#he’s like guys love you collective work would love to be a stand in for anyone here

[mack-writersblock]

Hello! I want Emily X reader.Rossi's sister arrives to help them with a case (she works at the CIA) and Emily begins to appreciate it both flirting and teasing each other and end up succumbing. ..

-Anges

More Than We Bargained For || E. Prentiss

Summary: The BAU get a case that reminds David of an old case of his sister. He called fem!reader in to help with the case, yet she leaves with more than just another solve case under her belt.

cw: one use of Y/N for introduction, reader goes by mother's maiden name, pet names, drinking, first kiss, barely edited.

Word count: 2286

First ask and first Emily fic here on Tumblr, hope you like it!

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It wasn’t every day you got a call from your older brother. Sure, sure you two talked, but it was once a month at most. So when your phone rang, the last thing you would have guessed it was, was David Rossi asking you to consult on a case.

“As I live and breathe,” you answered the phone, “David Rossi calling his dear younger sister two days in a row,” you teased and excused yourself from your conversation with one of your coworkers.

“I’d love to say it’s because I missed you but I need your help,” David admitted and you gently shook your head.

“What can I help you with?” You asked, sitting down at your desk.

“We have a case, it reminds me of an old case of yours,” David admitted and you blew air out of your nose.

“I’ll be there in an hour,” you told him, standing up and collecting your things.

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You were in the elevator on the way up to David’s floor, you had reviewed the case information David had sent over in the car ride. The doors slid open and you saw David waiting on the other side of them, Aaron Hotchner standing with him.

“Dave,” you smiled, opting to gently push his shoulder instead of hugging him. You turned to look at Aaron. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. Dave talks about you,” you shook his hand before following the two into the bullpen and to the round table. Your eyes traveled the team before you, lingering on a brunette longer than they should have.

“This is my sister, Y/N Moretti,” David introduced you to the team, they went around in introductions before jumping into the case.

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“Prentiss, I’ve heard about you,” you looked over the brunette, you two being stuck with stake-out duty. “Faking your death is a pretty ballsy move,” you told her, watching her take a drink of her coffee.

“Is that all Rossi told you?” Emily looked over at you.

“You think Dave calls me enough for me to ask about anything but if he’s ok?” You joked, tilting your head back with your soft laugh, missing the tender look Emily gave you. “I get all my information about you through the grapevine of people, it makes it back to us. Especially since Interpol,” you told her, looking back at the house.

“What do you know about me, Moretti?” The teasing lit in her voice making you smile.

“Well, Prentiss, not much. What can you tell me?” You teased back, making her smile. And that’s how you two spent the remainder of the time, talking about yourselves and watching the house.

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“There was no movement in or out of the house,” Emily told everyone and you sat down, looking over the files again. Your team joined you once you had confirmed that you would be working on it and they had brought over the old files with them.

“If this is the same guy, there’s no way he would wait this long for another victim,” you mused, focusing on the case files in front of you.

“Why’s that?” Derek asked you and you looked up at him. 

“He might be calculated, but he is compulsive. He was caught the first time because he couldn’t help but attack Sarah Winters when he saw her. He knew she was a cop and that her partner was a shout away, but she was his type. If this is him, there has to be another reason for him not striking again,” you told them.

“We find the reason we find him,” David said and you agreed. “What do you know about Jovan Orlov?” David and the team all sat as you started talking.

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“Tell me, Prentiss, you got a boyfriend?” You paused a moment. “A girlfriend?” You heard her laugh, not bothering to turn to her.

“Why do you wanna know, Moretti?” She was looking at you but you were more focused on the papers in your hands.

“Just curious, darling,” you responded.

“No, I don’t,” she told you and you nodded. “Do you?”

“Not anymore,” you said in a sing-song-like manner.

“What happened?” You could feel her stare boring into the side of your head.

“Guys tend to think that just because I also like women, I’m automatically open to a threesome with some other women they are attracted to,” you shrugged.

“Are you?” It was a joke and you could hear it.

“Are you offering?” You finally looked at her but cringed back when you saw David standing behind her.

“Are you two working or flirting?” He had a smile on his face and you narrowed her eyes at him.

“Working and flirting,” you told him and he shook his head.

“I knew bringing you here would have odd consequences, just didn’t think you flirting with Prentiss would be one of them.”

“You brought me here and then made me do a stake-out with the one person here who would be my type, try again, David,” you watched him laugh.

“Just more working and less flirting,” he pointed at you.

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You and Emily ran after Jovan down an alleyway, you were slightly behind her as you started to run a little after she did. You rounded the corner right after her to see her standing over the unsub with her gun pointed down at him.

“Jovan Orlov, you’re under arrest for the murder of several women,” you walked over to pull him up and put the handcuffs on him. Your brother and the rest of his team rounded the corner and you handed Orlov off. You turned back to Emily as she walked up to you. “Good job, darling,” you told her, watching her smile and slightly turn away. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” You teased her.

“You wish,” she said back.

“You’re right, I do wish,” you responded, walking off as your team made it to the crime scene. Emily watched as you talked with your team, how you stood with your shoulders back and hands on your hips. You stood with confidence and it was obvious you were the person your team looked to for guidance. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at Emily as you made eye contact before looking back at your team.

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“So, how’d you like it?” David questioned and you looked at him.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Did you like working here?” He clarified.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just asking,” he told you but you shook your head.

“Sure you are because this has nothing to do with the fact you’ve asked me to join the BAU since the beginning,” you raised an eyebrow.

“Well, at least now I have a better argument instead of just me working here.”

“And what’s that?” 

“Emily Prentiss,” he said her name and you looked him in the eyes with an eyebrow raised.

“Hm, she is a compelling argument,” you smiled.

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You sat at the slightly sticky table of the bar watching Emily dance and have fun. You and your team joined the BAU for celebratory drinks after the case, mostly at the insistence of David. You had been slowly nursing the same drink the whole time, watching as everyone else slammed drink after drink. You made eye contact with Emily as she stopped at the bar to get another drink, you smiled at her before you looked away and down at your drink. You downed the last little bit of it before looking up to the roof.

“Here,” Emily placed a cup of water in front of you, making look at her.

“Thanks,” you took a sip of it. “You’re surprisingly coherent for someone who has been drinking all night,” you mused, watching her take a drink from her cup.

“I have a high tolerance,” she shrugged and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Had me fooled, you looked quite intoxicated,” you told her, watching her as she scooted closer and eventually put her hand on your thigh. “Darling, as much as I would love to see where this is going, try again when you’re sober,” you grabbed her hand and led it in yours.

“I am sober, babe,” she tried again but the hold on her hand stopped her from placing it on your thigh.

“You may not be drunk, but you have been drinking and that’s enough of a reason for me to think you aren’t thinking straight,” you placed your interlaced hands on the table as she just looked at you. “Do you want me to take you home?” You watched her nod. “Ok, wait here, I’ll go pay for both of our tabs then come back, ok, Tesoro?” 

“Ok,” she downed the rest of her drink and on your way to the bar, you stopped by your brother.

“Hey, I’m taking Emily home per her request,” you told him.

“Ok,” he nodded and you smiled at him before continuing to the bar.

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“You have a nice house,” Emily was standing in your walkway, she insisted you take her to your place and you agreed.

“Thanks, Tesoro, right through here,” you guided her to the kitchen, dimming the lights as you walked in. You grabbed one of the glasses from your cabinet and filled it with water, you handed it over to her. You could tell she was sobering up by the way she wasn’t slightly swaying. “When you asked to come over, did you plan on staying here or did you just not want to go home at that moment?”

“Can I stay?” She sounded hopeful and you nodded.

“I’ll let you wear some of my clothes to bed then,” you took the glass back and placed it in the dishwasher, you could feel her eyes on you. “Are you staring at me, Prentiss?” When you didn’t get an answer, you turned to her and found her leaning against the counter looking ready to pass out. You wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom, sitting her on the bed to grab some extra pajamas you had. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” you directed her to the right door with a point, watching as she walked there.

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You could hear Emily get up from the kitchen, the soft padder of her feet making you look up. You smiled at her as you continued to make breakfast, she sat down at the island of your kitchen with a groan.

“Does your house have to be so bright?” She groaned in pain, shielding her eyes from the sun and the lights you had on.

“Sorry, darling, here,” you reached over to dim the lights with a small laugh before returning to making dinner.

“You have dimmers on all your lights?” 

“Yeah, the house came with it,” you told her, placing a plate in front of her. “You watched her take it and the medicine you handed her moments later. “I called Dave, and he said that it was ok for you to be late,” you sat down on the chair next to her.

“What about you?” She looked over at you midbite.

“Oh, I don’t have to be in until 1 pm unless we are actively working on something,” you explained and she nodded.

“I’m jealous,” she went back to eating and you followed her.

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“Babe,” Emily called from your bedroom as she got ready, you told her you’d take her to work since she didn’t have her car at your house.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You stopped at the door, not wanting to open it just in case.

“Can you help me?” She asked and you opened the door to find her struggling with the buttons of the shirt.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Sorry I forgot to tell you that the buttons are slightly too big for the holes on that shirt, it always shrinks in the wash,” you walked over and pushed her hands out of the way. You did the buttons for her, ignoring how her gentle breaths blew across your face. 

“How expensive is the outfit I’m wearing right now?”

“Not very, unlike my brother I did not write books and become rich, sure I have some money but I also don’t spend it on things like dress shirts,” you told her, removing your hands from the shirt you looked her in the eyes. You watched her eyes dart down to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Am I sober enough now?” Emily asked and you sighed, looking over at the wall clock.

“After all my hard work, you’re going to have me unbutton this shirt again?” You joked, leaning closer to her. You brushed your lips against Emily’s before the two of you practically smooshed yourselves against each other. 

“I don’t think we’re going to make it in today,” Emily told you and you laughed.

“Yeah, neither do I,” you reached up to her shirt, and ripped it open. Emily gasped at the action and you smiled extra wide. “I didn’t like the shirt that much anyway,” you shrugged, pulling her closer to you.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Like this story? Here's my masterlist

[kieran-culkins]

Mike Faist talks about auditioning for ‘Past Lives’, directed by Celine Song, who is married to ‘Challengers’ screenwriter Justin Kuritzkes

[voyter]

NNN (NO NUT NOVEMBER) ! ... thanksgiving special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

jungkook and his friends are all in on the internet's most ridiculous trend: no nut november. but you’re determined to make your boyfriend lose — and you know just how to do it.

word count. 8.9k warnings. stupid fucking nnn challenge. JUNGKOOK IS SOOO DRAMATIC IN THIS OML. competitive koo. oc being petty as fuck. oc a brat hehe. jungkook cannot lie to save his life. he fighting demons in his head. needy koo. slight crack. smut. oral (fem!receiving). MUNCH JK. dry humping. blindfolding (very brief lasts like five seconds). koo loves her boobies. unprotected sex. dom!jk (i dont usually like writing him like this but i didnt hate it).

ana's notes. happy (very late) thanksgiving !!! BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT. this was supposed to be posted after thanksgiving but i got so busy and then the writers block crept up on me :\ .. ANYWAYS i am so grateful for you guys and the support you have shown for my writing, it means a lot since this is a hobby that i love. heres a little silly smutty fic for the holidays !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all <3

There was this utterly ridiculous trend that resurfaced on the internet like clockwork every year – No Nut November.

The viral phenomenon was a joke. Honestly, who in their right mind would actually take part in such a thing?  

Well... Jungkook and his friends would. 

Never ones to back down from a challenge, they had turned the trend into a full-blown competition: the last man standing would walk away with a cash prize collected from everyone who failed. And Jungkook? He wasn’t about to lose. Not to his friends. Not to anyone.  

It wasn’t like he needed the money. Jungkook was doing just fine in that department, thank you very much. But the satisfaction of watching his friends begrudgingly hand over their hard earned cash, faces red with defeat? Fucking priceless. Count him in.

Unbeknownst to you, the bet was in full effect. Therefore, in preparation for what promised to be a painfully unfulfilling month, Jungkook made the most of Halloween night. His desire was overwhelming as he pulled you into his arms again and again. By the time you were both utterly spent, he’d taken you three times — round after relentless round, ensuring he had no regrets before the clock struck midnight.

It was all part of his plan: to have you as many times as he possibly could before November hit and he couldn’t have you at all. He was dead serious about this challenge. Winning was secondary — what mattered most was that he didn’t lose.  

By the first week of November — just five days in — Jungkook had been doing surprisingly well. His restraint was impressive, and he’d managed to keep his touches brief and calculated. The physical contact between you two had been limited to sweet, innocent moments: the kisses you shared when he left and came home from work, the soft pecks exchanged before falling asleep, or the comforting warmth of cuddling. None of it lingered too long, and Jungkook was acutely aware of how easily even the smallest touch could spiral into something much harder to resist.  

But Jungkook’s plan didn’t seem to work so well after all. As the week drew closer to its end, you began to get eager.  

Your arms would wrap around his waist from behind, your chest pressing against his back as you left featherlight kisses against the nape of his neck. Each one sent a shiver down his spine, your breath warm and teasing against his skin. Your fingers trailed along his arms and shoulders a little longer than usual, like they couldn’t bear to part from him. When you kissed him, your lips lingered just a second too long, brushing against his with a softness that made his heart pound and his resolve crumble.  

And Jungkook — poor, stubborn Jungkook — felt the strain of holding himself back with every passing moment.  

The tension in his body was unmistakable. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides, as if anchoring himself in place was the only way to resist you. But it was getting harder. Your every move — a tilt of your head, a brush of your fingers, the soft hum of your laughter — was a calculated test of his willpower.

There were times where his thumb hovered over the group chat. His mind screamed at him to type out the words, to admit defeat, to let it all go so he could have you the way he so desperately craved.  

But he didn’t.  

He kept his composure, though it was a battle he felt he was losing by the second. Temptation clung to him like a warm, enticing embrace, your every move a test of his self control. You were irresistible, and he knew it. Hell, even the fucking dickwad of a neighbor — the one who always found a reason to greet you while mugging Jungkook — knew it. But as much as he wanted to give in, Jungkook had to tread carefully. Ignoring you completely would be suspicious, and pulling away would be totally out of character. You’d see right through him.  

So he found a fine line to walk, a delicate balance: giving you just enough to keep you satisfied while keeping his own burning desires tightly in check. A heated makeout session here, his hand squeezing your ass there — little gestures that made everything feel normal. Just enough to keep you from noticing anything was off, but never enough to let things spiral out of control.  

The thought of explaining the ridiculous bet to you was out of the question — he wasn’t about to tell you he’d willingly signed up to not get his cock wet for a whole month. So instead, he silently resolved to endure.  

It wasn’t easy. Hell, it was torture. But the thought of losing to his friends? That was even worse. Their smug faces, the relentless teasing — it was unthinkable. Jungkook would rather give himself the worst case of blue balls imaginable than admit defeat.  

But just as the next week was about to begin, Jungkook’s willpower met its match.

At night, Jungkook stuck to his usual routine. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and climbed into bed. He scrolled aimlessly through his TikTok for you page, waiting for you to finish up in the bathroom and join him. It was the same comforting ritual as always.  

Usually, when you slipped into bed, he’d put his phone down immediately. Without a word, he’d shift closer, press his chest to your back, tangle your legs together, and throw a protective arm over your waist. It was an unspoken rhythm you both loved, the closeness of his warmth pulling you both into peaceful sleep.  

But tonight, something felt different.  

It had been a long week — too long. You hadn’t had him, hadn’t felt his touch, hadn’t been able to drown in the comfort of him. And tonight, the ache of missing him was unbearable. You needed him, desperately.  

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the soft light from the lamp illuminated him sprawled across the bed. His focus was on his phone, completely oblivious to you — but your attention was elsewhere.  

The thin material of his sweatpants did nothing to hide the outline of his cock, pressing firmly against the fabric as he lay there in complete ease. It was almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he looked.  

And just like that, the last of your restraint snapped.  

You didn’t even try to play coy. Not tonight. Not when every fiber of your being screamed for him, for his touch, for his warmth.  

You crawled onto the bed with purpose, straddling his hips in one smooth motion. Jungkook tensed beneath you, his phone slipping from his hand onto the mattress. His dark eyes met yours, wide with surprise, but the second your lips captured his, you felt him relax into the kiss.

It didn’t take long for your lips to wander. From his mouth to his jaw, each kiss slower and deeper than the last. That’s when he knew.  

This wasn’t going to end with a few kisses.  

“It’s getting late,” he murmured, his voice breathy, like he was trying to convince himself more than you.  

“Mhm,” you hummed, your lips trailing down his neck, suckling gently at the spot you knew made him shudder.  

“We should go to sleep,” he tried again, though his words sounded more like a plea than an order.  

“Don’t wanna,” you whispered against his skin, your hand sliding down between your bodies, cupping the hardening length beneath his sweatpants.  

The guttural moan that tore from his lips was instant, raw, and uncontrollable. His reaction was visceral, his hands flying to your hips to still you, but it was too late. That single touch had ignited something primal in him.  

With a sudden movement, he flipped you onto your back, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them firmly above your head.

“Why do you never listen to me?” he said through clenched teeth. His frustration of trying to compose his restraint thinning. Why won’t you let him win? His face was so close to yours that the tip of his nose brushed against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips.  

“Love pissing you off,” you shot back, your grin wicked as your eyes gleamed with mischief. You tilted your head slightly, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. “Makes me wet.”  

“Brat,” he spat. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, his jaw clenching as if holding himself back took everything he had.

To you, it was all in good fun — a playful game, harmless teasing. But to Jungkook? It was sweet, unrelenting torment. Every kiss you pressed to his skin, every soft laugh that spilled from your lips, and every calculated touch you offered worked to chip away at his resolve, unraveling him one agonizing piece at a time.  

He wanted to be strong, to resist, to uphold his own ridiculous self imposed boundaries. But how could he? How could he lay down beside you and simply go to sleep when your every movement, every sound, every look begged him to surrender? His body betrayed him first, drawn to you like a magnet, unable to keep his distance. The tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch of his breath every time you touched him — it all screamed of a man teetering on the edge of self control.  

Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze flickering over you, taking in the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts innocent and dangerous. He hated how much you affected him, but at the same time, he craved it. Every fiber of his being ached for you — your warmth, your softness, the way you felt against him. He knew he was doomed the second you whispered his name, voice laced with need.  

Giving in wasn’t just inevitable; it was everything he wanted. And as much as he’d tried to fight it, there was no denying you. Not now, not ever.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice raw, laced with a pain so desperate it borders on pitiful. His head drops, forehead pressing against your sternum, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. It’s as if he’s trying to ground himself, clinging to the fragile threads of control slipping through his fingers.

For a moment, he stays there, his breath warm against your skin, his body taut with tension. Then, slowly, he lifts his head, meeting your gaze with eyes darkened by lust and want, swirling with a need so intense it makes your stomach all jittery. His cheeks are flushed, the faintest rosy tint blooming across his face and staining the tips of his ears. He looks utterly undone, vulnerable in a way that steals the air from your lungs.  

Before he could think twice, his lips crashed against yours in a feverish kiss, devouring you like you were his favorite candy — sweet, irresistible, and utterly addictive. He poured everything into that kiss, every ounce of frustration and need, as if losing himself in you was the only thing that mattered.  

His lips began to trail south, brushing along the curve of your jaw before dipping down to the sensitive hollow of your neck. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat on your skin, and your breath hitched, a soft sound that sent a rush of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt — no, his shirt. You always stole his shirts for bed, and as much as he teased you about it, he loved seeing you in them.  

He pulled the fabric up, lifting it just beneath your chin and exposing your bare chest. Your breasts, freed from the confines of the shirt, bounced softly back into place, and Jungkook’s breath caught. His dark eyes locked onto the sight, a low groan rumbling in his chest as his hands instinctively cupped them, squeezing gently, pushing them together as if appreciating every inch of you.  

Unable to stop himself, he buried his face in the softness, his nose stuffed in between your tits, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.  

“Kook!” you giggled, your voice light and teasing, pulling him back just slightly from the haze of his desire. Your hands reached down, cupping his face and tilting it upward until his eyes met yours.

“Prettiest titties ever,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to one breast, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your lips curved into a warm smile, and your thumb traced softly over the scar on the apple of his cheek. The tender moment was fleeting, though, as Jungkook’s mouth found its way to your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, drawing a sharp wave of pleasure through your body. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying — and failing — to stifle the moan that bubbled in your throat.  

Your hands moved instinctively, brushing back the dark strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Your touch was soft, almost reverent, as you gazed down at him. The sight of Jungkook — cheeks flushed, lashes kissing his cheeks as he lost himself in you, his lips tugging gently at your sensitive flesh — made your heart race and your body ache with want.  

He let out a low hum against your skin, the vibration sending a delicious shiver cascading down your spine. His tongue swirled around your nipple with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion igniting sparks of pleasure that left you breathless. His focus was unrelenting, his attention on you so singular it made your toes curl. The warmth of his saliva mixed with the heat of your skin, creating a sensation that was utterly intoxicating.  

You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tugging gently at his raven hair, earning a soft groan from him in response. Jungkook didn’t stop, his lips worshiping you like you were the only thing that mattered.  

But as his mouth continued its ministrations, Jungkook couldn’t ignore the ache building in him. His cock throbbed, painfully hard and straining against his sweats, begging for relief. The urge to push everything aside and lose himself in you was overwhelming.  

Maybe he could lose. Maybe he could just not tell them.

No. That wasn’t fair, and Jungkook hated lying — especially to his best friends.

But fuck, you weren’t making this easy for him.  

With your pretty, soft boobs. Your sweet, irresistible lips. The way you tasted, the way you sounded.

He released your nipple with an audible pop, leaving your skin glistening and flushed from his attention. His lips lingered, warm and damp, as if tethered by an invisible string, reluctant to part. Then, slowly, he began his descent, tracing a line of soft, deliberate kisses down your stomach. Each press of his lips was unhurried, almost worshipful, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as anticipation tightened in your core.  

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his movements paused. His lips hovered just above the fabric, warm breath teasing your skin. He glanced up at you, eyes hooded and dark with want, as if searching your face for permission to continue. The moment felt suspended, heavy with tension, before he shifted his attention lower, redirecting his kisses to the delicate, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.  

His pace was maddening, each kiss a whisper against your skin, igniting every nerve and sending shivers rippling through you. His lips barely grazed you, his touch so featherlight it felt almost cruel, building the pressure inside you until it was nearly unbearable.  

Then he saw it. The damp patch on your panties. His movements stilled for a moment, the sight pulling a soft moan from his lips, thick with need.  

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, as if meant more for himself than for you. His voice was strained, low and raw, betraying the war raging inside him.  

You were blissfully unaware of the full weight of his internal struggle, the impossible battle between his ironclad resolve and the magnetic pull of you beneath him. But for Jungkook, this wasn’t just lust; it was a consuming craving, threatening to shatter the very challenge he'd sworn to uphold.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, his touch firm yet tantalizingly gentle as he began to slide them down your thighs. The soft fabric dragged against your skin with agonizing slowness, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. When the panties finally slipped off and landed somewhere forgotten on the floor, his gaze dropped to the apex of your thighs, and a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest.

Your pussy glistened in the dim light, your slick coating your folds, the evidence of your desire laid bare before him. Jungkook's tongue darted out to wet his lips as impatience flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he leaned in, starting with slow, deliberate licks, savoring the taste of you like a man starving.

Your breath hitched, a shudder racing through you as you glanced down at him. His dark eyes locked with yours for a brief, smoldering moment before he closed his lips around your swollen clit, sucking gently yet firmly.

A moan tore from your throat as your head tipped back, your fingers instinctively finding one of your breasts. You cupped the soft mound, your palm pressing into the supple flesh. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, sinful noises of his tongue working you over.

Jungkook's hand shot up, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist as he yanked it away from your breast. He possessively replaced your hand with his own. His large, tattooed hand cupped your tit, kneading the soft flesh with a firm yet reverent touch.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his lips glistening with your slick, and his heated gaze met yours. Without a word, his free hand slid down, his middle and ring fingers gliding through your folds with expert precision. He paused for a moment, his fingers coated in your arousal, before pressing them slowly inside you.

Your breath hitched at the delicious stretch, your sopping wet heat greedily sucking him in with ease. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he watched your body respond to his touch.

“So fucking wet," he whispered, voice thick with lust. His fingers curled slightly, stroking your walls with an unrelenting precision that had your thighs trembling.

Jungkook leaned back down, his lips latching onto your clit with a hunger that made your thighs quiver. He sucked and flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud, the wet, rhythmic sounds driving you wild. His fingers continued to thrust in and out of you, the steady, deliberate pace sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body as he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made you see stars.  

His other hand stayed on your breast, groping and kneading with a firm possessiveness that left you aching for more. His thumb brushed over your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.  

He was everywhere — on you, in you, surrounding you. The intensity of his touch, his mouth, and his presence consumed you entirely, leaving you trembling under him as he worked your body like he was born to do it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling heat low in your belly threatening to snap as he devoured you like a man obsessed.

“Baby,” you whimper, your voice trembling, raw with need as your fingers twist into the sheets beneath you. “G- gonna cum.”  

Jungkook doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down or falter. If anything, your words fuel him, igniting something feral inside him. He needs this — needs to feel you fall apart on his tongue, to taste every shiver and moan you can give him before he has to deny you for the rest of this painfully long month.  

A low hum vibrates against your clit, and the sensation sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you, your body arching instinctively toward him. His tongue moves faster now, precise and unrelenting, flicking and circling as if the very act is his lifeline.  

His fingers thrust into you, curling just right, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your vision blur. The rhythm is perfect, practiced, like he’s mapping your body by memory, knowing exactly how to coax you to the edge.  

Another hum escapes his throat, deeper this time, resonating against you with an intensity that feels almost like a plea — an unspoken command for you to let go, to surrender completely to the pressure building inside you.  

And with each stroke of his tongue and every curl of his fingers, he pushes you closer, until you’re teetering on the brink, your body burning with the promise of release.

His hand on your breast squeezes more firmly, his thumb flicking and pinching your nipple with just the right pressure, as if he knows exactly how to push you over the edge. Your hand shoots up to grab his wrist, your nails digging into his skin, while your other hand fists the sheets desperately.  

Your head tips back, lips parting in a silent, breathless moan as the tension inside you finally snaps. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, trembling as your release crashes over you in wave after blissful wave.  

Your body shakes beneath him, overcome by the force of your orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t stop. His mouth continues its sinful work on your clit, sucking and licking with unrelenting precision, while his fingers maintain their steady thrusts.

Despite the painful, throbbing ache of his cock, Jungkook finds a twisted kind of satisfaction in giving you pleasure. The way your body arches, the sounds you make, the way your nails dig into the sheets — it’s intoxicating. It fuels him, spurring him on as though your ecstasy alone is enough to soothe his own torment.  

He doesn’t want to stop. Not when you’re trembling beneath him, your body so responsive to his every touch. But there’s a limit to how much you can take, and he knows it. As much as he loves pushing you to the edge, watching as you surrender completely to him, overstimulation begins to creep in, your soft whimpers turning into desperate little gasps.  

Still, there’s a reluctance in him, a battle between the unyielding need to give you more and the understanding that your body can only handle so much. Even as you writhe beneath him, pleading for reprieve, there’s a part of him that aches to keep going, to hold onto this connection for just a moment longer.  

But he’s Jungkook, and if there’s one thing he values more than his own desires, it’s you. The sight of you trembling, your chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath, tugs at something deeper within him. He takes a deep breath, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, and finally, he pulls back.  

His lips and chin are glistening with your slick, a sinful testament to his devotion. He doesn’t bother wiping it away; instead, he leans over you, his eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction as they roam your flushed face. 

“Munch,” you giggle, your voice soft and teasing as your fingers brush his hair back from his forehead.  

Jungkook chuckles, the sound deep and warm, scrunching his nose in playful protest. His pretty bunny-like teeth peek out in a smile so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat.  

Unable to resist, you lean in, pressing your lips against his. Your tongue brushes against his, exploring him as the taste of you still lingers on his lips. The kiss grows deeper, more heated, and you feel his hard-on pressing insistently against your thigh.  

Without a second thought, your hand slides down, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. He groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating between you.  

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, breaking the kiss as he pulls away, the warmth of his lip still lingering on yours. He stands, his movements abrupt, leaving you breathless on the bed. His lips, swollen and glistening faintly in the dim light, speak to the intensity of your embrace, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. Instead, it darts away, like a guilty child caught red-handed. He scratches the back of his head, his posture stiff as he moves toward the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna go shower,” he blurts out, the tension in his voice betraying his attempt at casualness.

Shower? Now? Really? His dick is literally straining against his sweats, the outline unmistakable, practically begging for attention. You can still feel the heat of him pressed against you, the way he twitched beneath you just moments ago.

He’s not serious. There’s absolutely no fucking way.

“What?” Genuine confusion coats your tone, your brows furrowed. “You always shower in the mornings.”  

“I- I know, baby,” he stammers, his pitch climbing an octave as his composure unravels faster than a poorly wrapped gift. Panic flashes in his wide eyes, and his mouth hangs open, grasping for an excuse he clearly doesn’t have.  

“Then what’s wrong?” you ask, your softer now, a thread of worry weaving through your tone. You sit up, the oversized shirt you’d stolen from him slipping down your chest, covering your boobs he wished he could stare at for just a second longer. “Is something going on?”

“I-” His eyes dart around the room like the answer might be written on the walls. “I’m just tired.”  

Your brow arches, skepticism written all over your face. “Tired?” you echo, your face scrunching in disbelief. “You’ve never not wanted to have sex.”  

Jungkook visibly winces, his ears turning a bright shade of red. Rising from the bed like it might help, he sits at the edge, his hand nervously brushing your shin. “I- I had a long day at work.”

You tilt your head. “But you love having sex after a long day,” you say, your voice tinged with confusion. “Jungkook, seriously… what’s wrong?”  

He freezes, like a deer caught in headlights, his lips parting in silent panic. “Nothing!” he squeaks, his voice cracking. 

You lean closer, your suspicion mounting. “Well it’s clearly something! Do I not smell good?”  

His head whips toward you, his face a mixture of offense and horror. “What? You smell amazing!” he practically yells, his voice high-pitched. “Honey, I could eat you all day if you’d let me!” 

“Then why are you running off like this?”  

“I’m not running!” he protests, though the crack in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just- uh- need to clear my head!”  

“Clear your head?” you ask, squinting at him. “From what?”  

“All the thinking I’ve been doing!” he exclaims, clearly grasping at straws. “It’s... exhausting.”  

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Thinking about what?”  

His mouth opens, but words fail him. After a moment of floundering, he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles, his voice muffled behind his palms.  

“And you’re a terrible liar,” you fire back. “Spill it. What’s really going on?”  

He exhales deeply, dragging his hands down his face in defeat before clasping them together in front of him as if in prayer. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m trying so hard right now,” he mutters finally, his voice low and desperate, “and you’re not making it easy.”  

“Trying hard to what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued. 

“To not combust right now!” he exclaims, his voice rough with need. His eyes snap open, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. “You’re killing me, babe. Just... let me shower first, and then let’s just have a good night, okay?” His breath hitches, barely able to keep his composure as he watches you, a mixture of desperation and affection in his gaze. 

You blink at him, your mouth slightly open, trying to piece together his words. Before you can say anything, he kisses you once more, the movement rushed and almost sheepish.  

“Go to bed, honey,” he says, practically bolting for the bathroom. “I love you!”  

The door shut behind him with a sharp, decisive click, followed by the distinct sound of the lock turning. It was jarring — Jungkook never locked the door. There was no reason to; it was just the two of you living together, no one else to intrude. The realization sank in quickly, a bitter confirmation that this time, he was actively shutting you out, trying to keep you from coming in and uncovering whatever was weighing on him. You sat there, frozen, staring at the closed door in stunned silence.

Whatever it was, one thing was clear — you weren’t letting this slide. You were going to figure out what was going on with your boyfriend if it was the last thing you did.

After that night, you kept your distance.

Jungkook hated it. He hated the silence, the lack of your warmth, the way you avoided his touch. But he couldn’t blame you. He knew he was the root of the problem — he had fucked up that night. He should’ve been smoother, handled it better, but he completely blew it. Jungkook was good at many things. Lying was not one of them.

For a few days, you gave him the silent treatment. When he leaned in for a kiss before heading to work, you turned your face, leaving him with nothing but a peck on your cheek. The lack of communication was agonizing, eating away at him every time he caught your cold glances. But you were petty as fuck, and he knew it. You weren’t about to kiss his ass — not when it was obvious he’d lied to you that night. If he didn’t want to talk to you, then you weren’t going to talk to him.

When you were alone — at work, lying in bed, or just lost in thought — your mind spiraled. What could he possibly be hiding? The thought haunted you, gnawing at the edges of your sanity. Was he cheating on you? The idea felt impossible, unthinkable. Your Jungkook would never… or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. But his strange behavior, the evasiveness, planted seeds of doubt you couldn’t ignore. The very thought made you feel sick to your stomach, but the ache of curiosity refused to leave you alone.

You needed answers. And if Jungkook wasn’t going to give them to you, you decided to go to the one person who knew him best.

you [3:15 pm]: what is wrong with my boyfriend ??

jimin [3:17 pm]: That sounds like a question you should be asking your boyfriend, don't you think?

you [3:17 pm]: I KNOW YOU KNOW SOMETHING.

jimin [3:18 pm]: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???

you [3:18 pm]: whats her name

jimin [3:18 pm]: Who??

you [3:19 pm]: HIS SIDE BITCH

jimin [3:19 pm]: GIRL WHAT

jimin [3:19 pm]: You think he’s cheating on you?

you [3:23 pm]: is he ?? just tell me so i can save myself the humiliation pls

jimin [3:23 pm]: Bro no he would never

jimin [3:23 pm]: I’d chop his dick off and then kill the girl if he did

jimin [3:23 pm]: What makes you even think that in the first place?

you [3:24 pm]: hes acting weirdddd :(

you [3:24 pm]: i was trying to fuck him a few nights ago but he wouldnt let me touch him

jimin [3:25 pm]: First of all ew

jimin [3:25 pm]: Second of all

you [3:28 pm]: SECOND OF ALL ????

jimin [3:30 pm]: 😂😂😂

If you weren’t pissed at Jungkook before, you definitely were now.

After talking to Jimin, you finally learned the truth about the challenge. It wasn’t even the fact that Jungkook had hidden it from you that irritated you most — it was the challenge itself and his ridiculous competitive spirit. Why did he have to be such a sore loser?

According to Jimin, five of the seven participants had already been knocked out. Seokjin and Yoongi, being married men, didn’t stand a chance — they were bound to lose. Namjoon, like Jungkook, was in a committed relationship, but unlike him, Namjoon had the good sense not to put himself through that kind of pain just to preserve his pride. Hoseok and Taehyung? They were notorious party addicts — losing was inevitable for them. 

Now, it was down to just Jungkook and Jimin. And, of course, Jungkook’s competitive streak wouldn’t let him back down, no matter how ridiculous the stakes were. The thought made your blood boil. How could he have dragged himself — and by extension, you — into this mess?

You didn’t confront Jungkook about what you’d learned from Jimin, though you did drop the silent treatment act. Instead, you decided to take a different approach — one far more devious than simply ignoring him.  

Even with the heater running, the November chill still lingered in the air, but it didn’t stop you from dressing provocatively around the apartment. You roamed in short shorts, sometimes just your underwear, paired with a silk camisole that left little to the imagination. The thin fabric did nothing to hide your hard nipples, which poked against the material as you moved about. Jungkook would notice, of course — he’d grope your ass or give you a quick kiss goodbye before heading to work — but that was it.  

When he was away, whether at work or hanging out with his friends, you upped the ante. You sent him pictures of yourself in matching lingerie sets, always in his favorite color, knowing how much he loved them. Sometimes you sent something more daring — nudes that left nothing to the imagination. Usually, those photos had him texting back immediately, promising to deal with you as soon as he got home.  

But this time, his responses were different. Short. Terse. Instead of giving in, he’d simply tell you to stop.  

Frustration boiled over each time you read his dismissive replies. You groaned and threw your phone onto the bed in defeat. Why wouldn’t he just give in already? You wanted him so badly, and you refused to even touch yourself because what you craved was him — his hands, his mouth, his dick.  

If teasing him over the phone wasn’t working, you decided it was time to take things up a notch. One night, when you heard the shower running, you didn’t hesitate. Stripping off your clothes, you quietly stepped into the bathroom. The steam swirled around you as you opened the shower door and stepped in.  

Jungkook froze the moment he saw you. His wide eyes scanned you from head to toe, lingering on your curves as if he hadn’t seen them countless times before. His jaw tightened, his chest heaving as his restraint wavered. Then, with a groan of frustration, he threw his head back against the shower wall, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the temptation in front of him.  

Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. 

Despite his impressive self-control, his body betrayed him. His cock stood stiff and proud between you, a silent plea for attention. But no matter how much you pressed closer, your skin grazing his, or how boldly you touched yourself in front of him, he didn’t break.  

With a stoic determination that only fueled your frustration, he focused on washing off, his movements precise and distant, as though ignoring the tension hanging thick in the air. And just when you hoped he’d finally push past his limits, he’d step out of the shower, leaving you behind in the steam, your desire unfulfilled.

It was maddening. Teasing him was supposed to work — it always worked. And while you were determined to push him until he snapped, you had to admit, his composure was far better than you’d anticipated.

It was just days before Thanksgiving, which meant this painfully long month was finally nearing its end. But you were done waiting. Done teasing. The ache in your body had grown unbearable, a constant, gnawing need for him that no amount of patience could soothe.  

You were going to have him tonight, or you were going to actually die.  

Jungkook had a day off tomorrow, so he was sprawled on the couch, completely absorbed in his Nintendo game. His focus was unwavering, his brows furrowed in concentration as the soft clicks of the buttons filled the room.  

Dressed in a matching lacy black set that left little to the imagination, you moved silently behind him, your determination unwavering. Gently, you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, your fingertips tracing soft patterns over the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even glance up, much too engrossed in the virtual world on his screen.  

But then you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. The soft, teasing kisses trailed along his skin, featherlight yet deliberate, leaving a warm path behind. You felt the slightest hitch in his breathing, a telltale sign that despite his effort to remain focused, you were beginning to unravel him.

His eyes fluttered shut, his focus on the game completely shattered as his head tipped to the side, exposing more of his neck to your eager lips. His lips parted, heavy breaths escaping him, each exhale laced with a vulnerability you rarely saw.  

“Baby…” he moaned breathily, his voice low and strained, warning you.  

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. Your voice was soft, commanding, and it sent a shiver rippling through him. You felt his resolve beginning to crack, the tension in his body shifting as your hands slid down, teasing the line between tenderness and temptation.

Pulling away, you reached for the tie you had stolen from his drawer earlier. With a deliberate slowness, you brought it up to his eyes, slipping it over and covering his vision.  

“What-” he began, his voice tinged with confusion as his hands instinctively moved to stop you.  

But you were quicker, gripping his wrists to still him. Leaning in close, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “I know about your stupid challenge, Jungkook.”  

His body tensed beneath you, the air between you heavy with tension. His breaths came uneven now, a mixture of guilt, surprise, and something else simmering just beneath the surface.  

“Let me explain-” he started, his voice edged with desperation.  

“No,” you cut him off, your tone firm but quiet. “It’s too late for that now.”  

You secured the tie around his eyes, knotting it with careful precision. The soft fabric sat snugly against his skin, cloaking his vision completely. His lips parted as if to protest, but he stopped himself, seemingly caught between resisting and surrendering to whatever you had planned.

Rounding the couch, you reached down and plucked the device from his hands, setting it aside on the coffee table without a second thought. His body went rigid beneath you, his breath hitching as you settled in. The unmistakable hardness of his cock pressed against you, igniting a spark of satisfaction that curled your lips into a smirk. Slowly, you began to move, rocking your hips against his in steady, purposeful motions, grinding into him just enough to draw a reaction. 

“Do you know how much I missed you, Kook?” you murmured, your voice dripping with need as your lips hovered near his ear. “Missed your pretty cock… my fingers could never give me the satisfaction you do.”

His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the silver of his piercings glinting under the warm light, drawing your eyes like a magnet. That perfect little mole just beneath his lip was on full display, a teasing reminder of how irresistible he looked like this — teetering on the edge of control.  

His lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped, the sound low and unrestrained. It sent a shiver straight through you. His hands, no longer hesitant, slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. Each roll of your hips against his was deliberate, his touch coaxing you to grind harder, deeper, until the friction was almost too much to bear.

You hooked a finger into the fabric covering his eyes, tugging it free with a teasing slowness. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, his vision gradually clearing — and then he saw you. Nothing but his favorite set of yours graced your body, clinging to your curves in all the right ways.  

A low, breathless please escaped his lips, muttered more to himself than to you, as if trying desperately to maintain his composure. His eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away, a feeble attempt to resist you.  

But you weren’t having that. Your hand shot out, firm but gentle, cupping his chin and turning his face back toward you. His eyes snapped open, dark and hungry, as you reached behind you, unclasping the delicate hook of your bra. The straps slipped from your arms, the fabric discarded behind you without a care.  

Your hands came up, cupping your bare breasts, teasing yourself as his gaze darkened. His restraint frayed before your eyes as his hips bucked up into yours, seeking friction, a desperate need taking over. His jaw tightened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a clear sign of how much he craved you.  

Those should be his hands, not yours.

His hand twitched, reaching out instinctively, but you caught his wrist, guiding it purposefully down your body. Your gaze never wavered from his, locking him in place as you slid his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. His fingers pressed against the soaked fabric, and his breath hitched when he felt just how wet you were. The slickness coated your plush lips, a testament to how badly you wanted him.  

“Honey…” he warned, his voice shaky and breathless, teetering on the edge of control.  

“Please, Kook,” you whispered, your tone laced with desperation. “Fuck me tonight, or I’ll lose my mind. It’s been weeks. Don’t you miss me as much as I miss you?”  

Your plea hung between you, thick with need and longing. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle playing out in his dark eyes as his fingers twitched against you, his restraint unraveling with each passing second.

How was he supposed to get up and walk away with his cock straining painfully against his sweats, and you like this, laid out before him? His hand was still buried in your underwear, fingers sliding effortlessly over your slick folds, forming a V as they trailed up and found your clit. His jaw clenched at the way your body shuddered beneath his touch, the quiet moan slipping from your lips like a siren’s call.  

And then there was you — your smaller hands kneading your soft, perfect tits, the ones he loved so much, the sight alone nearly undoing him. The way you whimpered, the way your body responded to him, had his restraint crumbling to dust.  

This was it — his breaking point.  

He didn’t care about the fucking challenge anymore. Nothing mattered except you.

It was like a switch flipped inside him. In a sudden, fluid motion, he grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he laid you down on the couch. His broad frame hovered above you, the way you’d missed for so long. His dark eyes were locked onto yours, blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. 

He didn’t waste time. You were already soaked, your body more than ready for him. No need for extra preparation — he knew he’d slide right in. With one hand, he freed his cock, giving it a few languid strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties, tugging them to the side, baring your pretty, dripping pussy. He couldn’t wait to get inside it. The flushed tip glistened, teasing your entrance for a heartbeat before he pressed forward, the head sinking in.  

A sharp gasp escaped both your lips, the shared sensation so overwhelming it felt as if you were experiencing each other for the first time all over again. Jungkook moved slowly at first, his cock stretching you inch by inch, filling you with deliberate care. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened as he savored every moment, every inch of warmth he’d been denying himself for far too long. 

But restraint wasn’t his strong suit tonight. The need coursing through him was too much to bear. His movements quickened, his hips snapping forward with purpose. The wet, obscene sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room as his pelvis slapped against the back of your thighs. The steady rhythm of his thrusts deepened, each one more urgent than the last, driving both of you closer to the edge.

His upper body lifted off of you, and with a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his broad, muscular frame sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. He was absolutely stunning, every inch of him on display — his skin glowing under the dim light.  

His arm was covered in intricate tattoos, the ink curling around his bicep like a story you wanted to read. His chest was thick and broad, with a layer of muscle that made your fingers itch to trace every curve. His arms were solid and meaty, a strength you could feel even from just looking at him.  

You couldn’t help yourself. Your hand moved instinctively, running down the defined lines of his chest, your fingers grazing over the hard muscles of his stomach. His abs flexed beneath your touch, tense and firm, the warmth of his skin sending a wave of desire crashing through you. The simple touch made you want more, made you crave everything he had to offer.

But now it was Jungkook's turn to take control. With a swift motion, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he seized your other arm and pinned it above your head. The dominance in his touch was undeniable, and you knew exactly what that meant. He always did this when he wanted to take over, to remind you who was in charge.  

His hands moved quickly, grabbing one of your legs and effortlessly throwing it over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden shift, your body bent in half, your chest pressed against him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. His face hovered just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he studied you.  

A small whimper escaped your lips at the stretch, your body not as flexible as you'd like, but that discomfort was fleeting. It quickly morphed into something else — pleasure, intense and consuming — as his brutal thrusts began again, filling you completely.  

He was relentless, each movement pulling another gasp from you. His breath came out in ragged bursts, his voice low and laced with command. "You never listen to me, do you? Huh, you brat?" His words were a breathy growl, like a warning. "Just had to get fucked."

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mind completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. Every inch of your body was alive with sensation, making it impossible to form coherent thoughts. Instead, soft moans and breathless hums spilled from your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his thrusts deepened, each one hitting you harder than the last.  

Your body arched into him instinctively, eager to feel more, to give in to the rhythm he set. The tension was building, spiraling higher and higher with each movement, each sound leaving your mouth a mix of pleasure and need. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he was making you feel, his hands and his body taking you exactly how he wanted.

"You made this so hard for me, baby." His voice was breathless, low and laced with desire as his thrusts didn’t falter. "Can’t resist you. Too fucking pretty to not touch." He spoke as though he couldn’t control himself, his words slipping out between harsh breaths, his hands gripping your body with barely restrained urgency.

“M’already so close, Kook,” you moaned, your voice shaky with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. The pressure inside you was building, so close to release, but you needed him to push you over the edge.

“Yeah?” His gaze darkened, his hips snapping into yours with even more force. “Show me. Let me feel you, please.” His words were more than a plea — they were a command, a desperate need for you to let go so he could feel every inch of your pleasure. It’s been so long since he felt you. He wants to feel you. Needs to feel you.

With each punishing thrust, your breasts bounce uncontrollably, catching Jungkook's undivided attention. His hooded eyes are glued to them, pupils blown wide with lust, as if he's seeing something so utterly captivating it leaves him in a trance. The way they move, the way your body responds to him — it’s driving him wild. His tongue flicks over his lips as he lets out a low groan, jaw tightening, the need to mark you overwhelming every coherent thought.  

You gasp sharply, a broken moan escaping your lips as your orgasm slams into you with ferocious intensity. Your body arches off the couch, your hands still pinned above your head as waves of euphoria ripple through you. Your head tilts back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of your neck, and your chest heaves as you ride out the high.  

Jungkook growls when he feels your walls clench down on him, the tight grip almost sending him over the edge. “Oh, yeah,” he rasps, voice rough and deep, his hips grinding against you. “That’s it. Just like that... so fucking good.”  

But he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace quickens, the desperate need for his own release taking over. Each thrust is brutal, precise, and deliberate, as if he’s claiming every part of you, chasing that high he knows is just within reach. His grip on your hips is bruising, holding you in place as he slams into you again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.  

Finally, with a strained groan, he pulls out abruptly, his cock slick and throbbing in his hand. He strokes himself hard, the sight of your trembling, sweat slick body beneath him sending him over the edge. His release comes in hot, thick ropes, splattering across your stomach and tits in messy, deliberate streaks.  

He lets out a guttural moan, chest heaving as he watches his cum paint you like a masterpiece, dripping down your skin in glistening trails. His hand slows, and his eyes never leave the sight of you — glistening, marked, and utterly his.

Once he milks every last drop of his release, he does something that shouldn't be as devastatingly sexy as it is. Leaning down, his gaze locked onto yours with a feral intensity, he drags his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your stomach, collecting his own cum. The heat of his mouth follows, traveling upward until he captures a nipple between his lips, sucking and swirling his tongue with maddening precision.

You giggle, your face flushing with heat as he releases your nipple and makes his way up to your lips. The moment his mouth connects with yours, you taste his cum on his tongue, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss. He pulls back, resting his head on your chest with a contented sigh.

“Can’t believe you made me lose. I was so close,” he sulks, his voice laced with playful frustration.

“Jimin texted me. He gave in yesterday. You won,” you tease, your fingers softly running through his hair.

His head shoots up quickly, eyes wide like a dog hearing its name. “Seriously?”

You nod, giggling softly at his excitement.

Without warning, he stands up from the couch, pulling you with him. He scoops you up by your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

You squeal, half-laughing, half-terrified, “What are you doing?!”

“Making up,” he grins, his voice low with promise as he strides toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna fuck you all night.”

The door clicks shut behind you, the remnants of your clothes scattered haphazardly in the living room, and the night unfurls into a whirlwind of heated kisses and passion that sweeps you both away. Jungkook’s teasing words and touch keep you on edge, but it’s the way he makes you feel — desired, cherished, and completely consumed by him — that transforms the night into something unforgettable. 

You knew that this Friendsgiving would be one for the books. Jungkook wasn’t going to let any of the guys forget it. Always the bragger, that one. He’d be sure to shove it in their faces every chance he got.

And he might have won the bet, but it’s you who’s the true victor tonight.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[luveline]

could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333

thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k

You bend forward and breathe. 

Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 

Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 

“Hotch?” you ask. 

“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 

Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 

You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 

You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 

Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 

“What happened?” 

“They were kissing.” 

Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 

“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 

“Are you sure?” 

“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 

You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 

“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 

“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 

“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 

“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 

“You think I’m overreacting.” 

Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 

You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I can kill him.”

“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 

“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 

“Well… perhaps you can–”

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 

You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”

“What did JJ do?” you ask. 

“Angel?” 

He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 

He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 

“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 

“I didn’t really look.” 

Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 

You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  

“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.

“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 

Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 

You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 

“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 

Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 

If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 

“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 

“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 

Footsteps. A door opening. 

You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 

“Can you hug me?” 

“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 

“I am?” 

“Just a little…” 

You try your best to stand completely still. 

“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 

It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 

“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 

“Can I explain it to you later?” 

“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 

You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.

[chleem]

Casual /extra II

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: “Baby, no attachments.” yet, you’re at his childhood home, laughing with his parents, bonding with his siblings. 

Genre: situation-ship, smut, fluff, slight angst (read at own caution

⋆.˚ pls don't copy or translate my work

⋆.˚ official one shot | extra | extra3

♡⸝⸝ "fucked you in the bathroom, when we went to dinner"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Where you going?”

You ask, as Drew stands up. The warmth of his hands caressing your thighs is gone, now running through his hair. “Bathroom,” he mumbles, barely meeting your eyes. He walks off, without another glance back at the table. 

His sour mood is evident, by not only you, but all of your friends. 

To be fair, he didn’t even want to come tonight. He pleaded desperately for you to stay in with him, offering things to you that was ridiculous. Such as, doing your laundry for a month (he doesn’t even do his own). 

But you haven’t hung out with all your friends in a long time, and you missed them. So, tonight was non-negotiable with Drew. 

And he gave up with trying to reason with you, hence, why he decided to join you here, at the nice restaurant. He didn’t even make an effort to engage nicely with them, chuckling under his breath at random times and answering questions with short answers. Whenever you were talking, he would purposely distract you by touching you under the table, making it awkward for you and your friends. 

Drew knows your friends don’t like him; that’s why he’s sour. That’s also why he shows up to these hangouts, just to rub it in their faces. 

“Why did you invite him?” Lucy groans, after Drew was out of eye sight. Your five other friends of this group nod too, all letting out groans of frustration. “Hello, earth to y/n, we. Don’t. Like. Him.”

“He insisted on joining,” you shrug, forcing a smile. 

“Um, you could’ve insisted on him not joining,” Janet, another friend adds on. 

Your friend group was filled with weird people with different opinions, but one thing they’ve collectively agreed on was: they hate Drew. ‘Hate’ is a strong word, but that was the only way to describe their feelings towards Drew. 

They’ve expressed it a lot of times, so it’s become numb to you. 

“Are you guys finally together though?” Gary asks, sitting beside you. 

Oh. Every time they see you, they ask this question. 

“Of course not,” Lucy answers for you, sending you a cocky grin. One you always disliked, because it made you feel small. “Classmates, huh?”

“A really bad label,” Stacy adds on. Yeah, as if you didn’t already know. 

Great. Now it’s just your whole friend group judging you for being with Drew. Again. The last thing you needed from them.

“I visited his parents,” you aggressively say, stabbing into your food. Hopefully that will convince them Drew is a better person that what they think, right?

Wrong. They all ‘tsk’ in a disappointed manner, shaking their heads. “And…still classmates?”

“Well, he said I was his best friend,” you stuff the food in your mouth, “To his family.”

“He probably had to,” Josh speaks up this time, “and wow, is that the first time he called you his friend?” 

You don’t miss the sarcasm in his voice, and you send him a glare. He raises his hands in defense, the table laughs. 

You don’t find the humor in this situation. Why were they so judgmental towards the relationship with Drew? It’s not like he’s the biggest jackass ever. You’ve seen every side there is to Drew, they just don’t know him like you do. “Can you guys cut it off?” You say, not trying to hide the annoyance in your voice. 

“We’re just joking,” Janet laughs, glancing around, “besides, we’re worried for you.”

You chew and swallow the food in your mouth, sending her an unappreciative smile, “‘worried’ for me?”

“Yes, he’s obviously not… well, in love with you,” Janet continues, “we don’t want you with someone who clearly doesn’t care for you.”

“He cares for me,” you defend, furrowing your eyebrows at them. You look around the table, seeing your friends glance down at their food, afraid to meet your eyes. “He cares for me.”

“Sure he does,” Stacy bitterly agrees with you. That tone pisses you off. “Maybe privately, he does, but what about in public? Starting off with the most basic, labels.”

You hate how right your friends are. As rude and mean they’re being, deep down, you know they’re right. The ‘no attachments’ thing is bullshit, especially when nothing about the two of you is casual. 

Five, no close to six months, nothing about that is causal. 

“That…doesn’t matter,” you murmur. Wrong; it mattered a lot, to everyone and to you. You just hated to admit you weren’t as chill or casual as Drew was, how he made everything romantic seem friendly with you. 

When you look around, everyone is now staring at you pitifully. 

You didn’t like that. That pity stare. There’s nothing to be pity of. Bunch of people around the world right now might be having situation-ships too. Nothing to pity. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Yeah. That’s what you keep brainwashing yourself to believe. 

‘The girl that he bangs on his couch’. Yeah. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Your phone on the table lights up, and it reads bathroom. now. 

Drew. “Um, excuse me,” you stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

As you slowly get up and walk away, your friends weren’t very careful with the volume of their voice. You hear one of them calling you a loser, still hanging around just for a good dick to suck. 

That must be Janet. Her lonely ass must be jealous. 

But part of you knew she wasn’t wrong. You were a loser. The biggest loser to exist. The loser of losers, if that even is a thing. 

Casual. Your friends succeeded once again, in making you doubt everything with Drew. 

——

“Really boring, right?”

Drew pulls you in by the waist, a lazy smile on his lips as he stares down at you. He leans against the sink, making you stand between his legs. 

This restaurant had two bathrooms, each with their own sink inside. So, Drew took full advantage of that. 

“Hmm,” you hum carelessly. You didn’t want agree with him; you tried to make this evening nice, but his attitude towards your friends just weren’t helping. You keep your gaze around the collar of his jacket, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, playfulness still hinted in his words. His hand rub circles around your waist, as he tries to make eye contact with you, bending his head down to your level. 

You advert your gaze even more, now focusing on the bracelet around his wrist. Now that you think about it, he always has this on, since the day you got it for him. 

Was that casual to do? To keep the bracelet on at all times. 

“Look at me, would you?” Drew’s tone turns serious, and he pinches the side of your waist harshly.

You flinch, finally looking up at him. You meet his blue eyes, a mix of concern and something else that you can’t read. His raised eyebrows tell you that he wants you to talk, to tell him what’s on your mind. 

Should you? But, where do you even start? With his attitude tonight, or with your friend’s comments? Or with this whole casual thing, which is basically the beginning to it all.

Your lips pout on its own, resting your hands around his wrist. “That was uncalled for,” you murmur, looking down at his bracelet again. 

“What was?” Drew’s pinch one your waist is more soft this time, wanting to get the words out of you. 

“Doing that,” you say, playing with his chained bracelet. Shit. You’re gonna say it. You’re gonna call him out for his behavior. “Being rude to my friends.”

A scoff escapes Drew. He then brings his hand up to your face, forcing you to look up at him. Like second nature, you lean your face into the palm of his hand, waiting for him to explain himself. “Babe, your friends were the rude ones.”

The feeling inside your stomach is indescribable. The nickname sends you butterflies, but the words that follow don't. 

“How?” You ask, crossing your arms.  

He licks his lips, squinting his eyes at you. “It was so fucking obvious.”

“Was it?” 

“Yes- yes, it was,” Drew straightens his posture, taking his hands off you. The warmth of him is gone, now with the presence of a man trying to explain his reasonable case of being bratty. “They asked loaded questions to me this whole night.”

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking hard to the stuff they asked Drew. Shit. They were. Your friends didn’t even trying to hide their discontent with him tonight. 

“They hate me,” he adds on, “C’mon, I leave the table for like, a few minutes, and they talked shit, right?”

The way he looks at you; he challenges you to disagree with him. But you couldn’t; he was right. Your friends hate him, making you constantly doubt whatever this was with Drew. 

“Wasn’t all shit,” you lie, sending him the smallest smile ever. 

Drew makes the ‘tsk’ sound, shaking his head as he gives you a tired smile. “What they say then?” He asks, leaning back against the sink again. 

His eyes look at you in anticipation, biting down on his lips. 

You do not want to tell him what they said. It was rude, and although it was about Drew, it affected you more than it should have. The seeds of doubt are always planted by your friends, they never put you at ease with this relationship. 

You give him a lazy smile, snaking your arms around his neck. You lean in close to him, a seductive look in your eyes. “Does it matter? They talk shit, all they ever do.”

Drew’s lips slightly part, and he glances quickly down at your lips. A smile appears, “I see what you’re doing. You’re distracting me.”

You shrug lightly, before planting a small kiss on his jaw. “Is it working?”

You hear a chuckle escape from him, and his hand wraps around the back of your head. His eyes keep bouncing between your lips and eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear, “annoyingly so, you minx.”

Without another comment, Drew kisses you, soft and slow. 

You return the kiss, escalating into a whole make-out session. 

You hate how your body reacts to him; feeling a pool of wetness form between your legs. Fuck. 

Something pokes against your lower stomach, and you pull away from Drew. You glance down; he’s erected. “Shit,” you curse, as his hands slide down your body. He squeezes your ass, burying his face into your neck as he breathes the skin there. 

“I…I can’t go back to the table like this,” he murmurs, referring to his erection. 

You watch as his back rises and falls, through the sink mirror. Even with this thick white jacket he has on, you can tell his breathing has sped up. Your lips form a straight line, running your hands through his short hair. 

In the bathroom? Right in the middle of dinner? It was highly inappropriate. 

Wrapping your hands around his face, you pull him up to meet his eyes. He looks at you pleadingly, lips parted with drool on the corner of his lips. 

Fuck. How is one suppose to say no to that look? He looked as if he physically needed you; needed you to calm the… ‘growing’ in his pants. 

“Ten minutes,” you tell him, which immediately lights the spark in his eyes. He looks like a puppy! You smile at that thought, as he straightens himself, switching your positions. 

“Ten minutes? Enough for two rounds,” he teases, lifting you to sit on the sink. 

“No! One round,” you say, which gets cut off by Drew kissing you again. As much fun as two rounds sound, the longer you linger in here, the more obvious it is that the two of you are fucking. 

He groans into your mouth, spreading your legs to stand between them. His hands move fast into your dress, slipping your underwear off. The cold surface of the sink hits your thighs and pussy, adding to the heat growing within you. 

Drew trails his kisses down your neck, as your hands work on undoing his belt. 

You moan when he sucks on the sweet-spot around your neck, the belt dropping onto the floor with a hard thud. “Drew…” you moan out, messy hands tugging his hair as he continues to form hickeys around your neck. 

You want to run your hands around his stomach, chest, abs. But the jacket he has on prevents that, being zipped up the whole way. This jacket looked great on him, but would look better on the floor. 

Your hands fidget with the zipper, tugging with no luck of it moving. 

Drew pulls away from your neck, a chuckle escaping, “babe, gently.”

His hands overlaps yours, guiding you to pull the jacket zipper down. It reveals that he isn’t wearing anything inside; a feast to your eyes. “Is that why you refused to take this off?” You ask, referring to before the dinner started.

“I was invited last minute,” he shrugs the jacket off, as if it wasn’t his fault for the improvised outfit. 

“Right, but you weren’t invited,” you remind him, when he insisted on joining you when you were leaving, throwing on a random outfit nearby. You were busy putting your heels on, so you couldn’t see the moment when he got dressed. You didn’t even know he owned a jacket like this. 

“Mmhm,” his mind was elsewhere, attaching his lips to yours again. Sloppy and more lustful this time, as your hands wander around his body. It’s hot under your touch; his abs flexing as you run your hands over them. 

His hand grips onto your thigh, before moving closer to your heat. 

When the warmth of his fingers hit your pussy, you moan loudly into his mouth. 

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we’re in public, babe.”

The tip of your ears heat up too, from the embarrassment and realization that you’re in public, most likely having people hear you from the other side of the door. “Sorry,” you murmur, burying your face into his neck. 

Drew sticks two fingers into your hole, and starts thrusting at a faster speed than usual. Your breathing becomes uneven, as you try to tone down your moans. 

Drew wasn’t having it easy either, as you hear low grunts escaping him. “Fuck,” he curses, adding another digit, “you’re tight tonight.”

“Just fuck me already,” you manage to say, hands gripping on his biceps. Surely, this was enough foreplay, right? 

He chuckles again, this time at your impatience. He pulls his fingers out of you, his hands going to the back pocket of his jeans. 

The familiar gold packaging comes out, and his hands skillfully rip them open. 

“…couldn’t put on a shirt but bought a condom with you?” Laughter escapes you, as you watch him unzip his pants. 

He glances up at you, and when he sees you smiling ear-to-ear, he can’t help but match you, “wasn’t gonna show up totally unprepared, right?”

You laugh again; what an unbelievable guy. “Shirt’s optional but condom a must. Got it.”

Drew lets his pants and boxers hang around his knees, his cock standing proud. The sight immediately wipes the smile off your lips, gulping as you imagine it stuffed inside you. 

“The chances of fucking you wherever and whenever is high,” Drew says, wrapping the condom around his dick. 

He looks up at you, seeing your gaze fixed on his hard cock. A smirk helps themselves to his lips, as his hands tug on your waist. An idea flashes in his mind as he looks over your shoulder, at the big sink mirror. 

“Get off,” his voice brings you back, looking at him with confused eyes now. “C’mon, trust me.”

You let him bring you back onto the ground, before flipping you over. You see both your reflections in the mirror, your back hitting his chest, his dick poking your upper ass. 

When you meet his eyes through the mirror, you understand where this was going. 

“Watch yourself while I destroy your fucking pussy, hmm?”

Oh. Oh. Was it possible to be turned on by words? 

Drew lifts up your dress, revealing your wet core. You hold onto the sink for support, grip getting tighter when you feel Drew’s tip against your entrance. 

Then, he slips in, going deep until it’s completely nestled inside you. 

“Fuck,” you moan, glancing up at Drew. He sends you a smirk, enjoying this too. His hand goes to your stomach, and he lifts you backward, resting against his chest again. 

“Grip my hair, and keep your eyes open, alright?” His voice drops low, one hand moving to knead your breasts. 

You nod, bringing your hands behind you; one tugging gently around his hair, another around his arm that’s supporting you. 

He starts to thrust into you, rather roughly and fast. “Shit,” you moan, the sensation sending you to outer space. With his thick cock slamming into you, his hands roaming your body, your hands running through his short hair, it feels euphoric. 

Your eyes can barely stay open, as you look at the reflection in the mirror. Drew leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along your shoulder, which sends goosebumps to your skin. 

You watch as one of his hand slips between your thighs, starting to massage your pussy. “Fuck,” you moan, louder than you should be. You couldn’t help it, the pleasure was extraordinary. 

He kisses your earlobe, “i’know baby, but keep it down, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” it barely comes out, as the thrusts and massages to your core intensifies. The familiar knot in your stomach forms, informing you that you’re close. “Drew…”

His pace doesn’t stop, and when you lean your head back on his shoulder, he goes harder, “close?”

You nod with any energy left, and Drew uses his free hand to lift your face up again. He kisses your cheek, “use your words.”

You flutter your eyes open, looking at the two of you in the mirror. It was extremely hot, to see Drew filling you up, his hands all around you. The mirror starts to fog up a little, with all the grunting and pressure filling in here. 

“I’m coming,” you force out, and meet Drew’s gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes meet yours, seething with lust. 

You clench around him, your hand going around Drew’s, which is massaging your pussy. He stops massaging, and he intertwines your hands together. The stickiness doesn’t bother you; why should it?

“Fuck,” he groans, his thrusts to your g-spot growing sloppy. 

You tilt your head sideways, and you give him a quick kiss, which sends you over the edge. Your orgasm explodes inside of you, cum dripping out and over Drew’s cock. 

Body giving up, you lean completely against Drew, as he helps himself to his. His cock twitches, and you feel the familiar hot liquid filling up. 

Both of you are breathing heavily, euphoria radiating off your bodies. Fuck. This might just be one of the best fucks you’ve had with Drew. But in a public restroom? Who would’ve thought. 

“You’re so hot,” he compliments, before planting a small kiss on the side of your face. 

You giggle at that stupid comment, looking at him through the mirror; He’s got a playful smile on his lips, looking at you with smitten eyes. “You’re great with your words.”

He chuckles, his hands tapping against the side of your waist, signaling you to move. You use the energy left inside of you, helping him slip out. Leaning against the sink, you watch as Drew grabs tissues to wipe your core, then throwing his condom away. 

After that, he grabs your underwear on the floor. You get yourself dressed, him doing the same thing. 

“Look, only…only seven minutes passed,” Drew comments with a sly smile on his lips, showing you his watch. 

You roll your eyes, your lips betraying you by forming a smile. “Cocky much?” 

He puts his jacket back on, the last piece of clothing. “Well, you've definitely enjoyed the taste of it.”

You hit his chest playfully, his remark sending butterflies to your stomach. He laughs, zipping his jacket only halfway. Your eyebrows furrow at his exposed chest that pierces through the top; and you reach for the zipper. 

Drew stays in place, and you feel his gaze on the top of your head, his hot breath hitting you. You ignore the tension that pulls; when you’re done, you pat his chest, “all done, buddy.”

“‘Buddy’?” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, eyes squinting down at you. 

You send him a soft smile, seeing him glance down at your lips. “What?”

“Call me buddy one more time,” his hands wrap around your waist, and he leans closer to you, “and you’ll get it.”

His dirty and challenging tone sends shivers down your spine, something you find yourself liking a bit too much. The pit of your stomach yells at you at how hypocritical Drew was being right now, but you ignore it. 

And just because it’s fun, you lean into his ear, and whisper, “best buddy ever.”

Tickles are sent to the side of your body, making you jump and melt into his arms. You laugh uncontrollably; Drew knew you were ticklish, using it to his full advantage. 

“Stop! Stop!” You yell between laughter, your legs ready to give up. 

“Don’t call me that then,” he stops tickling you, grip on you tight to make sure you don’t fall. He kisses the tears of laughter from the corner of your eyes, “I don’t like it.”

“Noted,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. You glance down at his lips, and he does the same to yours. 

Drew gives you the look; he wants to kiss you. 

And you let him, closing your eyes and feeling his lips against yours. 

Is it still casual if you kissed me like it’s the last time you ever will? You hate how this thought appears in your mind again, haunting you. 

You pull away, the pressure of it getting overwhelming. “Let’s head back, yeah?”

“We have to?” His eyes stay glued to your lips. “You know, We could…we could just leave.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “no!”

“Say you got plans tomorrow morning,” he shrugs, “I’ll say it for you, if you can’t-”

You cross your arms, looking up at him. “Why would I leave early?”

Drew parts his lips, and he brings his hand up to your elbow. He rubs the area there in soft circles, a playful look in his eyes, “…grab some froyo?”

You drop your arms, looking at him disappointedly. When he saw that, he hurriedly adds, “and I got errands to run. Really.”

You contemplate in your mind about this; ditching this dinner to hang out privately with Drew? Yeah, that sounded like something fun. It must be better than staying awkwardly, having your friends judge Drew. 

Casual. Casual, casual, casual. Some casual froyo with Drew, and maybe ending up with sex in his dorm room. 

Yeah. Seemed like things people whose ‘casual’ would do. 

“Fine. You’re treating me though,” you unlock the door, walking out the bathroom. 

“I always treat you,” you hear him murmur behind you, following closely behind as you two walk back to the table. 

You interrupt the conversation they’re having, grabbing your purse from your seat. They look at your questionably, before their gaze lands sourly on Drew behind you. “i’ve got something, tomorrow morning, so we’re heading off,” you try sounding apologetic, “sorry to leave this early.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Lucy glances between the two of you, “text us when you get home.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize again, before your friends wave goodbye to you. You don’t miss the hateful looks they leave on Drew, as they tell you to take care until the next time you guys meet. 

After that, you and Drew leave the restaurant, letting the doorman do his job of getting a taxi. 

A warmth around your hand catches you by surprise; Drew holds your hand, pulling you closer to him. You look down at the holding of hands; then back up at him. He’s staring down at his phone, scrolling through his insta feed. 

Holding hands. Something very casual to do, apparently. 

“What are you watching?” You ask, leaning on his shoulder. 

He laughs, showing you the screen. It’s a video of a monkey pointing towards the glass, which has different play-doughs lined along it. 

You don’t get the humor in it, but you smile, because it makes Drew smile. 

The two of you stand there, watching different posts on his phone until the taxi arrives. 

Your mind finds it strange how ‘casual’ you two are. 

Because, in the bottom of your heart, you weren’t so sure if this was casual anymore. Along the way, the lines of ‘no attachment’ seemed to have blurred. Blurred to the point of no return. 

-------------------------------

word count: 4.1k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: goddamn, i would fall for this toxic relationship too T_T

sry for not posting lately, i got very busy lately! i promise you, flashing lights 6 & not a big deal pt4 is coming sooooon. but hope you enjoyed this extra, and also, thx for blowing up the halloween special, was NOT expecting that. thank you sm! your lovely comments inspire me to write these fics!

btw, watched obx s4, and the ending broke me T_T like tffff

other | official one shot | extra | extra 3

[luvyeni]

HALLUCINATION ,, 양정인

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeongins love for you is too strong …  ヾ

stalker!양정인・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎3.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . stalking , delusions , jeongin isn’t well at all , sex ( sorta ) , he’s basically in a delusion the entire time he’s with you THIS IS A DARK FIC IF YOU DONT LIKE IT DONT READ IT

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 just something i wrote because hallucination is my favorite solo off the album …

he loved everything about you; the way you looked, when your eyes would crinkle when you smiled. the way you smelled, like warm sugar cookies or vanilla. the way you dress — god he loved the way you dress, the real low waist jeans that showed off your hips, a small heart tattoo on the left side of them; the shirts you wore that accentuate your curves and lifted your boobs

and his absolute favorite was the miniskirts you wore; he hated when you wore them outside, he hated that the people could see such beauty for free. it made him so mad when you’d bend over and all the boys would eye your ass, it made him want to rip their eyes out. you were his, how dare they objectify you like that — they didn’t deserve to see you all dressed up like that , that should be for him, and only him.

he couldn’t look at other girls; they were like blank faces when they tried to talk to him, their voices all sounding the same, which was annoying and screechy. but not you he, he could listen to you talk all the time, no matter the subject. hated them; all of them. he only had eyes for you, he devoted himself to you. “jeongin what are you staring at?”

he turned to hyunjin, confused. “huh?” he he asked, seungmin scoffed. “you’re staring at her again aren’t you? give it up, she doesn’t know you.” he was quick to fight back. “she does know me.” he said matter factly. “we’ve talked.” he said. “once.” hyunjin replied. “and she didn’t even call you by your name, she called you another guys name because she thought you were him, and now you’ve convinced yourself you’ll be with her.”

hyunjin wasn’t wrong; you hadn’t talked to him since that one time you called him jaehyun, but he could tell right then and there you were destined to be together, and you were gonna be together. “that’s because we are gonna be together.” he collected his stuff, standing up. “you just wait and see.” he walked away. “he does know he can’t just stalk her on social media and from afar right? he actually has to talk to her?” seungmin said.” hyunjin shook his head. “you know how he is, you can’t tell him anything.”

so what he actually never talked to you? how dare they doubt your love for each other. so what if you've never actually talked to him? you said it with your eyes and your body? why would you wear such provocative outfits if it wasn’t for his eyes. you were sending him a message. “excuse me?” he looked up from his phone. “i said are you gonna take my order?” his eyes widened and he was frozen in shock. “oh i know you.” your sweet soft voice. “jaehyun right?” close enough for him. “no that’s not right…” you said, looking at his name tag. “jeongin, hi jeongin.” he couldn’t speak, you were actually talking to him. “are you gonna take my order jeongin or are you just gonna stand there.” he could hear the teasing tone in your voice, indicating you were joking with him. “oh-oh um yea.”

“just two coffees please.” he nodded his head, ringing up your order. “mo-move to that line.” he stuttered. “thanks.” you gave him a smile before walking away with your friend. “jeongin back to work.” he quickly continued his work, smiling to himself … you said his name.

“that was weird to do you know him?” your friend asked as you walked away, you turned back to look at the boy. “im pretty sure i had mistaken him for the guy i bought the essay from.” you said. “i don’t know him , know him.” you said, picking up the coffee. “the way he looks at you is weird.” she said. “oh come on you don’t even know him, how can you label him like that.” you said. “you are so naive.” she said. “it’s gonna get you in so much trouble.” you just smiled. “please what can he do? look how harmless he is.”

if you only knew what a boy with a mind like jeongin could truly do…

as a kid jeongin always had a vivid imagination; like really vivid, while he was watching cartoons, the tiny animations would jump out of the tv and keep him company throughout the day. he parents would always ask him who he was talking to and as a kid he would answer and they thought it was pretty cute — but him saying that at 15 is way different then him saying it at 4. he learned quick to never tell people about his visions unless he wanted to be bullied.

he didn’t see anything wrong with his visions; he’d grown used to them as he got older coming into adulthood, but the world did so he kept quiet — especially when he met you.

“you like me don’t you?” you sat on his bed, wearing his favorite outfit. “you think im pretty?” he sat on the bed, nodded. “of course i like you.” he said. “and who doesn’t think you’re pretty? tell me and i’ll kill them.” you chuckled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “you’re so cute innie.” he loved when you called him that. “i just love you so much.” your hand traveling down to his neck. “yo-you look so pretty.” he sighed, you hummed. “yeah?” your hand landing on top of his hardening cock. “you’re so hard.” you palmed him in your hand. “so big.”

he hissed, his hand covering yours; moving along with yours. “fuck.” he moaned. “your hand feel so good.” he bucked up. “i want you to fuck me.” you whispered in his ear. “don’t you want to fuck me?” he whimpered. “i do -oh fuck- i do so bad.” his breathing heavy. “im gonna cum.” he said. “gonna cum so much.” his voice was strained. “please let me cum.” his hand moving with yours. “cum for me innie.” he gasped out , cumming. “oh fuck fuck fuck.” his legs were shaking; he saw little white dots in his eyes as he came. “fuck yn i love you so much, so fucking much.” he repeated over and over.

*ring* *ring* *ring* his eyes shot open; he was alone… there was no one there in his apartment; like he always was. he didn’t even allow his friends to come over. who the fuck interrupted him like this? “shit.” he looked down, the wet stain in his pants from his orgasm. he picked his phone up; answering it. “what?”

“what the hell were you doing, i have been calling you for 45 fucking minutes.” he heard seungmin said. “45 minutes?” he looked at the clock; had he been in his own head for that long. “i was busy; working on a paper.” he said. “what do you want?”

“yeah whatever, just wanted to let you know chan is throwing a party tonight.” seungmin said. “and since you don’t even let your own friends into your apartment I just wanted to know if you’re coming?” he was about to say no but seungmin beat him to it. “that girl will be here, yn or whatever her name is, maybe you’ll finally grow a pair of balls and talk to her.” the older boy said. “so you coming or what?”

he could finally see you again; maybe even talk to you. “yeah i’ll be there.” he said, standing up from his bed. “then get your ass over here so you can help set up.” and with that he hung up the phone. what was he gonna wear? he needed to impress you. “ugh.” he felt the sticky remnants in his pants… but first he needed a shower.

you didn’t mind a party; it wasn’t your favorite thing, to get blacked out drunk and have a freshman trying to get cool points grinding on you, but you did dabble in them here and there — especially when your friend knew the host. “he’s the ta in my class he’s really cool.” she said as you walked through the party. “is he really, or is it because you find your face in his lap after class?” your friend gasped. “hey i don’t not have my face in his lap after class.” your friend held her chest, before she smirked. “it’s the other way around.”

“bitch.” you both laughed, making your way into the kitchen to grab a few drinks. “told him i was gonna bring a friend, he said he was was bring his friend. he’s around your age, quiet and pathetic.” she said. “you know how you like them.” rolling your eyes. “that isn’t even true.” you took a sip of the spiked punch. “oh please, you want a guy to worship you. this guy will chan said, he said he’s the nicest guy you’d ever met apparently.” she scoffed. “which i think is bullshit because at the end of the day he is a man.” you chuckled, your friend was something else. “well he seems sweet.”

“there you are.” chan greeted the boy as he met up with him. “hey hyung.” he finally made it to the party. “how are you? almost thought you weren’t gonna make it; seungmin said he couldn’t get ahold of you.” he looked around for you. “oh i was working on a paper.” he said; it wasn’t like he could say he was having a daydream of you so vivid he came in his pants, only to be woken up much to his demise. “hey you good? you look tired.” the elder boy wrapped his arms around his shoulder. “im fine hyung, really.”

“good cause i got someone for you to meet.” he really didn’t want to meet anyone new; especially since he was only really here for you; where were you? did you get here yet? he wondered what you were wearing. a dress? pants? — or a tiny skirt that he could easily flip up and fuck you in front of everyone, claiming you; ready to kill anyone who looked at your body. “jeongin.” chan pulled him out of his thoughts. “i said you ready? she’s a really nice girl.”

he couldn’t say no to his hyung; so he followed him. he’d just let whoever it is talk while he waited for you; where were you anyway? “he finally shows up, didn’t know jerking off takes that long.” seungmin said, the guys laughing. “stop it , here they come.” chan said. “hey welcome, im chan.” he definitely didn’t want to be doing this. “im yn.” he whipped around, and there you stood in all your beauty; its like you got even more beautiful since the last time he saw you — which was like a few days ago. “are you stalking me?”

your light hearted smile; made his heart flutter, he almost didn’t hear what you said. “you two know each other?” chan asked, confused. “technically i only learned his name a few days ago, but i accidentally mixed him up with someone else one day.” you held your hand up. “nice to meet you properly.” chan pushed his shoulders; nudging his head towards you. “o-oh h-hi.” he hesitantly took your hand, shaking it. “he’s shy, don't worry.” chan said. “it’s fine.” you said. “do you want to go get a drink with me?” you took initiative, trying to make him less nervous. “go with her, don’t just stand there.” chan whispered. “su-sure.”

“good, come on.”

he followed behind you; you smiled waving at different people as you made your way back into the kitchen. “here.” you handed him a cup. “i-i can pour it.” he said, you nodded, he poured his cup, and topped yours off. “thank you.” you took a sip. “what are you in school for?” this was the longest he ever been in your space; your warm vanilla scent made him feel at ease. “oh um business.” he said you nodded. “im going for children’s studies, i want to be a teacher.” you smiled to yourself. “i love children.” he could listen to you speak forever; in fact he wish he could record you and then that way he could play it all day through his headphones. “im so sorry, i talk too much.”

he shook his head. “no-no i don’t mind at all.” he said, not wanting you to stop. “well thank you for listening to me, most people think i talk too much.” who dared to say something like that about you; he’d kill them. “it’s fine with me.” he said.

he felt like he was in heaven for the next hour; talking to you about everything, you were so lively; the way your hands moved animatedly when you explained something; he became a lot more relaxed as he sipped on his drink. “let’s dance.” you said; you were much more tipsy than he was; but clear headed enough. “oh i don’t really dance.” you scoffed, standing up. “who says.” you fixed the tiny skirt you were wearing, it exposed your thighs, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. “please.” giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which he immediately caved because why would he deny you anything. “oh-oh okay.”

he got up, following you to the dance floor. you spun around wrapping your arms around his neck. “is this okay?” you grabbed his hand, putting it on your waist; really low on your waist. “yes.” he sighed softly as you both moved to the beat of the music. “i think you’re really cute jeongin.” you played with the nape of his hair. “i-i think you’re cute too.” your finger traced his jaw. “we could go back to your place?”

his place? what about that room? he could let you see that room… the room he dedicated to you, covered in pictures he took from your social medias, and sneaky photos he took of you hung up everywhere. old tissues and old cup he’d taken when you’d visited to the cafe — and the sweaters, three sweaters he took. how did he get them? he waited until you would get up even for a minute or two , forgotten about the sweaters giving him the chance to swoop in and take it.

he almost managed to find the perfume you wore; it smell just like you, so he sprayed it all over the room, covering it in you; it was your room, no one was allowed to see that room, only him. “my-my place is really far away.” he said. “that’s fine, i can spend the night, right?” he gulped, he could just keep you away from that room. he could just say it’s used for storage. “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” you said. “no-no i do.” he said, you smiled. “let’s go then.” you said. “let me go say goodbye to my friend.” you reached up giving him a kiss on the cheek. “i’ll be back.” watching you walk away.

once you returned; he guided you out of the house to his car, not bothering to say goodbye to his friends, he’d see them when he saw them. the ride back to his was quiet; a comfortable quiet though. he would look over at you and you’d smile back, before looking out the window.

he finally made it back to his place, the two of you making your way to his bedroom, where you immediately kissed his neck. “mhm.” he sighed as you attacked his neck with kisses. “that feels good.” he closed his eyes, allowing you to walk him back until he hit bed, falling down. he laid back , letting you grind down on him. “do-don’t tease please.” he begged, you giggled. “i won’t.” you climbed down , in between his lap. he lifted his hips allowing you to pull his pants down to his ankles. “you’re hard.” you kissed him through his boxers, pulling his cock from his confinements, he hissed as the air hit his cock. “so big.” you kissed the tip of his cock, taking him fully into your mouth. “ah shit!”

you bobbed your head up and down his cock. he gripped the sheets, throwing his head back as you worked down on him, gagging noises. “you’re so good at that.” his hand coming up to your head, pushing your head down. “oh fuck im gonna cum.” he groaned, bucking his hips up. “gonna cum inside your mouth.” he moaned loudly as he shot his load. “ooooh fuck!” he fell back against the bed. he felt like he was floating on a cloud. “you liked that?” he nodded breathlessly. “so much.”

you climbed into his lap, he sat back up, holding you by your lower back. “i want you inside me.” you said stroking his length. “want you to stretch me out.” you pushed your panties to the side, running the tip of his cock along your slit. “fuck sit on it.” you finally sat down on him, engulfing him. “jeongin you’re so big.” you moaned into his ear as you began to bounce on him. “fuck you’re so tight , i dreamt of this.” he groaned. “you’ve dreamt of fucking me?” you moaned. “ye-yeah all the time.”

you didn’t say much else, speeding your movements. “oh fuck , if you don’t slow down im gonna cum.” he groaned; he prayed for this day, the day he could feel you around him, sucking him for all that he’d got. “please cum , i want it inside me.” you whined, he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” you moaned out. “me-me too -fuck- lets cum together.” he held your waist tightly. “im cumming!” you screamed out. “jeongin!”

he held you down, letting out a loud moan as he came. “fuck fuck fuck.” he groaned cumming. “oh my god.” he breathed heavily, your foreheads pressed against each other. you smiled, kissing his lips. “you’re so cute innie.”

he woke up the next morning to an empty bed; but he knew someone was there; because of the aspirin on his bathroom sink with a note. he also woke up with a hard on, the night before flashing through his mind in little bits, but just enough for him to jerk off to before class. he quickly go ready, leaving out of his apartment.

the first thing he did was try and find you when he got to campus. “yn?” you turned around facing the boy. “oh jeongin, you’re okay.” you looked really worried. “of course i am why wouldn’t i be?” he said. “you only had one drink I didn’t think you’d basically black out like that.” you said; he blacked out last night? was it after you two had sex? “what time did you leave?” he asked. “right after you past out.” you said. “i didn’t stay long.”

you looked serious so he knew you weren’t fucking with him. “you left right after?” he said. “yeah; i stayed for about 5 minutes, i gave you a aspirin and left.” you said… it felt so real, like he could still feel you on him; he could smell your smell when he woke up in the morning, he could hear you moaning in his ear, telling him you were cumming. “you okay jeongin?” he looked at you. “um yeah.” he said. “you look sick; maybe you should go home and sleep, and this time sleep on your bed and not your couch.”

his couch; but he woke up in his bedroom? “ye-yeah i think i do.” he said really confused, his mind was really foggy. “maybe when you feel better we can actually hang up; this time when you’re sober and not muttering crazy things under your breath.” you chuckled. “oh no what did i say?” he said praying he didn’t embarrass himself. “something about my sweaters smells really nice.” you chuckled, but he was sweating now. “i wasn’t wearing one.”

“did you go into any of my rooms?” he asked, you shook your head no. “no i did use your bathroom, that’s why i left the aspirin in there, i hope you don’t mind.” he shook his head. “we have the same body wash, that's funny.” he cracked a fake smile. “we can we hang out for real?” you asked. “so-soon i promise, I’m gonna go home and get some rest.” you nodded. “i hope you feel better.” you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking away.

he quickly rushed home; kicking his shoes off. he made his way to the living room and the pillows were thrown around like he’d slept on it. “so i did sleep here.” he ran to his room, pushing the door open. his bed wasn’t slept in; he hadn’t slept there, but he woke up in a bed — his room dedicated to you; he b-lined out his room and down the hall to his special room. the door was wide open.

he walked into the room, it smelt like you because of the perfume he always sprayed. the pictures looking back at him as he made his way over to the bed. the bed he kept clean always, messy and unmade. pictures he took now scattered around on the bed — and the worse part , his favorite picture of you. the only picture he had that was up close of you was now on the floor stained in his cum.

he’d hallucinated the whole thing; and he almost gave his obsession with you away. he just never felt something so surreal before… which only proved that his love for you was the strongest it’s ever been; and now that you’ve invited him into your life he can now push forward into making you his. he picked the ruined picture up; his dried cum covering your smiling face — turning him on cause now he has a vision of you covered in his cum. “fuck.”

he could feel himself getting hard again. “innie?” he looked up and you were standing in the doorway with a smile on your face.

girl, you're my hallucination …

©️LUVYENI

[dovveri]

upskill from student to parent

synopsis: one of your students has the most obvious crush on you, but you have the most obvious crush on his mother.

warnings: swearing? maybe idek AHAHA

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: kind of an homage to my fav person on this app @miinatozakiii ‘s first published work the kindergarten teacher sana 🙂‍↕️ happy late one year anniversary babe 🥰

⋆✐ೀ⋆

“alright kids, don't forget i'm seeing most of your parents tonight so if you want to make a good impression, you better start doing your homework because i know most of you don't!"

there are collective groans across the classroom as they pack up their things and leave, thanking you as they head out the door to their next period.

you giggle, recalling the days you were a student in their position, you rarely did your math homework as well.

"ms. l/n?"

you look up from your desk with a smile.

"i- um- i just wanted to s-say- thank you for this lesson. i was really- um- struggling with derivatives when you introduced them last time but you made it really clear this class."

you beam, appreciating the feedback, "that's great to hear hideki! if you have any more trouble in the future please be sure to let me know, i'll be happy to set up bonus small group classes or even individual sessions if you guys need the help."

"t-thanks ms. l/n. that's really nice of you."

"it's my job hideki." you smile, "did you need any help with anything else?"

he shakes his head shyly, hand at the back of his neck, "that was all! thanks again miss!"

"no worries, i'll see you tonight?"

he agrees happily, darting out the door with his cheeks flushed.

it wasn't the first time a student had had a crush on you. it was normally harmless. some of them had tried to confess to you over the years, usually waiting until after they graduated because they thought it’d be okay if you no longer had a student-teacher relationship. some of them would confess while you were still their teacher regardless, those were a little tougher because you had to continue teaching them and watch them pout and lose motivation to do their schoolwork and act awkward around you, no longer wanting to participate in class or ask questions if they didn’t understand something. you’d try to let them down gently, and if you noticed they were struggling with coursework, you’d pull them aside or ask another one of the teachers to check in on them.

most of the time though, they were just simple little crushes that would pass with time or after they moved out of your class. you didn't entertain them but it was cute seeing your students in their awkward teen years discovering feelings for the first time.

you stretch, yawning, but yelp when someone's finger jabs into your exposed armpit.

there's a burst of laughter and you frown, staring at the intruder.

"really nayeon?"

the english teacher rolls her eyes with a cheeky grin, "saw hideki on the way out. did he give you that confession note?"

"what confession note?"

nayeon hops a little, a hand covering her mouth, "oh shit."

you narrow your eyes. "tell me."

she grins, not really apologetic for having accidentally spilt her student’s secret, "saw him decorating a card and everything in english class today. his grammar was a little off so i just helped him correct it a little. oh ms. l/n. how i wish to be able to call you by your first name. how i wish to be able to hold you and-" she puts on an exaggerated romeo-like voice and pose, back of her hand coming up to her forehead.

you stand up, slapping her lightly with a blush, "why did you encourage him?!"

she shrugs with a laugh, "i'm an english teacher. gotta make sure the kids are using the language right even if it's for illicit love notes."

you huff, packing up your desk and getting ready to go to lunch, "can't he find a nice girl his age to be in love with? i'm sure he has so many options since he's the star player of the school basketball team and everything."

"something about you attracts the kiddies y/n."

you scrunch your nose, "ew. that sounds gross. i don't even like younger men."

"women?"

"no preference. just someone in the same life stage y'know?"

"wait should i be offended? how come no student has ever confessed to me? aren't english teachers supposed to be like a gay girl's awakening?"

you laugh, ignoring the woman's question, dragging her out of your classroom and to lunch together before you both have to attend to your kids again.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

you enjoyed your job, but parent-teacher interviews were probably your least favourite part of it. if you wanted to deal with parents all day you'd have become a primary school teacher.

there were all kinds of them, some who didn't show up, some who didn't care, some who cared too much, some who were clueless, and some who thought they could do your job better than you.

you rub your temples, grateful for the little 5 minute break you're afforded in between quick 10 minute interviews that would normally go on for longer than that. you blink around the room, the other mathematics teachers gathered in the same classroom, nayeon was down the hall with the other english teachers. you were the youngest of them all, there was a pretty big shortage of secondary mathematics teachers across the country, so it meant maths teachers were putting off retirement for longer so they can continue to support kids, but it still left a lot of gaps that could be filled to give your students the best education they deserved.

you've dazed off enough that you barely register hideki almost bounding in, still in his basketball uniform from after-school practice.

he grins, sliding into the seat opposite yours, "hi ms. l/n!"

you return the smile, "hey hideki." even though you knew about his obvious crush on you, he was still one of your favourite students, maybe it was because he had the crush on you that he was more eager to follow instructions and to prove himself and ask questions whenever he was confused that made him one of the easiest to teach.

and then a woman in a sleek beige coat next to hideki catches your attention. your gaze flicks over to hers. and it can't seem to break away.

she's the most beautiful human being you've ever laid your eyes on. her hair is dyed an autumn brown, wavy locks tucked behind ears, expensive gold jewelry adorning her neck, ears, hands. her eyes match the colour of her hair, a deep fawn brown you could stare into for hours. she's got the most perfect nose you've ever seen, you almost itched to measure it, find the angle of it, the way it led to her pretty lips, full and parted, inviting, pulling you in. and then you realise they're curling up slightly, and you snap your eyes back up to hers to see a mirthful glint in them.

you cough, blushing brightly, "h-hello mrs. hayashi."

"just sana is fine. minatozaki sana. i never married hideki’s father." her voice is silky smooth, there's a certain drawl to it too, it makes you want to listen to her voice on repeat, teasing out every inflection in tone.

you can feel your blush reaching the tips of your ears, "o-oh sorry! i didn't know i apologise!"

sana laughs, it's bright and airy, you don't think you've heard anything purer. "nothing to be sorry about. we broke up a long time ago. when hideki was still very young."

you nod, deciding you can't continue staring at her or you may just faint, so you look down at your files, shuffling them around with no purpose, just to give your hands something to do.

"so how's hideki doing in class?" you can hear the smirk in her voice, her attentive eyes watching as you fumble around.

"he's um- very good- he always makes sure to ask questions whenever he's stuck on anything, and he's probably one of my only students who keeps up with his homework."

"well that's good isn't it deki? what were you so nervous for?" sana teases her son as he blushes, mumbling something under his breath.

you speak up again, "nothing to be nervous about. hideki is one of my best students, he keeps up very well despite his extra curriculars."

sana snorts, "i wish we could say the same about his other subjects. it seems maths is the only thing he tries in."

"mom!"

"what? you heard what your english teacher said. you need to spend some more time editing your own work than you do shooting hoops."

you laugh, "i'm sure his english is alright. nayeon can be a pretty harsh teacher."

sana looks at you again with an eyebrow raised, you quickly look away. "just wait until you read some of his work ms. l/n. you'll be surprised."

hideki blushes again, deciding he won't be giving you that love confession note he has in his bag after all.

"is there anything else i can do for him then? any particular areas he may be struggling in or any recommendations of what we can implement at home to make sure his maths marks stay consistent?"

"homework really. maths is a very practical subject so the more practice he gets the better grasp he'll have. especially with strange or out-of-the-box questions exams may throw at him; it helps a lot if he's practiced with as many question varieties as possible, most people are going to get those 1 or 2 markers, but the bigger questions that really need you to apply the concepts you learn are where you'll start to see distinctions between the students that just study and the students that really have the aptitude and patience for mathematics."

"never was me." sana jokes.

you smile, still avoiding her gaze, your cheeks pink, "i'm sure you would have been a prize student ms. minatozaki."

"just sana." she has a teasing smile on her face.

"r-right. sana."

it's quiet for a few seconds, hideki looks between his mother and you, squinting a little in confusion.

sana coughs, beginning to stand and holding out a hand, "well it was nice meeting you ms. l/n. i can finally understand why hideki goes on and on about his gorgeous maths teacher."

"mom!"

you blush again, taking her hand, almost melting at how soft it felt against yours, forcing yourself to meet her eyes again to be polite. you have to bring your other hand to hold your wrist when you shake it, to support your jelly-like arm in her presence. "it was nice meeting you too sana."

she tightens her grip, smirking a little, "i hope this won't be the last i'll be seeing you. have a good night."

and with that she's off, hideki whining and complaining next to her about how she's embarassed him. it was a little funny considering their height difference, hideki was a basketball player so he had to be tall for his sport, and sana was just a few centimetres shorter than you, though her aura commanded attention, her posture was perfect, you're caught staring at the slight sway in her hips as she walks away, but you quickly reprimand yourself, blushing even brighter at having realised you were just checking out your student's parent.

god she had your mind a mess, and you had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time for this to happen.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

you were so out of your comfort zone. you barely knew anything about basketball. but nayeon just had to drag you to be co-supervisors for your school's basketball team since you didn’t have the funds for a real P.E. teacher. even worse, the parent volunteer just happened to be minatozaki sana, the parent you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since your first meeting with her weeks ago.

nayeon noticed your odd behaviour immediately of course. so being the annoyingly loveable best friend she was, she made herself scarce, herding the kids away with every opportunity and trying to get you and sana alone as much as possible.

that’s how you were now stuck with the woman of your dreams, sharing a hotel room in the place you were staying for the duration of the games.

“are you sure you don’t want me to get another room? the individual room was originally supposed to be meant for you- i can’t believe nayeon let herself get sick and stole it from you.”

sana giggles, plopping down her weekend bag. “it’s alright ms. l/n. i don’t mind sharing rooms with a pretty woman like you.”

you blushed brightly. that was the other problem with sana. she was a flirt. every chance she got she’d make some sort of teasing remark on the way here, or brush a little too close than what was acceptable for friends, and you were barely even friends.

“j-just y/n is fine. i feel weird if someone my age is calling me by my last name like that.”

“how do you know i’m your age?” she smirks.

“o-oh! i just- i mean- i- i’m in my early 30s and you look quite young and but hideki is already 16 so i just assumed um-“

she laughs again, “thank you for the compliment. you’re right. i had hideki when i was 19. his dad promised to take care of him, provide for us, y’know… all the works. he couldn’t take it and left not even a year into hideki’s life. i ended up having to drop out of university and learn to balance work and a baby. my parents weren't any good either, said it was my fault for getting knocked up so early in my life and that i should've been prepared for the consequences."

you perch on the end of your bed, listening attentively while she unpacks her things, "i'm sorry you had to go through that."

she shrugs, "made me who i am today. and plus i have hideki now. and he'll always have me. what about you? any kids? partner?"

you blush as she turns back to you, copying your stance and sitting on her bed facing you. "no. i’ve always been around kids so there’s not exactly a ton of romantic prospects.” you joke.

sana laughs, “what about nayeon?”

you cringe immediately, “ew gross no. we’re just friends. there aren’t that many young teachers that aren’t already married and who aren’t spread all over the country so nayeon and i easily clicked because we’re similar in age and single. not that it’s difficult to get along with the older teachers there’s just some things that we’ll be able to do that they might not necessarily want to anymore… like drink or whatever.”

“are you looking for anyone then?” there’s a smirk on sana’s face that you know can only mean she’s up to no good.

“u-um- well- i mean- uh- like if it comes it comes i’m not actively looking for it. i’m happy with the kids even if i die old and alone because there’s always going to be more kids to teach so i’m never really going to be alone unless i quit or get fired.”

“i really admire teachers y’know. you can take care of a classroom of kids and offer them knowledge when someone like my ex boyfriend couldn’t even handle one child.”

while you were talking, you didn’t even notice that sana had moved onto your bed, sitting next to you, shoulders touching, eyes peering into yours.

you chuckle awkwardly, “w-well i’m actually not that great with younger kids.”

sana frowns, “don’t do that. bringing yourself down to defend a shitty man are both things i don’t want to hear. from what i’ve seen, you love your job and you really care about your kids. you should be proud of that. teachers don’t get enough of the appreciation they should.”

“t-thank you sana.”

“of course.”

it’s quiet after that, and more than awkward. you have no idea where to look, suddenly conscious of her body pressed against yours, fiddling with your hands, feeling sweat build up.

sana just watches you with a glint in her eye, observing all of your actions.

she breaks the tension that seemingly came out of nowhere first, “how do you feel about me?”

your eyes widen, not expecting such a straightforward question, “s-sorry?”

“you’re nervous. do i make you nervous y/n?”

your blush was pretty much permanently fixed on your face now.

“u-um-“

“it’s okay if i do. i just hope it's for the right reasons." she pouts. it's criminal. "you'd tell me if there was something else right?"

"r-right! yes of course yes-"

"good. so you're nervous because you find me attractive?" her pout morphs into a smirk within nanoseconds.

"um- i-"

"you said you'd tell me if it was something else remember?" and then she's straight back into a pout. it was giving you whiplash, the change in expressions, dizzying you.

"um- i- yes- you are- yes you are very pretty and-"

"so you want to kiss me?"

"um-!"

sana finally lets you go, laughing brightly and moving away to give you some space before you burst or melted.

"just joking y/n. i'm sorry you're just too easy to tease and your reactions are adorable!"

you can breathe again, the oxygen finally reaching your brain now that sana wasn't so close to you, and your lips turn downward, imitating her pout from earlier, "sana!"

she continues laughing, going back to unpacking her things while you collect yourself and think just how you were going to survive the two days away sharing a room with the potential love of your life who also happened to be a massive tease.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

thankfully, the rest of the night was pretty uneventful. you checked in on all the boys, made sure they had all had dinner and weren't planning anything irresponsible like a party behind your backs or anything. you also checked in on nayeon who in your professional opinion, looked absolutely fine, having ordered room service and was in one of the hotel robes with her feet kicked up enjoying a face mask and a bottle of wine all to herself.

sana also didn't try anything else when you retired to your own hotel room after doing the rounds on the boys' rooms again to make sure they were all in bed and getting the rest they needed before their game tomorrow. you're not sure if you were grateful or disappointed she didn't, but you quickly pushed her out of your mind, needing to rest as well before having to wake up early to take all the kids to the stadium.

you're knocking loudly on the last room you were meant to check on, annoyed the boys were taking so long, you were all meant to meet in the lobby 10 minutes ago for your bus to the stadium.

when you sigh, prepared to rap your knuckles against the door again, it falls away, revealing a distressed hideki and his roommate for the trip.

"ms. l/n! i'm so sorry we're late eric had some trouble um-" he looks behind him, "we're pretty much ready now! just got to grab some last minute stuff and-" he leaves the door open, continuing his ramble while you cross your arms, tapping your foot impatiently, watching the boys run around the room collecting last minute things and throwing them into gym bags.

by the time they're almost done, sana's snuck up behind you, peeking over your shoulder.

"deki! what are you doing? are you the one holding everyone up? what kind of example are you setting for your team if the team captain's late?"

you jump at her voice, not having noticed her standing right behind you. you turn, admiring her side profile, she's got her hair up today, but still looks as expensive as the first time you saw her.

hideki blushes at his mom yelling at him, picking up his pace a little and jabbing eric, telling him to hurry up.

sana notices you staring at her and turns with a smile, "hi y/n. missed you this morning."

you fluster immediately, snapping your eyes away, "u-um sorry! i uh- got up early and didn't want to wake you and decided to get breakfast early on my own before making sure all the kids were awake."

she pouts, "you should've woken me. we could've had breakfast together."

"s-sorry i'll remember for next time."

"next time? you planning on waking up next to me again y/n?"

you can hear the teasing tone in her voice without needing to look at her, "i meant tomorrow! tomorrow morning."

sana giggles next to your ear, relenting when hideki and eric finally finish up, slightly out of breath when they come up to you, hideki apologising to you profusely, almost bowing down in the hotel hallway while holding all his heavy gym bags before you stop him, embarrassed enough by his mother watching the interaction closely with a curious glint in her eyes.

by the time you get downstairs nayeon already has most of the kids on the bus, reprimanding the two late boys again before letting them go and telling them to get on the bus as well. she had claimed her sickness was miraculously cured overnight, and that all she needed was a good night's sleep in a hotel room by herself.

she had teased both you and sana, asking sana innocently if she'd want to change rooms again now that she wasn't sick, but sana had said it'd be too much work and she didn't mind sharing a room with you anyway. nayeon elbowed you making an exaggerated show of her eyebrows wriggling around when sana wasn't looking, winking and looking all too satisfied with herself. you ignored her, strutting ahead and onto the bus, crossing your arms and pouting.

sana comes up next, giggling at you and plopping down on the seat next to yours. thankfully, the bus ride to the stadium wouldn't take long this time, the ride here was almost 5 hours long, and sana had taken a liking to sleeping on your shoulder almost the entire way there. you were stiff and couldn't wait to fall into bed when nayeon pulled her sick move and ruined your plans of being able to relax, not possible in the presence of the other woman.

the kids are rowdy and energetic, hyping each other up on the bus. you have to tell them to quieten down a few times but you let them get away with most of what they do, smiling at the sight of them so eager for their game.

when you arrive, nayeon's the first to stand, using her loud voice and commanding attention, her voice that should've been at least a little hoarse from her apparent sickness yesterday.

"alright! remember you're representing your school district now! and you're sharing this space with other people so i don't want to hear you guys as loud as you were on this bus okay? i won't hesitate to bench anyone who fools around too much and that means you won't get to play and you'd have come all this way for nothing understand?"

nayeon really was strict as a teacher, but you knew she loved her job as much as you did.

the kids nod, determined to be good, adrenaline running from the excitement of almost getting to the court.

you step off the bus first, talking to the bus driver and letting them know when they can come back and pick you guys up to go back to the hotel. then the kids are hopping off the bus one by one, and you're making sure they don't run off or do anything stupid while waiting for everyone to assemble.

by the time the team is actually on the court and warming up, you're almost as excited as them, the atmosphere of the stadium hyping you up, sitting on the sidelines with towels and water bottles ready for their breaks. you had tried to study up a little on what exactly went on in basketball, the rules and the basics, the kids may not have a coach but you still wanted to be as supportive as you could even though your job only required you to supervise them safely between the venues and the hotel.

"have you come to a lot of these games?" you ask sana mindlessly, watching as the boys start doing practice shots and drills.

"yeah. i try to go to as many of deki's things as i can."

"that's very sweet. it's really good for the kids, when the parents show up to things they work hard for."

sana hums. "i try."

"he's lucky to have you."

"i think he may appreciate you a little more though." she teases, bumping shoulders with you.

you laugh, "he'll get over it. they all do."

"this has happened before?"

you shrug, "i swear i don't do anything out of the ordinary. maybe i'm just nicer than nayeon."

"so your type obviously isn't kids. what is it?" sana teases.

you blush, "i don't know. i don't really have one i think."

"oh come on. everyone says that. tell me the truth. i won't judge i promise."

you roll your eyes, smiling, "well... i think at this point in my life i just want someone who wants to settle down. i'm not that young anymore and i've already achieved what i wanted in my career so all i really want now is someone to share the rest of my life with."

"boring! c'mon gimme the juicy stuff. like personality, physical attributes." she pokes you with a grin on her face as well.

"fine fine. i guess when it comes to women i tend to like slightly older women, extroverted, good with kids obviously, i don't reaaaally care for all the physical stuff but probably someone around my height i guess."

"stand up for me."

you do as she asks, confused, then she stands up as well, stepping in almost eye-to-eye. you flush immediately. she brings her hand to measure the top of her head, knocking it against your forehead.

then she smirks, "so i'm pretty much your type then?"

you stutter, falling backwards and back into your seat, mumbling incoherently. sana giggles, sitting back down as well.

"if it's any consolation, my type in women tends to be slightly taller, good with kids, a little awkward, gets flustered easily, but loves her job."

you blink at her, still processing her words when the buzzer sounds signaling the start of the game.

sana winks, then turns her attention to the game, cheering on your school's team as they get in starting position. nayeon jogs over to join you both on the sideline bench, cheering as well. you put your muddled thoughts aside to focus on being there for the kids, but sana's confession? was it even a confession? never left the back of your mind.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

your school won. the boys are ecstatic, clapping each other on the back, streamers are thrown, the crowd is wild, loving the game they witnessed.

eventually, the stadium clears out while the boys cooldown. the janitors come and kick everyone off the floor soon enough, the kids still whooping and parading around their championship trophy, taking pictures with smiles all around.

you smile fondly as well, watching them leave the stadium, so proud of themselves. but then there's a cough behind you, and you turn, surprised to see hideki still there, not leading his team off on their victory lap.

"you okay hideki?"

the boy blushes, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, still in his team uniform, sweat running down his body.

"i um- i was actually wondering if we could talk?"

you frown, immediately concerned, "yeah of course. what's up?"

his eyes flit around, making sure the stadium is pretty much empty except for the janitors cleaning up after the game. and then he looks back at you, you're struck then how much he looks like sana, he has her nose, her eyes, you never noticed before but after spending more time with sana, you can start to see parts of her in her son.

he clears his throat again, obviously nervous, wringing his hands out, "u-um- so i promised myself that if we won this game, i'd finally be truthful to both myself and you. so um- ms. l/n... i think i'm in love with you!" he bows deeply with his confession.

you stand there, slightly in shock despite knowing about his feelings for a long time now. and then you feel terrible, having to reject him on what was supposed to be one of the highlights of his high school experience.

you tap his shoulder lightly, non-verbally asking him to straighten up, he flinches at the touch, eyes fierce when they meet yours.

"hideki... i'm sorry. i don't feel the same way about you. you're my student, i care about all of you equally, but never as more than a student."

his face breaks your heart, you see sana in him, it's almost like you made sana cry.

"is it my age? what if i graduated? would you be interested in me after i graduated?" he's desperate, reaching for any possibility where you could return his feelings.

you shake your head, offering a gentle smile, "i'm sorry hideki. i know you'll find the right person for you one day though. that person just isn't going to be me."

his head droops down, hair coming to cover his eyes as he stares down at his shoes, trying to hide his tears. "i understand. thank you for taking the time to listen to me ms. l/n. i'll get out of your hair now." and then he's jogging off behind you towards the exit.

you sigh, turning around, surprised to see sana there, frowning when she sees hideki in tears approaching her.

she looks between him and you in confusion, but hideki reaches her first. she cups his face, asking him what happened, but he refuses to speak, and sana brings him down into her hugging him and patting his back.

she glances at you then, still frowning. your heart sinks, not sure what sorts of conclusions she could be drawing, but knowing right now, it looked like you had said or done something that made her son cry.

she leads him away, you ache to tell her what really happened, but you know you should keep your distance for the sake of your student right now, you just pray sana doesn't think of you any differently.

⋆✐ೀ⋆

the rest of the day goes by in a blur. the boys go out for celebratory dinner. they notice their captain is a lot more down than usual, and they try cheering him up, playing games at dinner, laughing and teasing each other, but nothing seems to be working.

you couldn't help but feel a little guilty, and sana hadn't spoken to you since the game. you're not sure if it's on purpose or if she's just busy keeping the kids entertained and checking on hideki every once in a while, but not wanting to smother him with all his friends around. he doesn't seem to mind though, in fact he only responds to sana, even when his friends try and include him he stays quiet, picking at his food aimlessly.

when you get back to the hotel, you give a speech about how they shouldn't sleep too late even though you could understand their excitement still remaining from winning the championships, they still had to get up early tomorrow so you could take the bus back home. nayeon would normally give the speech since she was a little more threatening than you, but she was also currently wasted, having gone a little too hard on the celebrations with the boys. she was currently leaning on you, almost dozing off as you rattled off instructions and rules before sending them all off to their rooms.

sana's gone with them before you can speak to her, so you sigh, wrapping an arm around nayeon's waist and helping your friend back to her own room, setting her in bed and pulling the covers up, turning off the lights and leaving a cup of water next to her bedside for when she wakes up later.

you feel nervous going back to your own room, unsure of what sana thinks of you now.

you open the door, almost grateful to hear the shower on, indicating the other woman was cleaning herself up.

you anxiously start packing your things up, cleaning around the room a little and grabbing clothes for your shower.

the shower turns off and your heart rate increases tenfold. you still have some time before she comes out though, so you continue to busy yourself, cleaning anything and everything.

"y/n?"

you turn quickly at her voice, almost fainting at the sight of her wrapped only in a towel. you yelp, turning back around just as quickly, "s-sorry!"

sana giggles, padding up to her bed, "it's okay. i left my clothes out here."

you can hear the rustle of her towel being dropped and her starting to dress yourself. your face is burning up, trying desperately to clear your mind of thoughts of a very naked sana standing right behind you, probably watching you make a fool out of yourself.

"i'm dressed." she teases, plopping down onto her bed.

you turn with a sigh, but tense up when you realise her definition of dressed was a very thin camisole and shorts that really shouldn't be considered shorts.

sana smirks at your gaze, crossing her legs and watching the way your eyes follow the movement, drinking in the skin.

"so what happened with you and deki?"

your eyes snap back up to hers at the reminder, the guilt of it all coming back.

"i'm sorry- i didn't- i hope you know i didn't mean to-"

sana giggles, grabbing the towel to start drying her hair, "relax y/n. i figured as much. he wouldn't tell me what happened but i assume it had something to do with his feelings for you?"

you gulp, nodding, not trusting your voice.

"like you said at the game, he'll get over it."

"you're not mad at me?"

she frowns, "why would i be mad at you?"

"well i- i thought you were avoiding me at dinner and- i mean i did just reject your son-"

sana lets out a loud laugh, "i think i'd be more mad if you didn't reject him. and i wasn't avoiding you. were you looking for my attention y/n?" she teases, wringing out her hair.

"oh. i'm glad then. that you weren't avoiding me. i was worried." you mumble, ignoring her question, knowing she was just trying to get a reaction out of you.

she stands up, brushing her hair behind her shoulders, walking up to you slowly. "why were you worried?"

you focus on a spot on the hotel carpet, avoiding her gaze, "i didn't want you to think i was- i don't know- i just didn't want you to think of me differently i guess."

"why do you care what i think of you?"

you blush, "well- i mean- i- you're- you're a parent of my student."

sana hums, still moving closer at a painfully slow pace, "is that all i am to you?"

"uh- well- no... you're um- you're sana."

she giggles, now toe-to-toe with you. "i am."

you almost let out a gasp when her cool fingers touch your chin, tilting your head up slightly to look her in the eyes. her eyes search yours, then they move over your face, tracing your features. you lick your lips unconsciously, the tension between the two of you unable to be explained by a simple parent-teacher relationship, or even a friendship anymore.

"it's funny." her voice is lower now, spoken right onto your lips, there was no need for volume, you were only inches apart. "i almost wonder if my ex would've fallen for you too."

you're dizzy from being so close to her, mind playing catch up. "t-too?"

"yeah. hideki fell for you. i wonder if you could just have my whole family wrapped around your finger."

you gulp, not really following, just letting her do whatever she wanted to you.

she leans in even closer, eyes dropping to your lips.

"what about me?"

"w-what about you?"

"you rejected deki. how about me?"

you inhale shakily, "are you confessing?"

she smiles then, "was it not obvious?"

"no." you breathe out.

"why not?"

"you're too- you're unbelievable."

"what does that mean?"

"i literally can't believe you're real. that someone as perfect as you could exist."

sana giggles lowly at that, "there it is. do you know how long i've been waiting for you to just say how you feel about me?"

"w-what?"

"all that teasing, all the flirting, i paid nayeon to fake sick y'know?"

"you what?!"

she throws her head back, laughing fully now. your eyes follow the lines of her throat.

"deki talked about you all the time at home. i was curious to meet the maths teacher he was so obsessed with. and then i did. and you were just so adorable. i could tell you really loved what you were doing, and you really cared for all the kids. but i didn't want to ask you out in front of my son who has the biggest most obvious crush on you. so i resigned myself to thinking i probably wouldn't be able to see you again. and then you happened to be on this trip. so i tried everything i could to get closer to you, get to know you better, and you didn't disappoint. i can safely say i'm just as obsessed with you as hideki is, dare i say even more."

"y-you are?"

"mhm. and i knew you liked me too. you're almost as obvious as deki is." she giggles, "i was just waiting for you to do something about it. but you're too nice aren't you? didn't want anything that could be between us to affect your job and your relationship with the kids."

you hadn't even noticed sana had paid so much attention to you. she had picked you apart completely, you felt so exposed in front of her now, but it wasn't unwelcome, you were just embarrassed at the way you've acted around her, thinking how many times you've replied dumbly or said something stupid while she knew you had a crush on her. you cringe at the memories.

sana laughs again, poking at the scrunch in your nose, "so can you say it officially now?"

"say what?"

"don't play dumb with me. you know."

you whine, blushing still, but close your eyes, taking a breath again, "i like you sana. i think you're the most beautiful person i've ever seen and your personality and actions are just as consistent with your looks."

sana giggles again, and then all of a sudden, her lips are pressed against yours.

it's soft, sweet, she's curling a hand around your waist and the other around your neck. you weren't the greatest with words, that's why nayeon was the english teacher, but you try make up for it with your actions, pulling her into you deeper and wrapping your arms around her, smiling into the kiss.

sana returns the smile, reattaching your lips, kissing you easily, your lips slotting together with no rush, taking as much time as you wanted to explore each other.

that night, when you come out of your shower, you find sana curled up in your bed, patting the empty space next to her for you to squeeze into, making sure she had enough space so that she wouldn't fall off the edge. you find that she's a big cuddler, not that it should've surprised you, she was always a very physically affectionate person, and you were still getting used to being on the receiving end of all of it, but you adored it.

the next morning, you'll keep to your promise and wake sana up with a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing her hair out of her face and studying her sleeping features carefully, committing everything to memory, still in slight disbelief that such a woman felt the same way you did.

you talk over breakfast, finding yourself much more at ease now that you knew she knew how you felt about her. she still takes every opportunity to tease you though, loving the way you blushed and stuttered around her.

what's hard is deciding what to do after you get home. you still wanted to keep your distance from hideki so that he could get over you, and sana agreed, saying it would be best if the both of you kept your relationship a secret for now. she was almost excited, talking about how it would be exciting and fun to sneak around like kids again, having to hide your relationship.

she's right of course, but being with her specifically probably makes it ten times harder than it normally would. she'd come to your school with bunches of flowers and lunch, acting innocent and surprised when you have to hide her and find an empty classroom for you to spend the lunch date she springs on you. she'll never stop loving to tease you.

you finally tell hideki about 2 months into your relationship. he seems to take it okay, but when you're curled up in sana's bed later, she tells you he complained to her about how she 'stole his woman', and you both end up in a giggling fit, laughing at the turn of events. regardless, you're still grateful, grateful you were able to meet her, and somehow bewitch her into falling for you. you were the luckiest person alive, and only sana would disagree, saying that was only true for herself.

[kenananamin]

Where did Nanami go?

a small collection of events where the people around nanami wonder if he's been abducted by aliens where they switched his brain after seeing how different he is with you (but they love it and keep hoping to see more) fluff, nanami being the best boyfriend, fluff literally just typed this all in one go and did not edit. lol enjoy!

nanami is the 'i'm not reading all that, im happy for you or im sorry that happened' person to gojo. but you send one long long message to nanami and gojo glaces to nanami's phone and just sees his whole screen covered in one long blue bubble. he asks if you're ok or if he needs to step away to call you but all nanami says is no and starts reading the message. gojo sees nanami read a bit, then types a small reply, presses enter for the next line, reads some more, then another small reply, and repeat. is he replying to every single sentence in your message?!

gojo gets curious so he leans a bit closer to actually see the message. it was not an emergency... but your review and interpretation of the 2009 movie Mother?!

gojo leans back shocked. nanami would never reply to such long messages he'd send. if the message was longer than 4 lines, then nanami might never even reply to it. but he's carefully reading your message as if it was the latest report that would be the difference between life and death in the next fight. he's replying to every single point you're making and are those emojis?!

gojo is floored, truly baffled and entirely speechless.

gojo wonders, what movie can i watch that might interest nanami and get him to reply to me in a message longer than a sentence?

———

gojo and itadori walk out of the school with nanami. it's time for nanami to clock out but gojo and itadori are heading out to try a new restaurant that evening. nanami gets a call at 6:01pm while he's still walking with them and stays back a few steps to answer your call. nosy gojo perks up his ear to listen if nanami's voice changes when he answers your call. it's not too different but gojo swears it did change a bit as if there was a little smile on his face. there was.

you ask nanami if he'd like to join you for dinner at a restaurant after work and nanami just asks for the address and says he's on his way. he excuses himself from the guys and gojo wiggles his eyebrows as nanami says he's got somewhere to be. yuji continues to talk about the last movie he saw that he loved but megumi kept rolling his eyes at.

gojo and yuji get to the restaurant after their leisurely walk and see nanami - wait! nanami setting the table?! they're both shocked bc even though their steps were unhurried, it's not like they took a long time to get to the place. you walk into the restaurant and spot nanami wiping what would be your side of the table with his hand, wiping anything that might have been missed by the cleaning cloth.

"kento!" you smile and jog to the table. he looks up and smiles when he sees you, but the smile drops when he spots the open mouthed gojo and yuji you just passed by. you stop walking and turn to see who or what he's looking at.

gojo snaps out of it and goes to introduce himself to you before leading the group of three to the table that nanami is now standing next to. he had heard about you because he pestered nanami enough to tell him about your existence and your name, and that's really all gojo knew. he asks nanami how he got to the restaurant so quick and nanami blandly replies that you work nearby and he wanted to get there first aka he lightly jogged but gojo didn't need to know that.

nanami was kind of expecting it but it still surprised him a bit when you extend a courteous invitation to gojo and yuji if they'd like to join you both for dinner. what was not a surprise was that gojo immediately sat down. yuji hesitates a bit but you tell the young man to sit and assure it's ok. nanami sighs but decides to just roll with it and goes to slide out your chair so you can sit. gojo and yuji give a quiet 'ooooohh' to the action and nanami just shushes them and sits next to you.

nanami is stiff at first and you notice so you slide your hand to hold his under the table. gojo notices the action though and feels like giggling and kicking his feet for his friend. it still takes a while for nanami to relax a bit but he eventually slumps a bit in his seat and smiles a lot easier after a few drinks w you. gojo and yuji stick to their sodas and nanami is happy to order wine for you both.

gojo and yuji make easy conversation and everyone genuinely has a nice dinner. nanami is ready to say bye to the guys as you finish a conversation with yuji about a show. gojo and yuji excitedly watch you both walk away as nanami keeps a hand on your lower back to lead you down the street then moves to hold your hand. they start giggling out loud, a little too loud, when you step even closer to hold his arm with your other hand and lean your head on his shoulder as you walk back home.

———

yuji excitedly goes to nanami to ask if he can join you guys after work. nanami is confused but yuji tells him to check his phone. you had asked if he wanted to visit an ice cream parlor and bakery with you and that you had asked yuji for the name since he brought up the place at dinner.

“we were talking about the show hannibal and she recommended a movie if i liked that show so i did the same and recommended something. she said she'd let me know what she thought the next time she saw me but i didn't know when that'd be and i think she read my mind so we exchanged emails,” yuji rambles nonchalantly about exchanging information with his girlfriend.

"nanamin, i thought you didn't like sweets?" nanami confirms that he does not care for them but you like them and he always finds another bread or alternative to eat as you eat your sugar-filled dessert.

yuji gives a thumbs up and that the man has his respect. nanami tries to ignore the comment… but the compliment feels nice. what didn’t feel so nice was two other kids attaching themselves to yuji and nanami for the ice cream.

he gets in the car and looks back at nobara, yuji, and megumi through the rearview mirror and hopes you don’t mind these kids attaching themselves like leeches on your date. and you don’t mind, it was nice to finally meet some of the people he’s talk so much about and you liked hearing new stories about him.

you’re getting a couple samples and pass them to nanami once you’ve tasted a bit. he wouldn’t get a full ice cream for himself but he could do samples... and indirect kisses. you read his mind (bc you were thinking the same) and try to flirt and raise your eyebrows at nanami seductively but shy away and start to laugh instead. nanami know what you were trying to do yet again and he finds it endearing every time you do it. he pulls you in from your waist and leans down to kiss your bare shoulder thinking the kids are too busy looking for their own desserts to notice. they were not busy, they were looking and saw it all.

the kids are shocked, nobara is taking notes bc she wants that romantic gesture, yuji wants to cheer him on, and megumi's eyes widen but he wonders just how long nanami's been hiding this side of himiself. all in all, all three kids want to see this side more and start planning ways to go out with you both again.

———

nobara and maki go shopping for some spring clothes and as nobara is talking about a store she saw while maki got an iced coffee she stops in her tracks. nanami is inside the store they were about to pass and he's standing as still as a statue... holding a couple shopping bags in one hand and a purse on his shoulder. maki follows nobara's gaze and chuckles but prepares to walk away. nobara grabs her arm and pulls her into the store but hides behind a rack to keep watching nanami.

you come out of the dressing room in the perfect little black dress and nobara and maki can't help but stare in appreciation and awe. they were impressed by how you looked but even more impressed when nanami took out his phone and took a picture. even from afar, they could tell it was a damn good picture and that that man knew your angles.

———

gojo wants to go to a club. he knows nanami will say no straight up so he starts the conversation with, "hey you know what y/n might like?" gojo tries to sell the club the best he can but nanami just says ok and walks away.

gojo texts nanami later that night to ask (plead) him if he'd want to go and all nanami says is that you both will meet him there. gojo hums as he gets ready and arrives to the club. he sees you and nanami walk into the dark and loud room but immediately notices nanami's black button-up that has the top few buttons opened and no tie, and your little black dress. it's shorter (and honestly sexier) than what gojo imagined you'd wear in an outing with nanami but he has to admit that his pair of friends were a damn wonder to look at. he discreetly takes a photo of you two and sends it to nanami. it becomes nanami's favorite photo.

gojo compliments both of you and you thank him saying you had told nanami he'd look great with that simple button-up and gojo agrees. nanami blushes a bit at your compliment. gojo asks about your dress and you laugh recalling when you were getting ready. you had asked nanami if you could wear the dress since you weren't sure if it was too short and he just nodded and basically said 'dress slutty, i can fight' (not in those exact words but that's how you registered it and you fell even more in love with the man). nanami really did not care about what you wore, he would definitely voice if something was not appropriate but he has not said anything about any of your clothes since you've met. gojo couldn't even laugh at nanami's response to your question, he was impressed and turns to nanami to give a thumbs up (and writes that down to use later).

———

all the students sit with nanami and gojo in the cafeteria. they're sitting around waiting for their meal after their mission when nanami remembers that he promised to call you after he was done. he had accidentally let it slip that the mission seemed dangerous and you asked if he could spare a moment after the mission to call or text you to make sure he was fine.

he excuses himself and gojo faintly hears your voice before his friend fully walks out of the cafeteria for his call. immediately after nanami leaves, the students huddle closer to the table and start talking about you. gojo is kind of shocked by the student's reactions but they all look at him and in their own way talk about how much they like you for nanami. a cold and serious man has the embodiment of bubblegum on his arm and they loved it. gojo joins his giggling students and nanami waits a moment outside the cafeteria door to listen to his team rave about you before walking back in with a light blush on his cheeks.

[applejuicebegood]

Jason Showing his Love for You

Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Sharing. Sharing his jackets, his cologne, his food - he loves sharing the intimate material aspects of his life. You'll mention being thirsty whilst you guys are walking through the park and he's already uncapping his water bottle for you. You complain to him that your workplace doesn't have proper heating for the winter month and he's already packing one of his hoodies and some hand-warmers in your bag.

Big 'Act's of service' kinda guy. Adores making you dinner and memorising your favourite recipes (you have bought him this red apron from the local farmers market with a robin feather on the front pocket and he immediately asked you if he could have your ring size). Has a small box under the stove of both of your favourite meals written on small cue cards.

Carries your bags if you're out shopping or if he's walking you home from work.

If you're feeling tense or overly exhausted, he always offers a massage. He finds it that much more intimate and loving. To dip and press his fingers into the knots tightening your soft flesh and to hear your groan and sigh in relief, it's a reminder to him that his body doesn't always have to be used for violence and the installation of fear. It can be used as a source of comfort and release - as evident when you pull him down against your chest, after he's put away the lotion, to lay on top of you like a big weighted blanket.

He'll take pictures of flowers and sunsets over water and send them to you randomly throughout the week with the fallow up text being something like 'reminded me of you' 'it looked like your eye-colour'.

Besides that, his camera roll is mostly just you. Pictures of you asleep on his chest or in the middle of the biggest fit of laughter. He's got a few polaroids stashed in his wallet of you that he pulls out on week-long missions with his brothers. To remind himself that he's got something to get back to.

He'll always tie your shoes if the laces come undone or helps you stand up in heels. He's always worried about you if the two of you are at one of his Dad's galla's (for many reasons not included) and your in heels - because he knows how painful it can get. Once you guys get back to your house, he would sweep you into his arms after you've kicked off your heels just so you wouldn't have to stand and stumble for a second longer.

Helps take off your jewelry and makeup as you help him out of his suite.

Listens to your playlists and favourite albums so that you guys can sing along together during late night baking attempts.

You guys have a shared record collection that you started when for your anniversary you got him a record player. He likes to be supper corny some nights and dance with you as one of your favourite albums plays.

He'll be very casual about how extraordinary he treats you. He considers it expected instead of the exception. Because you were able to love him back to life, so why shouldn't you deserve only the best from him?

[maiamore]

PASS THE SALT, MR MILLER

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak Rating: 18+ | W/C: 4.5k

Summary: Joel finds out the hard way that leaving a pretty girl with blue-balls isn’t the smartest.

Or, Joel fucks you in his garage.

Tags: christmas-y vibes, fucking on Joel’s car, implied age gap,unprotected p in v, grumpy!joel, lots of yearning, squirting, sexual games, brat taming, outdoor sex, creampie

A/N: merry christmas folks! tbh this is just a game of how many fics can I write that has to do with (a) joel's truck or (b) joel yearning. side note, looped Disease - Lady Gaga track on repeat while writing this oops

MASTERLIST | MAIN STORY

Holidays have never really been something you celebrated. Fuck it, your own birthday even. It just wasn’t a priority you considered worth fussing over. Admittedly, your lack of enthusiasm for these events was probably why you ended up avoiding them. You would do the most for the people you loved but never for yourself.

Take Halloween for example. Your friends from Columbia were begging you for a slutty girls' night out, but you’d opted to stay home to help chaperone your younger brother Oscar’s party. Even so far as to set everything up, you’d made sure Oscar had a shot at being the coolest damn guy in his school. Fret not, jobless big sis is there to help ya. 

Of course, it hadn’t gone unrewarded, to put it loosely. All that really happened was some broody hot middle-aged dad jerking off in front of your face. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You found yourself staring at the pale green piece of paper your younger brother, Oscar,  handed you when he came home from school that evening. Eyeing the morbidly cliche design that screamed of some bored old receptionists' handiwork, you tilt it to get a better read.

Oak Ridge High School Annual Christmas Potluck.

Great. Another one. You were often the stand-in for his PTA Meetings in place of your ever so busy parents. While you had your fun with the free buffets and whatnot, you were getting tired of people asking how old you were when you “had” Oscar. 

*Calling all Parent Volunteers. Please Contact Joel Miller at +1 (512) 555 XXX for details. 

Now that got your attention.

Joel Miller. The man who, after that night, weaseled his way into your glorious collection of mental spank bank. Evident in the plethora of stolen nudie mags your mom stashed underneath her mattress—you’d gone as far to dog-ear pages of men who had the slightest resemblance to him. 

You couldn’t get him out of your mind. By him, his dick. All eight fuckin’ inches of pent-up old man dick. 

The desperation in the way he thumbed his slit, coaxing his milky cum into your waiting mouth in your bedroom flashed in your mind like post-traumatic-sex-disorder. You were robbed of a good fuck.

The beeps of your dial-pad echoed embarrassingly loud while you dialled the number on the flyer before fully seeing the idiocy in this move. The line connects after a few rings. 

“Miller. Who’s callin’?”

A shudder runs down your spine. His voice hit you like a freight train, low and gravelly, cutting through the faint clatter of what sounded like construction work on the other end.

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Hang up. Hang–

“Hi.” You blurt out, forcing a higher register in your voice in a desperate attempt to disguise yourself. “I’d like to register. For the Christmas…thing.” There was a pause, followed by the clunk of something heavy and the sound of boots against a hard floor. 

“Right. You’re the parent of…?” 

You clutched your phone tighter when Joel’s voice rang clearer than ever, throat dry as you scrambled to speak. “Oscar.”

He repeats your last name when you offer it, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to place it–a flicker of recognition almost.

“Alright then,” he finally says, the faintest edge of suspicion still lingering.

 “Guess I’ll see ya there.”

—

Impulsiveness was something that fucked Joel over most times. 

Messing around with someone he’d consider uncomfortably closer to his daughter's age than his own settled within him like poison. 

It’d been two whole months since the incident at halloween and he was still hung up over you. He was certain that a pretty girl like you had far better prospects than a washed up crotchety shit like him. 

You plagued his mind every time his fist wrapped around his cock. Every time he’d tried to fuck the stress of working long hours of grunt work at the site. Your soft and sweet expression offered him instantaneous, sticky reprieve. 

Guilt, or something he should’ve been feeling over using your face as masturbation material didn’t quite blare the alarms in his head through post-nut clarities. 

He knew he had fucked up the second he had you on your knees that night. 

You parked your sedan in front of a navy chevrolet in the driveway. Hopping out of the car as you looked up at the quaint home, clean white siding, neatly trimmed lawn. 

You figured by the bustling noise from the backyard that a volunteer offered up their home and all. Generous, you thought. And then you catch it. The worn down navy mailbox that sprawled the letters–

M I L L E R

The swirl that was now your mind dragged painful throbs in your head. To be in his own backyard felt stalker-ish even for you. 

With a weary exhale, you click open the boot of your car. Worrying had to come later, you had to formulate a game plan for the boxes of fairy lights you somehow had to haul into Joel’s backyard.

With a heaving effort, you propped up two boxes into your arms when the shuffle of footsteps catches your attention, coming from beside the opening garage. 

“Hey! Sorry, could use a little help...” You call out instinctively. 

Only managing to catch a glimpse of a hand bracing against the rickety garage door to shove it all the way up with a loud metallic clang. 

The sound startles you, but not as much as the sight when one of the boxes lifts from your hold, revealing your apparent savior.

The both of you pause, staring at each other in slight shock. Well–for him at least. You had ulterior motives that came delivered to you all wrapped up in worn-out denim.

Joel’s expression was less than welcoming, which in his defense—he wasn’t quite expecting to see his ghost in his own yard. 

“What are you doin’ here?”

The curtness of his voice throws you, but it’s too late to think of turning tail and driving off.

“I’m…one of the volunteers.”

“Sweetheart,” Joel begins, lifting the last box out of your arms like they weighed nothing. “You signin’ up under your mama’s name just to come sniffin’ round’ me? That it?”

“What? No. She couldn’t make it,” you shoot back, a little too quick, a little too defensive. Joel wasn’t buying it, his unimpressed stare making you shift on your feet.

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, already stepping over to your car. With a grunt, he hefted another box from your trunk, the effort drawing a low sound from his chest. 

The bitterness (and arousal) pools in your mouth at the noise he makes. 

Yes. You’d admit. You sniffed out Joel’s trail like some stray, chasing after the smallest crumb of him. It wasn’t irrational for you to think that you deserved some sort of closure. 

His voice cuts clean through your spiraling thoughts. “If you’re expectin’ somethin’, you best stop right there. I ain’t messin’ around.” You grimaced, fumbling for words. 

“I’m just here to help—” 

“S’enough outta you. Stay out of trouble.” He interrupts, not quite looking at you. 

Joel wills himself to flick his gaze anywhere but at you, one look at your face was enough to remind him of the fact, one look was probably enough to pop a damn boner. He sets the boxes down by the patio, knees cracking as he stretches back up with a grunt.

“Get someone to hang ‘em up. ‘Cause clearly,” he says, eyeing your sweater and skirt, “you ain’t dressed to actually help.”

He gives you a short, dismissive nod before turning away, leaving you standing there. Warmth pools your cheeks, feeling foolish to have gone this far for the attention of a man who made it clear that he didn’t seem to give a fuck whether you were here or not.

—

Joel spends the better half of the afternoon hovering around you. 

Approaching you normally was out of the question now that Sarah and the other kids began to flitter into his backyard to help with preparation. His daughter’s presence acted like a highly effective cock-block. Not that he had any business entertaining those kinds of thoughts in the first place.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Risky didn’t begin to describe it, so he kept his distance. That resolve went straight out the window when he spotted you, half-balanced on a ladder, hanging Christmas lights along the edge of his roof. With candy cane printed panties peeking out from under your skirt—god almighty, Joel nearly doubled over.

You could feel Joel's eyes on you while attempting to hang the lights over the siding. Purposefully going against what he said, purposefully giving everyone a goddamn show. 

"You ever learn how to listen?" 

“I can do it myself.” You shot back. Coyly soothing the back of your skirt. A proper fuck you to him at his insinuation that you’d been here just to man-trap him. Not that the notion did much. 

You felt the ladder steady with Joel’s hold. Effectively blocking everyone else from seeing what you were flaunting. 

"For the love of christ, darlin’, get down." 

“For the love of christ, I’m almost fuckin’ done.” You parroted his words back to him with an annoyed huff. It was hard not to let Joel infiltrate your mind but lack of his attention was eating you up–making you do crazy things, evidently.

With a satisfied huff at the placements, you brought your arms down.

Why did that…feel heavy?

A sharp crackle and metallic clatter fills the air before you fully completed your thought, the chains of lights comes tumbling down. You froze. Lowering your gaze to see the single goddamn twine snagged onto your sweater that you’d effectively yanked down with you. 

The bulbs burst into chaotic pops as they hit the ground, shards of glass scattering like tiny fireworks across the patio, drawing everyone’s attention.

Joel doesn’t hesitate, his hands found your waist as he lifted you off the ladder and set you firmly on the ground to safety with a grunt, his eyes snaps to the shards of glass glinting in the light and the fresh scratches marring his freshly varnished patio.

"You gotta be shittin' me..." He mutters, the irritation sharp in his drawl.  

“Mr Miller…”

Joel held up his palm as a sign to get you to be quiet so he could speak. Damn if you calling him Mr Miller now of all times didn’t make him want to haul your ass up to his bedroom.

Which he might add, seemed conveniently close.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, pinching the bridge of his nose. "D’you think before you do anythin’ at all? Or do you just act on impulse?" He asks in a sharp and biting tone, looking directly at you as he spoke.

You cock your brow at his words. Surely he wasn’t seriously reacting this way to a couple of broken lights. To mention, your lights.

“What? Think about being a decent person to help?”

"A decent person would've listened the first time when I told you to leave it the hell alone," he snapped, stepping closer. "A decent person wouldn’t have shot me attitude n’ thrown a damn temper tantrum when I told you to get down."  

“What are you getting so bent out of shape for?”

“For starters, you wrecked my patio, darlin’.” He grumbles. Rubbing the back of his neck in the slightest amount of awareness that he’d overreacted, though he’d rather chew rocks than admit it. 

You don’t answer him. Humiliated as is. Your pouty-ness showed in the way you stomped over to get the broom that lay in the corner. He watches you regardless, arms folded taut.

“Goddamned train-wreck.” He mutters under his breath after a long pause, not even giving you the chance to let an apology leave your lips before he turns his heel to leave.

—

You didn’t take it well when people spoke to you like you were stupid. 

An Ivy League degree hung the walls of your room for fucks sake. Who the hell did Joel think he was? As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, you’d tucked your tail between your legs to sweep it all up without a word. The embers that lay dormant were further fanned as time passed. You were pissed.

Joel, on the other hand, begins to feel guilt at the way he’d reacted. Even in the corner of his eyes, he sees you helping set up with the rest of the parents. It wasn’t the behaviour of some reckless nympho he imagined you to be when you stepped foot into his yard. 

You didn’t have to stand there to stand under the sun in the unforgiving Texas heat, refilling lemonade for the parent’s committee. Or entertain Sarah and the rest of the kids. You’d turned his backyard into a damned Christmas Wonderland by the end of the night.

You were a good girl, he figures after a long while of brooding.

And he tries. He tries to approach you to apologize but you didn’t seem to be having it. Going out of your way to swerve at the slightest sight of him near you. Which he gets.

You were over it, really. Chalked it up to his personality being generally the way it was. But what really helped you get over your humiliation? Seeing Joel Miller fucking grovel. 

Which you were acutely aware of with the way he lingered around you, waiting for an opening that you deprived of him.

—

The skies grew to a dusky violet, the backyard gently lit up with the soft twinkle of the fairy lights you’d painstakingly hung up (and re-hung). Lull of familiar Christmas classics playing by the speakers. 

The warmth of the chatter and laughter surrounding the table tugged at your edges, coaxing a reluctant smile to your lips. You weren’t ready to admit it, but the festive mood was infectious.

You sat near the end of the committee’s table, the seat next to you conspicuously empty. The kids–Oscar, Sarah, and their friends were huddled at their own table. You briefly wondered if you should join them instead, given that the current hot topic at your table being mortgage rates.

The thud of a melamine crystal glass landing next to your plate broke your train of thought. You flick your gaze up, your expression hardening the moment you caught sight of Joel dragging the empty chair over next to you and lowering himself into it with a creak.

Without a word, he slides the glass closer to you, taking a sip from his own. His movements were deliberate, careful, like a man trying not to step on a landmine.

Joel wasn’t quite well-versed in apologies, as evident by Sarah’s constant reminders that one of these days he was going to piss a woman he actually fancied. His hand stretches over your lap, unfurling the napkin on the other side of you to drape it over your thighs. 

“Could you pass over the salt, sweetheart?” 

You tilt your head, arching a brow, not moving a muscle. Instead, you shot him a pointed look.

With a heavy sigh and a muttered curse under his breath, Joel stands up, his knees popping audibly as he leaned across the table to grab the salt himself. He slumps back into his chair, setting it down with a huff. How could a little thing like you hold so much anger?

“Done torturin’ me yet?” 

A scoff leaves your lips. 

“Who said I was?” 

“I’m tryin’ to apologise, sweetheart.” You shudder at the manner he whispers the words out. As though it was a secret reserved for just you and him. 

You rest your cheeks on your palms, shooting him an uninterested look. Joel’s eyes darts down to your plate that you were pushing to him. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching over and starts loading your plate up again with generous portions of the dishes spread across the table. The sight of him doing so, quiet and almost reverent, made your chest sing.

Oh this. This you could get used to.

For the next twenty minutes, you’d milked Joel’s newfound contrition for all it was worth. Needed a refill? Joel was already reaching for your glass. Running low on napkins? He was up and grabbing a fresh one before you even asked. You’d even braced yourself for him to snap when you made a fuss over your creaky chair, but to your delight, he stood up and swapped it out without so much as a grumble.

Unfortunately for you, your luck does runs out.

The flutter of your napkin onto the makeshift mat spread across the lawn catches his attention, his eyes darting to the rogue square of fabric before slowly flicking back up to meet your gaze. You leaned back in your chair, looking at him expectantly, lips quirking just enough to toe the line between innocent and insufferable.

Joel’s jaw twitches.

“Fuckin’ pick it up on your own, sweetheart.” his voice was laced with just enough irritation to make your smirk widen. Still, you couldn’t resist one last little prod.

Your legs shifted, one crossing over the other, the toe of your shoe brushing lightly against the denim of his jeans. His eyes darted down to the motion before snapping back up, a muscle in his jaw tightening.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to apologise?” 

Joel shifts in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest as he gave you a look that sent a shiver down your spine. “Think I settled my debts, crackles.”

You roll your eyes at his taunt, the warning laced in it only served to burn in your gut like uncontrollable lust. You felt yourself grow bored now that he’d ruthlessly cut you off from your only source of entertainment. 

The thrill begins to wane, you’d grown impatient at Joel’s lack of well, giving in. Though the idea, a possibly stupid one, that you might’ve needed to give him a little push crosses your mind. 

With a deliberate stretch, you rose from your seat, leaning over the table to reach for the salt shaker resting comfortably on Joel’s side with a hand placed on his thigh. It was perfectly positioned for him to hand it over to you–if you’d bothered to ask. But that wasn’t the point.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the faint tick of his pulse. Slowly, you eased back into your seat, dragging your fingers in a slow deliberate curve as you went.

The sharp grip of his hand on your wrist came next, firm enough to make you gasp. Joel’s dark eyes locked on yours, his nostrils flaring as he tried to keep whatever storm was brewing behind them at bay.

You pressed your tongue against your cheek, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. He’d taken the bait all right. The unmistakable rise against where your hand was placed told you what you needed to know. Hook, line, and sinker.

It doesn’t quite matter to him whether you’d forgiven him anymore. 

With a sharp tug, Joel pulls you up with him. “S’cuse me. This one isn’t feeling too well.” 

The protest dies in your throat when Joel practically hauls you across his yard, away from the nosy glances from the rest of the parents. 

You frown at the dusty old garage he leads you to up front where you’d parked your car. A hand comes up the back of your head to force you to duck underneath the half opened door, cringing at the loud sound it draws. 

You tip your head up to watch Joel grab the edge of the half-opened garage door to full slam it down shut.

Fuck. You felt your cunt clench with the way his sleeves tightened around his forearms, wetting your lips subconsciously at the sight.

“This where you murder me, Mr Miller?”

His jaw ticks at that. There it was again. Mr Miller.

“Shut up.”

You mouthed the words wow as you looked to the side. As though there was a camera you were monologuing to. Joel approaches you tentatively. Backing you up until you feel sturdy metal stop your path. 

A firm slam against the hood you were backed up against causes you to jolt. 

“You’re fuckin’ with me.” He begins. Shifting closer until he had you snug against him and the truck. “You’ve been fuckin’ with me.”

You tilt your head up. Neck stretched uncomfortably to its limit. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Joel sighs. Looking towards the side, as though he might back off and run away again. 

“This ain’t right.”

You frown. Why was he getting cold feet now? You gaze darts to the side, following his line of vision. A frilly pink bicycle parked in the midst of the dusty old boxes stacked up against concrete walls. Some labelled with years of mementos of his daughter growing up. 

Joel groans when he feels a much smaller, soft hand cup against the growing strain on his jeans. “Judging by this, I think you’re full of shit.”

His restraint teeters on the edge. “Don’t.” He grasps around your wrists to stop you, though, he half asses it, barely with the amount of strength he could’ve used if he’d really wanted you to stop.  

You palm against his erection, feeling it quickly harden beneath. You suck in your breath at the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the slight twitch of his lips. A whimper leaves your lips at how receptive he’d been to your touch. 

“You’re trouble.” He manages. Finally meeting your gaze. You can tell he’s conflicted, but the way you cupped around his balls through the denim has him keeling over with a rough exhale. 

He finally gathers enough strength in him to force your hand away from his cock. Just as you were about to whine about it, he flips you over. You steady your palms against the hood of his truck. 

“Gotta be quiet. You understand me?” You nod quickly. Not daring to speak considering how his voice already echoed in the garage even at its softest.

Your elbows move to rest against the dirtied metal. Folding it so you could comfortably rest your head on it. 

Joel lets out a low whistle at the way you bend your hips. Hiking your skirt up slowly. “Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” He mutters. Thumb swiping against the growing dampness of your panties. 

A dull noise from his zipper is the only other thing you hear when you feel him grind his clothed cock against you. 

“Mr Miller—please.” You breathed out. Your thighs tenses, wiggling your hips higher to relieve the ache you felt. Feeling his hardness prod against your folds. 

Joel sighs softly, thumbing against your clit before you curl into yourself. “Don’t need it.” You breathe out quickly. There’s a pause in his movements before you feel a thumb hook around the waistband of your panties. Dragging it down to your ankles. 

The sound Joel makes at the sight of your slick stringing down the gusset of it makes him wince out audibly. Two fingers gather the slick of your folds, messily dragging it up and down your clit in a repeated notion. His fingers dipping in and out of you with a squelch. You groan out. Hips stuttering at the sensation. 

“Hurry.” You urged.

You feel his other palm carefully twirl around the back of your hair. The breath knocks out of you when he heaves you backwards into his chest with a sharp tug. Fingertips entwined with your locks.

“Been patient with ya all fuckin’ day and ya think you got the right t’rush me now?”

Tears threaten to prick in the corners of your eyes at his tone. You grip around his wrist where he holds your hair. “…hurts” , you whisper, guiding his other hand back to your clit, “..here.”

Joel swallows thickly. He clenched his jaw so damn tight you audibly heard just how hard he ground them. How could he deprive you further when you were begging so sweetly? 

He shucks his jeans down further, guiding his twitching cock out from his boxers. A drawn out groan leaves your lips when he nudges the head of his cock against your soaking pussy. Your moan echoes loudly into the space around you both. 

He growls into your ears. Before you could apologise, your voice gets muffled around the heavy palm that comes to cover your mouth. You whine against it. “Told t’be fuckin’ quiet.” He grits, voice hushed against the side of your head. 

Your eyes nearly roll back at the way he begins to thrust into you with the tip in an effort to get you used to his size. But it didn’t matter. The way his cockhead stretched your pussy out stung. But it was quickly replaced by the nauseating need to be fucked full. 

Joel leans down to trace kisses up your neck before he fully sheathes himself into you. The muffle around your mouth grows tighter to suppress the loud moan. “Shh shh…you’ve got it.” He praises, breathing heavily into your ears. 

The tears trickle directly over his knuckles. He releases the grip he had on your hair, looping around your abdomen. Snapping his hips into you at a punishing pace. You babble incoherently, practically slobbering into his palms, whining about how deep his cock was pounding into you. 

The obscene slaps of where the two of you connected fills the garage, only spurring his need to fill you deep with his come. 

Joel lets out a groan when you clench around his dick like vice. “Fuck. Pussy’s chokin’ me.” His head drops to the dip of your neck. Pressing kisses onto your pulse point. 

“Don’t think I can last much longer.” He admits, dragging his hand–slick with your saliva down to your throat. His head flush against your shoulder blade. He takes a moment to breathe you in. Joel isn’t quite the man he used to be and coming this embarrassingly fast wasn’t on his docket. Least of all tonight. 

You squirm a little at the sensation of Joel’s stubble against your shoulder. A deep exhale leaving your lips. 

“M…me too..” You pant out heavily. Resting your head back against his chest. Joel’s free hand slides underneath your sweater, yanking your bra down. 

A rough palm kneads the softness, tweaking your hardened nipples in a circular motion. “Shit. Mr—…Miller.” You manage. Squirming at how his palm gropes your tits clumsily. You give yourself the final push you needed, your fingers coming down to rub against your clit. 

Joel’s hips stutter at the sensation of your pussy convulsing around his cock, following your orgasm soon after. But he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through it. Both his hands firm around your hips. 

Your hands hastily come up to grab around his wrists. “Wait—stop—…stop.” You gasp out. Joel doesn’t quite register your pleas with how his mind was whirring around wanting to fuck his come deep into you until he feels a warm splatter of your release trickle down his thighs. 

Your bated breaths fill the garage. Mortified, you watch the liquid drip from the radiator grill of Joel’s truck. 

“I’ll be damned.” He muses, earning a warning look from you. Joel shakes his head, a low rumble from his chest makes you feel a little less embarrassed about squirting onto his truck. He turns you around to press a kiss onto the apple of your cheeks. 

“Been meanin’ to get er’ washed. Guess I don’t gotta anymore.”

[attapullman]

Pretend | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: f!reader, light smut, 18+ only as always, unprotected pinv, fake dating trope, one bed trope, lots of switching between present and past tense whoops

A Note From Mo: It's Choose-a-Fic! Thank you to everyone who voted and has been part of my 500 Follower milestone! Hopefully you like the fic I wrote just for you (with a little extra one bed trope as a special thank you)! 😘

Coupe glasses tinkle and laughter rings out as the rehearsal dinner draws toward an end. Everyone’s had a little too much of the hotel’s signature white sangria. On your left, Isabel and Reuben are frozen in blissed smiles, the outdoor lights casting an ethereal glow. An idyllic night before the wedding.

You should be relaxed. You’ve had a little wine, the most delicious dinner, and tomorrow your college roommate is getting married at this stunning resort. But every time that big hand grazes your shoulder or his breath heats the skin of your cheek, you’re reminded none of this is real and you desperately wish it was.

The only difference between six-year-old Robert Floyd and the man standing in front of you is the broad shoulders. Those pink cheeks are just as prominent and his eyes are wide behind updated corrective frames. Sandy hair politely brushed off his face. Even his thin lips warp in that same warm smile that instantly relieves tension. The only significant difference is those shoulders that fill out the entire doorway as he checks his rooming assignment with Isabel.

From where you stand behind her, suitcase in tow, you feel your cheeks warm and your gaze drop. You haven’t seen him since the engagement party where you muttered, “it’s a small world after all” more than once. It seemed all too coincidental that your college roommate would be marrying a guy who just happens to be in the same Navy squadron as your first grade boyfriend. 

To be fair, you had “dated” Bobby Floyd for a total of a week before your parent’s divorce landed you on the opposite side of the country. There hadn’t even been a formal breakup. He’d simply been the guy you jokingly referred to as your “first love” at wine nights. Occasionally you remembered his collection of vintage Coke bottle caps. 

He was practically a figment of your imagination until Isabel introduced you to the man in the nicely ironed pale blue button down and you sputtered out that you already knew each other.

You’re so lost in how bizarre the coincidence of it all is that you zone out through Bob’s check-in and the next few guests that arrive. It’s not until her line of relatives has dwindled that she remembers you’re sat behind her, sorting out the favors for after the reception. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have given you your card earlier!” she apologizes as she flips back over her clipboard to find your room number. It’s all forgiven, you were waiting to finish up your bridesmaid duties before checking in. Get the work out so you can slip on your bathing suit and enjoy the amenities - pool, sun, and cabana boys - before dinner tonight.

She hands you a room card and walks you through the map of the hotel. You miss the second half while gathering up all your items, mentally trying to remember exactly how many rights before a left. Dinner is at seven and anything else surely she will remind you. With a kiss to her cheek, you head off to your room to begin the fun part of this destination wedding.

The property is stunning, all sun-washed sandstone and lush tropical plants. Deep blue terry cloth draped over the sun loungers you would live on all weekend. Some sun to compliment what should be a flawless wedding weekend. Maybe you’d get lucky and one of Reuben’s hot Navy friends would join you for some eye candy. You deserved a little one-weekend-in-paradise romance.

Suite 4. It’s a little deflating to remember that you’re in this big suite alone because all the other bridesmaids have dates. A least you have some privacy. The intricately carved door accepts your room key and you push the heavy wood open, ready to change and relax.

W-why was Bob in your villa?

Standing amongst the floor-to-ceiling windows draped with ochre that overlook the ocean, white oak furnishing topped with plush linen bedding, and a trailing pothos overtaking the wall, was Bob Floyd - right in the middle of changing his shirt. Equally wide eyes taking you in as he held the bunched heathered grey cotton right in front of his head, thumbs through the head hole, mouth open in shock.

“What are you doing in here?”

What was he doing in here? This was your room. “Why are you in my room?”

Despite knowing he’s not in the wrong, his cheeks tinge a deep pink. Takes a moment to pop his head in the hole of his shirt and brush out the wrinkles. You cling to to the annoyance of him interrupting your afternoon instead of focusing on how toned he’s gotten as an adult.

“This is my room. Suite 4. See?” He holds up a card identical to yours, the glossy ‘4’ reflecting the sunlight. The same ‘4’ that looks back at you. 

Clearly there’s been some sort of mistake, someone at reception accidentally typing in the wrong number while going about their busy day or Isabel reading her meticulous list wrong. An easy fix. 

You bite your lip. “Oh. Maybe I grabbed the wrong card. I’ll go find Isabel and sort it out.”

“I’ll come with you, she might have handed me the wrong card. Probably supposed to be sharing a bed with Fanboy.” He’s impossibly sweet as always. 

You have no idea who or what a Fanboy is, but you accept his company back to reception, leaving your bag in the room purely because the bridesmaid dress alone weighs a half ton. The walk back there - with a few long turns - is a tad awkward as you both walk in silence, occasionally jerking your heads in the direction to turn.

Isabel has wandered away from reception, and is now soaking in one of the poolside bars with Reuben, their lovesick smiles contagious. She gives you the warmest smile when you approach, face splitting in two as she takes in your companion. “Hey, you two! You get settled in okay?”

God, this is awkward. Thankfully before you can muster the courage, Bob steps in. “I think there’s been a mix up with one of our rooms.”

Her eyebrows furrow as takes in what he said. Eyes flit to her lounger where her clipboard of rooming assignment lies within her tote. Reuben sips his frozen margarita in casual interest, not involved in the logistics.

“Which room are you in?” Even without her clipboard, Isabel is pretty sure she knows who is in what room. She spent months perfecting these details.

You hold up the glossy ‘4’, now slightly sticky with your sweat.

“Four? Hmm, I’m pretty sure that’s right. Was there a problem with the key? Both your keys?”

You give her a bewildered look. “One of us has the wrong key. We’re not sharing a room.”

“Why not? Your prude parents aren’t here to care if you share a room with your boyfriend.”

Every muscle in your body freezes. What is she talking about?

And while you’re paralyzed on the spot, Reuben looks like he’s about to throw up the margarita. Because he knows exactly what just happened. And not only is it his fault, but he does not have a solution.

Before you can question Isabel, the pilot is throwing his arm around your shoulders and grabbing Bob’s elbow, whisking you two away, calling out to his confused fiancée not to worry, he’s got it handled. The controlled hands of a fighter pilot steering you back in the way of Suite 4 while his face reads like he’s watching a plane crash.

Reuben won’t answer any of your questions, holding up a palm while you sputter out the who, what, where’s? of what is going on. Bob silently allows himself to be directed, confusion upon his brow, but patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

Once you’re privately within the confines of Suite 4, the soft scent of bergamot and sandalwood wrapped around your bodies, Reuben finally confesses his mistake.

“Isabel thinks you two are dating.”

You expect to see eyeballs on the floor from how violently they pop out of your head. What? Bob doesn’t look much better. You two have barely spoken in decades, let alone are in a relationship! Why in the hell would Isabel think that?

Reuben drags a hand down his face, wishing he was back in the pool drinking. “When Bob over here told me that you two dated way back, I casually mentioned it to Is. When she asked the other week if he’d be good sharing a room, I thought she meant Fanboy or Harvard.”

You skip over the fact that Bob has talked about you to other people to focus on the details. “She meant me.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” By this point he’s rubbing the skin on the back of his neck raw, eyes wildly desperate. “Can you two share? It’s only two nights.”

Your eyes meet ocean blue as you both look at the single bed, then at each other. Bob intervenes calmly. “Why can’t you just tell her we need another room?”

Reuben crosses his arms across his chest, suddenly defensive. “We don’t have any other rooms. We booked the place out entirely. Short of Aunt Muriel keeling over, one of you would have to be at another hotel.”

“That’s fine,” you quip, grabbing your suitcase and ready to get the hell out of this situation.

“There’s nothing within a half hour drive. And you’re both in the wedding, that is not going to fly with Isabel.”

You’re tough, you can do hard things. Two nights at a gorgeous resort where you have to share a king-sized bed with the sweetest man on the planet? Could be so much worse. From a look at Bob’s face, he’s having the same realization.

And right as you’re about to tell Reuben that it’s not a big deal, he sends in the clincher. 

“You’re also gonna have to pretend you’re dating.”

“You’re joking.” Your tinny voice rings out in the room. You can do a lot of things - go to a wedding alone, sleep in the same bed as Bob - but you draw the line at pretending you’re dating someone you hadn’t seen until an engagement party six months ago. Nope, no way.

You look at Bob, standing with his hand resting low on his hip, watching this entire scene unfold. Giving him an expectant look, he smooths out his face and gives you a little nod. He’s on whatever team you’re on.

And just as you were about to tell Reuben to get lost, Isabel’s sweet face floods your mind’s eye. That happy smile she always greets you with, and her dismay that something had gone wrong with your room. Her perfectly planned out wedding weekend ruined by her misunderstanding a minor detail. She would insist that you have separate rooms, even if it interfered with plans, and she’d be upset - the smallest tinge of disappointment clouding her bridal smile.

Isn’t the job of a bridesmaid to make the bride not have disappointment?

And now, sitting here at the rehearsal dinner, warm conversation all around you, you can still hear yourself let out a large huff of breath and agree. “Alright, we can pretend for the weekend.”

It’s a decision you stand by, but doesn’t make the subtle way Bob has been playing your boyfriend the last 24 hours any easier. He plays devoted partner a little too well. Carrying your beach bag down to the water that afternoon when everyone wanted to sit by the pool, sweetly rubbing sunscreen into that spot on your back that you can never reach. Grabbing a drink for you when he went up to the bar. 

Your lonely wedding weekend is suddenly filled with this broad-shouldered Navy man who gives you a shy smile every time you make eye contact.

There wasn’t time to put in ground rules before Reuben threw you you to the wolves to socialize with the rest of the wedding party. When Isabel saw you, standing a healthy foot away from Bob and her sculpted eyebrow raised, it was the first test of this “relationship”. Your heart slamming in your chest as you slipped a hand around that thick bicep and rested your hot cheek against his shoulder. His own face fighting anxiety as he allowed you to set the pace. Isabel’s smile brightening as she beckoned you closer, instantly fawning over the two of you and the way Bob’s hand fits a little too nicely around your waist.

Thankfully the copious amount of relatives and friends constantly interrupting Isabel and Reuben prevented your friend investigating too close into this development in your love life. Happy to believe over some intentionally placed hands and the casual way he throws sweetheart in when asking if you want a drink.

“Now that I have you alone, why didn’t you tell me you were together? First loves reunited?!” Isabel drags you away to the other bridesmaids, Bob giving you a small wave as he joins the men. 

You shrug, making a show of looking at the hibiscus to avoid her eyes. Desperate for a believable lie. “I didn’t want to…uh, distract from your big day?”

She wraps you in a warm hug you don’t deserve. “Not distracting in the slightest. He’s the best, you’re so lucky!”

You throw a glance his way, watching his good-natured grin as Reuben’s groomsmen, mostly aviators he’s worked with over the years, joke and jostle on the other side of the lawn. It’s side glances like these that carry through the night; when he pulls your chair out for dinner, asks the waiter to refill your water, and offers you half of his dessert. When your eyes do meet, you drown in the twin oceans that twinkle back at you.

By the time you’re heading back to Suite 4 to share that big bed, you’re pretty sure you’re not pretending to like him anymore.

You’re regretting not putting up the pillow barrier Bob so kindly offered to set up. It seemed childish at the time - you didn’t need a divider to stay on your side of the bed - but now you’re lying here in your little cotton pajamas you did not expect anyone to see and you can hear him breathing and the room is a little too warm. Every sense is on high alert and a pillow barrier would give you an inkling of privacy.

In the silhouette of the moonlight peaking through the curtains, you watch the planes of Bob’s face as he peacefully sleeps beside you. If he’s good looking in the daytime, he’s breathtaking at night. Pale eyelashes against his cheeks, lips slightly pouted, hair mussed from changing sides. You wish you could smooth your fingers over the planes of his face, appreciate the sharpness of his jaw, the roundness of his cheeks.

Tomorrow you have to pretend all over again to be in love with him. A feeling that’s already starting to creep inside you. A whole day of his gentle touches and laughs against your cheek. He was the perfect boyfriend that week in grade school, and even more perfect as an adult. Holding his hand made you want to never let go…which promptly made you want to jump out of your skin. 

This was a tiny white lie to get through Sunday morning. That was it.

You keep replaying the last moment before you retired back to your hotel room for the night. The drunken group sitting around the fire pit, a bottle of tequila making its way around the circle. Not enough chairs so you ended up in Bob’s lap, body cradled in the firm comfort of his chest. 

He made it so natural, the way his hand ran up and down your arm when you shivered in the night chill. You knew he could feel the shock up your spine when you noticed how intently he watched you during your story of how Isabel found a rat in your dorm room. He made you feel like the only person out there by the fire pit. The only person on this island.

When even the tequila couldn’t keep you warm any longer, the group disbanded in favor of cozy beds and hot showers. And even when no one else was in sight he still kept his arm around your shoulder to share his warmth, the pinching heels you’d shed in his hand as he asked whether you wanted to shower first.

Lips accidentally brushing your ear when he said he liked your dress; it matched the bougainvillea.

While you hadn’t spent much time together since your parents moved you away too long ago to remember, you were continually floored by how thoughtful he was still. He remembered how Isabel didn’t like ice, and that a few members of his squadron had allergies. Giving up his water because the woman next to him was without. Not to mention how he seemed to go the extra mile with you. All the years of boyfriends before this and not a single one had ever noticed you picked the pine nuts out of your salad; your new fake boyfriend requesting a fresh one sans nuts.

And it was borderline torture watching him get ready for bed post shower. Face and chest red from the scalding water and slick hair pushed back, towel slung a little too low as he dug through his suitcase. You were still speechless as he offered to put up a pillow barrier or something if it would make you more comfortable, making sure you knew he respected your boundaries.

His eyes were so blue without his glasses…

Caution to the wind, you run a finger over his cheek, brushing away a rogue eyelash and promptly turn away from him. Only one more day and you would be free of wanting a man that wasn’t yours.

The Fitch wedding day was perfect. Wide smiles, bridal lace, stunning hydrangeas, and not a dry eye in the house when Isabel and Reuben officially became husband and wife. It was the storybook start to a happy ever after. 

The sunlight blessed ceremony was followed by a lantern-lit reception, dancing and drinking overtaking the sprawling beach-front lawn of the hotel. You stayed out until the evening ended, the wedding party laughing and overfilling glasses of champagne until the last lantern was blown out. 

You barely remembered your rooming/relationship situation until a warm hand was on your forearm, asking if you were ready to go back to the room. It’s entirely unfair how good he looks in his suit. All day you’ve admired it, from the moment he emerged from the bathroom asking for help with his bow tie to an hour ago, when the wedding party did one last rendezvous on the dance floor. 

Bob has an ease on the dance floor, clearly practiced, the hand on the small of your back gently guiding. A hand big and warm and more distracting than trying to remember your own footwork. The dark-haired woman he seems close with whooping out, “Look at those moves, Floyd!” every time you get close, her own date cheering along. 

You shake the memory from your brain as Bob walks you back to the room. Keep the pining to a minimum until you can get to the airport and not have to see him ever again. You’re doing this for Isabel, your own emotions have no place. Even as you watch him open the door to the room and welcome you inside, looking so perfectly boyfriend-shaped.

Your skin feels too hot, your head clouded by bubbles and loud poppers exploding into the sky. Shedding this satin dress and getting into a warm shower sounds like heaven, washing away the buzzing ill-content flooding your body since you joined the wedding group that morning hand-in-hand with Bob. But a broken zipper interrupts those plans.

“Bob?” He stills on his way to the bathroom, bow tie loose around his neck. You indicate to the stuck zipper you’re fiddling with, warmth flaring at the top of your cheeks at your predicament.

The tips of his ears flush as he walks to you, chest a breath away from your back, admiring the way the satin flows over your curves and dips. Takes a moment to gather your hair over your shoulder before reaching for the zipper. The skin of his pinky accidentally brushes your neck, twin breaths catching at the shock. 

Firm fingers guide the zipper onto the track. As they guide the cool metal down your back, the boiling point that has been simmering below the surface since yesterday afternoon comes to a head. The lace of your bra is visible. Now the silken band of your underwear. The air of the room is still, eagerly awaiting what happens next.

While his voice is shaky, his words are firm. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your head turns to the side, eyes catching his profile, too scared to look at him directly. 

“What are you pretending to do?”

His face falls into the crook of your neck, fingers tightening along the satin of your hips. “Pretending I’m doing our friends a favor. Pretending I’m not falling for you. Pretending every time I touch you it’s not the best part of my day.”

Your hand wraps around his, rough skin and satin beneath your fingers. Needing to tether yourself to reality to make sure this isn’t a champagne-fueled dream that he’s professing against your neck. 

“In that case, I don’t want to pretend anymore either.”

While you can’t see him, you can feel his realization against your skin. Brow furrowing, lips parting. The soft brush of his nose as he straightens up, uses his hands to turn you to him. Finally forced to look at each other amidst the information divulged.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, who braved the waters of uncharted territory. Time stills and speeds up as his face grows closer. The scent of sandalwood and bergamot that’s followed you all weekend replaced by the woodsy mint of his cologne you’ve treated yourself to when tucked into his side. Anyone outside can hear two hearts beating erratically, anxious and excited. 

His lips are warm and comforting, just like everything else about him. Pressing delicately against yours, taking his time and letting you set the pace. You’re torn between the shock of how divine he feels and the greedy need for more. Senses overwhelmed by him; you want to taste more, feel more, see more.

When he pulls away, a gentleman not wanting to overstep, you’re breathless.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” His confession is paired with pink cheeks and large hands playing with your fingers. 

You can’t help but to tease him, the banter from your childhood coming back. “Did it live up to expectations?”

“Way, way better.” Your smile is swallowed in his kiss, chins knocking as you trade off enthusiasm. A groan leaving Bob as you grab his hands and walk back to the bathroom. That hot shower still sounds amazing, but you need more of him.

The travertine tiles glow in the soft light as you watch your childhood love remove his suit, taking time to fold the pieces on the counter, letting you indulge in unbuttoning his crisp shirt as you share another sweet kiss. His own hands twisted in the dress barely clinging to your skin. The sounds that escape him as your hands explore his chest are purely sinful, meant only for your ears.

He barely lets you bask in his body, honed from years of Naval training, before he’s stripping the satin from your frame. You beg for another kiss, but he denies you. He can’t be distracted from watching every inch of skin being revealed. From letting his fingers follow the fabric as it pools at your feet. From kissing his way back up your body until your head falls back against the wall, fingers beckoning him to the shower.

“You’re so beautiful.” It’s more breath than words, but ignite the goose flesh along your skin as he adjusts the hot water and shower head to your liking.

Minutes or hours passed as you reacquainted under the steam. Your fingers tangled in wet strands of sandy hair, fingers slipping along any skin you can reach. His own hands tightly hugging your body, holding you close as he appreciates your nude form. Swallowing each other’s moans as his fingers dip between your folds and you run your palm along his shaft.

The universe has ceased to exist by the time Bob kisses you against the shower wall, fingers wrapping under your thighs to hoist you to his level. Loving the way you giggle as your arms wrap around his neck, trusting him wholeheartedly. Eyes trained at where he lines up with you, relishing the way your breath catches in anticipation. He kisses your forehead as a promise to take care of you, a promise you know he’ll keep.

Once he’s seated deep in you, the moment about connecting rather than getting off, he tilts your head up to check in with you. A kiss as his eyes search you for discomfort. The flames of his eyes burning the brightest blue. One final clench around him and he knows he needs to move; if not for his sake, for yours.

It’s the most glorious dream as he fills you completely, hips rocking into yours as sweaty foreheads meet.

When he brings you to orgasm, a steamy moment punctuated by your muffled screams against his shoulder, there’s nothing fake about the affection as he peppers you with praise. Or when he fills you with his own release a moment later, exhaling thank you, thank you, thank you.

A pillow barrier isn’t even discussed as you lay in his arms that night, cheek against bare chest. His arm trails down your arm like it had the night before, a mindless action you now recognize as meaningful to him as to you. Sated and content, as it should be.

You sit up a little to run your nose along his neck, producing a low groan from him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, after that,” you gesture to the shower, cheeks heating, “does this mean we’re, uh, dating again?”

He smiles at your flush, cupping your face with one of his large hands. Presses the sweetest kiss to your lips.

“You know, we never had a break up. Technically we’ve been dating this whole time.”

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[fairytaleendingss]

Room For One More?

Chapter 1

Summary: After a sudden eviction from your home, your friend Mary puts you in contact with her high school friends, James, Sirius and Remus who just so happen to be in need of a roommate. However, living with a group of boys you’ve never met before proves to be more complicated than you expected; especially when they’re all so attractive.

CW: None I don’t think.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

——

To say that life had been crazy lately would be putting it lightly. You had only just moved to the city six months ago, in pursuit of a career you were still yet to achieve, got landed with an office job that you were only barely qualified for, and the eviction notice on the door of your shitty downtown apartment was just the icing on the cake.

For a good few days it seemed like your world was caving in around you as you tried to collect yourself and figure out the next steps. In a city like London, real estate was scarce, not to mention expensive, and you were still working to pay off your student loans.

It was only two days before you were set to be kicked out when your new friend, Mary stepped in and saved the day.

You met Mary at your new office job and she’d been somewhat of a saving grace from the beginning.

She had been a splash of colour in a sea of black suits and beige blouses. She’d been quick to introduce herself, inviting you to join her for lunch on your first day, during which she caught you up on all the ins and outs of office politics. The two of you had become fast friends, something you were extremely grateful for.

And you found yourself even more grateful for her, as her car pulled into the driveway of the apartment building you were about to call your new home.

“How do you know these guys again?” You asked, glancing up at the red brick structure through the passenger window.

“We all went to high school together,” She explained. “I know them really well, trust me they’re great guys.”

You believed her. She’d never given you a reason not to. But still, moving into a household with three strange men that you’ve never met, is bound to be daunting nonetheless.

“And you’re 100% sure they’re okay with me moving in? I mean, they don’t even know me!”

She only giggled. “Don’t be silly! They’re completely on board. They’ve been looking for a new roommate since their other friend Peter moved out a month ago to get a place with his girlfriend, Sybil. They were just about to put up an ad on Craigslist, for heavens sake. Trust me, you’re doing them a favour. If I love you, they’ll love you too.”

You nodded at her but your heart still hummed unsurely in your chest. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

After a treacherous journey up the narrow staircase with boxes in hand, you arrived at the door to the apartment. Mary was behind you, lugging a suitcase full of your clothes. You wished, for a moment that her friends at least lived in a building that had an elevator. You erased that thought from your mind a moment later, when you remembered that these people were doing you a massive favour. Besides, you were hardly in a position to complain.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. When it swung open you had to make a conscious effort to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Standing in front of you was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. He was fair and lean with long strands of dark hair fanning his face. He was chiseled in a way that made him look delicate, almost doll-like but he also had tattoos lining his arms and chest, which you could see poking out from beneath his white t-shirt. He was leaning against the doorframe, effortlessly cool, looking down at you with a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“Hey there gorgeous. You must be the new roommate. I’m Sirius.”

You peered up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond to this man who had the face of a Greek God. And did he just call you gorgeous? You weren’t sure what you were expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Um, hi,” you stumbled awkwardly. Your hands felt clammy even just looking at this guy, how the hell are you supposed to live with him? “I’m y/n.”

His grin only widened “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ugh, stop flirting with her Sirius! And move out of the way, this stuff we’re carrying is heavy you know.”

You’d almost forgotten Mary was there until she’s stepping forward, shoving past Sirius who was blocking the doorway, and entering the apartment.

“Sorry hun, just trying to make conversation,” Sirius teased, stepping aside gently to let you in.

The place was bigger than you expected. Not huge but definitely comfortable, and better decorated. The picture you’d created in your imagination could only be described as a “bro cave” with bean bags on the floor and minimal furnishings. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the place is rather nice and homey, with comfortable leather furniture and a few framed artworks on the walls.

“Well, welcome home,” Sirius said, following you into the living room. “I can’t take any credit for the interior design, unfortunately. That was all Remus. Speaking of, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you.”

Sirius padded off down the hall, making his way to one of the rooms and banging heavily on the door.

“Remus! The new roommate is here! Don’t be rude and come and meet her!”

The boy that emerged was equally as attractive as Sirius. He was taller than the first boy, with a mop of sandy hair and dark, piercing eyes. He wasn’t as effortlessly cool as Sirius, he was more lanky and hunched in posture, but he had a sort of nerdy charm about him that was very endearing. He was dressed in a thick woollen jumper and his hair was mattered. He blinked up at Sirius, like he hadn’t quite caught up with the situation yet.

“What’s going on?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “Our new roommate is here! Come and say hello!”

He peered out of the doorway. Looking in either direction before his eyes landed on you. Not quite sure what to do with yourself, you sent him an awkward wave.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” he replied in return, with a tight lipped smile. Then he turned back to Sirius.

“Could you go away now please? I was having a nap.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

There door was abruptly slammed in his face.

You stood in the living room, holding a box to your chest awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable about the interaction. Sirius could apparently tell, and was quick to jump to your aid.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said dismissively. “He’s just in a mood. He’s a med student and all the studying is driving him wild at the moment. He’ll come good after he gets a bit of sleep. Now, how about I show you to your room?”

He directed you down the hallway to a door at the end. Inside, you could already see Mary hanging up your clothes in the wardrobe.

“So this is you,” Sirius muttered, gesturing to the space like a magician revealing his assistant had not, in fact, been sawed in half. Then he sent you another flirtatious smile, something you were quickly learning was a signature of his.

“I’ll leave you girls to it but just shout if there’s anything you need. Although, if you want someone to help carry boxes, I’d recommend waiting until James gets home later on. He’s the athletic one of the three of us. And let me tell you those stairs are a killer.”

You chuckled, a genuine smile overtaking your face for the first time in this whole experience.

“Thanks Sirius. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he drawled, giving you a wink.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay Sirius. Thank you but you can go now. We have a lot of unpacking to do here.”

Once Sirius had departed, you and Mary got to work on unpacking your things. Luckily for you, Peter had left behind a bed frame and a few pieces of furniture in his move, a saving grace considering most of your stuff had come with the previous apartment. You still had a mattress strapped to the roof of Mary’s car that needed bringing in, but like Sirius had said, Mary insisted that you wait for the mysterious James to return from work to help you carry any of the heavier items inside (With the way the others talked about him, you could only imagine he must be a superhero). Instead you busied yourself with unpacking your random assortment of trinkets collected over the years.

“So how are you feeling about the place?” Mary pried, unpacking a few shoe boxes into the bottom of the closet.

“It seems alright,” you admitted. “To be honest, I was a little nervous going into this but Sirius seems nice. I think he and I will get along.”

Mary smiled. “Oh good! I knew you’d like it. And just wait until you get to know the other boys better too. You’ll fit right in! I’m sure of it.”

You have her an anxious smile. “I really hope you’re right.”

—

It was a few hours later, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

“Honey! I’m home!” A playful voice boomed down the doorway.

You slowly emerged from your room to greet your final roommate. The guy was visibly buff and wearing a mud-covered jersey. He had matted tuft of thick dark curls and round glasses that balanced on the edge of his nose.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hi. I’m y/n. I’m your new roommate.”

He looked up curiously before his expression morphed into a dazzlingly charming smile. He began to approach you and you held out a hand for him to shake. He bypassed the gesture all together, instead choosing to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug.

You were caught a little off-guard at first but tentatively hugged him back, heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the muscles of his biceps flex against you.

Pull yourself together!! You thought.

As he pulled away, he looked down at you, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. He smiled widely, reminding you somewhat of a playful puppy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed. “Mary’s told me so much about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your own face as you looked up at him. You really liked James, you decided.

“How have you been settling in so far?” He continued.

“Pretty well, I suppose. I’ve done most of my unpacking now.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Well if you need help with anything, let me know. I’d be happy to assist.”

You grimaced. “Actually there is one thing you might be able to help me with?”

He raised a brow expectantly.

“How do you feel about mattress transportation?”

—

Manoeuvring a queen sized mattress up three floors of narrow stairs proved to be a challenging task. But somehow, between the two of you, you managed it.

By the time James actually wrestled the mattress on your bed-frame, you were just about ready to collapse on top of it.

Mary, unfortunately, had found the whole display hilarious, especially the moment where you’d lost your grip and send the mattress sliding down the stairs back to the first floor. So instead of offering to help, she’d taken the opportunity to film the entire ordeal on her phone. You expected it would be gracing social media by the end of the evening.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done!” James exclaimed as he finally dropped the material onto the bed-frame.

You chuckled. “Yeah! I mean it only took an hour and a half.”

James smiled and checked the watch on his wrist.

“It’s getting late and I really should shower. But how about we order pizza afterwards. We could have dinner and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Mary, darling, you’re invited too of course.”

The girl looked between the two of you, smiling playfully. Then she shot you a look.

“Thanks for the offer Jamie but I actually have some stuff I need to get done back at home. You guys enjoy though.”

She sent you a wink as she went and your eyes widened.

“I’m going to go wash off, but there’s a take out menu on the fridge,” James said. “Pick out whatever you want. My shout.”

—

A short while later you found yourself sat on the loveseat, a plate of pizza in your lap while Sirius and James sat side by side on the couch, bickering about the most recent episode of the Bachelor. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched on.

They argued in a way that was firm but affectionate. You could tell that they were particularly close and had clearly known each other a long time.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Sirius exclaimed, waving his piece of pizza in the air for emphasis. “Jennifer was such a bitch! She totally deserved to be sent home.”

James gasped in mock offence. “No way! He should’ve kept her. They had a special connection.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius blurted. “All she did was talk about herself. She barely even gave him the time of day.”

“I disagree! She was playing hard to get. Girls only do that when they like someone!” James stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t contain your snort at the comment.

Sirius turned to you then, a smirk adorning his gorgeous face. “Well, lucky for us, we now have a girl here to settle agreements such as these. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname. “If I’m being honest, I have to agree with Sirius. Jennifer was kind of a bitch.”

Sirius cheered and James held a hand to his chest dramatically.

“Well you’re both wrong,” James joked. “We must have been watching two different shows.”

Sirius scoffed. “Nah, mate. You just have a terrible radar when it comes to girls. I mean, you’ve been chasing the same girl since you were fifteen and she’s still shown you no interest.”

Your eyebrows raised at that one. “Wait what? I feel like I’ve missed a chapter here.“

“She’s just a friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a friend you’ve been in love with since third form.”

James sighed.

“There’s this girl, Lily, in our friend group,” he began to explain, looking rather bashful. “And I’ve kind of been into her for a while but she always turns me down.”

You grimaced, clicking your tongue in sympathy. “That sucks. But hey, If she’s managed to keep your interest for all these years then she must really be special. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

James smiled gently. “I’m sure you will soon. She and Mary are quite close.”

Sirius face lit up suddenly at that. “Actually guys, that reminds me. The band is playing a gig on Saturday and everyone’s coming. You should join us y/n!”

“Hold on, since when are you in a band?” You queried. “I thought you were a bartender.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m a bit of both! Bartender by night and lead singer of ‘Snakes and Lions’ by… well also by night I guess.”

“Basically, he plays in a band on the weekends,” James clarified.

“Yeah, and soon, we’ll be world famous!”

“Well I’d love to come and see you play,” you uttered.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“What’s a date?”

You all looked up to see that Remus had finally emerged from his room. He looked tired and a little disheveled. Although you supposed that was the only way you’d had a chance to see him so far.

“Rem, mate! Come join us! We got Italian sausage just for you!”

Sirius gestured to one of the pizza boxes on the table and Remus nodded, grabbing a plate to fill.

“We were just telling y/n about Sirius’ gig this weekend.”

Remus looked up at you for a moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then he straightened himself up and came to stand before you awkwardly.

“You’re um… you’re in my seat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

You shot up from the spot, feeling rather mortified by the interaction.

“It’s okay, you can come sit here!” James stated, sliding further towards the armrest of the sofa and patting the spot in between himself and Sirius.

You sat down tentatively, but Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder which helped a bit in easing the nerves.

You found yourself glancing over at Remus. He seemed quiet as he munched on his pizza. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of frustration towards him. He’d been nothing but rude to you since you arrived and you had no clue why.

“So tell us, y/n. What brought you to London?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Sirius’ question.

“Well, I just finished my degree not too long ago and I decided I needed a change, I suppose. London has a lot of good opportunities.”

“What did you study?” James asked, leaning his head in his hand as he looked down at you.

“Literature actually. I want to be a writer.”

Sirius brows shot up. “Really? That’s great. You should talk about that with Remus. He loves books.”

“Hmm?” The boy looked up then, as if having been lost in his own world, before brought back by the sound of his name.

“Y/n studied literature at university.”

He glanced over at you, only looking mildly interested. “Oh, that’s good.”

Then he turned his wrist glancing down at the watch that he wore. “It’s getting late. If you all don’t mind, I think I will finish dinner in my room. I have a lot of work to do.”

You frowned at that. Had you done something to upset him? Why was he so eager to get away from you?

“Alright mate. We’ll see you in the morning,” James muttered, oblivious to the issue.

Remus nodded at him before getting up slowly and sauntering back into his room.

James continued munching on his pizza happily but Sirius clearly noticed the way you tensed at the boy’s exit. He leaned in closely, speaking in a low tone so only you could hear.

“Sorry about him. He really isn’t like this usually. I’ll have a talk with him.”

You sighed. “No no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

You really didn’t want to be a point of contention between these boys.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble-“

“No it’s fine,” you shook your head. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired as well. I might turn in for the evening.”

James looked over at you with gentle eyes. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Once you got to your room, you lay back heavily against the door, sighing. You considered the events of the day. There had been few hiccups but you decided then and there that you’d do whatever you could to move past them.

You got along well with James and Sirius seemed friendly. It was just Remus who was yet to warm up to you.

As you got ready for bed, your mind ran over the interactions that you’d had so far and wondered what might be the root of his frustrations.

Maybe things will be different tomorrow, you thought, as you settled in for the night.

[solxamber]

Shot Through the Heart || Jade Leech

As a senior Cupid with a 100% matchmaking rate, your flawless record crumbles before your eyes when Jade Leech resists every arrow you shoot.

Cupid work was supposed to be simple. Straightforward. Shoot the arrow, spark the love, then vanish into the ether like a matchmaking ninja. And the best part? No one could see you while you were on the job. Humans couldn’t detect cupids unless you wanted them to—basic enchantment stuff.

It was foolproof. Bulletproof. Idiot-proof.

Until Jade Leech came along.

Now you were crouched on an invisible cloud in the Mostro Lounge, clutching your bow like a deranged sniper, trying for the fifth time today to make this slippery eel fall in love. Normally, one arrow would be enough. Two, tops. But no. Jade had managed to evade your efforts so many times you were starting to think he had some kind of love-repellent aura.

Your first attempt had been textbook—clean shot, perfect match, zero complications. You’d aimed at a sweet marine biology student sitting at the table he was standing at. She laughed at his jokes and even complimented his creepy mushroom collection. Prime material.

The arrow sailed through the air, shimmering with cupid magic, and… thunked directly into a potted kelp plant.

You blinked. That had never happened before.

Jade, meanwhile, tilted his head slightly, like he’d heard something. Which was impossible. He couldn’t see or hear you. That’s not how this worked.

“Strange,” he murmured, sipping his tea.

“Strange?” you hissed under your breath, ducking behind a kelp column for cover. “You don’t even know the half of it, buddy.”

Your second attempt was a waiter. He’d nervously approached Jade’s table to compliment the décor. You’d immediately pulled another arrow and lined up the shot. He was sweet, polite, and had a thing for tall, mysterious men with creepy hobbies. A perfect match.

The arrow zipped toward him—only to ricochet off Jade’s glass of water and hit a chandelier. It exploded in a shower of pink sparkles, which Jade observed with a calm “My, how festive.”

Meanwhile, Azul was screaming in the background about cleaning bills, and you were screaming internally about your reputation.

By the third attempt, you were desperate. A nice guy had wandered over to ask about the specials. Surely, surely, this would be the one.

Nope.

The arrow missed entirely, grazed a wine bottle, and smacked Azul square in the back of the head right when he was looking at a mirror. He froze, then his face took on a soft, dreamy expression that would haunt your nightmares forever.

“Wow,” Azul said breathlessly. “Your eyes are like a summer tidepool…” to himself.

You gagged. Jade, of course, looked directly at your hiding spot with that smile.

By attempt number seven, you were sweating. How could one man be so impervious to love? It wasn’t natural. The Association would have to send in a research team to study him after this.

You waited until a shy customer approached Jade to ask about the menu. He blushed when Jade smiled at him. Perfect. This was it.

You drew your bow, steadied your breath, and—

“You’re working very hard up there, aren’t you?”

You froze.

No. He couldn’t have. He didn’t.

You turned, heart pounding, to see Jade looking directly at you. You were still invisible—he shouldn’t have been able to—but that smug, knowing expression said otherwise.

“Oh, for the love of—”

Your hand slipped.

The arrow flew.

And it hit you.

In the foot.

There was a pause. A long, horrible pause, as the enchantment spread through your body.

“Oh no,” you whispered. “Oh no, no, no—”

It hit your chest. The realization came immediately, like a freight train of romantic doom. You were going to fall in love with Jade Leech.

From below, Jade tilted his head, a picture of polite curiosity. “Everything all right?”

“No,” you groaned, clutching your face. “Nothing is all right. Everything is the opposite of all right.”

Your heart was already beating faster, your palms sweating. You peeked out from behind the kelp column to see Jade still watching you, his mismatched eyes glittering with amusement.

“Interesting,” he murmured, taking another sip of tea.

And that’s when it hit you. He’d been doing this on purpose. He wasn’t just immune to cupid magic—he knew.

“Oh, you smug little eel,” you hissed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer, of course. He just smiled.

And for the first time in your long, illustrious career as a senior cupid, you realized you were in big, big trouble.

Masterlist

might do a part 2 lol

[kaiserthebiter3]

How would the l&ds men react if they find out about you telling your bestfriend about what happens between you two in bed ?

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus x reader (separately)

requests are open btw :)

Xavier

making yourself comfortable on the couch of your guys' living room , giggling and kicking your feet , totally letting your guard down thinking your handsome boyfriend is still napping .

"I'm telling you tara he may look nice and gentle , but in bed?? noo that guy is the exact opposite of gentle , not that I hate it though" , this was a message sent to your best friend Tara while you girls were discussing how the intimate time with your boyfriends is like.

Xavier passes through the hallway and notices your little giggles and the way you were pretty glued to your phone's screen , curious , he enters the living room without you noticing and gets behind you , and yes he pretty much read everything before you finally noticed him standing behind your back .

you were met with his raised eyebrow and a look on his face that clearly says *really?* , "Xavier what--" he cuts you off "I'm the one who should be questioning you right now , don't you think?" he sighs and proceeds "honey ..what is that , that you're doing?" , you hide your phone behind your back , your cheeks heating up "I mean....nothing important? " , he sits besides you making sure to face you , "nothing important?" you could sense the teasing tone in his voice , he's mocking you "ok , ok i know it might seem weird but it's just tara you know ?" you say brushing it off, "lovely I know you're close with tara but.. to that extent?" he asks , "yeah don't worry it's pretty normal between us....I mean this isn't our first time talking about...this.." xavier raises his eyebrow again but this time in amusement.

"well then" he gets closer to you then raises your chin with his hand "why don't I give you two more stuff to talk about?" with one swift motion , he ripped the buttons off your shirt staring dangerously into your eyes while at it "you make sure you tell her exactly of what is about to happen to you" he mocks you with a wicked grin.

Zayne

You've been waiting for your husband to pick you up from your work place for quite sometime now , however, thankfully your best friend Tara decided to keep you company while you wait for his arrival.

and somehow your conversation had took a rather an interesting turn , "ohh zayne is almost never gentle during it" you say sighing then proceeding "but it is because I , most of the time , rile him up" you remarked proudly , tara gets intrigued "ohhh? do tell your secret" ,she gets closer eager to get some tips from you , "darling" a voice cuts you both off , and you both flinch at the sudden voice coming between you , "it seems like a very important topic you both are discussing , but I'm afraid we have to go home" he says this with the most normal collected tone ever , like you two weren't just talking about his habits in the bedroom , tara gets embarrassed and excuse herself , but she does shoot you a look of "good luck" before leaving you two to be.

on the way home zayne never mentioned it , in fact he was asking how was work today and some other normal questions , so the ride was quite peaceful.

however as soon as you guys are in the house , he finally comments "so I'm almost never gentle huh?" he says so out of the blue with a smirk on his face , catching you off guard , you were hoping he'd actually ignore it and never mention it "well? am I wrong tho??" you reply trying to save some face by attacking him , "no you aren't" he says simply , "but only because almost everytime you rile me up" he said emphasizing the 'you' in the sentence , "zayneee" you whine "stop teasing me ok? you might think it's weird but it's quite normal between girlfriends to.....gossip" you said the last word while hiding your face in the palm of your hands , he chuckles at your state , approaching you he grabs your hands removing them from your face to look at you all flustered , but you moved your gaze away looking at everything in the room but him , "darling look at me" he says gently , and you can't help but fold "I'm not mad , but in fact a little invested in what you tell her" now his tone changes from a gentle to a very teasing one again "I'm pretty sure you've told her about what makes you feel good" he whispers in your ears seductively determined on teasing you , you pause for a few moments but ending up nodding to him defeated , "well then I guess you have to tell me as well , providing me with specific details that is".

Rafayel

it wasn't weird for you that rafayel drags you beside him sometimes , when he wants to paint , he claims that he's able to concentrate better when you're by his side.

but the more your boyfriend painted, the more focused he became, giving you the perfect opportunity to answer the texts tara sent you earlier, unnoticed .

"so you were talking about how your boyfriend is such a tease huh?" tara's texted "yeah exactly , this man has no shame he'd tease me at his workplace sometimes" you reply not knowing that you were smiling unintentionally while writing this, "although i can't say I dislike the thrill that comes with it" you add completely absorbed in the conversation , not noticing your boyfriend who's been trying to talk to you for a minute now , he eventually gives up and snatches the phone out of your hand bringing it up to his face "what's got you so entertained that you forgot about my presence?" he said looking through the screen trying to identify the reason , "rafayel don't---" you said trying to get your phone back before you get busted

"too late my love too late" he winks then gives the phone back to you willingly "I saw everything" he says leaning back relaxed , totally unbothered , but rather amused , and this got you more nervous than you already were , you wanted to say something to defend yourself , you really did ,however you didn't find any .

"ohhh you poor little girl" rafayel mocks getting closer , "seems like the cat got your tongue" his hands are now resting on your hips feeling them up and down slowly "I should tease you like I always do" he parts your legs with a swift motion startling you "only then I could get your sweet sounds to come out".

Sylus

sylus was never the one to pry , but when he overhead you on the phone with tara , he raised an eyebrow.

he had heard some very interesting remarks coming from you , of how he left you breathless and weak in the knees last night , all described in thorough details .

You didn't even notice him standing in the doorway until his deep voice cut off your conversation .

"so that's what you tell your friends?"his tone was a mix of amusement and curiosity , you jumped , clutching the phone to your chest "uhh sylus....I didn't see you there" you said flashing him an innocent smile .

his gaze lingred on you for a while , scanning you , before speaking "I wasn't aware our nights were a topic of discussion between you two" he says crossing his arms.

you huffed , setting your phone aside still red faced , "well it's normal , ok??" you explained defensively "girls share these things with eachother , and tara is the one that I go to for....stuff".

"Stuff?" sylus repeated clearly enjoying watching you flustered , he moved closer backing you against the wall as he leaned down , his face inches from yours , "care to share exactly what kind of 'stuff' you told her?".

you tried to maintain your composure , but your face kept heating up at the memory of the stuff you told her "just ...you know??" you muttered, looking anywhere but his eyes , "no I don't know kitten , speak up" .

you huff again "I...might've mentioned...how rough you are" you admitted , voice barely audible , sylus on the other hand was satisfied with the answer "I see" he hummed with dark amusement , leaning to whisper in your ear "next time , I'll make sure there are a few things you can't quite put into words".

[onlymingyus]

Somebody [SVTHUB world tour collab] (teaser)

pairing; choi seungcheol x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), fluff, angst, romance, fake dating au

summary; When you need someone to help you out of a bind quickly, you pick the first person you see to be your “boyfriend”, you just didn’t expect it to be your single hot dad neighbor, Choi Seungcheol…

content warnings; single father!seungcheol, teacher!reader, seungcheol has a child (obviously), eating/drinking, jeonghan/joshua (implied relationship but not stated), betting metioned, alcohol, medical field - doctor!seungcheol, doctor!joshua, mentions cheating in past relationship, mentions death/accident of spouse - widow!seungcheol --- i am sure there are more, if there is anything important you want me to add let me know

smut warnings; unprotected sex (birth control mentioned), creampie, fingering, oral (f receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), multiple orgasm, lots of pet names, marriage kink, seungcheol carries the reader and is larger than the reader, manhandling, shower sex...again if I miss something let me know.

w/c; 25.2k and some change (623 extra words for patreon bonus) [1.1k this teaser]

svthub world tour masterlist

a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading for me once again, i love you so so much. i really hope you guys enjoy my little addition to the svthub world tour and those on tumblr will join me in Barcelona for the bonus 💕

this fic will be released 7/15 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

Forcing a smile on your face after a long day, you stand up as the bell rings and parents start to move into the room to collect their children. Taking your time, you note each one, telling them to have a good evening and that you will see them in the morning. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed your day, but you could feel a headache behind your eyes and fifteen screaming five year olds was a lot for anyone. So as the numbers started to dwindle, you could feel the anxiety starting to fade from you. 

“Hey, buddy!” 

Glancing up as Matthew squeals happily, you watch him run towards a slender but fit man that you vaguely recognize. Perhaps he had been on Seungcheol’s walls in one of the pictures, but you didn’t have a name to put—

“Uncle Jeonghan!”

Ah, so this was Uncle Jeonghan that Matthew talked about so much. Picking up your clipboard, you furrow your brows, moving over to him and the man as you quickly make sure the man’s name is listed as someone authorized to pick up. 

“Have a good day? This must be Miss Y/N that your daddy talks about all the time.” 

Lifting your head from the clipboard, you meet the man’s eyes as your cheeks start to burn. Opening your mouth, you close it quickly as he smirks at you and ruffles the boy's head as he clings close to him. 

“I—Yoon Jeonghan? If you could just sign for Matthew, since you're not his legal guardian and only listed as an authorized person, it’s policy.” 

Taking the clipboard from you, Jeonghan grins as you seem to shy away at his words. He could see the appeal. You were beautiful and seemed responsible. You were exactly Seungcheol’s type. 

“No problem; Y/N. Cheol had to work in the ER today so here I am to save the day. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just ask you to bring him home.” 

Scoffing in surprise, you watch as Matthew gasps and looks up at you like a new toy. 

“That’d be so cool! Miss Y/N, can you one day? I can show you my toys.” 

Not wanting to disappoint the boy, you give him a strained smile and meet Jeonghan’s eyes, realizing he was an enabler. Seungcheol should have warned you about him, but maybe he didn’t even realize how your first meeting with him would go. 

“Maybe… I’m your teacher, Matthew. We play at school—” 

“Well and his neighbor and his daddy’s girl—” 

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan bites his lip to stifle a laugh before nodding and holding up his free hand as a way of surrendering. Apparently Seungcheol had shared some details of your “relationship” with his friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but you had a feeling this man was the type to pull you out and back into the spotlight. 

“Maybe one day, Matthew... but let’s not get our hopes up.” 

Pouting up at you, Matthew just nods and moves away from you both to go get his things. Letting out a breath, you take back your clipboard and put it down on a shelf behind you as you and Jeonghan glance towards the small boy as he pulls on his jacket. 

“He’d let you take him home.” 

Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Jeonghan and shift on your feet at his words and the implication behind them. Noticing how you seem to nervously shift from foot to foot, Jeonghan smirks and glances down at his phone in his hand, answering a text from Seungcheol as he speaks to you. 

“One day he’ll man up and ask you out for real. This fake dating shit—” 

“Don’t curse in my classroom, please.” 

A laugh slips from between his lips as he glances up from his phone to offer you an apologetic smile before nodding and continuing. 

“Sure, sorry. As I was saying, this fake dating nonsense you two have going on right now isn't going to work. I can already tell you like him.” 

Insufferable. That's how you’d describe Yoon Jeonghan. You had known him for less than ten minutes and already you knew he was going to be an issue in your life. Crossing your arms, you start to sigh into your words, a dramatic big breath, when Alex’s voice once again ruins your moment. 

“Matt, buddy, let me help.” 

Jeonghan watches as your head moves like prey sensing a predator towards the other teacher, who was now helping Matthew with his bag. His eyes move to his godson’s face as he grimaces as the man tugs on the straps, keeping them tight on his arms. 

“He’s fine, Mr. Alex. Thank you.” 

You still sounded like yourself, with that sweet tone to your voice, but even Jeonghan could hear the hint of malice behind it. So this was Alex, and now Alex thought it was okay to mess with Seungcheol’s son. The “fake” dating made sense. This man did not understand boundaries and used everything in front of him as an open door. 

Stepping in front of Alex, you smile at Matthew and the smile transfers to the boy’s face. Jeonghan feels relief wash over him at the sight as you kneel down, adjust the straps back to where they were and then tie his shoe properly. 

“I was just helping out a student, Miss Y/N.” 

Oof… There was so much tension in this room that even Jeonghan felt like he was going to drown in it. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and offers his hand towards Matthew, letting him take his fingers. 

“And while I’m sure she appreciates that, and the parents do... I don’t know you, Mr. Alex, was it? From where I was standing, some strange man was touching my godson, which honestly made me nervous for a moment. I’d be more careful; this isn’t your classroom.” 

Standing up, you feel your cheeks burn under Alex’s eyes as he looks to you to defend him, but you don’t. Jeonghan had a point. Not every parent or guardian knew who all the teachers were, not even the students knew the other teachers. Simple acts could be misunderstood and while he was doing something to “be nice” and it was innocent, you knew there was another reason he was inserting himself into your and Matthew’s lives. 

“Well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding. My classroom is right down the hall. I was just coming to see Miss Y/N. We are very close.” 

Jeonghan just smirks at the man and shoots you a glance before looking at his phone and seeing a reply from Seungcheol. 

“I’m sure you are.” Dismissing the man, he looks at you and smiles brightly. “Y/N, dear… Cheol asked me if you wouldn’t mind helping me with Matthew once you get home? I’m an awful cook.” 

Opening his mouth to say something, Alex stops when Matthew squeals with delight and grabs at your shirt, begging you to come over. 

Another point to you and Seungcheol. 

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[jinwoosbabyboo]

Him or Me?

LADS Men getting jealous over your latest hyper fixation. [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

Who: Keigo Takami (Hawks) - My Hero Academia & Sanemi Shinazugawa - Demon Slayer

Zayne: You received another package today?

MC: Ahh my figurines!

You tear the box open in excitement while Zayne watches.

Zayne: You have quite a few figures of that red winged character

MC: He's my favorite

Zayne: He's your ... favorite?

MC: My favorite character from my hero academia yes

Zayne: and who is the bug eye'd one?

MC: Don't call him bug eyed

Zayne: Defending him now?

MC: His name is Sanemi he has a bit of a temper but he's really a sweetheart

Zayne: and he's also from your hero show?

MC: No he's from demon slayer

Zayne: Oh

MC: These two are definitely my top 5

Zayne: So there's a list

MC: A mental list

Zayne: Who is on this mental list

MC: Well number one is my red ear'd jealous boyfriend who's trying to hide the fact that he's jealous of these 2D characters

Zayne: I'm not jealous

You stand grabbing your figurines boxes as you move around him heading towards your room to build them.

MC: Sure *Kisses his cheek* jealousy is cute on you but don't worry no one can take me from you

Rafayel

Who: Trafalgar D. Law - One Piece & Itsuomi - A Sign of Affection

MC: Raf have you seen my sketch book?

Rafayel: *Avoiding eye contact* Nope

MC: Did you do something with it?

Rafayel: Nope

MC: Found it. Why was it under the couch?

Rafayel: You're a silly girl with a bad memory

MC: RAF!

Rafayel: What!?

MC: I'm missing like four pages in here!

Rafayel: Have you tried not missing them?

MC: Very funny ... coincidentally its only the sketches of Law & Itsuomi

Rafayel: Why do you need to draw that taffy guy and umami dude? Draw meeeee I'm your boyfriend

MC: I've already drawn you before

Rafayel: I only had one page in your book they each had two that's not fair *pouts*

MC: You're such a baby if I give you a second page can you stop ripping up my hardwork?

Rafayel: Make it four pages and you have a deal

Xavier

Who: Kento Nanami - Jujutsu Kaisen & Vash - Trigun

MC: Xav?

Xavier: yes my love

MC: Would you like to explain what happened to my Nanami plushie?

Xavier: I don't know what you're talking about

MC: He has mysteriously gone missing

Xavier: Are you sure you searched everywhere? You did work sixteen hours yesterday It's common to misplace items when you're tired

MC: I don't know I never move him from the shelf .... have you seen him?

Xavier: I haven't sorry

MC: Interesting ... my phone case with Vash is also missing

Xavier: You seem quite smitten with those two lately do you like them more than me?

MC: Xavier they're 2D animations they'll never be better than you

Xavier: Promise?

MC: I put it on my pinky

Xavier: 🥰

MC: Can I have my phone case and plushie now?

Xavier: Absolutely not

Sylus

Who: Sung Jinwoo - Solo Leveling & Shinichiro Sano - Tokyo Revengers

Sylus: What's so great about that show that you need to go to four different stores to get the entire book collection?

MC: I tried to get you to watch Solo Leveling with me

Sylus: I'm a busy man princess

MC: I think you'd really like it Jinwoo looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll but could still kill you

Sylus: Are you implying that me and this 2D man are similar?

MC: Hell no you look like you can kill and could kill ... you're only a cinnamon roll for me

Sylus: How perceptive ... and what book is that

MC: It's a manga get it right ... its Tokyo Revengers I'm still waiting on the next season but I need to know what happens because I need to see Shinichiro

Sylus: Who is Shin and why do you need to see him eat a cheerio?

MC: Not Shin eat a cheerio ... Shinichiro Sano aka the weak king

Sylus: How can you be a king and be weak?

MC: Those around you are strong

Sylus: Sounds like a kingdom waiting to fall ... are you almost done?

MC: What's with the curt tone?

Sylus: No reason we just have dinner reservations soon princess

MC: That's in five hours

Sylus: *Grabs the stack of books from MCs hands* My how time flies lets go