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#and more importantly. youre embarrassing me
zu8her · 3 days
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𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰 | ℭ𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔬
✧・゚𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘 — library sex with college!choso
✧・゚𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘 — library because i have a weird fetish ⋆ plot HEAVY ⋆ msub Choso ⋆ chiches are involved ⋆ feral choso ⋆ reader is called mommy ⋆ choso gets called a good boy ⋆ they be fuckin’ ⋆ reader are thick ⋆ msub but slight manhandling ⋆ cum a lot of it
✧・゚𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 — this for my 160 followers thank you :’( ⋆ apologies for not posting consistently ⋆ wanted to try writing like for awhile tell me what you think pls
✧・゚𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 — 2.3 K (porn with plot)
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Quiet stares. Long silent lingering stares. That’s how this started. With him on his knees and you pulling him closer to your cunt by his tie.
You met him in the library, first semester. You were taking a book off the rack and you caught a glimpse of him on the other side. Dark hair semi-messily tied, slight bags or eye-shadow under his hooded eyes and a black scar across his nose. As he walked by he saw you in his peripheral. A simple glance. He caught a glimpse of you too. He’s hot. You noted nonchalantly and continued to flip through an old book.
The next day, he was at the library again. You took a seat a table away for him, making a minimal attempt to see what he’s working on, to no avail. He looked up for a moment as you sat down then placed his eyes back on his computer. Later regularly glancing up as you worked or got up to get a book or pick up something that fell off your table, averting his gaze when he unintentionally caught sight of your arse. You two sat for hours, silently doing you work before the librarian had to ask you two to leave because it had gotten late. As you both walked out, you went about your merry way. You to your dorm and him to his apartment near campus.
You returned to the library, as you found it was the best place to study in peace. A working air-con, silence, working wifi, information a walk away and a stranger that does not bother you. Your stranger seemed to agree because he was here again. Although he came later than the last few times. Settling your things down you went back scouring for books. When you returned to your table, he was there. You exchanged a slight nod and did your work. It was a bit awkward as you gave a usual familiar nod which he misinterpreted and gave an informal bow but progress was made.
As weeks went by your interactions became more frequent. Limited to the Library unfortunately but it worked that way. He grew on you. The sort of comfort of knowing someone is always there without fail. Walking into the library after a long lecture or escaping your noisy dorm or just the yearning to see him just brought you to this library of tranquillity, and most importantly, to him. You’d exchange nods. Staring at you till you looked at him and nodded. He would walk past you looking for books. Leaning over if you were in the way of the book he wanted. “Excuse me, can I?” “oh, sorry. Sure.”
Eventually, he greeted you. Verbally. It was another gruelling day. Dealing with insulting comments and bad grades. With a stressing sigh you took your seat and laid on your arms. He wasn’t in his seat but his bag was leaning against his chair. As he walked past you, back to his seat he muttered a “Hi”. It was in a low tone. Certain you did not hear him, you lifted your head in surprise. “Hey,” you muttered back with a soft smile.
The quiet stares became more… intense. You’d steal glances at him, he would do the same but neither of you knew until he caught you staring. The first time you got caught you were so tired at staring at your computer you averted your eyes to him, typing on his computer. With your had cupping your face and leaning against the table you absent-mindedly just stared at him for a few minutes. There was this awkward tension when you made eye contact. You immediately lowered your eyes as your cheeks tingled with embarrassment.
Eventually, you didn’t care. Neither did he because you’d catch him too. As you got up to get a book that happened to be in the aisle he had a clear view of you and when you simply worked.
The closest you got was in the narrow path of an aisle. He’d purposefully reach for a book near you and as he gently moved you aside he’d gently put his hand on your back, you’d feel his fingers graze your shoulder or his warmth at your back. Once, you got close enough to smell him. It was purely by accident of course. You were in a rush to get to your table and took as short-cut through an aisle and bumped into him. He did not smell of strong cologne or anything- just him and the soap he uses, it smelt good. He then politely apologised and went to talk to the librarian. He smelt you too of course, by pure coincidence. You smelt good. On occasion like a certain perfume but his favourite is when you smell like you. Just yourself nothing more. It was weirdly arousing.
There was a day where you finally struck up a conversation. You had just sat down and as he walked past he momentarily slowed when he walked past you and you felt his eyes on you before he sat down. His eyes still lingered for a few moments almost anxiously looking down then up at you. Eventually, he stood up but instead of walking to an aisle or past you he stood before your table. Slowly you looked up at him with a smile which he returned. “Uhm…”
“Yeah?”
“There is-” He pointed at your cloud of hair. You immediately reached up gently feeling through your hair. “Uhh no, there- ah…” He cautiously reached out, as you lowered your hand and sat as still as possible, pulling a cherry blossom from your hair. Barely feeling him do so. You watched his hand as he showed you the cherry blossom. You mouthed a thank you. “You can keep it,” you jokily suggested. With a nod he went back to his seat and placed the flower gently at the corner of the table. The next day, you tried a hand in having a conversation that ended up to be slightly awkward at first but good in the end.
He has brothers and lives with one of them currently. You recommended books he should read. He is a history major. Talked about school. Why you transferred here and a myriad of other stuff. An important piece of information you strategically snuffed out is that he was single. A man with his… godly features, single? Miracles do happen.
There was a day he didn’t come at all. His seat was empty. You arrived at 4pm and he usually comes the same time but he did not show.You kept glancing up at his seat or looking over at the entrance but nothing. You waited, occasionally looking at your watch then at the entrance. From 16:18 to 17:47 to 18:34 to 20:12. Giving up you went to go check out your books. There was no one at the counter and you heard someone working in the back so you rang the little bell. Low and behold your staring stranger walks up to the counter taking off peculiar gloves and greeting you with a smile. On his apron a little badge. ‘Librarian - Choso’.
“Hey,” you greeted back. “You’re the librarian now?”
“Yeah, just night shifts though.”
“Is it because we stay here till late?” You asked. He chuckled. It erupted a burst of arousal. You stared at him for a moment, your eyes travelling to his arms wrapped in a tight black shirt. Jesus.
“Yeah, uhm I didn’t catch your name?”
“y/n, and you are Choso,” you point at his badge. He nods in agreement, scanning your books. “You’re leaving now?”
“Uhm? No,” you lie. “Just wanted to get these checked out before I forget again.”
That night you stayed until he closed at 22:30 exactly. You did so on the days he worked the night shift. Tuesday, Thursday and Monday. One particular day, you were going on about a hyper-fixation of yours. Sitting at the counter facing him as he fixed the books in the back listening, only interjecting to ask question or the regular nod or sound of intrigue or understanding. You were so into the conversation that you did not realise that he walked you to your dorm. Like across campus, into the building, up the stairs because of course the elevator was broken again, to your door.
He stood a moment as you realised smiling and reassuring you that it was no problem as you tired to apologise. “Well. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a goodnight.” “You too.” You shouted across the hallway. He smiled giving you a quick glance as you walked into your dorm room before making his way home.
You two grew closer. Literally. Continuing the cycle of touches. You would call him because you couldn’t reach a books and to get past you to the book, he would move you aside or manoeuvre past you by your waist, gently. There was a day you were stubborn would be word and decided to reach for a book on top. It was late and Choso was busy you did not want to bother him. The plan was a successful failure as you got the book but the entire book case was tipping over. Swiftly Choso ran in front of you. With his back he held the bookcase up preventing it from falling on top of you. He was so close you could feel his deep breathes on your skin. His head was hung low and his hair fell over his face.
Quickly you helped him push the bookcase back into place and pick up the books that fell off. Some books got damaged and you helped carry them to the back. Which is actually a small room that leads to larger room.  
The room was dimly lit, and moderately cool. You took in the room sitting top the table next to him as she replaced a books damaged spine. You fiddled with his hoddie’s laces spread on your legs to cover you as you are wearing skirt and to warm you. Your gaze quickly travelled from his hands meticulously repairing the book to his toned forearms and finally to hair falling across his face.
“So you stare at me a lot,” you blurt out.
Taking a moment to gaze up at you in question, you also stare with a slight smirk. “You do too.”
“Well, it’s because your beautiful.”
He chuckles. “Same.”
“It’s not the same tho.”
“How?” He settles down the book and places his attention solely on you.
“What do you think when you stare at me?”
“That your gorgeous,”
“Really?” You pull him towards you, in between your thighs. “Be honest.” Gazing up at you then your hands placing his hoddie to the side, catching a glimpse of your underwear. “That I want to fuck you against the book case.” he confesses in a low tone gazing up at you as your hand cup his chin. “What  do you think when you stare at me?” He asks in return.
“Me riding your thighs as you study. What are you thinking right now?”
“You sitting on my face.” He answers reaching inside your skirt to pull down your underwear. You lift a little for him to slide them off. Spreading your thick thighs and pulling up you’re your skirt you give him a view of your cunt. Giving you a quick glance he grabs you by your hips and scoots you closer. With a little kiss on your clit her, he rolls his tongue over your hairy pussy almost groaning when his tongue reached your entrance. You rock your cunt into his mouth stroking his hair.
Cumming you held tightly onto his hair. Grinding your pussy on his tongue then yanking his head away from your pussy. He looks up at you, his mouth drenched in your slick and a gaze silently pleading for more. You both know he could easily break from your hold, pin you down and fuck you on the table but he lets you hold him like this. Pulling him up you kiss, helping him take of his apron and trousers. Choso gasps against you as his cock slides into your wet cunt.
You smirk as he desperately ruts into you. His hands around your waist as you kiss his neck. “You feel so good.” He moans against your ear. “I’m cumming.” he whines quickly pulling out and cumming on the inner thigh. “Choso,” you gently cup his face. “You’re going to clean that up.”
“I will. I just need more.” he whines swiftly laying you on the lounge couch.
With your back against his chest he lifts one of your legs. Fucking his cock with your thighs near you pussy, feeling his cock graze your clit before pushing inside you. As he fucks his cock into you he unbuttons your blouse and grabs a hand full of your tits. “Mommy,” he absentmindedly mutters. “I’m sorry, I should not-” “It’s fine, Choso. Just go faster.” “Like this,” his deep voice breathes. Flipping you on your stomach he fucks his cock as he sits on your arse. You cum as he bottoms out in your cunt but he continues this times making you sit on his cock you back still against his chest as he rams his cock into you. Your thighs shaking, and him rubbing your clit you cum on his cock again. “Choso st-stop.” His thrusts halt and he hard cock springs out covered with you slick.
With you pussy at the base of his big cock, you grind onto it will stroking his cock. Watching his dick twitch and precum leak from his pretty tip. “You want to cum for me.” He nods wrapping his arms around your waist. “Then cum for Mommy.” He bites down on your shoulder and shoots ropes of cum on the floor and coffee table . “Good boy,” you praise stroking his cock as the last bit of cum leak out and come out in short spurts that land on your hand and belly.
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What are the benefits of having cameras in your girls homes?
I’ve probably answered this before, but whatever. Here’s the summary: LDRs suck, especially for submissive girls.
Now to be more precise…
Did she fall asleep on the couch or put herself to bed? Did she clean up the kitchen after dinner? Is she working or scrolling? Did she remember to do the laundry, because she’s got that thing tomorrow? How’s she gonna decide which boots to return? How’s she supposed to get back to sleep after a nightmare if someone isn’t watching for monsters coming down the hall? The answer to all these questions involves me opening a camera app and checking on her.
Don’t underestimate the value of presence. The camera’s speaker allows me to independently project my voice into her space. She doesn’t have to open an app or press a button or take any volitional action… I’m just there, hanging in the air. Just as importantly, I get to see the secret smiles and unexpected tears and awkward moments as if I were a fixture around the house… I know the faces she makes when she’s making faces just for herself.
It makes a girl feel safe. Ninety-five percent of the time, I’m like a dad poking his head in the door of his daughter’s bedroom, just to check on her and say “good job” or “good night”. Granted, the other five percent of the time I’m still like a dad poking his head in the door of his daughter’s bedroom, only now there’s some… lingering. And pantslessness. The point is, she doesn’t feel alone.
Safe… except when I startle her by suddenly speaking when she doesn’t know I’m looking. The reactions range from the classic deer-in-headlights, to horrified embarrassment, to some straight up Bugs Bunny shit… she leaps up, arms splayed in a panicked parody of self-defense, her hair standing on end, and she proceeds to hover in mid-air for longer than the laws of physics allow before collapsing like a sack of potatoes on the floor. (And then has the gall to wonder why I don’t take her seriously as an adult. You’re a fucking cartoon, you little freak.)
I don’t have to ask if she’s been going to the gym.
Seeing her face light up when she gets a message from you is one of the best “I love you”s that one can receive.
I’m a cheap pet-sitter and occasional alarm clock.
No, you are not going out dressed like that, young lady.
I could go on for a while… there’s a lot.
It feels like a hug when you’re far away. That’s the gist.
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irrigos · 2 years
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"no, you dont understand! it makes perfect sense that everyone is really thin!! if there were a fat character in the game where an entire Victorian city got transported underground by space bats, well, it would break my suspension of disbelief!!!1!"
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babygirlgiles · 5 months
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just finished a 30k draft of a fic about haymitch fucking abernathy. can someone please euthanize me?
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voidcoretxt · 18 days
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the word misanthrope has been almost resonating with me lately in some way? its really got me thinking about. like. the Everything about me.
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quotesfrommyreading · 10 months
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When I’m out with Deaf friends, I put my hearing aid in my purse. It removes any ability to hear, but far more importantly, it removes the ambiguity that often haunts me.
In a restaurant, we point to the menu and gesture with the wait staff. The servers taking the order respond with gestures too. They pantomime “drinks?” and tell us they learned a bit of signs in kindergarten. Looking a little embarrassed, they sign “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day” in the middle of asking our salad dressing choice. We smile and gently redirect them to the menu. My friends are pros at this routine and ordering is easy ― delightful even. The contrast with how it feels to be out with my hearing husband is stunning.
Once my friends and I have ordered, we sign up a storm, talking about everything and shy about nothing. What would be the point? People are staring anyway. Our language is lavish, our faces alive. My friends discuss the food, but for me, the food is unimportant. I’m feasting on the smorgasbord of communication ― the luxury of chatting in a language that I not only understand 100% but that is a pleasure in and of itself. Taking nothing for granted, I bask in it all, and everything goes swimmingly.
Until I accidentally say the word “soup” out loud.
Pointing at the menu, I let the word slip out to the server. And our delightful meal goes straight downhill. Suddenly, the wait staff’s mouths start flapping; the beautiful, reaching, visual parts of their brains go dead, as if switched off.
“Whadda payu dictorom danu?” the server’s mouth seems to say. “Buddica taluca mariney?”
“No, I��m Deaf,” I say. A friend taps the server and, pointing to her coffee, pantomimes milking a cow. But the damage is done. The server has moved to stand next to me and, with laser-focus, looks only at me. Her pen at the ready, her mouth moves like a fish. With stunning speed, the beauty of the previous interactions ― the pantomiming, the pointing, the cooperative taking of our order ― has disappeared. “Duwanaa disser wida coffee anmik? Or widabeeaw fayuh-mow?”
Austin “Awti” Andrews (who’s a child of Deaf adults, often written as CODA) describes a similar situation.
“Everything was going so well,” he says. “The waiter was gesturing, it was terrific. And then I just said one word, and pow!! It’s like a bullet of stupidity shot straight into the waiter’s head,” he explains by signing a bullet in slow motion, zipping through the air and hitting the waiter’s forehead. Powwwww.
Hearing people might be shocked by this, but Deaf people laugh uproariously, cathartically.
“Damn! All I did was say one word!” I say to my friends. “But why do you do that?” they ask, looking at me with consternation and pity. “Why don’t you just turn your voice off, for once and for all?” they say.
Hearing people would probably think I’m the lucky one ― the success story ― because I can talk. But I agree with my friends.
  —  I'm Deaf And I Have 'Perfect' Speech. Here's Why It's Actually A Nightmare.
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werecreature-addicted · 4 months
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Werewolf bf that almost cums in his pants when his human gf playfully bites his neck, not yet aware of werewolf mating and marking
You're sitting in his lap slowly grinding against your werewolf boyfriend's half-hard cock as you make out. his big hands circle your waist guiding your movements, back and forth along his lap steadily.
He can smell in the air your arousal as you get worked up. it's hot knowing how much you enjoy this as much as he is. the two of you break apart, gasping for air. You don't stay parted for long before you're leaning into him again, this time kissing his jaw and down his neck.
Your werewolf lover groans in pleasure and almost unthinkingly bares his neck to you, letting you have more of his warm skin. Every time you suck on his skin you can feel him shudder, and buck his hips up against yours. you're sure that you've left a hickey or two already but you decide to tease him a little more, scraping your teeth along his neck teasingly before biting him properly.
He moans brokenly and thrusts his hips up against yours sharply, then you feel a wet patch forming between your legs right where his cock is,
"did you just-" you both start at the same time
"did you just mark me?" he asks.
"did you just cum?" you demand.
He tells you that yes he did cum- but way more importantly you bit his neck, which is apparently a werewolf costume of how they mark their mates. He's not upset just shocked, and a little embarrassed because he came in his sweats.
it feels like his blood is on fire. the mark doesn't last, not like a real bound mark would have, but it still has him all riled up. He wants you to bite him, he wants to bite you, and he wants to fuck you and cum inside of you this time.
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starryhyuck · 4 months
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pairing: ex!jaehyun x afab!reader
words: 9.2k+
summary: you left with jaehyun’s son three years ago. an opportunity arises that may push you together for better or for worse.
genre: angst, fluff, smut
warnings: penetrative sex, rough sex, public sex, daddy kink, pussy eating, cum eating, creampies, breeding kink, spanking, possessiveness, some yandere vibes
“Got yourself all dressed for dad?”
Your five-year-old son hums happily, thumbs looped through his backpack straps like he’s afraid it’s going to run away from him. You smile and comb your hands through his hair, slightly frightened by how fast he’s growing.
The knock on the door takes you out of your head before you can dwindle on how your son is slipping away from you. You smile at Jaehyun behind the door, who offers a tight-lipped one in return.
You kneel down once more and tap on your cheek. “Give me a kiss before you leave, sprout.”
Your son giggles before planting a messy kiss on your cheek, wrapping his tiny arms around your neck.
“Bye, mom! I love you!” He practically hops away from you in excitement, running into his dad’s arms with pure joy.
You nod politely at your ex, who wraps his arms around your son and holds him to his chest.
“Hey, little bear. Missed you,” Jaehyun laughs, kissing your son’s forehead.
“I missed you too, dad!”
You clear your throat. “Do you want me to come pick him up on Sunday?”
Jaehyun’s eyes return to you, cold and distant like they have been for the past three years. “I could drop him off, it’s no issue. I canceled all my meetings on Sunday.” You wonder if he’s trying to imply something, as if the time taken off means anything to you.
You brush it off. “Sounds good. Be good to your dad,” you give a final warning to your son, who does nothing but wave his hand in return.
You’re about to close the door until Jaehyun quietly speaks up. “I needed to ask you something.”
You ignore the loud sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You simply nod, urging him to continue. He clears his throat, feeling a bit awkward as your son impatiently waits for his dad to take him to his other house. It’s rare for Jaehyun to linger around like this.
“My parents — they’re having that annual anniversary party again in Seoul. They asked me to invite you.”
You’re surprised, to say the least. You haven’t been invited to an anniversary party since you and Jaehyun separated. His family was extremely heartbroken when you left and as a result, you haven’t communicated with them since. The anniversary party, however, was a huge celebration in the Jeong family. It was a mark of success since Jeong Corporation opened almost twenty years ago, and the company has now founded themselves as one of the largest in Seoul.
“Um,” you stutter, unsure of what to say. You understood what the anniversary party implied — one whole weekend with your former second family and more importantly, Jaehyun.
“Don’t- You don’t have to make a decision now. You can tell me on Sunday if you’re ready.”
You nod reluctantly, and he sends you another tight-lipped smile before departing. You watch as he and your son drive away, leaving a hole in your heart as they go.
“No way. He wants to fuck you again!”
“Johnny!” You scold, feeling extremely embarrassed already. “He is not! He’s just trying to be a good son, you know how he is.”
Johnny laughs sarcastically. “Yeah fucking right. Dude, it’s the Jeong anniversary party. That shit is photographed like crazy. He knows what he’s doing when he’s inviting you to go with him.”
“He’s not inviting me to go with him,” you clarify for him, even though Johnny is throwing you a side eye as you hand him a cup of warm tea. “He’s just inviting me to attend.”
He rolls his eyes. “Please. He’s been waiting for this moment with you for so long. Especially after you left him like that.”
You swing at Johnny’s arm, causing him to clutch it dramatically and hold the end of your kitchen counter as if you just shot him. You glare at him. Even though it was still a sore subject, he found a way to bring it into conversation from time to time since he thought it was the worst decision you had ever made.
It was three years ago when you left Jaehyun, taking your son and finding a new place all to yourselves. Jaehyun was shocked to say the
least, heartbroken that the love of his life took his child and ran. It obviously wasn’t your first choice, but you spent too long waiting for him to come home only to be disappointed continuously. Jaehyun was just starting to become a big name within the company, wanting to work up the ladder and prove himself to his father and to the public. As a result, he spent most nights sleeping in his office and growing farther apart from you and your son. You reached a point where you couldn’t handle being abandoned any longer, leaving him and giving him his first wake-up call.
Jaehyun, like everyone else, thought you were only playing a game with him at first. No one believed you would actually separate from each other, especially because you two were so in love. However, you decided you needed to do what was right for your son. You couldn’t handle the lonely nights when your son would ask when his dad was coming home.
The custody agreement was simple, and Jaehyun agreed to whatever terms you laid out for him. You allowed your son to see Jaehyun every other weekend, and Jaehyun made sure to take work off whenever he had him. He was really trying, which you could see, but it wasn’t enough.
You’re not sure if it’ll ever be enough again.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” you mumble to Johnny, already mentally rejecting the idea of attending the Jeong anniversary party. “I mean, you know us. Our feelings get carried away all the time.”
Johnny frowns. “Are you saying you still have feelings for him?”
You sigh. Johnny has been your number one support system since you left Jaehyun, and despite his help towards adjusting you to a life as a single mother, he always rooted for the two of you to get back together.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say clearly, stirring around the small spoon in your cup. You refuse to look up, knowing he can read you like an open book. “I’m just saying that being together for that long can cause cloudy judgment, you know? Plus, I don’t want anything to become confusing for all parties included.”
He shrugs, knowing you’re mainly talking about your son’s inability to understand why his mom and dad are suddenly spending time together. “I think the little sprout would like to have a weekend with both of his parents. He hasn’t had that since two birthdays ago.”
You recall your son’s third birthday party, which was the first festivity after the split. You awkwardly invited Jaehyun to come since you felt obligated, but it only resulted in tension while cutting the cake and opening presents.
“I know,” you whisper, feeling down. Your son asks you from time to time why his dad doesn’t stay when Jaehyun drops him off after a weekend together, and it always breaks your heart when you have to gently explain that his dad has work to attend to. Seeing the dejected look on your son’s face reminds you why you decided to leave in the first place. “But don’t you think it’s weird? Why would his family even want to see me again? I thought they hated me for leaving Jaehyun.”
“Yeah right,” Johnny laughs. “You saw the headlines after you guys split. Jaehyun started fighting so often with his parents. You know they loved you to death.”
“That might have been true before. I’m still the bitch who stomped all over their son’s heart and took their grandson away.”
“Hey,” Johnny scolds, hating when you speak lowly of yourself. “Anyone with eyes could see he was treating you miserably. It was completely fair for you to have temporary space.”
You ignore the fact that he implies the separation is still temporary.
“I’m just not sure, John. I don’t think it’s a smart idea.”
“Well, I think it’s a great one,” he smiles, brushing off your heated glare. “Listen, you can’t keep ignoring him like he’s the plague. If you don’t want the little sprout to have daddy issues when he’s older, you need to start getting along with Jae better. Just act civil, that’s all anyone’s asking of you.”
You chew on your bottom lip. “Will you come get me if I text you?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Your shoulders eventually slump in defeat, and Johnny throws his arms up in victory.
You’re extremely anxious when Sunday afternoon arrives, which is usually when Jaehyun comes by to bring your son back. You try to shake the nerves out and remind yourself to do what Johnny told you.
Just be civil. You can do that.
You nearly jump out of your socks when Jaehyun finally knocks on the door. You shakily open it, offering him a small smile as your son comes barging through. He attaches himself to your leg, grinning widely as he waves a new coloring book in his hand.
“Look what dad got me!”
“Wow,” you speak incredulously, kneeling down to give him a kiss. “That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?”
“Yes!” He exclaims with glee. “Can I go color, please?”
You laugh. “Give your father a kiss goodbye first, sprout.”
Your son hurriedly kisses his father’s cheek when Jaehyun leans down, rushing off to his room afterwards.
You chuckle again. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”
Jaehyun hums. “Of course. He really wanted it, and I wanted to do something special for him.”
You nod and the conversation settles into unbearable silence. You start gathering the courage to accept Jaehyun’s invitation before you wimp out but he talks before you can get the chance.
“Listen, about what I said on Friday, you can forget about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t want you to feel obligated, I just knew if I didn’t pass along the message, I would get hit on sight.”
You smile, thinking about how dangerous his mother could be when her son disobeys. “No, it’s completely fine. I mean, if it’s still okay with you, I would like to go.”
His eyes light up in surprise, and it’s the first time Jaehyun’s let his guard down with you in a while.
“Really? I didn’t think you’d want to.”
You shrug. “I think it would be nice. I’m sure the little sprout would enjoy a weekend with both of his parents too.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling genuinely. You forgot how much you missed seeing him so happy, dimples peeking out. “I know he would. He was talking about how excited he was today, getting dressed in a little suit and everything.”
Your heart warms at the thought of your son dressed so handsomely. “He would be adorable. Center of the party, I’m sure.”
“Of course. You know my mother never misses a chance to show him off,” he chuckles.
“Well, I look forward to seeing what they’re going to try and pull off this year. I’m assuming your mother is making it as lavish as possible,” you joke, knowing how elated his mother was when the Jeong Corporation finally gained enough funding to throw a large-scale party.
“You know it,” he agrees, eyes sparkling in the way they used to. “I could, um, I could give you more details if you’d like.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling slightly flushed. “Sure, that sounds nice.” You open the door wider for him, stepping back so he can come inside.
It’s the first time you’ve really invited Jaehyun in. He came once for your son’s birthday party and a few other times because your son really wanted to show Jaehyun some toys from his room, but never once fully initiated by you.
“Can I heat up some coffee or tea for you?” You ask politely.
“Coffee would be wonderful, thank you,” he says, following you to the kitchen.
He takes a seat on one of the kitchen stools — the same spot where Johnny told you that Jaehyun clearly wanted to fuck you again. You clear your throat, tossing the memory aside.
“So, is there a dress code for the party? Do I need to go out and get anything?” You question, starting to brew Jaehyun’s favorite blend. The both of you choose to ignore the fact that you still remember how to make his coffee just the way he likes it.
“They were endorsing a blue and white theme this year, but you don’t have to follow those rules, of course,” he assures you.
You shake your head, turning back to him and smiling. “I will one hundred percent abide by that dress code. You know how picky those businesspeople are.”
He chuckles to himself, fiddling with his fingers nervously. You wonder if he’s just as anxious as you are.
“Right, forgot about that. So I’ll come pick up you and the little bear Friday night?”
You nod. “That would be nice. Thanks, Jaehyun.”
“Of course,” he replies, thanking you when you hand him his coffee. “The party shouldn’t last for more than two to three hours on Saturday, but you know how my father gets with the speeches.”
“He’s just proud, that’s all. It’s not everyday a company you built from the ground turns so successful.”
He nods. “Every company comes with its sacrifices though.”
You swallow at him alluding to your separation. Luckily, you’re saved by your son, who comes running into the kitchen.
“Dad!” He exclaims happily. “You’re still here!”
Jaehyun laughs. “Just having a conversation with your mom, little bear. Did you color something already?”
Your son nods, already eager to showcase his coloring skills. Jaehyun situates him on his lap, listening as your son details the process of what colors he chose and what the monkey is doing exactly in the picture.
You grow fond at the sight, not seeing Jaehyun with your son like this in so long. You never doubted that Jaehyun loved him with his entire heart, you just always wished he made more time for the both of you.
“And who did you color this for, little bear?” Jaehyun asks softly, kissing his son’s temple.
“Mom, of course!” Your son says with certainty, and Jaehyun helps him rip the picture out of the book so he can hand it to you.
“Thank you so much, sprout. I’ll cherish it forever,” you promise, clutching the paper to your chest.
Your son has an affinity for coloring and drawing, and as a result, most of your fridge and walls were covered in his artwork.
“I’ll make one for you too, dad,” your son swears, wiggling out of Jaehyun’s arms until he’s back on the floor. The both of you watch him zoom off, warning him not to run too fast.
Jaehyun smiles. “I should get him those coloring books for adults. I feel like he would love them.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah right. He only enjoys these because they have animals in them. Give him a crazy pattern and he’ll give up coloring forever.”
He laughs before agreeing with you. A part of you missed this — the happy laughter and talks of your son with someone who also wanted the best for him.
“My mother’s set up a private cabin for us for the weekend,” he shares, avoiding your stare. “But I can always have the driver take you and the little bear back here if that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” you say, briefly surprised by the fact that Jaehyun’s mother set all of you together. You would think she wants you as far away from her son as possible.
Jaehyun takes your response badly, face twisting into a grimace. “It’s no problem. I’ll tell Doyoung that you would prefer coming back here instead of staying the weekend.”
“No!” You exclaim, flushing by how loud your voice rose. “I mean, I was just shocked your mother did that for us. I thought she didn’t like me anymore.”
Jaehyun’s eyebrows shot up. “My mother? The same one that wanted to buy us an island when we told her about the pregnancy?”
You chuckle. “That was out of the kindness of her heart, Jaehyun.”
“Please,” he scoffs. He takes the coffee mug you hold out for him. “She loves you more than anything. Nothing between us would change that.”
You smile, ignoring the nerves slowly creeping up every inch of your body.
“Johnny, put that back!”
“Why? It’s sexy!”
You grab one of your throw pillows and chuck it at Johnny’s head. He dodges just in time, rolling his eyes and putting your lingerie back in your drawer.
“I’m just saying, you never know what’s going to happen. You’ll regret it later when you’re trying to fuck Jaehyun and you have nothing but granny panties.”
“I regret asking you to help me pack,” you sigh, trying your best to fit everything you need this weekend for you and your son in a small suitcase.
“I’m going to ignore that comment since I’m willingly giving up my Friday afternoon for you. When was the last time you went shopping?” He asks.
It actually takes you a minute to stop and think about your answer. Ever since your son was born, your wardrobe has mainly consisted of haphazard pajamas. The only time you really went out and purchased clothes is if you were attending one of Jaehyun’s fancy events.
“All of these clothes are way out of season! How have I not noticed this before?” Johnny complains, rifling through your drawers. “We need to go shopping.”
You groan. “It’s too late for that. Jaehyun is picking us up tonight!”
The doorbell rings and you sigh again, massaging your temples in an attempt to make the headache go away. Johnny takes pity on you and answers the front door himself. You hear hushed whispers before he comes back into your bedroom, a smile on his face as he carries a large box in his hands.
Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that?”
“A special delivery from one Mr. Jeong Jaehyun,” Johnny replies, a smirk evident on his lips.
You’re still trying to recover from the shock of Jaehyun sending you anything before you realize Johnny’s ripping open the box. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning and you can’t help but lean over to see it too.
In the box is a beautiful, satin white dress that looks like a red wine lover’s worst nightmare. However, you can barely focus on the color when you can recognize exactly where this dress is from.
“Dude,” Johnny says in a small voice, sounding breathless. “It’s your wedding dress.”
And if this wasn’t your wedding dress — it sure as hell looked a lot like it. You remember the day you picked it out, insisting on going for a modern style instead of a princess ball gown. It was a simple, off-shoulder, stark white dress that you envisioned yourself wearing while walking down the aisle to Jaehyun.
And three years ago, you cried when you donated it to a local thrift store, refusing to continue to store memories of what could’ve been in the back of your closet.
You thought you would never see it again.
“He said the theme was blue and white, right?”
Johnny brings you out of your train of thought. You cough, avoiding his questioning gaze.
“Yeah.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
You narrow your eyes at his suggestive tone. He shrugs.
“I think you’re going to have an interesting trip.”
“Hi, dad!”
“Hi, little bear!”
Your heart melts at the sight of Jaehyun and your son together. Jaehyun’s all smiles while he straps your son into his carseat, dimples peeking out. Once he’s settled, he turns to you as he shuts the car door. You awkwardly step around each other as he helps you with your bags and you slip into the front seat.
The drive to the cabin you’ll be staying at for the weekend is about an hour from your place, which means you have two choices — you could pretend to sleep and avoid speaking to Jaehyun altogether, or you could bite the bullet and make as much small talk as you possibly can.
Jaehyun makes the decision for you.
“So how’s work?”
You muster a smile. “It’s alright. I think I’m going to get promoted soon.”
He laughs. “It’s about time. I’ve never seen anyone else at that company work harder than you.”
You stutter at the compliment. You always forget how charming Jaehyun is, and how easy it is for him to make you feel like a teenager all over again.
You can’t hold back your next question. “Where did you find it? The dress?”
His fingers tighten on the wheel.
“It’s just a dupe I found online.”
But the response sounds too rehearsed. Too practiced. It’s almost like he had been preparing himself for when you would inquire about it.
“Jaehyun,” you whisper, and he knows you can tell that he’s lying.
He sighs, looking through the rearview mirror to check if your son has already drifted off before proceeding. “When you donated it, Doyoung found out and I asked him to buy it back. I know it’s your dream dress, and it’s my fault you never got to wear it. I just wanted you to have a night where you could finally show it off.”
You don’t know why, but you feel tears welling up in your eyes. The idea that Jaehyun kept your dress for you all these years tugged at your heartstrings. If the dress was a reminder to you of your failed relationship, you can’t imagine what he felt when he came across it in his own home every single day.
You turn your head to look out the window so he wouldn’t see your crushed expression.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I did. You deserve at least that, and so much more. For now, unfortunately, this is all I can give you.”
The two of you remain silent for the rest of the trip and you’re relieved when he pulls into the cabin’s driveway. You both fall into a familiar pattern as you get out to grab your son and he heads to the trunk to take out your luggage. You’re careful to unbuckle your son from his carseat in fear of waking him, and you relax when he’s in your arms, still sound asleep.
Jaehyun opens the front door and you marvel at the beauty of the cabin once you’re inside. You’re not surprised in the slightest that Jaehyun’s mother hooked you up with an extremely lavish place for the weekend.
“Upstairs, first door to the right,” Jaehyun whispers, and you realize he’s telling you where your son will be sleeping.
After you’ve tucked him in and made sure he’s out for the night, you tiptoe back downstairs.
Jaehyun looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, fumbling around with the television remote, pacing in front of the entertainment dock.
“So, um, what room will I be in?”
“Oh yeah,” he says uncomfortably, quickly grabbing your luggage. “Let me show you.”
He leads you down a hallway off from the living room, opening one of the many doors and setting your stuff inside.
“Here’s your room. I, um, I’m just across the hall. There’s also another room upstairs if you want to sleep closer to the little bear but it’s a lot smaller and doesn’t have a connecting bathroom so I figured-“
“This is great, Jaehyun. Thank you.”
He clears his throat and nods, quickly shuffling out of the room. He pauses in the entryway as he’s closing the door, something clearly lingering on his mind.
“You don’t have to wear the dress tomorrow, it was inconsiderate of me to assume you would want to. I’ll have Doyoung pick up something different in the morning for you to wear.”
Before you could protest, the door shuts. You sigh and run your hands down your face.
This was going to be a long weekend.
You and Jaehyun barely exchange any words the next day.
As promised, a new, navy blue dress hangs outside your door when you wake up. You fail to confront Jaehyun about it since he spends most of the morning playing with your son at a nearby creek. In all honesty, you want to wear your wedding dress. On the outside, it wasn’t too flashy since you refused to add a train or any embellishments, and it was perfect for a formal event like the anniversary party. On the inside, everything Jaehyun said yesterday was correct — this was your dream dress, and you wanted to just have this one occasion to finally show it off.
You call Johnny before Jaehyun and your son return, and he happily picks up on the second ring.
“Got fucked yet?”
“You’re despicable.”
Johnny’s joyous laughter is grating to your ears.
“It’s so awkward, Johnny. We had this weird conversation about the dress so he had Doyoung get me a new one, but I actually really want to wear my wedding dress. Is that crazy?”
“Nope,” he replies, popping the last syllable for emphasis. “I think you’re just afraid of what wearing the dress means for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
He clicks his tongue, and you can picture him shaking his head at your alleged stupidity. “Think about it. The last time you wore this dress, you were engaged and about to marry the love of your life. Don’t you think wearing it again is going to spark up any old feelings?”
You ponder over the idea for a moment before shaking your head. Johnny was wrong — you just wanted to wear this dress because you liked it. You convince yourself there are no lingering feelings you should be worrying about.
“You’re full of shit.”
“Uh huh. We’ll see about that.”
However, later that night when you slip into the dress, you understand exactly what Johnny was talking about. You used to have vision boards of this dress plastered on your living room walls, picking what flowers and color scheme you wanted to compliment it. You remember Johnny even photoshopping you in this dress next to Jaehyun in his suit, the both of you standing in front of what was supposed to be your dream venue.
The memories come back to you like a tidal wave. Jaehyun planning the perfect dinner for the two of you when you were six months pregnant. Jaehyun proposing to you that night, tears in his eyes as he confessed how much he loved you. Welcoming your son into the world three months later. Trying on the dress again after his birth, worrying your body would look too different. Jaehyun getting the dress re-tailored for you when your insecurities started to affect your daily life. Your son crying night after night while his father stayed late working in his office. Postponing the wedding every year because Jaehyun was too busy. Shoving the dress in the back of your closet because you couldn’t stand to see it any longer. Finally getting the courage to pack up your things and leave, taking the dress with you. Giving it away when you felt like you needed to close this chapter of your life. The chapter where Jaehyun was supposed to be your eternal love.
You don’t even realize you’re crying until the door creaks open.
“Mom, why are you sad?”
You immediately straighten yourself and wipe away your tears, turning to see your son at the door with his head tilted in concern. You laugh when you see his suit is half buttoned.
“I’m not sad, little sprout,” you smile, walking over to him and scooping him in your arms. “I’m so excited for tonight! Look at my handsome boy!”
He giggles when you press kisses to his cheek.
“Mom,” he whines. “Help me!”
You keep your smile on as you help him fix his suit, and you hear the door creak open again when you’re on the last button.
If Jaehyun notices the redness in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Little bear, why don’t you finish your dinner before we head out? Don’t want you getting hungry.”
Your son obediently follows Jaehyun’s orders once you’re finished buttoning his suit, running to the kitchen to eat his meal.
You walk back to the full length mirror in the corner of the room in an attempt to make yourself look as presentable as possible. You can feel his eyes on you, burning a hole in your back.
“You look beautiful.”
You falter, fingers shakily trying to put your earring on. “Thank you.”
“I thought you wanted to wear a different dress.”
“No, I actually want to wear this one.”
“Oh, okay.” A pause. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Jaehyun. Can you make sure Doyoung has coloring books and crayons in the car? In case the little sprout gets bored.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” he nods, and you lock eyes with him in the mirror.
He doesn’t say anything else but you know he’s worried about you. He purses his lips before closing the door, and you sigh in relief when you hear his footsteps fade away.
“Nice to see you again.”
You grin as you envelope Doyoung in a hug. The last time you saw Jaehyun’s assistant was almost three years ago at the last anniversary party you attended. Doyoung had always been a very loyal right-hand man to Jaehyun, and he used to be one of the constants in your life.
“You look gorgeous,” he compliments, his bunny teeth peeking out.
You thank him and he helps you and your son climb into the car, Jaehyun following after. Doyoung takes the driver’s seat and rolls up the partition so you can have some privacy. You wish he would do the opposite and make small talk with you, especially since you could cut the tension between you and Jaehyun with a knife.
Your son is seated between the two of you and he plays a helpful role in the awkward atmosphere. He starts asking Jaehyun questions about the party and who will be there, which Jaehyun answers patiently as your son bombards him with question after question.
You start fiddling with the fabric of your dress, the satin slipping between your fingers. When you look up, you see Jaehyun’s eyes locked on you, and it makes you wonder how differently this picture would have looked years ago.
This car would’ve been driving to your wedding venue with your son as the ring bearer. You would be leaning over to capture every moment of Jaehyun’s lips before you would have to kiss in front of hundreds of guests, a thought that always rattled you. You would have a bouquet of daisies bunched up in your hand, similar to the ones Jaehyun gave you on your first date. You would be scared of your veil tearing, trying your best to make sure your son didn’t accidentally rip it. All while Jaehyun stares at you like you hold the world in your hands, his fingers interlacing with yours to assure you everything would be okay.
You imagine he’s thinking the same as you if the longing in his eyes is anything to go by. But then the car hits a speed bump, forcing you to break eye contact. He returns to answering your son’s questions and you start playing with your dress again.
When you finally arrive at the Jeong Corporation building, you’re immediately greeted by your former mother-in-law.
She wraps you in her arms as soon as you step out of the car, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say she’s trying to strangle you by the sheer force of her strength.
“My favorite daughter!”
You flush at the greeting, remembering it was her favorite nickname for you. You catch Jaehyun carrying your son from the corner of your eye, his ears blooming red from embarrassment.
“Hi, Mrs. Jeong,” you reply, reciprocating her embrace.
She releases you to step back and take a look at your form. She looks exactly the same as she did three years ago, and you feel her manicured hand stroke your cheek.
“Look at you. Still so beautiful.”
You smile, slowly feeling your nerves dissipate. Maybe Johnny was right — maybe Jaehyun’s family didn’t actually hate you, they just missed you.
Her gaze flickers to her grandson, and she coos at him as she takes him from Jaehyun.
“And here’s my strong tiger! So handsome tonight!”
“Grandma!” Your son exclaims happily, chubby hands wrapping around her neck.
She gestures for you and Jaehyun to follow her inside the building as she begins walking. You share a glance with him before coming to a silent agreement, looping your arm through his in an attempt to show solidarity. You ignore the ache in your feet and the thumping of your heart, keeping your eyes trained on Jaehyun’s mom animatedly speaking to your son. She guides you to the conference room on the main floor, where the party is being held.
She turns to you once you’re at the entrance. “I’m going to take him to meet Yoojin, she’s been begging to meet my grandson. And don’t you two worry, I’ll take him back with us when the party’s over. He needs to spend some quality time with his grandparents! Have a fun night together!”
And before you can protest, she’s disappeared into the crowd, taking your son along for the ride.
Jaehyun curses. “I’m sorry. Let me catch her and let her know we want him to come back to the cabin with us.”
You stop him with a firm tug on his arm. He stares at you in confusion.
“It’s okay, let her take him. She’s right — he hasn’t had quality time with his grandparents for a while.”
He slowly nods and slips his arm back through yours. You both don’t know where to begin for the night now that your conversation helper is gone. The first stop you choose is the open bar while Jaehyun starts his formal thank you parade around the floor. You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
You turn to see Seulgi, who is practically beaming at you.
“I was wondering if it was you!” She giggles and hugs you tightly.
Seulgi worked as head of marketing for Jeong Corporation, and you used to chat with her quite a lot whenever you visited Jaehyun in the office.
“I can’t believe you’re here, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she hums, sitting on the barstool next to you. She tells the bartender her order before focusing back on you. “How have you been?”
“I’m good,” you chuckle, a little floored by her presence. You forgot that attending this party meant you would also be running into all of Jaehyun’s colleagues that you used to be friendly with. “How have you been?”
She huffs. “Swamped with work, but this party is always a nice change of pace. Did you come with Jaehyun?”
You also remember how Seulgi doesn’t beat around the bush.
“Yes, I came with him and our son.”
“Oh, I have to see him before I leave. I bet he’s all grown up now,” she murmurs. “So you’re all back together then?”
“No, no,” you deny, thanking the bartender when your drink arrives. “Jaehyun just invited me as a plus one this year. Or plus two, I guess.”
She hums noncommittally, throwing a mischievous side eye. Actually, in this moment, you realize how much she resembles Johnny.
You feel a hand graze your back. You look up to see Jaehyun, who’s throwing a timid smile in Seulgi’s direction.
“Sorry, can I steal her for a bit?”
Seulgi smirks knowingly. “You can have her for as long as you need, Mr. Jeong.”
His eyes narrow at her before he’s leading you away from the bar, his hand still sitting firmly on your lower back.
“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” he apologizes in your ear, sending shivers down your spine at the proximity. “I need you to be my shield for these terribly boring conversations or I’ll melt into a puddle on the floor.”
You giggle. “So you’re throwing me into the dumpster fire?”
“More like I’m having you join me in the flames.”
The rest of the night eases your nerves more and more, and it gets to the point where you’re falling back into your old harmony with Jaehyun. You’re exchanging raised eyebrows when people aren’t looking, sharing your portion of small talk with the guests who approach you, and whispering in each other’s ears when a funny joke pops up. Jaehyun’s mom even swings by with your son a couple of times, giving you and Jaehyun the opportunity to spend some time with him together. You even manage to skirt around the straining questions if you two are back together, telling people you’re just here as friendly co-parents.
Despite that, for the first time in a long time, you felt like a family again.
By the end of the night, you’re climbing back into the car with Jaehyun while his parents wave you off, holding your son in their arms and assuring they’ll take good care of him.
Once they disappear out of view, you sink back and relax. Jaehyun laughs at you.
“Long night, huh?”
“My feet are killing me,” you complain, undoing the straps of your heels and tossing them aside.
His hand instantly comes to your neck, slowly massaging the tense muscles. You remember how he used to do that after every socially draining event you attended, and you lean into his touch.
“Thank you.”
The car runs into another speed bump and the movement causes you to grip onto Jaehyun’s arm, pushing your body into his. You gasp and he grabs your waist to steady you.
His hand feels like someone took a searing hot iron to your skin, and you grip his palm out of instinct. Your eyes glance over at him and you find he’s already looking at you, his other hand still resting steady against your pulse.
You don’t know who moves first.
The next sequence of events passes in a flurry, lips smashing together sloppily, hands flying around. You moan into his mouth and he unbuckles both of your seatbelts so you can climb onto his lap.
“Jae,” you groan, feeling his hands lift up your dress, sneaking up your thighs.
“I fucking missed you,” he says, sucking at your neck.
“Please, Jae,” you whimper, hands curled on the collar of his suit.
His hand firmly cups your clothed cunt and you whine loudly. You missed this — missed how rough he would get with you, how he would take you in front of anyone and everyone just to prove you were his. It’s why you got pregnant way before you planned to, and how you uncovered his desire to fill you raw.
“So fucking wet. This pussy’s all wet for me, isn’t that right?” He hisses in your ear, his deep voice causing you to soak your panties even more.
“Just for you, only for you,” you promise.
He captures your lips again as he pushes your underwear to the side, thumb circling your clit. You cry, hips starting to move on their own accord.
You admit, it’s been a long time since you were intimate with anyone, and it’s made you quite sensitive as a result.
“Want to feel it, baby,” his tongue traces your lower lip. You can start to feel drool pooling out of the corners of your mouth, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t care. If anything, he loves it when you’re sloppy like this. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers. Can you do that for me?”
It’s almost as if his words trigger something deep inside of you, because as soon as two fingers slip in, you’re already reaching your climax. He lets you ride out your high, hips moving back and forth on his fingers as if he was just a toy for your pleasure.
“God, you’re so fucking hot. Want to breed you so badly, baby.”
You gasp at the thought, pulling him into another searing kiss.
And that’s how Doyoung finds you, straddling Jaehyun’s lap with remnants of your orgasm leaking onto his trousers, lips desperately connected for more.
“Um, we’re back.”
You almost scream and Jaehyun pulls you closer to protect you. In your lustful haze, you failed to realize the car had come to a complete stop and Doyoung had opened the door to help you get out.
You’re incredibly embarrassed but Doyoung used to catch you in way more compromising positions before — one time, he had to uncomfortably barge in on Jaehyun fucking you over his desk because one of his shareholders was about to come in for an important meeting. So the fact that you’re still clothed lessens your shame.
You and Jaehyun waste no time, scrambling out of the car and quickly thanking Doyoung before sprinting into the cabin.
As soon as the door’s closed, Jaehyun’s on his knees, pushing up your dress and dragging your hips until you’re perfectly seated on his face. You hear the rip of your underwear but you don’t even care, fingers flying to grip his hair.
“Pretty girl,” he mumbles, tongue darting out to lick at your folds. His hands grasp your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. “Ride my face, baby. Like you used to in those stuffy restaurant bathrooms, remember?”
Of course you remember. Every time Jaehyun brought you along to a boring business dinner, you always ended up riding his face in the bathroom just to make the night more interesting.
You channel that feeling you used to get, pushing your cunt on his tongue until you start to feel your wetness dripping down your thighs. You can hear the squelch of your pussy riding Jaehyun’s tongue, and it makes your hips move even faster to chase your release.
“S-So fucking g-good, Daddy,” you whine, your climax building in your stomach. “Gonna cum for you.”
You feel him push away in favor of sucking on your clit, three fingers prodding at your entrance. You cry at the intrusion.
“Too much, Daddy!”
“Gotta get you prepped, baby. You remember how hard it is for you to take my cock?”
You couldn’t forget. Jaehyun had to have the perfect body, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. This meant that he was extremely well endowed and most nights, it usually took a lot of prep for him to even fit halfway into your pussy.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss when his fingers curl. “Gonna cum, gonna cum.”
You have never felt more grateful to Jaehyun’s mom until that moment, because the sound of your loud moans would normally be leading towards a noise complaint from the neighbors, but since the cabin was the only house for miles, you could be as loud as you want.
Jaehyun coaxes you through your high, abusing your clit until you beg him to stop, pushing him away from the overstimulation.
When he rises up on his feet, it’s like you two are teenagers again. He’s scrambling to take off your dress without damaging it and you’re clumsily pulling at his belt buckle until it gives. Once your dress has fallen to the ground, he throws his suit jacket somewhere and steps out of his slacks.
“No bra?” He groans, mouth immediately latching onto your nipple.
“Doesn’t- fuck, I can’t wear it with the dress. The straps will show.”
He picks you up like a ragdoll, and you find yourself being thrown over the coffee table, breaking at least three mugs along the way.
“Jae, be careful,” you try to scold him.
He doesn’t give a single fuck, taking his cock out and giving himself a few strokes.
“Raw, baby?”
You whimper, spreading your thighs apart in anticipation. “Yes, please, Daddy!”
The stretch of taking him is not unfamiliar, but it definitely fucking hurts.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders.
“Have you fucked anyone else? Let anyone else inside what belongs to me?” He asks you, his gaze growing more intense.
There’s that possessiveness you remember. You recall every time anyone would try to flirt with you, Jaehyun would drag you home and fuck you until you cried just to show no one else could make you feel like he does. There was even one instance where he fingered you in front of some poor guy at a club, forcing him to watch as you screamed Jaehyun’s name.
“Just one guy,” you hastily confess. “Johnny set us up but he wasn’t good. He wasn’t anything like you, Daddy.”
He nearly growls at the mention of another man being intimate with you, hands pushing your thighs closer to your chest so he can sink deeper into you.
“I’ll kill him,” he whispers harshly down at you. You open your mouth and he’s fast to spit into it, watching you swallow. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches what’s mine.”
You groan, pulling him down so you can kiss him. He starts to thrust into you and it’s like you can feel yourself being split in half.
“Don’t act so innocent,” you breathe into his lips. “I’m sure you did the same.”
“Haven’t fucked anyone since you left,” he admits, bottoming out. You mewl and bring him closer. “I watch those movies we used to make and cum into my hand, wishing it was yours. Isn’t that pathetic?”
Early in your relationship, you and Jaehyun used to make a collection of home movies for your eyes only. It ranged from fucking in your old childhood bed to getting railed on a balcony in Paris. It used to be something for you two to look at when you missed each other, but you haven’t seen one in years. Knowing that he still gets off to them makes you even more wet.
“Fuck, you just got so tight, baby,” he groans. “You like knowing that I can only cum to the thought of you? That I picture filling you up every night, imagining you begging for my cock? Does that turn you on, baby?”
You curse loudly, body feeling like it’s on fire. His fingers trail down to pinch your clit and that sends you over the edge, crying and whimpering as you reach your third orgasm of the night.
Your limbs feel like jelly, but you know Jaehyun’s not even halfway done. He made you orgasm six times in one night before, and ever since then, he’s been trying to beat his record.
You feel him lift you up, still attached to his cock.
“I-I can’t, Jae,” you plead, but you know it’s no use anyways.
He places you down in front of the hallway mirror, where a long table stands beneath it, filled with small trinkets and ornaments. He’s quick to push them off, and you wince when you hear glass breaking.
“Jae-“
“Don’t give a fuck, baby. I’ll replace it later. Hands on the table, eyes on the mirror.”
He turns you around so your ass is facing him, and you whine when he gives it a hard slap. You obey his instructions, placing your palms on the wood and focusing on his predatory look in the mirror.
As he pushes back into you, his hand snakes around your middle, pulling you back onto his cock.
“Tell me,” he taunts in your ear. “Tell me how much you missed me.”
“S-So much,” you sniffle. “I fuck myself with that toy you bought me and I pretend it’s you.”
“Yeah?” He snickers, offering another slap to your ass. “What else?”
“I miss you all the time. Miss how I could go to your office and ride you before your next meeting. Miss sucking your cock dry before you left for work. Miss you filling me up until it was dripping out of my pussy.”
He groans, pressing his face into your shoulder and biting down.
“Tell me,” you whisper, starting to feel vulnerable. “Tell me how much you missed me.”
“You know how much I missed you, baby,” he replies, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. “You know and you never need to ask.”
And there’s no other words that need to be said, because you understand exactly what he means. You almost begin to cry at the thought of him coming home to an empty house, searching through every room for you and your son and finding nothing but empty drawers and naked bed sheets.
“Don’t be sad, baby,” he murmurs, gently thrusting into you. “You know I deserved it.”
“I missed you,” you choke out. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.”
He tilts the side of your face and pulls you into a kiss, railing you deeper and deeper until your toes scrape the floor.
“Please cum in me, Jae. Please, I need it,” you beg.
“Are you back on birth control, baby?”
You shake your head. “No, but it’s okay. Cum in me raw, it’s okay.”
“Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I do, and I want it,” you whisper to him, interlacing your fingers. “It’s okay, Jae. Fill up my pussy, baby.”
He curses loudly before releasing inside of you, filling you until his cum starts to drip down your thighs.
He’s quick to drop back down to his knees, pulling you to his mouth again so he can send you to another orgasm. You tell him you don’t need another one but he doesn’t listen, fervently eating his cum out of your pussy like it’s his last meal.
You reach your high just like that, with his tongue deep inside you and your hands still gripping the hallway table.
When you come down, he lifts you bridal style and carries you to your bathroom.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.”
You wake up to the sound of birds chirping and a large heater pressed against your back. Except the large heater is actually your ex-fiancé, who’s snoring loudly in your ear.
You smile fondly, thinking about the previous night. You reach to check your phone on the nightstand, and roll your eyes at your unread text messages.
[johnnyjsuh]: so what happened? did he fuck you?
[johnnyjsuh]: oh he FOR SURE fucked you, you’re not even reading my texts rn
[johnnyjsuh]: just confirmed with doyoung
[johnnyjsuh]: have fun whore
You feel Jaehyun stir behind you and you place your phone down. He kisses your temple.
“Mm, good morning, baby. Breakfast in bed?”
You smile at the thought and nod, watching him get up and pull on his boxers. However, there’s a lingering voice in the back of your head and you wish you could stop it before it grows, but it’s impossible.
“Jae?” You question before he’s out the door, and he pauses to look at you. “Why did you never get mad?”
He blinks a few times, processing your question. He walks over and sits at the edge of the bed, and you sit up to look at him properly.
“Why would I get mad? You were doing what was best for you and the little bear.”
“But I never told you. I just-“ you place your head in your hands, guilt washing over you. “I just left you.”
You feel him taking your hands away from your face and he tilts your chin up so he can look at you.
“It was a bad situation, and I caused it. You were right — I never came home, I was overworking myself to prove something to the public, and I lost everything because of it. I needed that wake-up call from you. And I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve begged you to come back, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I convinced myself that you were better off without me, and that the little bear deserved a father who was always present. It’s all my fault and I never want to see you blame yourself for my wrongs.”
You frown, taking your hands in his and staring into his eyes.
“Do you really believe that? That all of the blame should’ve fallen on you?”
He nods meekly, suddenly too embarrassed to meet your stare, looking down at the sheets.
“Jae,” you sigh. “You know our relationship held equal weight on both sides. Did I wish you were more present for us? Of course. But it’s also my fault for never communicating to you how frustrated I was. I just didn’t know how, and it resulted in me running away from the problem instead of working through it. I think about that day all the time — what would’ve happened if I just waited for you to come home? What would’ve happened if I told you how I was feeling? It was too difficult for me to process and as much as I was confident in my decision, a part of me wishes I would’ve stayed and talked through it.”
“But you should’ve never been in that position in the first place,” he replies, looking more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him. “I knew I was working way too hard for something that might not even be achievable. I was so desperate to be accepted that I forgot about my family. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
Your eyes well with tears and you wonder how long he’s carried this guilt with him. You lean over and press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I love you,” you whisper, hands still desperately clutching his. “If you promise me that this time will be different, I want us to be together again. To try and be a family again.”
His eyes sparkle with hope and he kisses you again.
“I promise. I promise I’m here for our family. I’m going to be a better partner and a better father. Thank you.”
“And?” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs, nuzzling his head into your neck playfully.
“And I love you. More than anything in this world.”
His lips chase you until your head hits the pillow. You whine when his hand roughly clutches your waist.
“We-“ he starts to say, kissing down your neck. “We have to go pick up the little bear.”
“In a minute,” you respond, wanting to savor this moment with him. “Let me suck you off first.”
He groans. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that, baby. If we’re on limited time, you know I’m making sure I get you pregnant before you walk out that door.”
You moan. “I’m pretty sure you already did that last night.”
“You never know until a couple of tries later, right?”
He moves to drop his boxers but then he suddenly remembers something, looking bashful as he glances down at you.
“What? What is it?”
“I was a little too rough last night and well, I think your dress got the receiving end of most of it.”
“Jaehyun!”
“I’m sorry, I tried my best not to damage it!”
You roll your eyes and turn over, pushing yourself on your hands and knees.
“Put a baby in me and I’ll forgive you.”
“I fucking love you.”
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mimicmimikyuwrites · 14 days
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Loyalty is Hot - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT
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Request: "I was hoping for a fic where Reader is Adam's third wife and they meet Lucifer (maybe in a meeting?) and he states how he could take Reader from Adam as well. Adam is kind of internally panicking as Lucifer states what it took to take his other two wives until Reader gets all fed up and rudely puts him in his place. Causing Adam to get all hot and bothered for his wifey and their loyalty?"
Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, semi-public sex (they fuck in a meeting room), Adam being himself, creampie, slight angst, SMUT, MDNI
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You hated meetings, or waking up for them more specifically. It seemed that every time your husband dragged you to one it was at the earliest time possible, a time you'd much rather be spending in bed with him, enjoying the time of day where Heaven was at its most peaceful. It was also the time of day when Adam, sleepy and in a loving mood, was least annoying (which pained you a bit to admit, especially considering how much you loved him.)
"Hey! Wake the fuck up, babe! Don't fall asleep on me, not here." Adam nearly shouted, gently poking at you before you fell asleep on his shoulder in the meeting room. You opened your eyes with a sigh, keeping your head rested against your husband.
"Who are we even meeting with? More importantly, why haven't they shown up yet? It's been at least an hour," You questioned, a rising annoyance in your voice. Adam had sprung this meeting on you at the literal last minute, saying something along the lines of 'I need to show off my hot-as-fuck wife,' before practically dragging you out of bed; no more information given. Being the good wife you were, you accompanied him, albeit with some complaining. The last thing you were expecting, however, was for the meeting to be in Hell.
"We're meeting with Lucifer," He explained, the wide grin on his face shown on his mask. "I can't wait to see that fucker's face when he sees how sexy you are and realizes that you're all mine." One of his hands moved down to place itself on your thigh as he leaned in, smirking. "Who knows, maybe I'll even bend you over and fuck you right here on this table while he—"
You glared at him, smacking his hand away with a hiss of his name. He drew it back, letting out an amused laugh. "We are here on business," You reprimanded, an upset frown on your face. "Could you at least save the horny talk for after the meeting? Y'know when we're not in Hell?" Despite your reaction, you had to admit that the idea your husband had conjured up was kinda hot when you thought about it more in depth.
Fuck, you could see it now, feel it even. Back pressed against the table while your husband loomed over you, beautiful golden eyes staring into yours as you spread your legs for him. His thick cock sinking into you slowly, only for him to start with a quick, animalistic pace–just the way you liked it. Fuck, and the way his hands would reach out, grabbing at whatever he could; your ass, tits, thighs, anything that was soft and grabbable.
You hadn't realized the blush that had spread across your face until you saw your husband's smug grin. "Awww, did that turn you on, baby?" He cooed, almost mockingly. "Remember what you said, 'Save it for after the meeting.' Can't jump on me just quite yet." He leaned back in his chair, the grin on his face only growing as you shot him a harsh glare. As much of a lover of sex as he was, Adam loved teasing you even more.
You opened your mouth to argue back at him, slightly embarrassed by his use of your own words against you, but you were cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing. You turned your head, spotting the King of Hell himself. He looked just the way Adam had always described: pale white skin, rosy red cheeks, golden hair, noseless, and short. So short.
You stood from your seat as Lucifer approached the table, the sound of his boots against the tile of the floor filling the otherwise large, quiet room. You smiled, holding out a hand to shake, your typical behavior for business matters, regardless of who it was. "Hello, Your Majesty," You greeted politely, earning an eye roll from your husband next to you.
Lucifer returned your smile with one of his own, taking your hand and shaking it. "Who might this beautiful angel be, Adam?" He questioned, pressing a light kiss to your hand before letting it go and sitting down. Adam smirked as you sat back in your seat next to him, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in close; not letting his annoyance at Lucifer's small display of affection be visible on his face.
"This is (Y/N), my wife. She's gorgeous, isn't she? A real hottie. Did I mention she's my wife?" He introduced, taking pride in having you by his side. Lucifer glanced at you, looking unamused by Adam's obvious boast before smiling at you. "Well, I certainly hope she's happy with you. Y'know, considering your history with your other wives." He antagonized, covering it up with a polite tone.
Adam's smile faltered. A sensitive topic had been brought up, one that challenged your husband's confidence. You looked between the two, taking note of how they glared at each other with mutual hatred. Lucifer turned his attention fully onto you, leaning in slightly. "Tell me, dear. Does he even satisfy you? Are you happy with him?" You opened your mouth slightly in shock, taken back by the sudden, blunt questioning.
"Fuck you! Of course she's happy with me!" Adam growled. "She's not like those last two bitches who'd settle for you of all people, you short fuck." Despite his assertion, you could hear the doubt in his voice, like he was trying to convince himself of it, too. Lucifer grinned, sharp teeth on full display, not affected whatsoever by your husband's burst of anger.
"It's not my fault that your wives like me better, Adam," Lucifer replied snidely. "All it took for Lilith was a man who did more than the bare minimum, and as for Eve, all it took was giving her a choice of who she wanted to be with for once, and that someone certainly wasn't you."
Lucifer then motioned to you. "I wonder what it'll take for me to win your third wife over, probably not much, to no fault of her own. You're probably leaving her just as unhappy as you did the last two, Adam." You watched as Adam tensed up at Lucifer's words, any confidence now gone as he struggled to keep up his self-absorbed facade.
"T-Thats not true," He stuttered, one of the few times you had ever seen him do so in all of the years you had known him. The drop in Adam's demeanor was the final straw, and you calmly got up from your seat. Both men's eyes followed you, watching your movements closely. Even with the mask on his face, you could see the fear in your husband's eyes as he watched you approach Lucifer.
"Honey? Baby?" Adam called out to you, watch as your face morphed into one of pure anger; a sight that even scared the King of Hell himself. They both knew that you were far from happy, and that was never a good thing.
"First of all, Lucifer," You hissed, saying his name with pure malice. "I am not Lilith, nor am I Eve. I may have been created with the same purpose in mind, but let it be known that we are far from similar." You slowly got closer to him, almost like a predator stalking its prey in the most terrifying way possible. "Second of all, yes I am happy. Clearly happier with Adam than Lilith was with you, considering how she up and left you and went only God knows where. I also don't see Eve around."
Lucifer's smile fell for the first time that day, and with it, his pride. Adam watched in astonishment as you continued to put Lucifer in his place. "Finally, I need you to understand that you're far from being my type. You're a coward who barely governs his people, yet so proudly calls himself the boss. Then you waltzed in here acting like you knew me better than I know myself, even when we had just met. I love Adam with every fiber of my being, even if he's the most obnoxious jackass I've ever met."
You got even closer, causing Lucifer to lean back in an attempt to escape you. "Oh, and for the record—" You leaned into his ear. "Adam fucks me better than I'm sure you've ever fucked anyone else in your pathetic life. So, yes, he does satisfy me." You whispered. You pulled back suddenly, a smile on your face. "Is that understood?"
Lucifer gulped, nodding in reply. "Lovely." You grinned, moving back to Adam. "Now, I'm afraid we're out of time. We'll have to reschedule this meeting for another day, preferably with someone else. Maybe you can send someone in your stead? Someone who's more politically involved in your Kingdom's workings, perhaps."
Lucifer let out an awkward laugh, standing up before making his way to the door, mumbling something about how we would send his daughter instead next time, before leaving. You stood triumphant, hands on your hips as you watched his departure.
"I—" Adam began, almost at a loss for words. "Are you aware how fucking hot that was!? Holy shit—" He pulled you down into his lap, pulling his mask off before crashing his lips against yours, kissing you eagerly. He pulled you down by the hips, grinding you against him, causing you to feel his growing hard-on through the fabric of his robes. "Fuck–Please, I know you said we have to wait, but please please please let me fuck you right here. Need you now."
You grinded down, a moan escaping both of you. "Why don't you do what you said you'd do earlier, hmm? Fuck me right here on this table, Adam." He bent you over the table, and you let him pull your skirt up just enough for him to be able to then tug your underwear off, tossing it aside somewhere in the room.
"Impatient today, aren't you, hon?" You teased playfully, looking back to find him not even bothering to take off his robes, choosing to pull them up instead. He chuckled, placing his hands on your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Seeing you put annoying little fucks like Lucifer in their place does things to me, baby." He purred, thrusting in.
You let out a gasp at the feeling, his thick cock stretching you out perfectly. His pace was quick from the start, hips snapping against yours as the sound of it all filled the room. "I bet Lucifer couldn't fuck you like this now, could he? No, you need a real man to show you who you belong to." Adam groaned, kissing and nipping at your neck.
"H-He could never," You stuttered, struggling to speak as your mind went foggy from pleasure. "I need—Oh, fuck!" You let out a cry as his fingers found your clit, rubbing at it. "That's a good girl, let all those pretty little noises out." He praised, the sound of your moans more beautiful than any Heavenly choir to him.
"You're so much better than those other whores," He moaned, pounding into you, eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. "My perfect fucking wife, the love of my life—Shit—" He let out a growl as you clenched down on him. He let out a sweet laugh, hands moving up to grab at your tits while he fucked into you. "Oh? The praise turns you on, huh? You should be honored to receive it from me."
A mix of your moans and his spread throughout the room as you both drew closer to your climaxes, your shared noises growing louder and louder by the second. "Fuck," He cursed, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he rutted into you. "Gonna cum, 'm gonna fill you up. Maybe I'll even put a baby in you just to show Lucifer how in love with me you are."
"Do it—" You begged, legs quivering as he angled his cock in just the right way for the tip to graze your sweet spot. "Cum inside me Adam, let them know that I'm yours. All yours—A-Adam!" Your orgasm hit you with sudden force, the feeling coursing through you.
"Yesyesyes! Feels so fucking good cumming around me—" The sensation of your pussy contracting around him during your orgasm pushed him over the edge, and he came, shooting thick ropes of cum deep inside of you.
You rested your face against the table, no longer able to hold yourself up by your arms after the energy your climax had used up. Your orgasm subsided, but your body still shook, lightly trembling from the enjoyable onslaught it had just endured. You took deep breaths as Adam pulled out of you, feeling his cum leaking out of your well-fucked cunt.
He pressed soft kisses to your neck, holding you as you both basked in your post-orgasmic bliss together. "I love you," He mumbled against your neck, smiling. "You seriously have no idea how grateful I am for you to be my wife. You're absolute perfection, sweetheart." He pulled himself off of you, sitting back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You think some sinner scum is gonna have to clean our mess up? That shit would be hilarious."
You sighed, shooting him a harsh look that he only laughed at. "Adam," You warned. "Have some respect, would you?" He laughed again, pulling you down into his lap, grinning. "Respect? Baby, we just screwed in a fancy meeting room. We are past the point of failing to show respect."
He leaned in closer to you, mischief in his golden eyes. "Now, why don't we go for a round two?"
2K notes · View notes
lisired · 14 days
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can you keep it down?
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pairing: neighbor!mark x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)
summary: The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.
word count: 10.4k
a/n: 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door. 
It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed. 
Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s. 
He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you. 
“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”
For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses. 
When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”
He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole. 
But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father. 
That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor. 
Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you rationalized yourself and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list. 
The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe. 
Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast. 
You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?” 
Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.” 
With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since. 
“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?” 
Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”
He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.
Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.” 
Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys. 
That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that flushed red when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor. 
Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly. 
He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”
That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”
Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”
“Must be fun.”
“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”
You chuckled. “Amen to that.” 
It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests. 
Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence. 
Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”
“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions. 
“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.” 
You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base. 
But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time. 
That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.
For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of. 
Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. 
Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges. 
The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it. 
“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking. 
Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.” 
“I kind of like it.”
He snickered. “Only kinda?”
More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter. 
He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident.��
So was he. 
“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?” 
There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former. 
“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”
Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?” 
Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge. 
Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?” 
He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence. 
Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship. 
“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.” 
You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.” 
“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused. 
What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”
Was. That meant not any more. 
Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”
“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough. 
You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?” 
“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”
Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”
“Then, stop deflecting.”
With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist. 
As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily. 
You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces. 
A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable. 
You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait. 
Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”
Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow. 
Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction. 
But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.
Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about. 
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One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”
“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”
Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”
“Just turned six about a week ago.” 
“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”
He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart. 
You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”
Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?” 
“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.” 
Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?” 
There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.” 
Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?” 
You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.” 
“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.” 
You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him. 
It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal. 
You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait. 
Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways. 
He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”
“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”
There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?” 
You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?” 
“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?” 
Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment. 
“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time. 
Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.” 
You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly. 
At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were. 
Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.
Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?” 
“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”
Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it. 
As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing. 
You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.” 
“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing. 
After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free. 
It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice. 
“You never answered my question that day.”
“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”
Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?” 
“About you, or in general?”
He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”
You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.” 
“Why blue?”
“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked. 
“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?” 
“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.” 
Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze. 
But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew. 
“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”
“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement. 
You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”
“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare. 
“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.” 
“And that’s what gets you going?”
“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted. 
Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you. 
Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt. 
“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.
Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.” 
“Lake?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.” 
You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you. 
There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food. 
“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head. 
Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.” 
“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.” 
“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.” 
You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!” 
Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture. 
There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away. 
Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.” 
Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist. 
The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.
And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. 
“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood. 
Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point. 
When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your despires were no longer pure wants - they were needs. 
“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.” 
Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?” 
You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”
That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal. 
Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.” 
You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?” 
“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.” 
“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.
Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”
“I never said that.”
“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased. 
You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.” 
Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.” 
You giggled. 
Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever. 
But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted. 
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Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly. 
For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind. 
Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence. 
It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion. 
When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down. 
“Had fun last night?” 
Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?” 
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.” 
Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind. 
Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win. 
The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency. 
Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might. 
“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.” 
He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.” 
“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?” 
You sighed. “I do.”
Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.” 
“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you. 
The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.” 
Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you. 
“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.” 
Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb. 
Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom. 
By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.” 
He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.” 
Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it. 
You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would. 
The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long. 
His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part. 
“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned. 
“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening. 
He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck. 
Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.” 
In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent. 
The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner. 
He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time. 
That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out. 
“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more. 
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close. 
When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag. 
“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”
You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.
He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.” 
Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment. 
Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much. 
Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”
As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed. 
You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage. 
There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile. 
You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?” 
“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.” 
You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.” 
“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”
Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.” 
Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”
One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like. 
His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.” 
“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”
“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”
“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.” 
Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”
His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck. 
“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working. 
Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps. 
The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn. 
That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.
You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts. 
Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled. 
“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.” 
Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch. 
“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere. 
Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll reconsider.” 
Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?” 
“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size. 
In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.
This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job. 
But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did. 
“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already. 
Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel. 
Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”
Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.” 
When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his. 
Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name. 
He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”
That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer. 
Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time. 
There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much. 
Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness. 
Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full. 
“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.” 
There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.
You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair. 
It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass. 
Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t. 
Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?” 
“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing. 
There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars. 
Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily. 
“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?” 
You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”
Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?” 
“I was not screaming.”
“You were screaming. And…,”
Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving. 
“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away. 
Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”
You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”
Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.” 
Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof. 
He was your temptation.
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chnsbm · 4 months
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" pink promise "
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PAIRING: office!bangchan x fem!reader WARNINGS: friends to lovers, fluff, a pinch suggestive WORD COUNT: 4.6K SUMMARY: Your favorite coworker comforts you after a particularly bad meeting and you realize he might be your favorite for more reasons than one
“I’m okay I-I promise. You can go to your desk, if you want.”
You stuttered dabbing the seventh tissue Chris handed you to wipe the tears from your eyes. You really tried your best to keep it together in your last meeting, but couldn’t make it all the way to the end. Your boss seemed to get a kick out of embarrassing you in front of as many of your colleagues as possible on a quarterly basis and she really laid into you today. You thought you’d toughened up a bit since your last verbal beating but clearly you overestimated your emotional strength. 
In the corner of your eye you saw him stand up, fidget uncomfortably for a few moments before sitting back down. Chris had been sitting next to you at your desk for the past 15 minutes just passing you tissues and repeatedly offering to go with you to HR, which you declined. Now that he’d run out of tissue and knew you weren’t keen on his HR idea, he looked confused on what to do next.
“Well I’m not going to just leave you like this.” he gestured to the mascara running down your cheeks. Of course this would happen on the one day you decided to wear mascara that, evidently, wasn’t waterproof. 
You took a deep breath, wiping the last of the runny makeup off your face, feeling a little more in control of yourself, and more importantly your tear ducts. 
“Yes, you can and should.” you warned, blowing your nose. “She’s your boss too. She'll have a fit if she sees you haven’t been online in 20 minutes.” 
“Man…. fuck her.” he said making sure to whisper the last two words after comically looking over both shoulders to make sure the coast was clear. You giggled looking away from him and back at the work you still had to complete on your laptop.
“I really thought I’d put the data together in the way she wanted this time.” you spoke half to yourself and half to no one in particular.
“Don’t worry about what she said. She is evil.” he emphasized the last word bringing a smile back to your lips, but it only lasted a moment.
“I mean… she’s the boss for a reason, right? She knows what she’s talking about. I just… I just have to be better at taking criticism.” 
He grabbed the back of your office chair and turned you to face him. “Listen to me,” he said firmly, only 5 inches away from your face to ensure he had your attention. 
“There is criticism and then there is just being mean. I don’t see anything wrong with your presentation. And even if I did, I would never talk to you - or anyone else like that. Especially not in front of a room full of people.
That's not leadership, that's just bullying.”
You chuckled nervously and looked away from him. Partly due to your proximity and partly due to your discomfort whenever you had to talk about yourself or your work. It was no secret to him that you viewed all your work as lackluster. No matter how hard you pushed yourself to get it done or how well it turned out, it was never good enough. Having a She-devil as a boss only worsened your outlook on your accomplishments. 
“Yeah… I guess.”
He stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nope. No guessing. I’m right. You’re wrong. End of discussion.” He insisted before closing eyes and turning his nose up at you to further signify his refusal to listen to any more of your nonsense. 
You laughed again. He was very good at making you laugh. 
“Alright, you win.” you answered slumping in your chair in defeat. “I give up.” 
His smile returned in an instant. “Good.” He answered, opening his arms for you like he always did. You were not an overly affectionate person, but your friendship with Chris meant a lot of hugs, so you’d gotten pretty used to it. He usually only did so after hours when both of you were alone. Presumably to avoid office gossip, but you never bothered to ask. Some might say, you looked forward to giving in to his little habit. You feigned reluctance, pushing yourself up off your computer chair to lean into his embrace. You didn’t hug him back at first. You usually didn’t. It was part of your routine. He would hug you and you would pretend to hate it. This time, however, the reason you didn’t hug him back was due to how absolutely drained you were. Both emotionally and physically. How you were going to work for the next four hours was anybody’s guess. 
“Don’t let her upset you like this. You’re too smart for that.” When you felt him rub your back, tears stung at your eyes again, but you shut them tight to keep them at bay. He was always so warm and kind in ways he didn’t need to be. You nodded against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist, finally hugging him back.
“Thank you.” you mumbled into his shoulder. 
“Wh-What are you getting all sentimental for?” he stuttered, pulling back a bit to get a better look at you while keeping you in his arms. You did the same, turning upward to see him. His eyes locked onto yours. Big, brown, and warmer than the summer sun. They were usually warm but they seemed warmer now than you’d ever noticed. Did he always look at you like this? You opened your mouth to say something but movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. In your peripheral vision you see the lady in the cubicle next to you was giving you both a very knowing smirk. Thankfully Chris wasn’t facing her, but it flustered you even still. 
“Hm?” he prompted you to continue your thought while turning his head to see what caught your attention. Luckily the woman had returned to her work quickly so he didn’t see her.
“Sorry, I-uh forgot.” You released him from your arms immediately missing the warmth of him.
“Okay.” He patted your head twice before releasing you and began putting his laptop and other items he’d brought with him into his bag. He came with you to your desk right after that nightmare meeting without bothering to take his things back to his desk first.
“You know where you want to go for lunch? My treat.” he spoke, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulder.
“No, it's okay.” you answered, now very aware of your audience of one. Although she couldn’t be seen, you knew she was most likely listening. 
“Aw c’mon don’t be like that.” He cooed from the entrance to your cubicle. You could hear the pout in his voice. You looked up at him and confirmed his lips were pursed in the cutest pout you’d ever seen. “Since you’ve had a bad day, we’ll go wherever you want. Even that cake shop.”
“Really?” you couldn't help lighting up at that. You’d been talking about the cake you’d had there for weeks. Cake wasn’t exactly his ideal lunch but if it made you happy, he could eat a little unhealthy today. 
“Mhm.” he answered leaning on the wall of your space and waiting for your answer. Well… it seemed to you like he was waiting for your answer, but he was looking at you the same way he was when he was hugging you a moment ago. His eyes were soft like he was watching a kitten sleeping curled up by the fire.
He must have noticed you trying to figure him out because he quickly looked away and cleared his throat, mumbling something about texting him when you were ready before he scurried off to his own cubicle.
“That boy is in love with you.”
You sighed. “Mariam, you need a hobby.” 
Your 50-something coworker leaned over the cubicle barrier as she had a moment ago, knowing smirk returning to her lips. 
“Why would I do that when I got a romance novel one desk away from me? You’re like teenagers in love. It's adorable.” she added, pushing her reading glasses further up her nose, before turning back to her work.
“He's just very sweet. That's all.” She usually teased you for you and Chris’ dynamic but what she witnessed was, admittedly, more intimate than usual.
“Mhm, and I’m sure he gives cute little hugs and buys lunch for everyone.”
She had a point. Your silence spoke volumes and your reddening cheeks could speak ten more. Luckily for you, Mariam couldn’t see your face.
“Alright I’ll stop teasing. All I want is an invite to the wedding.” she added. 
You groaned. Just two more hours. you thought. Two more hours and it’ll be lunchtime.
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“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over this.” Changbin said, continuing to mindlessly scroll through his emails before stopping to look at one in particular. He really had the whole “look busy” act down to a science. 
“Becaaaaaaaaause I promised her I would treat her to lunch since she had such a shitty morning. I can’t cancel this meeting, but I can’t cancel on her either. I hate life and life hates me.” he whined, slumping even farther down into his computer chair.
Right after his conversation with you, he threw himself into his work and completely forgot about an important meeting he had scheduled weeks ago for lunchtime  this afternoon which caused his current meltdown. 
Changbin cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “You are ridiculous.” he said, pushing himself up from his desk chair and crossing over to Chris’ side. 
“Its not the end of the world you big fuckin baby.” He chuckled and pulled Chris by the shirt to get him to sit up. “You tell her you can’t do lunch, but you can do dinner instead. To make it up to her and all that.” 
Chris sat up fully, contemplating the new plan. 
“Well I don’t know… asking her out to dinner seems a little more intimate.” 
“Exactly.” The long pause and blank stare he got from Chris in return made Changbin’s head hurt.
“I love you but sometimes I wonder how you survive without me.” He said to himself.
“You love me?” Chris responded, wiggling his eyebrows in mock flirtation as he shimmied towards his coworker.
“Not if you don’t FOCUS,” Changbin answered, holding Chris by the shoulders and stifling a laugh. 
“It's not straight up asking her out on a date but, like you said, it is a pinch more intimate than a regular coworker-lunch. That way you can inch yourself closer to being more than friends without really making a move.”
Changbin leaned back onto Chris’ desk, crossing arms over his chest as he watched his friend connect the dots.
“Actually… that's not a bad plan.”
“I know. Now stop moping and tell her. It's getting close to lunchtime.”
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“I was sad we couldn’t do lunch, but this is really nice.” You said tracing your finger along the intricate design decorating the edges of the table cloth. The cake shop you’d looked forward to going to was closed once you got off work, but the place Chris had taken you to instead was definitely very nice. The restaurant was casual enough that you felt comfortable in your work clothes but fancy enough that you felt.. kind of special. In all honesty you were expecting a pizza place or something, so this was a very pleasant surprise. He didn’t have to take you here, but he did anyway. 
“I know right? I heard they have really good pork chops here so I had to give it a try.”
That reminded you of something that a coworker had said to you just before you got a text from Chris about the change of plans. He’d asked you about work things and then randomly asked what kind of food you liked. After answering him, he talked about work stuff for a few more minutes before excusing himself to get back to work. You thought it was strange then, but seeing as the answer you gave him was the same as the meal on the plates being set in front of you now, you had a feeling there was a connection. 
If you remembered correctly his name was Changbin and he was a close friend of Chris’ from school. You’d have to thank him later.
“You okay?” Chris asked, cheeks already full of food. 
“Hm?” you hadn’t realized you had been staring at your plate smiling like an idiot until he spoke. 
“Oh! Yea, sorry just remembered something.” You answered right before you cut yourself a piece. 
The drinks came out shortly after. You’d both ordered something light and fruity. Although it was friday, neither of you wanted a hangover so you figured one wouldn’t hurt.
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Your sides were hurting from laughing. Chris had given you story after story from him and Changbin’s childhood but this one was by far your favorite. 
“So to be more realistic, he put black paint around his eyes because, you know, you don’t really see Batman’s skin when he’s in the mask, you just see black.” he says, taking a deep breath to calm himself for the next bit of the story. 
“And the Monday after Halloween he comes to school with black paint residue all over his eyes. It wouldn’t wash off.”
Chris was bright red and fanning himself with a menu trying to bring his temperature back down after laughing for what felt like twenty minutes straight. You weren’t doing much better. Your abdominal muscles felt like you’d be doing sit ups for hours and your mascara was threatening to run for the second time that day.
“Every teacher that saw him that day was either disappointed in him or laughed at him.” He wiped a tear from his eyes with a look of pure joy as he reminisced. “I think that was the best day of my life.”  
At first you couldn’t imagine the very well put together Changbin you’d seen in meetings being so rowdy as a teenager, but if he had been friends with Chris all that time, you could see it. Chris was very professional and knew his shit, but he definitely seemed like the class clown type. He’d never disrupt a meeting with anything unrelated to the topic at hand, but he would definitely send you an IM or two that would have you biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
“You really paint a picture..I’m sad that I wasn’t there to witness it.” You had almost forgotten about your drink until your bracelet clinked against the glass.You drank the last bit, chuckling to yourself about how fun it would have been to be a part of their school days antics.
“Me too..” he chuckled. “I would’ve had a lot more fun if you’d been there.” He traced the rim of his glass as he let his mind wander to a world where you’d been classmates as teens. He imagined sneaking you notes in math class, sharing his lunch with you if he got something you particularly liked, and late night study sessions where you did everything but study. 
“Oh yeah?” you asked with a slight lilt to your voice signaling a question with a hint of playfulness you’d usually reserved for non-work encounters. A hint he picked up on and prayed was intentional.
He looked up from his glass, wistful smile still present like he was still somewhere between reality and a daydream. “Yeah.” he answered. 
Your cheeks almost eclipsed your eyes when you smiled sincerely. You could feel them heating up as he looked at you. He maintained eye contact a little longer than a coworker would consider necessary. 
You looked away. “We probably would’ve gotten in a lot of trouble.” 
“Me? Never.” he waved away in your direction like he was physically batting away the concept of him being anything less than lovely. “I was an angel. You probably would’ve gotten us in trouble.”
You opened your mouth to disagree but closed it when you thought back on your highschool days.
“Actually you’re probably right.” you answered with a laugh. His eyes widened with this new bit of information. 
“Wait, really? You?” he questioned with the same astonishment as if you’d said you could fit a two story house in your pocket. 
You threw your head back in laughter at his very visible shock. “Yeah, I wasn’t a very good student.”
“Like.. school work-wise or behavior-wise?” he questioned while literally at the edge of his seat. This was easily the most animated you’d ever seen him. 
“Well… both I guess.” you answered, biting back your smile at his curiosity. 
“Really? That's crazy. With how you beat yourself up at work I would have guessed you were a straight-A student.” 
You laughed again at the idea, picking up your fork and making patterns in the sauce left over from your meal.
“Veeery far from it. I wasn’t in fights or anything like that but.. yea…. I definitely wasn’t student of the year.” You smirked. “I bet the teachers loOoOoved you, though.” 
“I mean.. well.. I don’t know.” he answered bashfully, leaning forward against the table on his elbows so he could hide his blushing behind his hands.
It felt like you two had your own little world that was just big enough for you two and the dinner table. You felt like a teenager again. His shyness strengthened your urge to mess with him. He had been shy around you before but never in this setting. Never had he been this way in a dimly lit restaurant, top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, and three drinks in your system. You were noticing a lot of things tonight. His hair was slightly tostled from messing with it as he told his stories, he had a habit of playing with the silver bracelet he wore on his wrist, and his lips were wet with the remnants of his last sip. All things that you may have noticed before but under these circumstances, you felt like you were seeing him for the first time. Chris' thoughts mirrored your own. He’d never seen you so open, so relaxed. He felt like this was the only time he’d ever seen you. 
“I bet you were the favorite.” you added pointing at him with the end of your fork. 
“Naaaaah… well not really.” he responded looking away from you like he knew it was indeed true. At least partly. 
“I knew it! You totally seem like the type.” You laughed thinking about the sad puppy dog eyes he probably gave all his teachers whenever he was in trouble. He probably could have gotten away with a lot.
“Well if it makes you feel any better, I would’ve used my favorite privileges to get you out of trouble.” 
“Is that so?” It was your turn to lean closer, beaming at him. Your eyes were almost shimmering with delight at the proposition of Chris protecting you from angry teachers if you’d been in school together. 
“Of course.” Chris answered as smoothly as he could with his heart racing a million miles a minute. If you ever looked at him like that during work he’d take his laptop and work from home. He’d never be able to focus knowing you were around the corner after that. 
“Did you have detention a lot?” he asked. 
“Well… how much is a lot?”
“Wooow you really were a bad girl, huh?”
You shrugged like you had no idea what he could possibly mean, while pretending to look for the waiter. You hoped that averting your gaze was enough to distract him from noticing any reaction from you at the term ‘bad girl’. You liked that. You liked that very much. 
“Well I would’ve snuck you out.”
“Mister Favorite? You’d never.”
“I would!” He probably would’ve contemplated his next sentence more if he was 100% sober, but he was not.
“I mean.. I still would.”
“Aaaw you’d sneak me out of detention?”
He leaned forward and outstretched his hand with his pinky out to seal the pledge. “Pinky promise.”
You narrowed your eyes at him before leaning forward and linking pinkies with his. His hand was warm in yours. It was nice. 
“Pink promise.” You echoed. “You’ll be happy to find out that I don’t go to detention that much as a grown woman, but I appreciate the sentiment.” you joked making him pull his hand away to cover his face.
“You know what I meant. You’re so mean to me.” he complained through giggles. 
“Aw I’m sorry,” you cooed, reaching across the table and gently tugging his hands from his face, taking them in your own.
You could have let go, but you didn’t. He could have pulled away but he didn’t. 
“I’ll let you sneak me out of detention.” your voice was softer than it was before. In your closeness it felt like speaking too loudly would disturb the little bubble you two had.
“Good.” he answered, caressing your hand with the pad of his thumb. You would have stayed there for hours if you could have. You would have held his hand the whole time if you hadn’t seen the waiter coming to close out your tab.
Chris pulled away at the last possible moment and you took notice of the way he smiled at you when doing so.
You had a passing thought of Who knew he could be so sweet? But you knew. You knew very well. 
Chris paid for the meal. You were going to pay for your portion, but when you handed him your card he looked at you like you were crazy. “I invited you out. My treat.” he insisted.
“I can order you an Uber home.” He offered once outside the restaurant. “I completely forgot I was driving and had a few too many cocktails to be completely honest.” he chuckled, smiling apologetically. You didn’t mind, happy to spend a little more time with him but you wouldn’t tell him that. You were starting to sober up and remembering all the things you said was making your ears hot. You didn’t outright tell him you liked him but you might as well have with all your micro-confessions and lingering touches. You were content with ignoring the way you might have felt about him before this dinner and the sudden change in feelings was giving you whiplash. In two hours you went from slightly affectionate colleagues to holding hands over dinner plates in public places. You were never this careless. You usually spent most of your time overthinking but not tonight. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but you were more than certain it had a lot to do with the man standing next to you. Your coworker who was currently holding your umbrella over your head so you wouldn’t get wet from the rain when getting into your shared Uber.
“You know you could have had your own. I would have paid for yours if you wanted.” He mentioned with a grin. He knew why you opted to share one. The smile from ear to ear told you as much. He just wanted to hear you say it.
“Aaah ya know. Safe…ty?” you answered. You were too embarrassed to be truthful but telling an obvious lie was more or less the same thing.
“Uh huh. Then why can’t a bad girl like yourself take care of that, hm?”
“Shut up.” you shot back, covering your face and hitting him lightly on the arm. He laughs out loud before putting his arm around you and giving you a light squeeze. If he catches you blushing, he doesn’t mention it. He doesn't remove his arm from around you either. He acts as if he forgot about it but he very much didn’t. If you can feel his heart hammering in his chest, you don’t mention it. 
The ride back to your apartment was quiet. Part of you wondered what would happen if it was raining hard enough to warrant you inviting him inside. You could almost see him being the picture perfect gentleman in your mind’s eye. Him insisting on taking the couch, him worrying about whether you were sober enough to take a shower without falling, him asking if you wanted water all before considering if he needed any of those things himself. You would put money on him being nothing but wonderful.
“Your destination is on the left,” said the automated Uber voice.
“Well I guess this is it.” If he tried to hide his disappointment at the night coming to an end, he failed. 
You snickered at his obvious reluctance to conclude your night out, gathered your belongings, and stepped out of the vehicle onto the damp pavement.
“See you on Mon-” your lips pressing against his cheek stopped his train of thought in its tracks. 
“See you Monday!” you said before jogging up your apartment’s steps, praying that you don’t fall every step of the way. 
For the rest of his journey home, Chris was on Cloud 9. He could still feel your chapstick on his cheek when he got home and got into bed. He really wasn’t sure how he was going to get anything done on Monday with all the hearts and rainbows dancing around in his head but he was sure of a few things. 
1. He was going to ask you out on a date as soon as humanly possible. 2. He would need to get up early to pick out his outfit for work on Monday. 3. He owed Changbin. A lot. 
He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t contain how happy he was. He felt like a kid the night before a highly anticipated field trip. Way too excited to close his eyes long enough for sleep to even be a possibility. Giving up on sleep for the time being, he picked up his phone. A text this late  wouldn’t be weird right? He had to make sure you got home safe! He was a gentleman after all.
You completed your nightly skin care quicker than you ever have. You wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible. Partly so you could pretend you didn’t just give a kiss to your coworker and partly because you could not wait two days to see him again. You found yourself still awake hours after being dropped off, staring at your ceiling not even knowing what to do with you nervous energy when you got a text.
chris 🗂️ : Made it home safe?
You snickered at his message, typing your own and hitting send. 
you: The uber took my right to my door lol 
Chris groaned into his pillow. Of course you made it home safe, he was there. Embarrassed as he might be, he types a response.
chris 🗂️ : Oh yea lol forgot chris 🗂️ : I guess I was a little distracted
You want to scream. When did he get so smooth? 
chris 🗂️ : Before you go to bed, I have a quick question.
He doesn’t wait for your response, he’s too eager.
chris 🗂️ : Do you think I would be able to take you out on a date?
If you didn’t know your answer before tonight, you definitely do now. 
you: Will we get to go to the cake shop?
Chris chuckles and sends his response.
chris 🗂️ : Lol of course. Pinky promise.
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a/n: I wrote this to cope with the fact that when I go back to work tomorrow there will be no bang chan for me to give kisses to. Please pray for me in these trying times 🥲
m.list
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bwabys-scenarios · 3 months
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HEAR ME OUT, TOJI AND NANAMI BEING INTO CHUBBY WOMEN??? (from jjk ofc-) what’s ur take on which characters from jjk would be into chubby girls? 😋
JJK men that prefer a chubby wife
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
warnings: breeding, pussy eating, sex, cockwarming, fem reader
NSFW JJK taglist: @iluvies @zeniiis @highbats69
If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned !
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Gojo
-not only does he have a preference for plump women, he’s not afraid to make it known. Sure he’s dated mostly thin women through high school and college, but that was before he knew the pleasure of holding onto a pair of fat thighs as he fucked into chubby pussy…
-you’re his EVERYTHING he’s completely in love and shows you off as often as he can. there’s no room to be self conscious or doubt your beauty, because he’s absolutely head over heels and will show you in and out of the bedroom.
-he’s got to have you on his lap any time you’re around, including if you come to bring him lunch when he’s teaching class. it’s a little embarrassing, but it’s how he shows his love!
-there’s nothing that can tear him away from your chubby pussy once he’s got his tongue in you I fear… honestly he’s fallen asleep between your legs more than once…
Nanami
-he enjoys soft and comfortable things, and you’re one of them. he finds himself resting his head on your breasts or belly when he’s stressed!
-Nanami is a pretty big, muscular man, so the extra cushion on your body lets him let loose a little more than he would be able to with a thin woman
-this man would do absolutely anything for you. he just adores pampering you with sweets and new clothes. when he has you to come home to, he can do pretty much anything.
-he just loves having your fat, plump ass resting on his lap as you keep his cock nice and warm. he’ll rub a hand over your chubby tummy, whispering about how soon, your belly will swell with his child, and how good of a mommy you will be!
Choso
-Choso had no preferences before he met you, and after he did see your plump figure approach Itadori with a big smile on your face, his life was changed forever. It didn’t help that you were a kind college student that was taking care of his baby brother, you were PERFECT!
-he doesn’t understand human beauty standards, so he was genuinely shocked when Itadori informed him you had never been with a man before. you are literal perfection?? oh hell no he’s gotta wife you up with HASTE
-he follows you around like a lovesick puppy, sometimes growling at anyone that gets too close. he can’t keep his eyes off your fat, swaying hips or your cute chubby cheeks that look pink each time you catch his staring
-it wasn’t long before he couldn’t help it and had you sprawled out on the bed, his face buried in your pussy as he confessed and apologized all at the same time
Toji
-sir is absolutely smitten with you. Your cute chubby cheeks that turn pink when he gives you attention, the soft sway of your plump hips when you walk away, and most importantly that tummy that he’d love to squeeze while he bounces you on his cock… dreamy sigh…
-you’re his sweet little princess, and he just loves to get you all riled up. the way you puff out your cheeks and pout at him after he just fucked you on his fingers just to pull away right before you could orgasm gets him hard
-he loves to fuck your thighs and get them all messy with his cum <3 don’t worry, he’ll always clean up his mess and give you a few orgasms as an apology, but he just loves the feeling of your soft, plush thighs surrounding his dick
-he’s a big fan of groping and grabbing at your ass when you walk by, and yes this extends to public settings. it’s a bit embarrassing, but he’ll buy you a piece of strawberry cake later to make it up for you
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messrsage · 4 months
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Hero
from @jegulus-microfic prompt: hero (words: 955)
“Harry got an A+ on his essay by the way,” James says as he finishes getting ready for bed.
Regulus is already snuggled up under the blankets, knees acting as a resting place for the book he’s currently reading.
“The one about who your hero is?” he asks. James nods, pulls a t-shirt over his head and goes into their bathroom to hang his towel back up again.
“Yep! Apparently his teacher was moved to tears by ‘the love that was so obvious’ in the essay. Says she’s rarely met a student more proud of their parent,” he says loudly, trying to make himself heard from the other room.
He’s coming back into their bedroom and joining Regulus under the covers just as Regulus puts his book on the bedside table.
“Well,” he says, voice teasing. “I bet this is doing wonders for your ego. I might have to humble you a bit more than usual from now on.”
James frowns, turning to face his husband.
“What?” he asks, confusion lacing his voice. “Reg, he didn’t write about me. He wrote about you, love.”
Regulus isn’t sure why that comes as a shock to him. That Harry would choose him as his hero.
He knew that Harry loved him just as much as he loved Harry but James was arguably the first person anyone would think of when thinking of the word ‘hero’.
James Potter was the human embodiment of the concept of heroes. Regulus was born to inhabit the meaning of something else, not quite the opposite but not anywhere near hero either. An anti-hero, perhaps.
So sue him for being shocked.
“Me?” he asks incredulously. “Why would he write about me?”
James sighs. Shuffles closer until they’re only a breath apart. He tucks a stray curl behind Regulus’s ear and Regulus has to repress a shiver when James’s finger drags across the shell of his ear. Even the gentlest of touch sets him on fire despite how long they’ve been together. He’d be more inclined to be embarrassed if James didn’t react the exact same way to his touch too.
“Regulus,” he says. “Harry loves you so much. You’re his father, why wouldn’t he want to write about you?”
Regulus bites his lip. He knows better than to tell James the truth. The idea of doing so causes his pulse to race, his stomach to turn. But he’d made a promise, a long time ago. To try to do better. Be better. For James. For Harry. And that included telling the truth.
“It’s just-“ he starts, unsure of how to get his thoughts across. How to translate his feelings into words in the way he wants them to be translated. He doesn’t want to be misunderstood. “It’s just shocking, I guess. You’re the hero. You saved Sirius. You saved me. You are the definition of a hero.”
James watches him for a moment, eyes roaming all over his face before he sighs and pulls Regulus close. He drops a kiss onto his curls. Breathes him in quietly. Tucks his chin over Regulus’s head.
“Baby, I didn’t save anyone. You saved yourselves. I only helped. If anything I’m a sidekick. You’re the hero. You literally tried to save the world! And, most importantly, you’re Harry’s world. You’re the one who stayed home with him when I was out doing missions. You’re the one who somehow makes an entire professional quidditch schedule work around drop offs and recitals and games and meetings. You are a hero, love. You just can’t see it the way the rest of us can.”
“But I was-“
“Was being the keyword in that sentence. You did what you had to do to survive. To get a better chance at saving all of us. What you did is not who you are. And you are so good, Regulus.”
Regulus can feel tears prickling in his eyes. He does his best to blink them away but he sniffles a little bit anyway as he clings harder to James’s chest, wrapping himself around him as if he were a snake or a vine. James only holds him harder, grip tight and secure. It feels like home.
“I can’t believe he wrote about me,” he whispers, voice incredulous.
“I can,” James whispers back. Regulus leaves a kiss right there on his collarbone before he moves back.
“Remind me to make him pancakes for breakfast tomorrow,” he says.
James snorts.
“Oh, I see how it is. I had to spend months to even get you to call me by my first name but Harry writes one essay and he gets pancakes? I should’ve know flattery only works on you if it’s through the written word.”
“Are you comparing yourself to our nine year old, Potter?”
James gasps.
“Take that back!”
Regulus bites down on his lip to keep from smiling but it’s a battle he’s losing fast.
“Never,” he says simply.
Before James has a chance to retort he’s taking James’s glasses off for him and putting them on his bedside table, the way he does every night.
“I love you,” he says because he feels like it’s extra important that James knows it right now. Because his heart is so full with love and gratefulness for James and the family they’ve made together. The home that’s theirs and theirs alone.
“I love you too,” James says.
By the time he’s closed his eyes and drifted off James is already snoring beside him. They sleep like that for the rest of the night, two parenthesis meeting in the middle where their hands clasp. And if Regulus dreams of the two of them clad in spandex, flying and fighting crime that night nobody needs to know.
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furiohsaa · 1 year
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I cannot belive that I genuinely feel kind of hurt that I'm going around Matinaise on a round the clock parade of Harry Du Bois's Most Humiliating Moments, all of which Kim has been privy to, and he can't even tell me that he listens to a weird radio station????
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headkiss · 11 months
Text
steady hand
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader
summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.
word count: 6.1k
warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!
a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33
People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.
Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.
Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.
You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.
Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.
It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.
“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.
You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.
You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.
“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.
That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.
He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.
You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.
“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”
“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”
You fight a wince, “you heard that?”
“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”
“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”
You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.
“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.
“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”
Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.
“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.
He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.
While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.
Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.
It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.
Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?
The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.
“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”
You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”
He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”
“Sorry?”
“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”
“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”
Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”
Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.
Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.
-
You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.
There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.
The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.
Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.
It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.
Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.
Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.
You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.
“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”
“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”
You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”
It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.
“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”
“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.
You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”
Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.
His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.
Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.
“Is this a bad time?” You ask.
“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”
“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”
“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.
“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”
Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.
You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”
Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.
“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.
He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.
Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.
Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”
He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.
You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.
His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.
“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.
Get it together.
“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”
When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.
“Is that what you needed?” He asks.
You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.
“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way.”
Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.
Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.
“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.
“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”
“Well, thank you again.”
“It’s no problem, really.”
Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.
-
Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.
Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.
You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.
The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.
You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.
It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.
‘Thank you :)’
He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.
It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.
You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.
About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.
The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.
It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.
“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.
It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.
“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.
Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.
He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”
You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”
“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.
You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”
“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”
“You don’t have to-”
Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”
“Okay.”
You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.
Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.
“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”
You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.
“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.
His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.
Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.
You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.
“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”
“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.
“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.
Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.
“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”
Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.
You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”
“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.
You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.
You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.
Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.
“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.
“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.
-
It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.
He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.
Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.
You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.
The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.
You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.
“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.
You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.
A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.
Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.
You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”
“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”
“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”
“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”
He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.
“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”
Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.
A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”
There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.
“Let me drive you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”
He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”
It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.
“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”
You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.
“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.
You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”
“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.
It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.
“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”
“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”
“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”
“Exactly.”
You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.
Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”
Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.
Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.
“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.
“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.
“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”
Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.
“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”
“I notice a lot of things,” he says.
Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.
It was inevitable, really.
“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”
The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.
“Thank you for driving me.”
“No problem, sweetheart.”
His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.
It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.
“Get in safe, okay?”
“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”
He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.
“For my peace of mind,” he says.
“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”
“See you, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.
He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.
-
+1
There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.
He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.
It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.
They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.
His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.
Then, he sees you walking up to his office.
Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.
You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.
You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”
He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.
“Do you need help?”
Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?
“That would be great.”
He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.
You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.
His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.
“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.
“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.
“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”
“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.
“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”
“Well, thank you, then.”
You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.
“All done,” you say.
Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Hotch.”
Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.
They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.
Hotch closes the space for you.
His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.
You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.
The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.
It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.
You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.
“You’re right, I’m so-”
“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”
You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.
“I’d really like that, Hotch.”
“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Call me Aaron.”
When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.
thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3
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the pepper thing | l.m.h
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pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... domestic fluff, established relationship, minho loves kisses so so so much
it's a routine, it's a tradition, it's a lifestyle. it's the pepper thing.
wc... 1.4k words a/n... this is inspired by a little something that @astraystayyh and i rambled about 🫠 i hope you enjoy it because i have not stopped thinking about this since it came into my mind!!! also thank you so much for 400 followers! almost halfway to 1k i'm mindblown tbh!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Lee Minho is a morning person. He loves waking up early, making breakfast, playing with his sleepy cats, and watching movies. But most importantly, he loves kissing you awake.
Whenever the sunlight makes its way through the curtains and pries his eyelids open, Minho is more than happy to be greeted by your sleeping figure. It's the greatest way to start his day. He still remembers the first time you woke up next to each other—the day your little tradition began.
It was the morning after Minho had finally moved into your apartment. You had fallen asleep in your now shared bed, his arms embracing your body and pulling you to his chest. When he woke up, he had moved further away from you, not so much that you were no longer cuddling, but just enough so that he could see your face. The side of your face was buried into the pillow, squishing your lips into a slight pucker. Your hair was sticking out in multiple directions and your shirt was twisted. He thought it was the cutest sight in the world. Lord, he's whipped.
He watched your sleeping figure with so much love in his gaze, mapping out your entire face to store in his memory forever. As his eyes trailed over your every feature, they halted at your mouth, taking extra time to admire the curve of your cupid's bow.
Slowly, Minho found himself leaning in, pressing a kiss as light as air onto your soft lips. 'More,' he thought, 'I need more.' He moved his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to your cheek, then to your jaw, smothering your entire face in featherlight kisses.
"Baby, what are you doing?" you asked in a soft, sleepy voice. Minho had been pressing kisses to your collarbones at that point, but upon hearing your voice, he stopped and buried his face in your neck. Embarrassed, he mumbled, "Nothing..."
You giggled as he hid away and you teased him more. "Oh, you're just sooo in love with me aren't you?" Minho groaned. "You just have to kiss me 24/7, huh? You love me so much you can't keep your lips off me."
"Shut up, shut uppp," he whined into your neck, making you laugh even more.
"How about you make me?" You pulled him away from your neck, staring into his eyes as if challenging him to do something. He took you up on that challenge, crashing his lips into yours, shutting you up like you asked.
Ever since then, Minho has woken you up by peppering kisses all over you every morning with no fail. Sometimes, when you call him out on it, he'll just ignore you and continue kissing your body, too busy to do anything else.
It was a gloomy morning. In contrast to the bright, shining light that usually woke Minho up, the light pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window forced him out of his slumber. He opened his eyes to your back facing him. Your oversized shirt, which was originally his, was hanging off your shoulder, presenting him with a new opportunity. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, slowly trailing up to the back of your neck.
"Mmm, that tickles, baby," you whispered as he kissed the sensitive spot on your nape, but he wasn't paying attention to you, too preoccupied to process the words coming out of your mouth. Only after he was done pressing kisses to your backside did he greet you a good morning, but could you blame him? He just loves giving you kisses!
Every single day, Minho wakes up before you and peppers your face with several kisses like his life depends on it. At this point, it's become a necessity in your daily routine.
One morning, you miraculously woke up before your boyfriend. His hair was disheveled and his lips were parted ever so slightly. As he lay on his side, facing towards you, you couldn't help but notice his eyes. His long, pretty eyelashes were so perfectly scattered among his closed eyelids. You leaned in, your warm breath gently blowing against his lashes. You softly kissed under his eye, your lips tenderly brushing his face. Slowly, you peppered more kisses around his face, starting around his eyelids, then moving to his nose, then to the corner of his mouth. As you were about to connect your lips with his own, Minho opened his eyes, making contact with yours.
"Honey?" Your mouths were mere centimeters apart. "This is usually my job." You closed the gap and kissed him. Minho sighed sleepily into the kiss and you could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Pulling away, you returned his smile. "I thought I'd mix things up," you kissed him again. "Why, do you not like it?"
Minho laughed a bit as you continued kissing around his face. "No, I don't like it," he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "I love it, and I love you."
This became your little tradition. Every morning, whoever woke up first would pepper kisses all over the other, starting the day with giddy smiles fixed on your faces. Even if you had fought the night before, it was all forgotten the moment you felt Minho's lips on your forehead, or the moment he felt your lips on his cheek.
Today, however, Minho woke up to your side of the bed empty. He furrowed his brows, disappointed at the unusual absence of the featherlight kisses all over his face. He dragged himself out of your shared bedroom, plodded around the apartment to look for you, and let himself fall back on the couch when he couldn't find you.
After about a half-hour, the front door opened and you entered your home, holding grocery bags in both hands. You set them down on the kitchen counter, peeking into the living room to see Minho watching something on the TV.
"Hi baby, did you sleep well?" You shouted from the kitchen, putting away the groceries. No response.
"Babe? Are you okay?" Nothing.
You walked over to where your boyfriend was sitting. His eyes were glued to the TV, not even sparing you a glance.
"Lee Minho," you said in a half-joking, half-serious voice, "did I do something wrong?"
Finally, he looked at you, lips contracting to a pout. He mumbled something so softly, you couldn't understand what he said. You sat next to him, taking one of his hands in your own. "Could you repeat that, baby? I can't hear you."
Pouting even harder, he repeated louder for you. "You didn't do the pepper thing."
You shot him a confused look, making him roll his eyes playfully. "The pepper my face with kisses thing! I woke up and you were gone, and you didn't give me any kisses at all."
You laughed incredulously. "Seriously, that's all you're sulking about?"
Unimpressed, Minho pulled his hand away from yours and crossed his arms. "It's a very serious matter, actually. You broke our morning tradition! You betrayed me!"
"I'm sorry for leaving without honoring our tradition," you smiled as he continued to pout at you, "but I went out to buy some ingredients so I could make breakfast for you. And, I even bought more of the new pudding you really like."
Though his eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite snack, a pout was still plastered on his face. "Okay, then. But you still have to make it up to me."
"Yeah? And how do you propose I do that?"
Minho looked you dead in the eye. "Do the pepper thing."
Still giggling, you placed your hands on either side of Minho's face, squeezing his cheeks and forcing his lips from a pout to a pucker. You kissed his forehead, then under each of his eyelids, then on the tip of his nose. "Feel better now?"
Shaking his head, Minho replied, "Not quite yet." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He pulled you by your waist, bringing you to his lap. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging it slightly to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. When he pulled away from you, Minho had a lovesick expression written all over his face. "Now I feel better than ever."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
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