also, please keep looking at him and never look away again! “I’ve already fallen for you, Sirius Black,”

Sirius’ jaw goes slack as his playful demeanour collapses under you. The prettiest smile he’s ever seen stretches across your plump lips, so kissable and laced with a shy playfulness he’s fallen in love with.

You drive him absolutely mad…

… and he loves it!

James adores scooping you up into his arms. Not only is your resounding squeal the most adorable thing he’s ever heard but he just cherishes the feel of you tucked up in his embrace. For the first time, he fully understands the expression of describing one’s significant other as their whole world. Because when he has you giggling in his arms, clinging to his neck and nuzzling your face into the space under his jaw, James feels as though he’s got the entire world in his arms – he can accomplish anything and everything he sets his mind to. With you in his arms, he’s invincible; there’s a power that surges through him, a little like adrenaline but not quite so. It’s more powerful. He doesn't know what it is or how exactly to articulate its distinctions but he feels its fullness and capabilities like no other. He is the ruler of an empire, a conqueror with his perfect queen ruling beside him.

He is the leading character of a poignant Shakespearean play with you as his equally established partner. He is one half of a star and you are the other. Each is a ridiculous example but each also feels so fitting.

Of course… Only you could have ignited such an unfounded emotion within him.

“You feel it too, right Moony?” James whispers whilst he and the tall body piercer observe your happy movements gracefully puttering about their upstairs office, organising stacks of paperwork for them.

“Love?” Remus asks. It should be the obvious answer – you’re the protagonist of their conversation after all – but astute to James’ unique expressions for the natural and mundane, the brunette knows it’s going to be one of those times when James strongly feels a certain way and finds it hard to put into words. It makes Remus smile knowing that it’s about you – it’s surely something he can sympathise with James on.

“I guess but… it's different, somehow,” he doesn’t quite know how to articulate it, he just feels it. In his chest, in his fingertips, in his throat, in his stomach, even in his toes – he feels it everywhere. How could he not? Just looking at you, James can already justify that what he was feeling was perfectly admissible, whether he could put it into words or not. What he feels is true, it’s real and it gets stronger (almost achingly so) whenever he looks at you. The apple of his eye… never had an expression fit so well.

“I understand,” Remus voices after a deep, rumbling hum. His gaze soon turns to the tattoo artist beside him, fond eyes softening and stepping much closer to him, “I feel it too — for her and you, and Sirius,”

“That’s a given,” James grins boyishly up at his best friend and precious lover before he’s pulled into a loving kiss.

Tucking your chin a little over your shoulder, you glimpse the inviting image of your two lovers locking lips. It was heartening to see that their love for one another hadn’t changed because of your recent entanglement with them too. There was always a little corner of worry in your heart for potentially breaking their bond due to your interference.

The last time you let that same emotion control you, the aftereffects were explosive and unnecessarily wounding to all parties so you keep the emotion in check often, the boys too. But there was no complete dismissal of it. As much as you adore the boys and their love for you, you also adore their love for each other. It was incredibly inspiring to see what they had built together. Their parlour, their love, their quaint, shared flat.

But now, you also had the privilege of seeing them share more intimate acts of love and it was leading to a bad habit, a bad staring habit. So much so that you didn’t notice the two breaking away from each other until their devious smirks were solely directed at you.

“Care to join us, my dear?” Remus calls his voice like a hypnotising whisper, pulling invisible strings to shift your feet forward and lure you in. In no time at all, you’re close enough for the two to lock you between their strong, tattooed arms and finally launch their attack. You’re not complaining.

You’re so grateful to be able to join in their love and be with them like this. And you’re curious about what the four of you would end up building together one day. Rather than a small flat, maybe a house? A family? With kids? Fur-babies? A cat or dog? Maybe both? Regardless, one promise was absolutely certain: a happy life that’s bursting at the seams with love – it was a very compelling thought.

Finally winding down for the night, you separate from the boys and remain tucked away in their neatly prepared spare bedroom. James and Sirius were proud to announce that they had tidied the place up for you; Remus would have contributed as well if it weren’t for him being the main man who handled the paperwork for the parlour.

You thanked the two for their thoughtfulness with a kiss but also kissed Remus for his hard work in ‘keeping their business alive’. It was a cheeky remark but one that got an adorable pout from James and Sirius along with a well-humoured laugh from the tall brunette himself. There was a love in his eyes that made you weak in the knees, his chocolate pools staring down at you, threatening to drown you in their warmth, his fingers ghosting the skin of your chin and ever so gently tilting your face to admire your features better. He moved as if he were propping up a delicate art piece, not wanting to press too harshly but enough to warrant a sensitive and lingering touch.

“You spoil us,” he utters as a heat blooms across your cheeks and a small peep pushes past your lips. Mistaking your incoherent squeak for verbal thought, Remus bends down at the waist with curious and furrowed brows, “What was that, my dear?” James and Sirius lightly snicker to themselves from the interaction. You would have scolded them for their childish behaviour if Remus didn’t have you melting into a puddle from doing absolutely nothing!

“I-It’s nothing, Rem,” thankfully, he didn’t need much convincing. Having him that close was intimidating – you just can’t believe that this beautiful, soft-spoken, loving and gentle giant of a man is yours.

The boys had allowed you to use the bathroom first and followed after you for their night routine. From where you sat at the vanity, you often catch yourself smiling and sometimes even giggling when you hear their antics echoing through the hallway. It was all very amusing and you had to bite your lip when thoughts of normalising this scenario into a nightly routine materialised in your head. It was still early on in your otherwise unconventional relationship and you didn’t want to risk anything. An eagerness for more was healthy but over-eagerness wouldn’t be worth potentially commencing an accelerated rate of negative interactions.

Going through your nightly skincare, you hum a soft tune to yourself. It felt like you were at your own flat, getting ready for bed as if it was any other night and the familiarity was surprising. You didn’t feel out of place at all despite the new environment. Although, you wouldn't expect anything less from your boys. They really knew how to make you feel welcome. At least you know that you’ll be sleeping restfully tonight.

“Almost ready for bed, Angel?” James’ sudden appearance in the doorway makes you tense before playfully pouting at him, especially when he has the gall to giggle at your startled reaction, “Awww~ don’t be like that, love~” he coos, walking up to stand behind your seated form. He, too, bends at the waist to kiss behind your ear and trail loving pecks down your neck to the slopes of your shoulder.

“My night routine is meant to be relaxing, Jamie,” you huff but he can hear the smile in your voice and looks up with his beautiful eyes, meeting your gaze in the vanity mirror. Slowly, he pulls his lips away from your exposed shoulder.

With a devilish smirk, he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, “I can help you with that…” You feel his feathery touch tracing the curves of your waist, coming up from your hips, “Relaxing, I mean~”

“James!”

He throws his head back with a laugh that makes his shoulders shake and his pretty curls bounce ever so slightly. He’s risen to his full height now and resists the urge to caress the skin of your cheek, respectful of your freshly applied skincare — he’s had to put up with Sirius’ grumbles and whines after mistakenly kissing his still dewy, moisturised cheek on previous nights. And James wouldn’t want to ruin your first night here like that. He’s no amateur. Instead, James concedes to caressing your hair and placing a loving kiss onto your crown. He loves the combined smell of your hair products and natural scent. It’s solely you; a fragrance that could never be contained in a bottle, which is, both, a pity and a relief. A pity that he can’t carry a small bottle around whenever he’s missing you horribly bad. But a relief that something so intimate about you couldn’t be shared beyond him, Sirius and Remus. James would rather set the world ablaze before that ever came to fruition.

“Alright, my love, I’ll leave you be…” you begin to sigh in relief until, “-for now~”

“James!” you giggle sweetly, and he joins you not too long after, “You’re such a pest!”

He cackles adorably as he walks back to the door, making his exit swift and injury-free – he, just barely, evades your swatting hands. The two of you gradually allow your shared merriment to fade into a comfortable silence. You return to completing your skincare routine while James remains at the doorway.

From afar, the tattooist quietly admires your figure, elegant and so… so girly as you go through your nightly regime. It wasn’t a bad thing seeing your femininity shine through was refreshing. Sure, Sirius partook in the same self-care religiously, at the start of every day and the beginning of every night but you, with your cosy pyjamas, fuzzy slippers, panda ears headband and prettily laid out products, have James bewitched; entranced in the most blissful way. He likes seeing and observing you like this. So comfortable that there isn’t a single change in your routine; so comfortable that you’re humming to yourself; so comfortable that you look like you belong here. Truthfully, he’s wanted to ask you to move in for quite some time now but understands the importance of going at a steady pace and one that everyone agrees on.

You all finally have each other to call your own, that’s what truly mattered at the end of the day. So he holds himself back.

The routine you have is quite thorough so you’re not one to exclude your neck area or chest. As you adjust your clothes to prep your neck and chest area, James glimpses more and more of your skin each time. Naturally, his cheeks colour a soft pink while his thoughts are gradually consumed by all the things he wants to do to you — bending you over every piece of furniture in the flat, not discounting the walls or the carpeted floor, even atop and inside his beloved car. Every hot and crude detail is uncensored, the images that flash in his head are dangerously explicit and encompass you wholely. Your pleasure is his top priority. He’ll have you moaning in his ear, panting for breath as he goes faster, harder, whatever you want, as long as you keep singing for him. Singing until you’re screaming and reaching your peak over and over and over—

“The door locks, y’know,” James mentions casually, not surprising you as much this time. Although his random comment does make you raise a brow.

“Oh?” you apply your berry-flavoured lip mask and smile at him through the mirror with a hint of curiosity, “Okay, thank you for telling me, Jamie,” it still wasn’t clear to you what he was trying to get at with his casual but warning remark.

“Are you going to lock it for the night?” his question makes you stop for a moment, what was he trying to say? “I think you should lock it, angel… you don’t want any surprise visitors — it’s hard resisting you this long,” he had a teasing smile on his lips but there was a dark look in his eyes that made you shudder. That’s what he meant…

“A-alright,”

He pauses, appearing to contemplate something as he leans forward but ultimately decides against his earlier intentions and straightens his posture accordingly, “that’s my good girl,” you watch his sly smirk disappear from the vanity mirror. It takes you a few moments longer to return to your skincare routine.

Sirius smirks at you with an amused glint in his eye, “do you want to sit on it?” he asks, his big hand gently patting the seat of his bike. Being able to see right through you and read your inner thoughts was one of Sirius’ many talents. It amazed you but also made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Were you really that transparent and readable? To Sirius, you were, but that’s only because he’s grown to have a keen eye for you and your little quirks; he finds them adorable and adores being able to read your thoughts, so that he knows he’s catering to you well.

Your hesitation is obvious. It’s not like you haven’t ridden on his motorbike before; you’ve ridden on it plenty of times. However, it was usually with you seated behind Sirius. For a while, you contemplated whether or not it would feel different to be the actual biker. You didn’t know how to ride a motorbike so you were secretly hoping that Sirius would allow you to hop on after he did his routine motorbike maintenance. It was common to do these checks and services every 6 months, but because Sirius used his motorbike so often, he tracked the regular services based on the miles he covered. He’s already crossed 4000 miles so his bike was due for some maintenance already.

“Are you sure?” you ask in a voice that’s so soft and sweet, Sirius can’t help but temper his smirk into a warm smile.

“It’s safe, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t okay with it,” the bright grin you gifted him made Sirius question why he hadn’t thought to make such an offer sooner. It was clear that you were interested in his bike but he didn’t know whether or not he was deciphering your intentions correctly, until now. With a skip in your step, you make your way over as Sirius chuckles to himself.

You’re just too cute~

“Thank you, Siri,” you reach up to cup his jaw and gently guide him down to press a loving kiss against his cheek.

“Anything for you, Doll,” he kisses your cheek as well, just before you get the chance to pull too far away from him. Sirius then guides you onto his motorbike, offering to stabilise you with his hands on your hips as you get settled on the seat. With his strength alone, he takes the bike off his kickstand and straightens it from the back so that you can experience what it’s really like without the bike being slanted to the side. The tattooist is much taller than you and so you aren’t able to fully flatfoot your feet, instead your toes barely brush the ground. Seeing that you’re able to just swing your feet back and forth, a quiet giggle escapes you – music to Sirius’ ears.

“This is fun!” you cheer softly, still quite shy as you glance over your shoulder with a flutter of your lashes, meeting eyes with the inked-up biker, who was grinning brightly at you. His strong arms are on full display, tattoos and all, as he holds the bike straight and steady from behind. He’s dressed in a simple black tank top and loose grey joggers. It’s a style that James often wears around their flat but you’re not surprised that Sirius was able to pull off the look too. With a face like his, you can easily determine that he’d suit any style he tries on.

“Why don’t you try pretending you’re actually riding it by grabbing onto the handles,” he encourages, excited. Having James, Remus and you as his loves were heaven on earth, but being able to share one of his favourite hobbies and his beloved motorbike fostered a different kind of haven in his heart. It’s overflowing and shows easily in his voice.

“Okay!” eagerly, you lean forward to grasp onto the handles and, with a feverish buzz, pretend you’re actually riding the bike out on the road. From backpacking behind Sirius so often, imagining the shift in positions and being the actual biker was quite easy. What a thrill! No wonder Sirius makes up any excuse to be out on his bike.

Yes, you’re still stationary but it’s just too easy to imagine everything, from the wind in your hair to the adrenaline pumping through your veins, encouraged by the rapidly passing views on either side of you. A view of the seaside at sunset is very appealing but winding country roads also offer great scenery. You can hear your heartbeat rising to match your vision and you have to bite your lip to contain an elated laugh. There’s no need to embarrass yourself even more, especially with Sirius behind you.

So stuck in your pretending, you miss Sirius’ partially restrained groan of frustration from behind your leant-over figure, “Fuck. Me…” he has the perfect view of your ass. And when you’re bent over his bike like this, his joggers tighten up around his crotch alarmingly fast. Never mind that the joggers were already very loose-fitting, he can’t help himself when you’re offering him such a spectacular view. And to have it be on top of his motorbike too…

The things you do to him… the things he would do to you.

Suppressing another groan, Sirius hurries to free his kickstand and lean his bike over before you realise what’s happening. It takes a lot of strength and agility but his focus has narrowly concentrated on you and nothing was going to get in his way. He has to resist going all the way – for now – but that doesn’t mean resigning himself to zero contact at all.

“Siri–?!” you squeal in surprise when he lifts you off his bike and positions you in a way that forces your legs to wrap around his hips from fear of falling, while his arms circle your hips, “what’s this all about?” you give an adorable tilt of your head as you look down at him, perched a little higher on his torso so that your hands could place themselves on his sturdy shoulders while his arm provides a sort of seat for you underneath.

“I’ll show you what this is about,” his voice is several octaves lower, barely recognisable from where they resonate at the far back of his throat. His big hands grab the globes of your ass and lower you down from your upper perch so that he grinds your covered pussy lips against his erect cock. Even through the fabric of his joggers, the sheer size of him is obvious and it’s mortifying how wet you get. He keeps you pressed against him as he swallows your shocked gasp, prying your lips apart with his tongue so he can explore your sweet mouth.

“...you can’t be showing your perfect ass like that – so pretty on top of my bike – without facing the consequences, dollface,”

“But!” you manage to protest between his eager lips, “but you said–!”

“I know what I said,” he bites at your lower lips and grinds against you, “I guess we’re both at fault that I’m like this right now, huh, baby?” he pulls away to suck and nibble on your neck, loving the moans he draws from you, “Nothing a little loving can’t fix, right?”

He won’t go too far… just a little grinding here and there while he devours your pretty little mouth. That’s all he’s asking for. And, being the lovely, kind princess that you are, of course, you oblige him.

“A-alright…” you conceded, finally trying to match his level of eagerness when his lips connected with yours once more.

“That’s my girl~”

The initial week everything came to a head, where all was revealed and you ended up spending the night at the boys’ flat, only for disaster to hit in the form of your period the next day was weeks behind you now. You're surprised that a week after that – when you had finally gotten off your dreaded period – Remus didn’t pounce on you. Nor did James. Or Sirius. Now an entire month has passed and still nothing. James and Sirius have been more impassioned than Remus but it appears as though they’re more united than ever on the simple fact of ‘going easy’ on you.

The tall brunette insinuated such provocative things that night. Thinking back to that moment makes butterflies explode in your stomach, all while a ravenous heat spreads chaotically throughout your body. That same heat then stubbornly settles between your legs and in your lower belly. You’re ashamed to admit that you were really looking forward to what Remus planned on doing to you…

But now he’s being the perfect gentleman again and you don’t know what to do!

You love how gentlemanly he is, kissing you sweetly on the cheek, whispering loving, poetic words only for you to hear, listening to anything and everything you wanted to say with the utmost attention and interest, pulling doors open for you, doing little favours that made your days go by smoother and so much more. It felt incredibly unreasonable to complain when there was nothing to complain about! Though… were you really complaining? If you think about it, all you would be doing is expressing your opinion and providing some constructive criticism for what you want out of the relationship – there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?

When you officially became theirs and them, yours, it was established and emphasised heavily by Remus, himself, that communication was key to having a successful and loving relationship. If something was wrong, you could go to them without any hesitation; they promised to never disregard your worries or dismiss them apathetically. And you made the same promise to them, in return. If they were ever feeling insecure about something in the relationship then they could communicate any concerns they have to you without feeling an ounce of fear. By verbalising your, somewhat, embarrassing internal torment, you’d be keeping your promise and prioritising communication — just like you all promised each other!

So you have nothing to worry about…

It’s just a little hard to verbalise that’s all…

…maybe you should wait until after dinner tonight? Remus looks a little busy right now…

“Don’t look at me with those eyes, pretty girl,” Remus’ low, bordering seductive, voice tenses your nerves, pulling a lazy chuckle from the back of his throat at the adorable sight of your surprise, “you’re distracting me,” he emphasises his statement with the tap of his pen onto the papers laid out before him. Despite his comment, however, he doesn’t sound angry and he’s not frowning either. Instead, Remus has his chin in the palm of his hand and tilts his head at you, smiling fondly at your visage.

“You look like you don’t mind it,” you shot back, voice shy but quippy, parallel to the defiant folding of your arms.

Remus throws his head back with a laugh before shaking his head at you. His smile widens and he bites his lower lip to force it down just a little bit. As you put on a playful pout, your earlier thoughts slipping from your mind, the tattooed body piercer rolls over to you on his wheeled office chair.

Reaching you in a few long strides, knee to knee, he disregards your sassy comment and simply asks, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

A heat crawls up your neck and settles on the apples of your cheeks as your earlier contemplations return. It’s a little hard to muster up your courage to speak right now. And, conveniently, the carpeted floors look very interesting all of a sudden.

“I-It was nothing,” you unfold your arms and fidget with the hem of your pleated skirt; your gaze still fixed onto the office’s dark grey carpet.

He quirks a brow but doesn’t say anything despite the question evident in his chocolate-brown eyes. His gaze holds onto your own, the small smile on his lips calming your earlier taut nerves. In your peripheral, Remus slides his fingertips over the skin of your thighs, his movement careful and feathery until he hears you suck in a sharp breath. As soon as your eyes widen, shocked by his unexpected touch and you release a sharp gasp, Remus throws all care out the window. He proceeds to slide his grip under your thighs and, hoists you up and over to sit on his lap. Thankfully his office chair doesn’t have any armrests so he’s able to comfortably seat you there, pretty as can be.

“You’re sure you can’t tell me?” he asks in a murmur, muffled by the skin of your temple as he presses a soft kiss there.

“It’s really nothing!” you squeak, avoiding his eyes and missing his fond smile as he watches you fumbling with your hands. He keeps you perfectly seated on his lap from where he firmly grips your outer thighs. Your skin is so soft and smooth with the perfect amount of fluff, to fill it in – he loves all of you but if he had to choose, he’d say your thighs were his favourite feature.

“You can be honest with me,” you don’t answer, tucking your flustered face into the crook of his neck instead. Fondly, he begins to caress the back of your head with one hand, the other still on your thigh. He lowers his voice into a quiet murmur so only you can hear, “Why don’t you whisper it to me instead?”

Funnily enough, his suggestion, no matter how simple, was convincing. It was meant for his ears only and you didn’t want to risk anyone else hearing your inner thoughts out loud. Also, the idea of whispering your carnal contemplations felt… safer somehow. Intimate too but you ran with it, your thoughts begging to be released.

Leaning up, you place one hand on his broad chest, the other on his shoulder so as to position your lips beside his ear with enough stability, “I was just thinking about…umm,”

“Hmm?...” you feel his thumbs caressing the skin of your thighs — a comforting gesture that you feel embarrassed for being unsuited to your pending admission.

“About you…”

Something flashes in his eyes, “...What about me, my love?” he hopes to god he hasn’t upset you.

You pause to muster up enough courage, “...about what you said you would do to me that night…” Hopefully, he knows what you’re referring to because you don’t think you’ll be able to articulate his exact words or the entire situation properly. You’re already far too sheepish.

Holding your breath, you wait for some sort of reaction, maybe a spoken word? Something… But Remus’ lips are sealed shut and there’s only silence. Your heart hammers in your ears as you slowly pull away from the safety of your lover’s neck and peek up to gauge his reaction, only to find that his face shows no emotion at all. You’re tempted to whisper his name, a soft prompt and an indirect request for some sort of answer when he’s suddenly pulling you into a deep kiss. One hand cups your jaw as the other explores your curves. His movement and the feeling he imbues in the kiss – all of it points to an impatience and a vicious need, the need to have you in every way possible.

Remus explores the lines of your shape but makes a small sound of displeasure when his hands are unable to sneak up the AC/DC graphic shirt you stole from Sirius as it’s tucked into your pleated skirt. Quickly, he moves his large hands back to your exposed thighs. You hold your breath as you feel his warm touch move up your warm skin, far enough to sneak past the hem of your pleated skirt.

“Please…” Remus relishes in the moan that parts your delicious, bruised lips, “I can take it! Please please please,” you gasp and pant, your shaking voice emphasising your desperation for more. You’ve waited so long, you’ve been so patient, you’re ready for this! The feel of his lips against your skin is addictive but your addiction is insatiable from that alone and you beg for more.

“Are you sure about that?” Remus’ lips make it to the shell of your ear, where his husky voice whispers as he grabs at your ass. With his hands full of you, he pulls you in to grind his bulging hardness against your puffy, lower lips and dampening panties. He relishes in the moans that you can’t contain behind trembling, kiss-bitten lips and smirks when he hears the click of the office door opening.

“She’s ready for us then?” James asks, the smirk on his lips obvious through the smug tone of his voice.

“It’s about damn time,”

Remus smiles as you tuck your flustered face into the crook of his neck and gives your ass a reassuring squeeze beneath your skirt, “Tonight, sweetheart,”

You pout at his remark and pull away with a huff, “No!” you protest defiantly, “Now!” You’re tired of waiting! And what’s the use of their upstairs, private office space if you can’t do private things in it?

“Don’t be a brat, dove,” Remus warns, the usual warmth leaving his eyes as Sirius and James step into the room and close the door behind them but don’t step an inch closer.

“But I’ve waited so long, please Rem, I promise I can take it—” you squeal loudly when a harsh slap hits your ass. So caught up in your needs, you completely missed how Remus used one hand to lift your skirt while his other prepared to deliver penance.

“Rem–!” ignoring your whining, he sits down to bend you over his lap and continues beating your ass despite your shrieks of pain. It wasn’t until you were a whimpering tearful mess that Remus finally relented, his big hand returning to their gentle touches as he comfortingly palms your sore ass. He’s sorry. But you were being a brat.

“Brats don’t deserve to get what they want, even if they say please, do I make myself clear?”

Unable to vocalise properly through your tears and pitiful whimpers, you simply nod your head but squealed when Remus cupped your tender asscheek and gave it a firm squeeze of displeasure, “Y-yes sir,”

“Good girl,” Remus hums softly,

NAVI. | SERIES M.LIST | NEXT : 09 | THE NIGHT... →

A/N : next chapter will be where everything goes down my loves! i hope you're prepared and i'm sorry for making you all wait this long; what can i say? i love a good slow burn smut hehe~

again, i'd like to remind everyone that i have discontinued all my taglists but made a side account for you to follow so you can be notified whenever i post something new, just turn on notifications @thekqipond

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

[intoxicated-chan]

Okay this is an idea I’ve had for a while but imagine Miguel hasn’t had time to fuck his s/o due to spider duties and Alchemax shenanigans. And they’re soooooo fucking horny typically they come to Miggy whenever they have this problem but they don’t want to bother him so they bring out some old tools. Their vibrators from before they started dating. Miguel comes home however right during the middle of you using one of them and he’s soooo mad cause he wants to fuck you. I’ll leave the rest of the fic up to you. 💋 Love you so much!!

You Set My Soul Alight

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel is always busy and leaving you in a mess. But you feel bad bothering him so you look for your past methods to get off.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Supermassive Black Hole” by The Muse. Apologies this took a while.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pet names (Mi amor, cariño) cock blocking, female masturbation, biting, blood, restraints, begging, choking, slightly mean Miguel…

Want more Miguel Content, check out my Masterlist!!

“Miguel.” You moaned out and pushed up against the kitchen counter.

You felt one hand slip under your shirt and, the other went down to your pants, tugging them down.

“Yes, mi amor?” Miguel whispered in your ear, “Use your words.”

“Please… Hurry.” You whined.

His body was up against you. His fingers lightly graze your skin in fear but still were attentive as possible. But you jolted when you felt a finger push inside you.

“Slow.” He murmured, “Slow.”

You continue to whine and moan as his finger moves in and out, then a second finger was added.

“Migu-!” His hand that was previously toying with your skin was now clammed over your mouth.

“So impatient.” He chuckled, “I ought to-“

His phone rings loudly and he curses rather loudly. Marching over it and answering it, talking to whoever was on the other side. But by the looks and sound, it wasn’t good news.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I have to head back to the office.” Miguel tells you.

“Go back? But you just got home a couple of hours ago.” You questioned.

“Well, they let the intern do the filings. I have to head back and fix their mistake.”

You watched him head up to the bathroom, leaving you flustered and bothered.

It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Whenever Miguel had the chance to finally touch you, something always has to interrupt him.

It would’ve been fine if it was for the last couple of days, but it just had to be weeks!

Miguel grumbles in his office, looking over the mess the employees let the intern make. And what’s worse? Oh yeah, he has to go back to the headquarters before Peter B. does something stupid. Why did he leave that idiot in charge again?

He grumbles even more when he gets the notification on his laptop, more emails sent, and more paperwork to look over. Sometimes he wishes he could just ditch work and head back to you. But he knows he’s the boss and he couldn’t be doing that.

And it wasn’t the first time this happened…

You felt Miguel’s crotch press up against yours, his lips kissed down to your neck, placing light kisses before biting down.

Your hands come up to his hair, pulling him away from your neck. You watch him as he smirks, licking the blood off his lips.

“What did I say before?” He murmurs.

“Miguel.” You huffed, “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please-“ His watch rang, making his hiss.

He grabs it, pressing a few buttons. A screen pops up, it’s Gwen, “Yes?”

“Um, how bad would it be if about a dozen villains escaped?”

“Gwen, you do not need me there.”

“Normally, yes. But if it’s all of them…”

“All of them?! How?!”

“I just got here!”

“I’m on my way.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, cariño, it’s-“

“Don’t apologize.” You sit up, “Go, I can take care of this.” Gesturing to the still-bleeding wound.

“I love you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, Miguel.”

It wasn’t just frustrating for him, it was you as well.

You wanted to beg him to stay a little longer, but at the same time, it felt selfish. The HQ would’ve fallen to pieces if Miguel wasn’t there to control the situation.

And now, you laid back on the bed. Usually, you’d keep yourself busy with your work but the ache between your legs was getting unbearable by the second.

You huffed and opened the bedside table, last drawer, and hidden under a blanket was your vibrator. It’s been a while since you last used it, it was before Miguel became slammed with work. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

You took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing. With it up against your clit, you pressed the button. The vibrations made you jolt and your breath hitched. You closed your eyes and let yourself fall into your imagination while pleasure flows throughout your body.

You missed his touch. The way he made you feel. How careful he was with you like you were made of glass. But once he was sure of himself, he’d let himself go.

The way his hands come to your throat, squeezing it before his hands traveled down. But your favorite part is when he finally got to bite your neck. You knew it was his favorite and he wasn’t going to admit it.

Those nights that were pure bliss always heeded carefully, he wanted to be sure that you were okay and-

“Didn’t think you’d miss me this much.” Miguel leans on the door frame. Watching you cover yourself you, “No, no, don’t stop on my account.”

“I-I thought-“

“Yeah, the others had it handled. Came back home once I learned.” Miguel closes the door as he enters the shared bedroom, “So, what’s this?” Snatching the now turned-off toy, “How long have you been using this?”

“Just now.” You tell him.

He climbs onto the bed, “Am I really that disappointing in bed?” Miguel forces your legs open and pulls you closer to him, “Is that the only thing that can get you off?” He starts stripping himself.

“No! You’re more than enough.” You try to sit up but he pushes you back down.

“Then tell me why do you still have these?”

“B-Because you’re so busy, I didn’t want to bother you.”

As if his smirk couldn’t get anymore wider, “All you had to do was use your words.” Miguel holds your hands up against the headboard, using his webbing to keep them secure, “So, tell me. ¿Qué quieres?” (What do you want?)

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, fuck me, Miguel.”

“See, was that so hard?” He chuckles.

He doesn’t bother wasting time preparing, he shoved himself in a single thrust. His hand comes to your throat, apply pressure.

Your legs tightly wrap around him, if he wasn’t already close to you, he is now.

“I’ve got a lot of making up to you.” He growls, “We have all day for it, keep your eyes on me and I’ll give you want you want.”

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.

[lxvsiick]

ICED COFFEE | JAKE SIM X READER

PAIRING: down bad! jake sim x nonchalant! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Jake visits the cafe every day to study but to only order drinks and watch his crush work.

GENRE: cafe, crushing, down bad jake, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1.3k

A/N: I thought of the idea yesterday but wrote it today while thinking about coffee -- i really want some coffee right now but idk if im willing to walk through my campus for that ... um anyways, enjoy!

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The hum of conversation and the clatter of mugs filled the cozy coffee shop, sunlight filtering through the windows as customers quietly worked or chatted. Jake sat at a table near the counter, his textbooks sprawled open in front of him, but his eyes were far from the pages. Instead, they were glued to Y/n as she moved behind the counter, efficiently taking orders and preparing drinks.

He pretended to scribble something down in his notebook, glancing up every few seconds just to watch her pour a latte or chat with a customer. He’d been here for hours, supposedly to study, but all he’d done was order drinks he didn’t even want and admire the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she concentrated.

“Dude, you haven’t touched your notebook in over an hour,” Heeseung suddenly said, sliding into the seat next to him.

Jake jumped, startled out of his trance, as his six friends filed into the coffee shop, smirking knowingly.

“What are you guys doing here?” he muttered, trying to sound casual as he shut his notebook.

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “We’re here to witness this trainwreck.”

The others snickered, pulling up chairs around his table. They were grinning, fully aware of why he was there in the first place. Sunghoon across from him leaned in, smirking. “How many drinks have you ordered so far just to keep watching her?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I’m just...you know, getting some studying done. That’s all.”

“Right,” Ni-ki drawled, glancing over at the counter where Y/n was working. “And totally not here because you’re down bad for her.”

The group broke into quiet laughter, and Jake shot them a warning look. “Shut up, she’ll hear you.”

“She probably already knows,” Sunoo teased. “How could she not? You’ve been sitting here like a lovesick puppy for hours.”

Before he could respond, Y/n came out from behind the counter, walking over to their table with a no-nonsense expression. She glanced at them, her hands on her hips, looking every bit the part of a no-nonsense employee.

“I just got a complaint about a group being too loud,” she said coolly, her eyes flicking to Jake and then back to the rest of them. “Keep it down, or you’re getting kicked out.”

His friends stifled their laughter, shooting each other amused glances, but Jake just sat there, trying—and failing—to look casual.

“Yeah, yeah,” Heeseung said, grinning up at her. “We’ll behave. Promise.”

Y/n nodded, giving them one last look before turning and walking back to the counter. Jake couldn’t help but watch her, and his friends caught him staring—again.

“You’ve got it bad, man,” Jungwon said, shaking his head. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, cheeks flushing slightly. He couldn’t help it. She was right there, and every time she looked his way, it felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest.

Jay leaned in, still chuckling. “How long are you gonna pretend to ‘study’ before you finally ask her out?”

“I’m not pretending,” Jake protested, though even he didn’t believe it.

“You’ve been pretending since you walked in,” Ni-ki quipped. “And now we’re here to enjoy the show.”

As his friends continued to tease him, Jake let out a defeated sigh. They weren’t wrong—he was hopelessly in love with her. But for now, all he could do was watch her from across the room, his heart pounding every time she looked his way.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The café had quieted down after the rush, leaving only a few customers scattered at tables, sipping their drinks or working on laptops. Jake remained at his table, idly tapping his pen against his notebook. He hadn’t been doing much studying since his friends left, but he wasn’t about to go home either—not when Y/n was still working behind the counter.

The bell above the door jingled, and an older male customer stepped in, glancing around before heading straight for the counter where Y/n stood. Jake watched as she greeted the man with her usual professionalism, her voice calm and polite as she took his order.

But something about the man’s demeanor put Jake on edge. He leaned forward, watching the exchange more closely.

“So, do you work here every day?” the man asked, leaning over the counter with a sly grin.

Y/n offered a polite smile, staying professional. “Only on some days. What can I get for you?”

“Maybe your number?” the man said, not-so-subtly ignoring the menu. “A girl like you probably has a long line of guys waiting, huh?”

Jake felt his stomach twist, a flash of annoyance flickering across his face. Y/n, however, remained calm.

“Just here to work,” she replied, her tone firm but still courteous. “Would you like to order something?”

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Come on, don’t be like that. How about after your shift? We could grab a drink.”

Jake clenched his jaw. He could tell Y/n was handling it professionally, but the guy wasn’t taking no for an answer. Standing up, Jake crossed the room before he even realized what he was doing.

Approaching the counter, he slipped into a role that he hoped would help.

“Hey,” he said, pretending to be irritated. “What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting to order forever.”

The older man turned to look at him, clearly not pleased by the interruption.

Jake shot him an impatient glare. “I mean, you’ve been standing here for ages. Some of us are thirsty, you know?”

The customer frowned, clearly annoyed. “I’m ordering, kid. Relax.”

“Well, if you could hurry it up,” Jake said, folding his arms and acting like an impatient customer. “Some of us have places to be.”

The man huffed, grumbling under his breath before finally turning back to the counter. “Just a black coffee.”

Y/n rang him up, her face as neutral as ever, though her eyes flicked briefly to Jake, a hint of amusement there.

The older man paid for his coffee, still muttering, before walking away to wait for his order. Once he was out of earshot, Y/n let out a small breath, glancing at Jake with a faint smile.

“Thanks for that,” she said, her voice light but genuine. “He wasn’t getting the hint.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, flustered now that the moment had passed. “Yeah, no problem. I just...didn’t want to see him keep bothering you.”

She smiled at him, then, in her usual nonchalant way, asked, “So, what do you want to order this time?”

He stared at her for a moment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. He hadn’t planned on ordering anything, but now that he was at the counter...

With a sigh of defeat, he glanced at the menu. “I’ll take... another iced coffee. Thanks.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she started preparing the drink. He watched her, feeling both proud of stepping in and a little awkward for having to order yet another drink just to cover his tracks.

As she handed him the cup, she gave him a knowing look. “You should really start studying instead of ordering all these drinks.”

He couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

She laughed softly before turning back to her work, leaving him to return to his table with his heart racing, though he tried to play it cool. At least, for now, he had an excuse to stay a little longer.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[agi-ppangx]

love song (bang chan x gn!reader)

angst with a fluffy ending, both chan and reader are producers/songwriters, chan is kinda an asshole for a while but he quickly apologises, not proofread; 1,3k words

author's note: a little fic requested by a lovely anon !! i kinda wrote it in one go and didnt have time to properly correct the mistakes so i apologise for typos and any other stuff >< please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“time for a break,” you announced with a smile as you entered your little homemade studio holding two bags. “i got us some food and coffee.”

chan looked up at you from his laptop and mirrored your smile, taking both bags from you with a soft thank you. you sat down on the couch with a loud huff and chan handed you your food. 

“you wanna listen to the song? i made a few touch ups to that part we were struggling with,” he asked, sipping on his americano and you nodded, mouth full of the pasta. 

as soon as chan played the song you closed your eyes, letting yourself be completely engulfed by the music. 

it was a rather upbeat melody, but when you were writing the lyrics a while ago you tried to make it really emotional and, what’s most important, true. some might think it’s cliché to constantly write songs about your lover, but it comes naturally to you. the emotions you pour into the lyrics, the memories and wishes, everything is about you and chan. and even as you sell your songs to various artists, you always know exactly who it’s about when they sing it. 

you snapped your eyes open around the middle of the song as one fragment of a few seconds did not sound as it should. 

“wait, let me listen to it again” you said with a frown and he wordlessly rewinded the song for a few seconds. “why does it sound so weird?” you mumbled to yourself as that one part was just not right. you took a sip of coffee from your cup, trying to understand what changed about the song. you two were talking about that part a few days before and…

“channie, did you change the melody?” you asked in disbelief. he turned around to look at you, but your irritated expression didn’t make any impression on him. 

“yeah, it sounds better now, right?” you huffed loudly, getting up from your place on the couch to walk your anger away. 

“i told you i want this part to sound specifically as it did before! why would you change it? we talked about it,” you let out, your voice getting louder with each word spoken. 

“relax, baby, it’s not a big deal,” he explained calmly, trying to reach for your hand, but you were quicker, taking it away and putting it in the pocket of his hoodie that you were wearing. 

“no, it’s the fact that it’s the first time we finally work together and you already don’t listen to my advice.” 

it was chan’s turn to huff, he was visibly getting annoyed by your words. “this wouldn’t be a problem if you wouldn’t make one of it.” 

“this wouldn’t be a problem if you wouldn’t ignore my opinion.”

“alright, yn, let’s just stop this. i’m getting tired of this conversation,” he said, turning around and putting his headphones on, pretending to work on some other track just so you wouldn’t bother him anymore.

you stood in the room for a while longer, staring at chan in pure shock. he may have pretended to be busy, but as you finally decided to leave the studio he noticed how you wiped your face and he sure heard the loud thud the door made as you slammed them. you went straight to your bedroom, wrapping yourself in the blanket and trying to stifle your sobs. 

hours passed as you finally sat up, grabbing your notebook to write some ideas for new songs. your eyes were still puffy as you scribbled down random words and rhymes, desperately trying to take off your mind from the argument, but no matter how hard you tried the situation came back to you like a boomerang. you weren’t sure if chan did it purposely or if he simply forgot about your conversation - you knew he was busy, so it might’ve slipped out of his mind. but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt you. 

both of you dreamed of working together for a long time - someone might think that you two could easily just write some songs for each other in your home studio. isn’t that enough? people say, but you always say that it’s different to play around on a saturday evening with a glass of wine and to write and produce tracks for other artists. it is a big deal to you - the fact that the song you both worked on will be featured on another artist’s album, heard by thousands, if not millions of people, and they all will hear about your love for chan and only you will know who it’s about.

a soft knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you put down the notebook, keeping a firm look on chan as he quietly closed the door behind him. he was already in his pyjamas, ready to sleep, and you fought the urge to send him to sleep on the couch.  

“you still mad?” he asked with hesitation dripping down his voice. you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to say something other than the obvious. “listen, i feel really bad.”

“as you should.”

he sighed, scratching the back of his head. “i know. but i don’t wanna go to sleep without talking.” he said desperately, taking a few steps onward and carefully sitting on the other side of the bed. 

you exhaled loudly. you also didn’t want to leave it like this. “it really hurt me, y’know?” you started, feeling as the tears started to well up in your eyes. “we literally talked about the song a few days ago and i told you how i want that particular fragment to sound like and you agreed. then why-” your voice broke a little as a few tears ran down your cheeks. chan was quick to wipe them off and this time you didn’t stray from his touch. “-why would you change it now? i just don’t understand.”

chan took a moment to think before he spoke again. “i have nothing to say in my defence,” he started quietly. “i was just bored yesterday when i couldn’t sleep and decided to change a few things about the song and i just forgot to leave that part be. i’m so sorry, baby, i know i shouldn’t have behaved like that earlier, i don’t know what had gotten into myself,” he confessed, his cheeks now cherry red as shame filled his body. he didn’t look at you, he couldn’t, because he knew he fucked up.

“let that be your first warning,” you said firmly after what felt like eternity to chan. “i’m not that experienced as you when it comes to producing songs, but i would really appreciate you actually listening to my ideas. just talk to me whenever you want to make changes like that, okay?” chan nodded quickly. 

“i will. i’m really sorry, my baby.”

“i know you are.”

“are we okay now?” he asked hesitantly. 

“yeah, we are.” you smiled softly as chan’s body visibly relaxed at your words. “but i’m still hurt though.” 

“will a kiss make it better?” he proposed, a bit bolder now as the atmosphere around you wasn’t so tense anymore. you didn’t respond, leaning over to place a peck on his lips with a smile. 

“maybe a little bit,” you giggled. chan captured your face in his hands, looking you deeply in the eyes. 

“by the way i changed that part,” he confessed. “it sounds exactly how you wanted it to.”

you grinned, whispering a soft thank you, and chan finally kissed you, making the world around you disappear. you didn’t know how long it was before you finally broke the kiss, panting heavily.

that night you held him in your arms, letting him rest his head on your chest so he could hear your heartbeat and to his surprise it was his favourite love song that you ever created.

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[quaintii]

Across the Street

Part 1

Summary: It's been a couple weeks since a new family moved in, across the street. You go pay them a visit with an offer.

Warnings: no smut yet... just some build-up. Miguel x f!reader (I got the pic from Twitter, the @ is @kimmy_arts0912!!) also sorry that its hella long, plot ykk (pls read a/n at end!)

Part 2 <-

Part 3 <-

On a Sunday afternoon, you decided to go out with your friends at the mall. You hear a knock on front your door and open it. "Hey! I came here early again, didn't I?" Your friend said "Hey Ash! You motion your hand inside your house.

She takes a seat on the couch, smiling and giggling. "Heyy, why are you like that?" You furrow your eyebrows together with a grin on your face, giving her some juice.

You jolt as she stands up quickly and grips your shoulders.

"Did you see that guy across the street?!" She fans herself with her hand, exaggerating and giggling. You raise your eyebrows, not knowing who she's talking about. "No..., why? You like him?" You nudge her shoulder with yours in return. "A man like that.. can fuck my brains out!" She exclaims.

You quickly slap her thigh in response, getting a groan from her. "Fuck you do that for?!?" "My parents are home! You mumble. In shock, she covered her mouth with her hand. A few seconds later, you hear a ring from the front door.

You open your door to your whole friend group, the 5 of you in total. You greet them all in and spend a couple minutes inside before heading to the car altogether, carpooling.

"Hurry up!" One of your friends yell at the other one. Your eyes avert to what Ashley was talking about earlier, you see a big U-haul truck with multiple men pulling out furniture.

None seemed to be the man your friend described until you see a man from the huge window pane talking and motioning his hands where to place the furniture. Seems like your friend wasn't exaggerating at all. He wore a black button up shirt, some buttons loosened on top. Adjourned with some dark grey work pants that fit between some-what tight and loose.

What really caught your eyes were his glasses, sitting perfectly on his nose bridge. As he looked around his surroundings, he caught your gaze and gave a small grin. You snap out of it and return back to reality and enter the backseat, engine starting and loud booming music playing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~

You sit down with your legs crossed over the other, waiting for the waiters to take the group's orders. You rest your chin on your palm, sighing. One of your friends seem to notice.

She touches your shoulder, "Something up?" She asks. You nod your head, resting it on her shoulder. "Yeah... my parents told me I have to start paying rent to stay at the house." You let out another breathy sigh. "I mean I don't even know how I'm going to manage when I'm focusing on paying back my student debt from last year and with my one job not being enough.." You muttered softly.

Your other friends eavesdrop and reassure that it'll be fine and to not pressure yourself into becoming a total workaholic. you let out a small laugh and the waiter finally heads towards your table.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~

The next morning you wake up with a bad hangover, only remembering your friends' went to a club and its a blur after that.

You get up and change your bed sheets and take a relaxing shower. As your in your bed with your laptop working on your AP classes, your mom barged in.

"Get your ass up and do something! I'll be making you pay rent by the end of the month!" She raised her tone at you, annoying your peace.

"Mom, I'm already busy with paying my student debt from last year with my on-going job right now!" You exclaim back. "I've applied to other places for a job, they keep rejecting me." Your mom gave you nothing but a scoff and a cold glare. "Are you positive you've looked everywhere for a job nearby?!" She stepped into your room further.

You nod your head, annoyed how she always had an attitude with you.

"Well it looks like you didn't look close enough, the new neighbor across the street is looking for a babysitter." She said while touching your posters, eyeing the window.

"How do you know?" You asked. "He posted an obvious sign outside his front yard 3 days ago." Your mom sighed. "Look.. just give that one a try or move somewhere else with your friends." She's finally out of your bubble.

You groan and place your head on your laptop as you closed it. You slip into your shoes and head downstairs and walk across the street. "Seriously, what a nagging bitch.." You mumble under your breath and ring the doorbell.

The door opens sooner than you expected, facing a tall figure towering over you. It's him.

"May I help you, Ms?" He raised his eyebrow, expecting a response from you.

Finally being infront of him hit you like a stone brick, your vocal chords thrown out the window. You clear your throat. "Good morning, I don't mean to be a bother to you but I heard you're wanting a babysitter..?"

"Oh yeah, that reminds me..are you available later in the afternoon? If not, tomorrow if you're not." He gave off a small smile. "For afternoon, yes but if you don't mind me asking what for?"

"Oh sorry," he places one of his hands on his hip, other on the back of his neck. "For an interview, just want to do a small background check, that okay with you?" He tilts his head to the slide, letting a subtle smile stretch across his lips.

You nod and shake his head, heading back home.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ~

You walk up to his door to knock and check your phone. 4:05 p.m. You avert your eyes at him as he opens the door, smiling and greeting you inside. Miguel remains standing while you take a seat. He looks at you, studying your face, your movements, and the way you sit down. Once you make yourself comfortable, he sighs, looking away.

"Can I take a look at that?" He asked and you slide the folder file his way. He nods a couple times as he flips through the papers and starts typing on his computer.

"Do you have any experience with taking care of babies?"

He asks quietly.

"Yeah, I always babysat when I was in highschool."

He nods, seeming satisfied with the answer you gave. Miguel was quiet for a few moments, his mind going over a few things. He eventually speaks, and when he does, his voice sounds almost like a whisper.

"Could I trust you with taking care of my daughter then? With her safety and everything?"

He was quiet again.

"She's... very precious to me. I don't want her to get hurt."

"Yes of course! I would gladly take great care of her for you sir." You responded politely.

"Very well then."

He remains silent, looking at you for a moment longer, thinking about what to say next. The man then nods and starts talking again.

"She's five, and her name is Gabriella. She's a little angel... and she's mine."

Miguel took a breath and sighed, rubbing his face.

"She'll be home in a couple hours; I'll be gone..she's at her mother's house right now. I was planning on telling her that she'll have a babysitter, so she'll be excited."

He starts walking but then stops again. He then looks at you again and nods, as if he was thinking of something.

"Oh, I just need to set some rules and expectations for you to stick by, if you don't mind."

Miguel waits for you to acknowledge his words.

Your face turns a soft red, "Sorry, I was just spacing out but yeah of course." You smile back.

Miguel chuckles when you say you space out, and nods to acknowledge your answer.

"That's completely fine."

"First rule; you're responsible for her safety while I'm gone. No strangers can come in and stay, no party, etc." He seems to be thinking of more rules to add, taking a moment.

"Second; be nice to her. She's young and is easily scared or sad. So be kind."

He nods as if he finished, but then goes silent again.

"Third; no boys allowed without my permission. It's a rule for everyone, honestly." You continuously agree to his terms.

Miguel nods, still looking at you. His eyes seem to take a quick glance down at your clothes, studying you once again. He seemed to stare at your body as his gaze moved across your clothes; he didn't care that he was staring at you.

"I think that's it. Any questions?" "Nope!"

"Very well." Miguel nods, as if he was satisfied with the answer you gave.

"Then you will begin your babysitting job tonight when Gabi is here..." He pulls his cell phone and looks at the time on the screen before looking back at you.

"...in 2-3 hours. She'll be excited to see you, so make sure to make her smile." Miguel smiles at you and nods once again.

Miguel's eyes go back to your body, his gaze slowly moving across your curves from top to bottom. He then looks away.

"You will also find two numbers on the fridge; mine and the number for our family doctor. They are for emergencies."

Miguel then crosses his arms.

"That's all I have to say. Gabriella will be here in two hours. She'll knock three times before entering, okay?"

"Got that," you noted mentally.

Miguel nods one more time. "Alright, I'll be gone then. Don't worry, Gabriella is very easy to take care of."

He smiles and starts walking to the front door again. Before leaving, he waits to see if you had anything to add.

"See you tomorrow then Ms." You shoot a smile at him and head to the door first, which unexpectedly you stumble over a Barbie doll car. You stop from tripping onto your knees as you feel calloused hands brush over your waist, slightly gripping onto your skin. His hands around your waist made you shiver, the small skin to skin contact emitting some heat to your core.

You regain your posture quickly, embarrassed of yourself. "I'm sorry.." You blurt out. "Its fine really, Gabi tends to leave a trail of her toys around the house", he laughs lightly. "Ah okay...see you tomorrow then Mr.." You wait for his response. "Mr. O'Hara is fine." He says before shutting the door.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: srry its pretty long, you guys can tell me down in the comments if you want a part 2 or if you'd like this to be a slow burn but somewhat fast? leave any tips!! ty :3

EDIT: PART 2

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[thewriterg]

hush puppy

A/n: oh wow headcannons so cute I wrote this while I was half asleep so… —kinktober day; 23—

warning(s); SMUT, power dynamic, degradation, praise, dry humping, pegging, pet names, and language

secret subs! who probably told you they were doms the first time you even brought up sex in fear that you would think how they actually wanted to be treated was gross and we’re afraid you wouldn’t like them if so

secret subs! who used to make themselves nauseous when previous flings would cry under them begging on their cock while degrading phrases were forced from his lips burning his tongue and ended not enjoying sex for a while

secret subs! who gets hard from you calling them a good boy even if they were doing something harmless like washing the dishes that has them rushing towards the bathroom to take care of the growing tint in their pants

secret subs! who act very poised and carry themselves with confidence that you can break down in seconds by a few words and light feathery touches to… sensitive areas

secret subs! who look up fem doms and are aching soon enough face flushed skin hot until they finally slam the laptop closed a vowel to never watch something like it again for obvious reasons… the obvious reasons being a stubborn boner pressing against their pants bottoms while they squeeze their legs together trying to take the pain off their aching cock

secret subs! who start testing the waters with little things like seeing how far they can get with making you angry before you tip over the edge and put them back in their place where they should stay

secret subs! who let out rushed moans not realizing what they said as you bounce on their cock your cunt swallowing them whole “ngh- oh fuck miss please”

secret subs! who let you fuck your frustrations out on them after a long day or a situation that didn’t go how you wanted it to “name augh- please, please, please, name” long whimpers and whines that are loud and clear while you thrust your hips into his abused hole hitting his prostate over and over with your strapped cock

secret subs! who act out just for your attention even if it’s the wrong attention or very right in their mind “please mam I’m ahh! I’m s-sorry I won’t do it a-a- oh fuck! I won’t do it again” he sobbed his arms tied behind his back bare now red and bruising ass revealed to you to use at you disposal “no, you wanted my attention? you got my attention baby” You hummed before bringing your hand down harshly the air whooshing behind it coming down with a harsh sting that brought tears to their eyes

Secret subs! who live for degrading insults as much as they do your praise “dirty fucking slut couldn’t wait five minutes before your getting off on my shoe” You chuckle staring down at him his clothed cock rubbing against the tip of your boot under your desk as you ended your online meeting

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[haoboutyou]

haircut | choi seungcheol

fluff | 646 words | no warnings

an: he got a haircut T-T

The sound of the door unlocking and closing causes you to peek out of the kitchen. Closing your laptop, your chair screeches back as you get up from the dining table, moving to greet Seungcheol at the doorway. Sounds from your padded feet echo across the house as you make your way towards your lover, muffled by the soft carpet flooring.

“Hi Cheollie!” He grins up at you. He hangs up his coat, sitting on the nearby bench to remove his shoes. You had placed the bench in the entryway earlier when he first got injured so he would have an easier time with his shoes. His heart swells every time he sits on it, forever thankful for your thoughtfulness.

“Hi baby.“ You found yourself standing in between his thighs. Your waist automatically encircled by his hands, drawing you in closer. One hand is on his shoulder as you steady yourself, while the other gets entangled in his hair. You briefly recall Seungcheol informing you he was heading to the salon earlier in the morning. Fingers softly run through Seungcheol's hair, ruffling. His hair is shorter now, you note, but still barely covering his eyes. The now ebony strands tumbled and resettled, all fluffed up by your ministrations.

“It's shorter now,” you pout.

Seungcheol laughs aloud at your jutted lips, placing a kiss on the hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, it was getting in the way,” he leans into your touch. Like a puppy seeking warmth and reassurance. It was an instinctive response, an unspoken invitation for more of that comforting contact. He pats on his good knee, gesturing for you to sit on his lap. “You liked my long hair?”

You nod, humming in agreement. His lap makes for a sturdy seat, now eye level to him. “It’s nice like this too, I guess,” you push back his bangs. Examining his face once more. “It makes you look dashing.”

His eyes, still vibrant, held a touch of mischief as if testing the waters to see if your adorable pout could be softened by any resistance. “So you’re saying I wasn’t dashing before this?”

It's the way you let out such an exaggerated gasp that has him grinning from ear to ear. Lightly slapping at his chest, you stand up from his lap, making your way back into the kitchen.

“I hope you go bald,” the threat of your words hides behind the sweet smile you shoot his way. He chuckles at your retreating figure, finally removing his shoes before trailing you into the home.

“Oh, so that’s your type now?” he calls out.

“Mhmm. Hyungwon looks really handsome with his hair shaved.”

Now it's Seungcheol’s turn to be flabbergasted. He takes the opportunity to rewrap his arms around you as you go about setting aside your work on the dining table.

“...You and Jeonghan– You guys hang out too much, I swear.” His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your hair. You can feel his pout against your head, enticing a giggle out of you. Facing him in his arms, you loop your arms around his neck once again. In the warmth of each other's embrace, you tiptoe to peck Seungcheol on the lips.

“You need to use chapstick more,” you murmur against his lips. He smiles into the kiss, pressing you even closer to him.

“You need to kiss me more.” He bites down on your lip. The edge of the table presses into your back, causing you to arch into his touch. He prods with his tongue, and–

-his stomach grumbles. Seungcheol groans in annoyance as you pull away, laughing at the impeccable timing of his stomach. You start flitting around the kitchen again, this time pulling out pots and pans instead.

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the fridge. “Help me make dinner? You can pick.”

He sighs, defeated. “Fine, dinner first.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

nothing more than a toy

kinktober, day twelve

a/n: this......THIS!!!! 😵‍💫

warnings: rafe cameron x reader, smut, established relationship, watching pornography, rafe using y/n's holes as a toy to masturbate with, penetrative sex, ball gag, degradation, dirty talk

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

The extravagant sounds buzzing from the pornography playing on the laptop was slightly muffled to your ears as most of your form laid obscured under the covers, only your backside poking out, angling into Rafe’s lap as his grip selfishly dug into your flesh, moving what little of you was visible and fucking you as if you were nothing more than an object. 

Moans dulling against the ball gag fastened in between your lips, you felt the drool that had gathered begin to drip off the sphere and onto the sheets as one of your hand carefully sneaked down your body to play with your swollen clit, though when you finally reached it, you barely managed to touch it at all as grievous grip swiftly engulfed your own, ripping your needy fingers far away. 

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?” he barked, rudely popping his girth out of your trembling hole, “is being nothing more than a toy really turning you on that much?” a harsh blow landed across your bottom causing your body to jump beneath the duvet, “you just had to try and touch your little clit, didn’t you?” he tilted your closer, nudging his leaking tip against your poor pearl, “knew I should have tied up your hands…” the growl washed over you as he crudely poked your entrance, soaking up some of your leaking juices, “don’t fucking do that again, you got it?” all of the air was abruptly knocked out of your lungs as he rammed back in, going deep enough for his heavy sack to nuzzle against you and the tip to poke your cervix severely enough for it to sting, “just be a good little fleshlight and lay here,” the rapid click of the volume key quickly found your ears as lewd moans soon drowned out your muffled ones completely. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[diamonddaze01]

[12:38 AM]

Pairing: bsk x f!reader | wc: 1.7k warnings: crying, reader is overworked! a/n: this was 100000% inspired by @tusswrites // lowkey i need seungkwan to yell at me when i overwork myself lmao

You’re on your third hour in the library, hunched over your laptop and surrounded by a mountain of research articles, notes, and half-finished slides. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, paired with the almost oppressive silence of the empty library, only serves to amplify the tension coiling inside you. Your gaze flickers to the clock on the laptop screen—12:38 AM. Tomorrow’s presentation looms over you like a storm cloud, the ticking clock counting down to when you’ll have to stand in front of your professor, exhausted and empty, and pray you can keep it together long enough to pass.

Beside you, Seungkwan shifts in his seat, his eyes darting between you and the neglected water bottle he placed by your laptop hours ago. He had insisted on accompanying you to the library after noticing you hadn’t stopped talking about this assignment all day—ever since you got it in the middle of class, you’d been laser-focused, muttering to yourself, planning out every detail. You could tell it worried him. He’d even made a quick run to grab snacks and water, placing them strategically in front of you, like little tokens of support. But in your mind, you don’t have time for snacks or breaks. There’s too much to get through, and the pressure is almost suffocating.

“Hey,” he murmurs, breaking the silence. “You haven’t touched any of the snacks I bought. At least have a few sips of water.”

You shake your head, not even glancing at him. “I’m fine. I need to focus.”

He frowns. “It’s been hours since you ate anything. And don’t think I didn’t notice you skipped lunch too.”

You sigh, fingers still flying over the keys. “Seungkwan, I don’t have time for this right now.”

He doesn’t back down, crossing his arms and leaning in closer. “You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate. Come on—just five minutes. I’ll time it for you.”

“Seungkwan,” you bite out, tension lacing your voice. “Please.”

He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender but doesn’t move, clearly unconvinced. Minutes pass, with him silently watching your every move, his concern palpable. You try to ignore him, hyper-focused on your screen, but his gaze feels heavy.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks up again. “Look, I get that this is important. But you can’t push yourself like this. You’ll be completely drained by morning, and then how are you supposed to do your best?”

“Oh my god, Seungkwan,” you snap, hands freezing over the keyboard as you shoot him a glare. “Can you just… stop? This is important. I don’t need you hovering over me like some kind of health monitor!”

He blinks, clearly taken aback. Hurt flashes in his eyes, and he swallows before nodding. “Oh. Okay.” He stands up, quietly gathering his things and slinging his bag over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “I’ll leave you alone, then. Good luck.”

WHe grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, the sharp echo of his footsteps leaving an empty void between you. The silence he leaves behind feels louder than anything he could have said. You try to turn back to your laptop, but the guilt, thick and heavy, wraps around your chest. You shouldn’t have snapped like that. He was just trying to help. Your fingers hover over the keys, but nothing feels right. You feel stuck—stuck in your frustration and your guilt, as if you can’t do anything but wallow in the mess you've made.

Minutes drag by. The longer you sit there, the more the guilt gnaws at you, until it becomes too much to ignore. Without thinking, you push your laptop away and bury your face in your hands, trying to hold it all together. You don’t even know why you feel so overwhelmed. It's just a presentation, just an assignment... but your heart races, your breath shortens, and the pressure of it all feels suffocating.

"I'm sorry," you whisper through your hands, but you don’t even know who you're apologizing to. Yourself? Seungkwan? The quiet library? "I’m sorry, please don’t hate me."

Before you can collect yourself enough to go find him, the sound of footsteps breaks the stillness. Your head snaps up, and there he is—Seungkwan, standing in the doorway, holding a can of Celsius in one hand and a small protein bar in the other. His eyes soften when he sees you, and without a word, he places the drink and snacks on the table beside you. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his touch gentle, reassuring.

You can’t hold it in anymore. The tears spill over, hot and fast, and you’re suddenly choking on your own sobs. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry," you whisper over and over, barely able to breathe through the flood of emotion. "Please don’t hate me."

He doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. The warmth of his embrace, the steady heartbeat against your cheek—it’s more than you deserve, and yet it’s exactly what you need. The first tear slips down your cheek, followed by another, and then you’re sobbing, clutching onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth.

“Shh,” he murmurs softly, rubbing your back in gentle circles. “I would never hate you, baby. It’s okay.”

His words feel like a balm, soothing the raw edges of your heart. You cry harder, the weight of the stress, the exhaustion, and the guilt all pouring out in choked sobs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I just—there’s so much to do, and I—” Your words dissolve into hiccups as you cling to him, tears soaking into his favorite sweater, the one he wears all the time, the one that smells like home.

He doesn’t let go, holding you as tightly as if you’re the one keeping him steady. His fingers trace gentle circles on your back, and he whispers, “I know you didn’t mean it. You’re just stressed, and I get it.” He glances around, noticing the curious looks from other students. When one person stares a little too long, he shoots them a sharp look, muttering, “What are you staring at?”

You manage a weak laugh through your tears, feeling a strange warmth in your chest despite everything. But then you notice the mascara streaks and the growing damp patch on his sweater, and you pull back with a fresh wave of panic. “Oh no. No, no, no—Seungkwan, this is your favorite sweater, and now it has my snot and mascara all over it!”

He lets out a soft chuckle, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Baby, it’s fine,” he says, brushing your hair back from your face. “It’s just a sweater.”

“But you love this sweater!” you sniffle, fighting back another round of tears. “I—this is your favorite, and now I’ve ruined it—”

“Hey, stop that,” he says, gently wiping the tear tracks from your face with his thumbs. “It’s okay. I can wash it, alright? Let it all out; I’m here.” His voice is so tender, so steady, and it only makes you cry harder.

He holds you tighter, rubbing your back in soothing circles and whispering little reassurances, letting you release all the tension and guilt into his shoulder, sweater be damned. “I’m here. Just let it out. You’re allowed to feel this way.”

You’re sniffling and hiccuping, clinging to him as you let yourself fall apart in his arms. With every gentle touch, he brings you back to a place where you can breathe again, where the overwhelming chaos of your mind finally begins to settle.

When you pull back, eyes red and puffy, he just smiles, reaching for your hand. “Do you wanna go home?” he murmurs.

You shake your head, sniffling. “I… I can’t. I have so much to do.”

“Alright.” He doesn’t hesitate. “Then we’re staying. Together.”

You look at him, blinking through blurry eyes. “Wait, you’re staying? Seungkwan, it’s past 1 AM. You don’t have to do that.”

He just raises an eyebrow, a hint of his usual sass creeping back into his voice. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my girlfriend to study alone in a library at 1 AM? If you’re not gonna let me nag at you, at least let me stay and keep you company.”

You can’t stop the small, grateful smile that tugs at your lips. He settles back into the chair beside you, pulling your laptop towards him and scanning your notes. “Alright, so what’s the first thing we need to work on?”

He’s right there beside you, the same soft hum of his voice providing background noise as he helps you with the presentation. Hours pass, and time feels less like an enemy with him there, guiding you through it with gentle corrections and quiet encouragement. The soft glow of the laptop screen reflects in his eyes as he leans over your shoulder, pointing out a flaw in the data and offering a suggestion with that familiar, sarcastic edge you know so well.

At some point, he shoves a bottle of water at you, eyebrows raised in that way that makes you roll your eyes, even though you know what’s coming. You don’t protest this time, just take it from him and drink, the coolness of it grounding you.

He watches you for a moment, satisfied with your compliance, before a small, quiet smile curls up at the corners of his lips. It’s not loud or teasing, just... there, like a secret between you two.

You don’t say anything, and neither does he.

But the unspoken understanding between you feels clearer than it ever has. And for the first time in hours, you find yourself thinking, maybe... it’ll be okay.

Seungkwan just keeps working, his fingers tapping lightly against the table as he goes over your notes. And for the rest of the night, there’s a quiet comfort in the way he’s simply there, letting you work, giving you space, but still keeping you grounded.

You don’t need to say anything. His presence is enough.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Modern AU where Eddie is a tech repair person at an apple store in Chicago while he tries to make it big with his band and Steve is a spoiled rich kid who is trying to cover up that he's been using his macbook to film for his OnlyFans or something similar and he needs that shit wiped.

Eddie is as professional as he can be, but can't help but be amused at Steve being worried that he's gonna see everything.

S: seriously, just wipe everything. nothing has to be saved. don't even look through each file. just start over. E: okay sure. but you know you could just buy a new laptop. S: my dad checks my credit card statements. E: okay, so tell him you bought it for a friend or something. S: just. can you wipe it? E: yeah i can.

Eddie doesn't let him know that he already has seen everything because of course he subscribes to S.H. and often leaves him bigger tips than he can afford. He doesn't even know why Steve does it since he's apparently rich, or his dad is.

It only takes a few hours to wipe it, and Eddie's grateful he managed to help Steve instead of his coworker who is a certified Creep ™️ who absolutely would have made sure to watch as many of the videos as he could first.

He calls Steve and leaves a message for him that it's done, but doesn't hear back and Steve doesn't come by. He does the same thing again the next day, and the day after that, starting to grow concerned.

He goes so far as to check Steve's OF page, just to see if there's an update, but sees it's been shut down, like it never existed.

He finally caves, does the most unprofessional thing he's ever done, and texts Steve's number from his own phone.

This is Eddie from the apple store. Your laptop's ready. Just want you to know after 30 days we usually get rid of unclaimed items.

There's no response.

But two days later, Steve comes into the store wearing sunglasses and a hat, clearly trying to hide.

When he takes off the sunglasses to sign everything, Eddie sees a healing black eye and swollen nose.

He isn't stupid.

And he suddenly feels extremely protective over him.

E: did your dad find out? S: find out what? E: about your online job? S: how do you know? E: I wasn't gonna say anything, and I swear everything got wiped without anyone including myself seeing, but I do subscribe to you and I recognized you when you came in. S, already having a panic attack: shit no. this is bad. okay you can't say anything about this to anyone. please. E: I wouldn't, I won't. but your dad found out didn't he? he did this to you? S: *nods* E: you safe now? S: *shrugs* E: need a place to stay? S: i've been saving. that's why i did this in the first place. so i can pay rent somewhere. E: I have a second bedroom at my place that just opened up. up to you.

And of course Steve takes it because he's desperate, and doesn't have real world experience with a lot of strangers, but has a good feeling about this.

Eddie finds that Steve is a very typical rich kid; ignorant to a lot of the world's struggles, but not an asshole despite his bitchy attitude sometimes coming out, thinks money can fix everything until Eddie shows him that apologies and a cuddle on the couch can be better.

Steve is so touch starved, he doesn't even realize the way he always folds into Eddie's side when they're just relaxing and watching a movie, or how he always lets his hand brush against his side or hand when Eddie gets home from work. Eddie helps him look for a job, and they find that he loves working at a daycare even though the money isn't that great.

They fall in love so easily, neither of them actually realize it happens until Steve comes home after a very long day before the Christmas holidays, covered in paint stains from crafts with the kids, and Eddie just welcomes him home with a kiss.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach. 

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right. 

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong. 

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective. 

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago. 

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

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