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pathologicalreid · 3 months

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stuck between a rock and a hard place | S.R.

You, an undercover agent, uncover a hidden secret of the country's largest operation, putting your life in danger and under the protection of the BAU.

who? spencer reid x fem!FBI!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, hospitals, medical inaccuracy, drugs, sex crimes/trafficking, attempted sa, reader works in sex crimes. mentions foyet and also 6x24 (supply and demand). established relationship. word count: 7.7k a/n: this has been sitting in my wip folder for far too long. i am now emotionally attached to these two. i will write more of this specific pairing because now all i want is for them to be happy.

Spencer

It wasn’t every day that men and women in suits piled into the BAU carrying evidence boxes, everyone stood up at their desks. Spencer watched as Andi Swann followed in behind the other agents, not even bothering to greet the team as she went straight to Emily’s office.

Prentiss opened the door, letting Andi in before beckoning for Reid to join them. This had to be about you.

Ignoring the way his heart rate spiked, Spencer stood up from his desk and went up to Emily’s office. On the other side of the bullpen, the rest of the team filed into the roundtable room.

“Spencer, have a seat,” Emily offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

Glancing at Agent Swann, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “No, I’ll stand.”

Andi cleared her throat, looking at Spencer, she spoke, “Y/N missed her last two check-ins. As her next of kin, I need to notify you to let you know that as of now, the FBI is considering her missing.”

He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly to be mad, but he’d seen this before. Years ago, an agent in Andi’s unit missed her check-ins and the BAU helped find her. More than that, he knew how much Andi cared about her agents, so he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.

“Section Chief Cruz has asked that the BAU help to recover Y/N,” Emily said, looking at Spencer. “You know I have to tell you that you can’t be on this case,” she explained, leaning against her desk, eyes flickering as she tried to read Spencer’s expression.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at Emily, “Y/N’s gone missing, and I’m not allowed to help look for her?”

Sympathetically, Prentiss shook her head, dark hair swaying with the movement. “You know it’s a conflict of interest to be involved with a loved one’s case.”

“Isn’t that kind of what the BAU does?” He could’ve rambled off a list of BAU agents who worked on cases involving their loved ones – including himself and Emily.

Turning to face Agent Swann, Emily suggested she join the rest of the team in the roundtable room. She waited until the door was closed before speaking again, “When’s the last time you saw Y/N?”

Closing his eyes, he remembered the morning of the day you left, the both of you had stayed up late as if you could delay your departure, but the last time he saw you was when he dropped you off at the Sex Crimes Unit before making his way up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit. “We haven’t even spoken since she left,” he answered, almost a month ago now.

“Is there a chance she tried to reach you or her family?” Emily asked. She had to ask, he knew that, but it didn’t make the questions any less ridiculous to him.

Shaking his head, he began to pace around the office, “No, she wouldn’t have done that. She follows the undercover playbook obsessively. She always said freestyling was like signing your death certificate.” He tried. He tried to get you to leave him breadcrumbs, but you never did.

Nodding, Emily watched as he paced back and forth “When did you get married?”

Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he stopped in his tracks, “When I came back after The Believers. It was the next day.” You had offered to sleep on the couch in an attempt to give him space when he asked you to go to the courthouse with him. That was two months ago now.

He didn’t want space. Not from you. Never from you.

Finally, he sat down.

“Did you tell anyone?” Emily asked, sitting down in the chair next to him. “Did you have a witness to sign your marriage certificate?”

Nodding, Spencer reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and produced three rings, his wedding ring, your engagement ring, and your wedding band. You didn’t have the time to get them soldered together yet. “Rossi was our witness,” he responded, “He was the only one who answered his phone.” He slipped his ring on and closed his fist around your two rings.

After a moment, Emily stood, “I’m going to speak with the rest of the team, but I won’t tell them anything I don’t think is pertinent to the case.” Which was her way of saying ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ “Stay in here as long as you need, Spence,” she offered before walking out, shutting the door tightly behind her.

He thought of the last night you were together. Spencer tried to check in with you, he told you that if your job ever became too much, you just had to tell him, and he’d be there. What he neglected to tell you was that he was beginning to feel like your job was too much for him.

You had given him the opportunity to hold you close, and instead, he let you slip through his fingers.

Opening his fist, he looked down at your rings and the indent they had left on his palm, slipping them back into his pocket before he walked over to the roundtable room. Everyone paused what they were doing to look up at him.

Spencer just shrugged and looked at Emily, “I can’t just do nothing.”

In response, Emily nodded solemnly and suggested he go through the case files with Matt.

It had been hours. The sun had set, jackets had been shed, and takeout had been ordered. The clock behind him showed it was nearly midnight, meaning it had been almost two days since anyone had last heard from you.

“Oh god,” Penelope said, her voice cutting into the thick silence of the roundtable room. Her fingers began frantically typing on her laptop.

Spinning in the office chair, Spencer wheeled over so he could look at the screen, vaguely aware of Emily hovering above him, “What is it? What did you find?”

She hit the keyboard so hard he thought they might break, but she answered, “The trauma center at Johns Hopkins reported a Jane Doe brought in a few hours ago. She matches Y/N’s description.”

“Did they run prints?” Andi asked, of course, there would be red tape if the hospital tried to run your prints, seeing as you were undercover.

Another tap and dozens of files opened, “It looks like she went right into surgery. Uh, the EMTs reported she was listing off a string of numbers when they brought her in… 265D019Z?”

Spencer swallowed thickly, “That’s Y/N’s badge number.”

Shaking her head, JJ looked over at the map of DC on the wall, “It’s a two-hour drive to Baltimore from here.”

“But it’s a thirty-minute flight, Reid, Tara, Swann, and Alvez go. The rest of us will look into what happened from here,” Emily doled out responsibilities, nodding at everyone as the team broke.

Spencer stayed still, still looking at Penelope’s screen, his eyes flickering over the documents. Words jumped out at him, drugged, punctured, and knife. It made his stomach churn. How had you gotten to Baltimore? Your unit had you set up in an apartment near the Hill. When did you travel from the district to Baltimore?

The thirty-minute flight felt like it was hours long, the drive from the airstrip to the hospital dragged on, but thankfully Emily had called the hospital ahead of time to let them know who you were and who was coming for you.

A doctor stopped the four of you from going into the room, a police officer was already stationed outside of the room, and the blinds were closed. Please, Spencer wanted to plead, please just let me see her.

“She’s weak, she just came down from recovery and she hasn’t fully woken up yet,” the doctor said, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t in good faith let you go in there and badger her with questions. Not with no one in there to focus on her well-being,” she ordered. The doctor stared the four of them down with piercing gray eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer peeked through the doorway when a nurse exited your room. “She’s my wife, I’ll advocate for her,” he responded, hoping the doctor would let him through. He could feel Tara and Luke staring, but he didn’t care.

Nodding, the doctor continued sizing Reid up, “Alright, but just you, for now. She’s not awake enough to be questioned anyway.” Stepping to the side, the doctor let Spencer through before blocking the doorway to everyone else.

In the worst way possible, you took his breath away. Your skin was sallow, you had an IV, nasal cannula, and a chest tube out the left side. Walking to your right, he took a seat next to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your bloodied knuckles – evidence that you had put up one hell of a fight. “Oh sweetheart, what did they do to you?” He whispered even though he knew you wouldn’t answer.

Reaching over you, he smoothed your hair from your face, your skin was clammy, probably as a result of blood loss. It looked like they were still transfusing, so you had probably lost a considerable amount of blood.

Shuffling the seat closer to you, Spencer took your hand in his. The doctor came back in holding a tablet, “Dr. Reid?”

He hummed in response, not daring to take his eyes off of you. “What happened to her? Why did she need surgery?”

“She had been bleeding out in an alley, according to the police officers who reported to the scene. The other agents are talking to them now,” the doctor said, tapping a few buttons on the tablet. “She had been stabbed several times in the upper left side, we went in to repair damage to her spleen, liver, and lung. There was some strain to her heart, it appears she was drugged before she was stabbed.”

He intently watched the steady rise and fall of your chest before he spoke up again, “Is she going to be okay?”

Setting the tablet down, the doctor paused before answering, “We’ll know more when she wakes up.”

Spencer leaned back in the chair, finally taking his eyes off of you and looking at the doctor, “Was there anything… did they…” He felt ridiculous, having spent the better part of his adult life in the BAU, and he couldn’t even put the words together.

To his relief, the doctor shook her head, “There were no injuries that suggested she was sexually assaulted.”

Reading the doctor’s badge, Spencer nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Herman.”

“Hit the call button when she wakes up, we’ll need to evaluate her pain and other treatment,” the doctor said, gathering her things before walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind her.

Spencer kept his eyes on you, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, every once in a while, his phone rang, but he didn’t have the energy to talk on the phone. When his phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and checked the messages.

Penelope Garcia: How is she? Spencer Reid: Still sleeping. Penelope Garcia: How are you? Spencer Reid: Not sure.

Setting his phone on the table, screen down, he watched you again, every once in a while, your nose would twitch, or your eyes would flutter. Every time he would hold his breath, hoping you’d open your eyes.

He waited, and about an hour after he had arrived, a small, keening noise came from you. His head snapped up at the sound, your eyes were still closed, but you were moving. “Y/N?” He whispered hesitantly, not wanting to wake you up if you weren’t ready. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, not sure if he should keep waiting or if he should hit the call button.

You were muttering something, talking to someone in your sleep, when suddenly you jerked away. Instinctively, Spencer put his hands on your shoulders to stop you from tearing your stitches, and it was that touch that caused your eyes to snap open. “No, no, no, no,” you babbled, frantically looking around the hospital room.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, keeping his hands on your shoulders, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.”

With wide eyes, you looked up at him and mouthed the word ‘Baltimore.’ As if you were trying to figure out how you had ended up in Baltimore, something the BAU still hadn’t figured out. “I thought I…” Your voice was nothing more than a rasp, but with the bruises he could now see littering your neck, that didn’t surprise him much. “Did you see it?”

Spencer pushed the call button without you noticing, “Did I see what, love?” He asked, keeping his voice low as he gently sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room, “Is Andi here?" Your voice was tight, like you were struggling to breathe. "I need to talk to Andi.”

Helplessly, Spencer watched as the number signifying your heart rate jumped, “Not just yet, alright?” He said, looking up when the doctor and a nurse came through the door.

The doctor introduced herself and started trying to get you to even out your breathing, one of the monitors was beeping like crazy until the nurse hit a button on it.

All he could do was watch, making sure he didn’t get in the way. Listening in to words about medications and making a mental note to research everything. “How’s your pain, Y/N? On a scale from one through ten.” The doctor asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like a seven? When I breathe it’s more like a nine,” you answered, every word was strained. The doctor flashed a light in your eyes, “That isn’t helping,” you said through gritted teeth.

The doctor said something to the nurse, prompting her to nod before pushing something through your IV. After a few moments, Spencer watched as your heart rate lowered and your body visibly relaxed into the mattress. You nodded softly when the nurse asked if that was better.

Dr. Herman left and the nurse scrawled some notes down on your chart, introducing herself as Amelia before she left as well.

“Oh no,” you whispered, looking in the direction of the door. “Is the whole BAU here? How badly did I fuck up?”

Quickly, Spencer shook his head, “You didn’t, at all. It’s just me, Tara, and Luke,” he tried to reassure you as best he could without knowing the full story. “Do you feel up to talking?” He asked, smoothing your hair away from your face.

You nodded gently, “I need to talk to Andi. Alone, if it’s okay with you.”

“I can wait right outside in the hallway,” he offered, holding your hand in his and skimming the pad of his thumb over top of your knuckles.

You hummed contentedly, “Could you see if I can have water?”

Grateful to have something to do, Spencer stood up, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the room, garnering the attention of the agents who were waiting in the hallway, all of them staring at Spencer expectantly, “Andi, she wants to talk to you.”

The Unit Chief nodded and disappeared into the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

He was gone for three minutes, that was the time it took him to walk to the nurses’ station and ask if you were allowed liquids and back, but when he returned the door to your room was wide open. “Where did they go?” He asked, looking over at Tara.

She was still leaning against the taupe hospital walls before nodding in the direction of the red exit sign, “Swann was in there for maybe two minutes before she came out in a huff, she took Alvez with her.” Lewis spoke calmly like it didn’t necessarily mean anything to her.

But it did to him. Walking back into your room, he stood at the side of your bed, “What did you tell Andi that you didn’t want me hearing?”

“Huh?” You sounded tired – rightfully so. Your pupils were dilated, which told Spencer that the drugs that the doctors had given you were working.

It comforted him that you weren’t in as much pain, but you were still hiding something from him. “You asked me to leave while you talked to Andi because you didn’t want me to hear what you were telling her. What did you tell her?”

Your face softened as your eyes filled with a different kind of hurt, “Don’t profile me.” You were too tired to hide the pain in your voice.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “Don’t lie to me,” He countered. You were lying by omission, but what was worse was that you might’ve been putting yourself in danger.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered.

Spencer’s chest tightened as he watched your eyes fill with tears, he sat down on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think I’d leave you, darling?”

Your eyes were half-closed, “because you…” your voice trailed off and he squeezed your hand to get your attention. “When Scratch had Emily, you wanted to kill him,” you murmured.

The air had been knocked out of his lungs. You hadn’t been talking about a divorce. You were saying that you could identify your assailant, and you didn’t want Spencer to know. “I won’t go,” he whispered, “I’ll be right here.”

“It was Jake,” you mumbled, barely able to open your mouth as you fought your exhaustion.

That hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. He swallowed thickly, “Jake did this to you?” He asked slowly, looking at your hand, your fingers intertwined.

Minutely, you shook your head, “Jake blew my cover, Spence.” Yawning, you proceeded to mumble about him doing it on purpose.

Untangling your fingers, Spencer reached out and smoothed your hair away from your forehead, “Get some sleep, angel. I love you.”

You hummed an ‘I love you’ back, and the next moment your eyes were shut.

A nurse came in and asked for a moment while she checked the output of your chest tube, ushering Spencer and Tara out. “Okay, I’ll bite, who’s Jake?” Tara asked, putting a hand on her hip as she looked expectantly at Reid.

“Jake is her partner. When she’s not undercover and just out in the field, they’re partners,” Spencer explained.

Tara pursed her lips thoughtfully, “So, he would’ve known that she was undercover.”

Nodding as the newly added weight of the situation threatened to pull him down, Spencer turned and faced you, watching as the nurse examined you as you slept. “He blew her cover on purpose,” he reached up and rubbed his eye. Jake knew exactly what he was doing when he blew your cover, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you begged Spencer not to leave you.

“We have to go back in and ask her more questions,” Tara said.

Usually, Spencer agreed with Tara, but not this time. He saw the monitors you were hooked up to, he read your chart, and he watched the concerned looks on the nurses’ faces. They all told him that you weren’t stable enough to be speaking, let alone a cognitive interview. “No,” Spencer said finally.

Clearing her throat lightly, Tara stood next to him in the doorway, “We can’t let them get away, Reid.”

“And I can’t lose her,” he rebutted, ignoring the way his voice broke in his desperation.

Stepping back slightly, the other agent nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll call Emily. You go sit with her.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice; he pulled a chair up impossibly close to your bedside and draped his jacket over the back of it before loosening his tie and sitting down.

You

When you woke up, it was still dark outside, but the bright lights of the hospital room made it hard for you to get any real rest. You were pleased to find that, true to his word, Spencer was right next to you when he woke up.

He was sleeping, resting his head on his hand with his wrist bent awkwardly. “Spence,” You whispered, clearing your throat, “Spencer.” You couldn’t reach out to touch him, but you wanted to wake him up, so his wrist wasn’t sore.

Jolting awake, he looked at you, “Hey, did you just wake up? How do you feel?”

It was a weird question, you felt like an absolute dumpster fire. “Better,” you whispered, “less hurt, achier. Sore. I don’t know, my head feels fuzzy,” you rambled, trying to move higher up on the hospital bed, but being limited by the chest tube. “How long do I have to have it?” You asked, staring at the plastic tubing as if you could make it go away via the power of suggestion.

“At least through the night, but it could be longer,�� he said, reaching over and smoothing over the edges of your blanket. “Do you know what they gave you?” Spencer asked, shaking out his wrist.

You hummed in response, “No, it was intravenous though. They were big on amphetamines, but it didn’t feel like a stimulant. Benzos maybe,” you told him, your voice was soft. The pain in your throat had subsided after being intubated during surgery, but you were still swollen from when Cal grabbed you.

None of this made sense to you. The one thing that bothered you more than anything else was why Cal stopped when Jake said to. It couldn’t have been as simple as the money.

Spencer must’ve noticed you burrowing into your memories, “You remember everything?” He asked gently.

He knew what he was implying, in more cases involving severe trauma, victims generally remember everything or remember nothing. It was lucky for law enforcement when they remembered, but bad for the victims. Bad for you. “Mostly,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he tried to reassure you, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

You hummed, “I don’t remember anything after they drugged me, just the stuff before. Just the…” Your voice trailed off as you returned to your confusion. “Who’s still here that I can talk to?”

He squeezed your hand comfortingly, “Do you feel up to it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice,” you answered him despondently.

Spencer nodded before he got up from his chair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he stepped out into the hallway and let Tara in.

The agent smiled at you gently, “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting down at a free chair at the end of your hospital bed, leaving the chair at your side available for Spencer to return to.

You gave your best attempt at returning the smile before you answered, “I think I’m going to make it.”

As Spencer sat back down next to you, placing a water cup on your bedside table, Tara opened a file and looked through it, “Can you start by telling me a little bit about your assignment? You were undercover as… Barbara?” She read from the file.

Nodding slowly, you held out your hand for Spencer to hold, “Yeah, but they called me Babs.”

Three days ago...

You shifted self-consciously in the gold dress. It was a silky, slippery number that displayed more than you particularly liked. Spencer would probably like it, but he’d hate how uncomfortable you were in it.

Inadvertently, you smiled at just the thought of your husband. It was late, so he was probably at home, reading next to the fireplace. Maybe he was on a case, off somewhere in the United States and saving lives.

It had been twenty-nine days since you had last seen him.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Babs,” Johnathan McCallister, better known as Cal, told you, reaching out and placing a hand on either one of your shoulders before placing a kiss on both cheeks.

Bashfully, you smiled at him, “You’re too good to me, Cal. I can’t believe you got me in!” Deep down, you knew tonight could be the night, you would be able to take down The Program. At least the D.C. chapter of it.

When it was over, you could be Y/N Reid again, instead of Barbara McFarston.

The Program took women around your age and sold them into sex slavery. The chapter in Washington D.C. was one of the most active, which made sense when you looked around the room and saw a majority of the people were elected officials – men and women alike.

Andi Swann had assured you that taking down this chapter would create a domino effect, causing the other chapters to topple. According to her, if you could take down D.C., Miami, and Los Angeles, The Program would most likely cease to exist.

Turning to ask Cal about the selection tonight, you were startled to see familiar gray eyes on your companion’s other side. You felt your façade slip, but only for a second before you pasted a brilliant smile back on your face.

You tilted your head to the side, “And who might you be?” You asked Jake, wondering if Andi had sent him in to get a status report on you.

“Jake Cohn,” he answered, and goosebumps spread over your exposed skin at his answer. He should’ve said William Jacoby, that was his identity for this case.

In horror, you watched as Jake leaned in to whisper something in Cal’s ear, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. You bit your tongue as Cal wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in tightly, “Let’s talk.”

You stumbled a little over your own feet and looked at Jake with wide eyes, the leader forcefully shoved you into a private room, one that would probably light up like a Christmas tree under a blacklight. “What’s wrong, Cal?” You asked, standing up straight.

He reached over and grabbed the back of your neck, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck in his fist. The force of it made you scrunch your shoulders up, “You’re a fucking fed?” He seethed, tossing you to the ground in one swift movement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to convince him. Tried to flip the script so that Jake was the liar instead of you.

Cal grabbed your throat next, holding you down on a booth seat. “Oh, Y/N… Jake’s been one of my best employees for years.” He said, chuckling at the betrayal in your eyes, he only laughed more when you kneed him in the gut. “Oh, I like it when they fight back.”

You shut your eyes tightly as you heard the clinking of his belt buckle, but they snapped back open when you heard the word, “Stop.”

“What? Did you want first go on her?” Cal asked, wiping his cheek – you must’ve scratched him in your struggle.

Jake cleared his throat and met your eyes, “We should keep her clean, you know?” He said, and for a moment you thought he was actually trying to help you, “Think about how much a clean fed would go for here. Especially in D.C.”

And just like that, your hopes were dashed, “he’s right,” you told Cal, trying to formulate a plan.

“Shut up, whore,” Cal spat, causing you to involuntarily flinch.

At least there’s nothing he could call you that you hadn’t heard before, in your line of work, people got very creative.

Cal looked at you, inspecting your neck where he had grabbed you before, “You’ll make me a lot of money, won’t you?” He said, rubbing a hand up and down your arm soothingly before poking you with a needle.

Your legs gave out beneath you, but Jake caught you before you hit the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d do this. I thought he’d kick you out, but I didn’t think…”

Looking up at him, your throat burned, and you weren’t sure if you were going to cry or throw up, but you shut your eyes. “No, you didn’t.” You don’t just casually tell the leader of a sex trafficking ring that the person with them is an FBI agent.

Present

“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Tara asked, scribbling something down in your file.

You nodded absentmindedly, “I think…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at Spencer, “I think Jake might’ve been in charge the whole time. Pulling the strings from behind the curtain while he waited for the perfect time to catch me off guard. That’s the only reason Cal would’ve backed off when Jake told him to,” You proposed your theory, not missing the way Spencer was holding your hand a little tighter than before.

Tara’s brows were raised, “Jake Cohn has worked in the bureau for almost a decade, it would be hard for him to evade detection for that long.”

“But he knows exactly how to evade it,” you rebutted. “He’d know all of the tricks from Sex Crimes and all of my tricks. He- He set me up,” you realized.

Spencer turned around and looked at your monitor, “Okay, let’s take a break. We can talk more later.”

Getting up, Tara let Spencer know she was going to call the rest of the team before she stepped back into the hallway.

“My chest hurts,” you said, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.

In response, Spencer smoothed your hair back in an attempt to comfort you. “Your heart is racing,” he whispered, “Take a deep breath, okay?”

You nodded slowly, breathing in deeply through your nostrils and letting the air collect in your lungs before blowing it out your mouth. Looking up at Spencer, worry plain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you came to a decision, “Spence?”

He bowed slightly closer to you so he could hear you better, “What is it, love?” He moved his hand, so it was gently cupping your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you whispered, “It’s too much.” The only thing you had left was to hope he knew what you were talking about, the words were too hard right now, but you felt them contributing to the burning in your chest.

“Okay,” he answered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about disappointing anyone.”

You practically melted back into the hospital bed; the weight of your job eased off of you. Nodding, you closed your eyes, “It’s good, this is good. I just feel crazy, but a good crazy.”

Spencer smiled at you, “Okay crazy,” he whispered, “I’m going to-“ He was abruptly cut off by his phone ringing, furrowing his brows, he swiped the screen and held the phone up to his ear, “Hey, JJ.”

Cocking your head to the side, you tried to listen to JJ’s side of the conversation, but either she was speaking quietly, or Spencer had his phone volume really low. From the way Spencer’s jaw tightened, you knew that this couldn’t be anything good.

He looked at you before looking at the door, “Do you know where?” He said in a tone entirely unfamiliar to you, it was low and steely. Reaching over you, he nimbly pressed the call button on your bed, “Okay, keep me updated.”

“Spencer, what is going on?” You asked as the nurse came into your room, faltering for a moment as she looked at the two of you.

Placing a hand on the bar of your hospital bed, Spencer looked at the nurse, “Do you have somewhere secure she can be moved to?”

The nurse looked shellshocked, surely the FBI occupying the hospital wasn’t an everyday occurrence, “I don’t… I don’t think so?” She seemed unsure of herself.

“Spencer,” you repeated his name.

He turned to look at you, “Jake’s here and he’s looking for you.” Turning back to the nurse, he pointed at you, “She has to be moved.”

“I don’t… I’m just a student, my preceptor is taking a break. I could try to find-“ The nurse stammered nervously. “We don’t usually just move people.”

Nothing about this situation was usual, but one look at Spencer told you this was life or death. Your life or your death. You sighed in defeat, “This is really going to suck.” Reaching over to your side, you gripped the tube that had been draining blood from outside your lung and pulled it out. Like ripping off a band-aid.

In the process, you tore the stitches holding it in place and set off all kinds of alarms, leading to a crowd of nurses and doctors charging into the room.

As someone held pressure down on where you were bleeding, someone said something about moving you to a sterile procedure room, and the nursing student trailed along, whispering “That was the stupidest smart thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

Everything was blurry when you woke up next and, through the blinds, you could see that the sun was finally rising. The warm, orange light peeking through like lines on a piece of paper.

“Hey,” Spencer said from right next to you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered.

You looked away from him, back towards the blinds, “Will you open them?” You rasped, your throat felt raw, and your body felt heavy.

He got up and ambled over to the window, twisting the mechanism until the sun poured into your room. “How are you feeling?”

“Heavy,” you whispered, the mental weight of the past several days was threatening to take you down, but physically you felt like Atlas himself, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Spencer hummed in response, “They sedated you, standard procedure for people who rip their own chest tubes out.” He adjusted the way your gown rested on your shoulders, “Luckily you didn’t do too much damage.”

You took a deep breath and leaned your head so you could look out the window. The outside felt so foreign to you now, you couldn’t remember the last time you had breathed real, fresh air. “So, what is the damage?” Your voice was little more than a murmur but with just the two of you in your room, it wasn’t hard to hear.

“You’re going to be fine; they think the tube can go later today. Then they’ll evaluate whether enough you’re strong enough to go home, it’ll probably be another couple of days,” He explained to you, matching your gentle tone. “Johnathan McCallister is in custody, and Jake Cohn is dead,” he told you, studying your face for any kind of reaction.

Closing your eyes, you felt white hot tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, laughing a little despite yourself. He probably thought you were losing it, crying over the death of someone who had nearly had you murdered.

The edge of your mattress dipped down slightly, and you opened your eyes to see Spencer sitting next to you, “You don’t need to be sorry, my love.” Gently, he rested a hand on your hip, skimming his thumb over the rough fabric of your hospital gown, “He was like family to you. I’m not sorry he’s dead – I’m not. I am sorry for that loss, though.”

Nodding, you felt it as your face crumpled, leading Spencer to lean down and hug you as best he could. “I’m sorry I scared you,” you said as he pulled away.

Your furrowed your brows in confusion as he reached into his pocket and produced your wedding ring, taking your left hand, he slid the rings on, “For better or for worse, right?”

A small smile grew on your face as the gem on your finger shimmered in the morning light, “for richer or for poorer,” you continued.

“In sickness and in health,” Spencer whispered, eyes flickering around the hospital room.

You reached up a shaky hand and cupped his cheek with your palm, “to love and to cherish.” You said, feeling a dopey, lovesick grin blooming on your face.

He turned his head and kissed the center of your palm, “until parted by death,” he finished, taking your hand in his.

“No dying,” you insisted, feeling your energy begin to drain, you started to understand why the doctors didn’t want you going home for a few days.

Spencer hummed in response, “You almost did. If you hadn’t been found when you were-“ his voice broke off and you had to tear your eyes away from his for a moment. “I still can’t believe you chose that,” he whispered, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Shrugging as if it was nothing, you melted back into the pillows, “I had a split second to weigh my options – get sold into sex slavery or get stabbed in the chest.”

“A catch-22,” he nodded, wrapping his head around your impossible decision. You couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take until the fear in his eyes left.

You shifted a little in the hospital bed, the sheets rustling as you did, “We get it, you’ve read Joseph Heller.”

He smiled at that, the light teasing seemed to bring brightness to his face, “What is it about blood loss that makes you think you’re funny?”

Laughing lightly, you squeezed his hand as tightly as you could manage, “I am funny. And I’m tired.”

“Go back to sleep then, baby,” he said softly, “it’ll all be here when you wake up.”

There was a party in your hospital room. It started with just Emily, coming in because you were finally up to seeing anyone other than Spencer, and it ended up being the entire BAU.

Someone had gone to the apartment and gathered clothes for you so that, once your chest tube was removed, you could put on real clothes. So now you were sitting up, wearing sweatpants and a ratty old college sweatshirt, and laughing with the BAU. You were leaning heavily on Spencer, who was also sitting on your hospital bed, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with keeping you steady.

Luckily for you, no one in the BAU wanted to ask about what had happened on your assignment, they were more interested in the rings that adorned your and Spencer’s fingers.

“I still can’t believe you two secretly got married,” Penelope said. “Of all of the times for me to not answer my phone.”

Next to her, Luke shrugged, “Honestly, I can believe it. It feels like a very Y/N and Reid thing to do.”

Gently, Spencer rubbed your back. His hovering was quickly going to become insufferable, but right now you were welcoming every touch with open arms.

“Well, we’ll have a party for the two of you. When you’re up for it, of course,” JJ said, smiling from where she was standing next to Emily.

You wanted to shake your head and tell them that it really wasn’t necessary, but asking the BAU to refrain from throwing a party was like asking a shark to stop swimming. Instead of debating, you just smiled and bobbed your head.

Eventually, Andi showed up, just as you knew she would. “Hey, guys,” Emily nodded in the direction of the doorway, “Why don’t we go raid the hospital cafeteria?”

After a few more hugs, including a lingering one from Garcia, the BAU, save for your husband, filtered out, and Andi made her way to the foot of your bed. “Hey,” you said, your voice was soft.

Nine years. You had spent nine years in the sex crimes unit. Spencer had done the math, you’d spent approximately seventy-six percent of that time undercover, missing birthdays, holidays, not ever really looking forward to the future. Until now.

You, the most decorated member of the sex crimes unit, were leaving.

Suspiciously, you eyed the files in Andi’s arms, one was a case file, the other a plain manila folder. She silently handed you the case file, and you shared a look with Spencer before flipping it open. “The Program is gone?” You asked, your eyes skimming the folder.

Swann nodded, her brown hair swaying with the movement, “The arrest of the leader of the D.C. chapter greatly contributed to that, but it was the death of the ringleader that took the remainder of The Program down.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded as you tried to process what she was telling you. Jake had been in charge all along. “Andi, I-“

“It was your intel that did it,” she cut you off. “From your last several assignments, everything you collected directly contributed to the downfall of this trafficking network. One of the largest networks the FBI has ever seen.”

She handed you the next file, labeled with only your name. You flipped it open, well aware that Spencer was reading from over your shoulder. “I don’t qualify for retirement,” you told her, furrowing your eyebrows, and looking at the papers in front of you. You didn’t qualify for retirement, and yet, you were looking at a retirement offer.

Your unit chief nodded understandingly, “I pulled some strings, with some help. Collectively, Prentiss and I know a lot of people.”

Spencer placed a supportive hand on your back, and you looked up at Andi. “I’m only thirty-two?” You asked, it wasn’t a clarification, it was a question.

“And yet,” she answered, “you’ve done more for the Bureau than most agents could hope to do in their whole career. This plan came from the director, Y/N. He wanted you to have it.”

Shaking your head, you handed the folder over to your husband so he could look through it. “I don’t… can I think about it?”

“He’ll want an answer soon but talk it over and give me a call when you’ve come to a decision,” she said, grabbing her things and making her way to the door. “And Y/N?”

You lifted your head up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, Andi?”

She smiled at you, a rare, real smile from her, “Make the right decision for you. You have a small army ready to support you through everything.”

Slowly, your gaze followed her out the door, waiting until you heard the latch of the door secure. Spencer handed the folder back to you, “What do you want to do?”

You flipped through the folder again, it was a lot of money, and there were a few different distribution options, but it was more than you felt you’d ever need. “I don’t really feel like I deserve this,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and rubbing the back of your neck. “The Bureau doesn’t offer early retirement like this, not without extenuating circumstances,” you continued.

“They did it with Hotch,” Spencer said, reading the file over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over to look at him, “That was way different, Haley was murdered by a serial killer.”

Spencer sighed, “I think you’re selling yourself short, darling. The Program was trafficking almost 12,000 people across the country. That’s almost 70 percent of the yearly total trafficking victims. You took them down,” he told you earnestly.

Your shoulders slouched forward, “I didn’t do it alone, though.”

“Didn’t you, though? They sent you in with no communication device, no emergency signal, and information that wasn’t even true. Your unit told you Johnathan McCallister was the leader of the ring, but it ended up being a decorated agent and you’re the one who figured that out,” Spencer spoke emphatically. “You almost died in the process, and now there are thousands of victims who are going to go home – all thanks to you.”

Wiping at your eyes, you looked at your husband, “You’re biased.” That felt true, but Spencer was the person who knew you best in the world.

“What’s holding you back?” He murmured gently, sweeping strands of your hair behind your ears.

Smiling unsurely, you closed your eyes, “Fear of the future. In the past nine years, the longest I’ve ever been home was four weeks. I don’t… What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head slowly, “it’s not my decision.” A diplomatic answer, you should’ve guessed.

“But what do you want me to do?” You pressed.

Sighing, you watched him weigh his options, “If my choices are you going back out into the field and getting hurt again, where maybe it doesn’t have this good of an outcome, or you, safe at home, where I get to see you more than approximately three months a year, then the choice is clear.”

When he laid it out for you like that, it was pretty clear. “Maybe I could finally see what all the BAU spouses are talking about. You know, how you’re never home,” you said. Some part of you always felt disconnected from the other BAU family members, Spencer wasn’t the one who was never home, you were.

Spencer laughed lightly, “We could celebrate your birthday together.” That was the one day you always missed. Almost six years together, and something always came up on your birthday.

“I’ve never had this before,” you whispered, there was still something about it that felt tentative, almost frail.

Smilingly softly, Spencer reached out and took your hand in his, “Had what before?”

You beamed, “A future to plan.” Everything was always laid out for you, every day was spent waiting for the next directive, a new assignment. “I mean, not in nine years.”

There were always dreams, late-night murmurs with Spencer about a house with a yard and kids running around, but they were just dreams. The nights when you were able to sleep next to each other. “Do you have plans for us?”

Nodding rapidly, you answered, “Oh yeah, you and me, I’ve got big plans for us.”

please remember to like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed :-)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer x retired!reader

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noxtivagus · 1 year

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rmb when ffxiv did that with ardbert 🥺

#🌙.rambles #🌙.vent #if you had the stength to take another step #could you do it?#oh dear i love ardbert very much #god ffxiv gives me so much hope n strength #i'll start working again or smth by 6 but for now #i wldn't consider myself materialistic #what hurts is less on that n more on what it emotionally means for me #that thing in my school the entrepreneur thing #i preordered for the ring n the two necklaces #the two necklaces r sold out alrdy #if i just. i finished filling up the form last night ffs if i submitted then or even earlier this morning #if i wasn't late then i #this is my fault i know n nothing won't change that but oh dear it hurts #i don't feel like eating #i just want to stop caring n jsut go to sleep or something #a lot of things have been weighing me down lately n #time goes by far too fast i can't. handle it well #i'll be fine i'll just force my way through ig #i'm so disappointed in myself w everything rn it's so heavy i can't do anything but #i need to. be productive. i'll force myself if i must idk i don't fucking know anymore haha #i'll force myself to fix things i'll just take in this endless pain #i don't know anymore but #time's passing by. i'll just force myself to be productive i need to stop this #i just want this to end someway somehow #i'm too tired i can't do anything anymore i don't want to think it's so overwhelming it hurts so much #too many other thoughts oh for fucks sake i dont want to think anymore rn #stop time i just want time to stop :<#i'm fine

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shotoh · 1 year

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all mine

SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 9.6k+

genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst

tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language

author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all

The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.

“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.

“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.

The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”

Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.

A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.

She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.

One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.

If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.

Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.

Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”

Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.

“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”

“But–”

“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.

“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”

Man, what an annoying woman.

Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.

His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.

“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.

But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.

Besides...

“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”

His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”

He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.

You.

“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.

After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.

While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.

The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.

Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.

Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.

You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.

The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.

Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.

“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.

Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.

Fuckin’ hell.

The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.

In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.

Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”

The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.

His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.

Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.

“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.

The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”

He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.

You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.

Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.

“You’re killing me here, dammit.”

You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”

He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.

Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.

He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.

“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”

The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.

Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.

Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.

The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.

He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.

“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.

Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”

“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.

Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”

“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.

“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”

He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”

“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”

“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.

“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”

“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”

Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.

Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?

To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.

Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?

This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.

“You free tomorrow?”

“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”

“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”

Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”

“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.

Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”

“Hold it, I still have a piece–”

“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”

“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.

With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.

“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.

“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”

Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,

“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”

There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.

The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.

Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.

Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.

Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.

While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.

“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.

“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”

“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”

You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.

“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.

“H… Hold the door!” she pants.

Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.

You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.

She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.

“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”

It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.

You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.

You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.

“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.

With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.

I thought I covered that…

You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.

You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.

You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.

Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”

She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”

You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?

You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.

The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.

“Heya, Katsu–”

“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.

You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.

He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”

“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.

“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.

“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.

“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”

Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”

Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.

“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.

After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”

“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.

“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.

Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”

“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”

“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.

“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.

As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”

You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.

The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.

You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.

“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.

You bite your lower lip. “Well…”

Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”

It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.

In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.

You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.

“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.

“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.

“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”

“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.

A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.

Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.

“You did well, princess.”

His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.

God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.

Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.

While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.

The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.

“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.

“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”

Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”

“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”

A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.

“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”

Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.

“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.

In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.

Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”

“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.

“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.

He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”

Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.

“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”

At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.

“Bend over.”

Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.

With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.

“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.

Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.

“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”

��Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”

At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”

Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.

“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.

“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.

“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.

Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.

“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.

The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.

“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.

“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”

Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.

“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.

“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.

Oh, fuck it.

As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.

You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.

“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.

“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.

By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.

With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.

Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.

“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point

“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”

“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.

Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.

“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”

“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.

Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.

After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.

“Feel sticky…”

“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.

Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”

“Fine. Such a princess…”

“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.

The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”

Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.

“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”

You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”

“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”

“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.

“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.

And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.

“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.

“What’s so funny?!”

“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”

At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.

“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.

The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.

“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.

“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.

And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.

When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.

“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.

“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.

You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”

“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.

“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”

The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.

#bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha fic #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugo x you #bakugou fic #mha smut #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki smut

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ddejavvu · 5 months

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hiii!! can i suggest some hotch x bau!wife!reader where reader is pregnant and she doesnt know, but at work she goes on about how she doesnt know whats wrong with her lately and spencer suggests that she might be pregnant and then she find out that she is!!

I love your writing sm btw😚😚😚

i think i might finally have enough time to write whole blurbs again :'))

"No flamin' hot for you today, Mrs. Hotchner?" Derek eyes your bag of plain cheetos where they lay open on your desk, and you grimace at his phrasing.

"God, no," You groan, "Don't make me sick."

"You love those things," His brows furrow, and he leans on the edge of your desk with one hand, his thick fingers splayed out over the wood, "I'm pretty sure your tongue is permanently stained red by now."

"I like them when I'm not in the middle of some weird stomach bug," You admit, "I woke up sick. I don't know what did it, but it was probably something Jack brought home."

Derek pointedly removes his hand from your desk, but he's kind enough not to tell you that he thinks you're contagious.

"Feel better, mama." He offers with something that you're sure is supposed to be a sympathetic smile, but looks a little more like a wince. Emily isn't so easily scared off, though, and she continues munching on the carrot sticks she'd brought for a snack.

"You look tired," She comments, and you almost want to take offense, "You were up all night with your stomach thing?"

"No, just when my alarm went off," You hum, swallowing a bite of your sandwich and trying not to heave at the texture, "It was nice enough to let me sleep, but-" Your sentence is cut off with a well-timed yawn, "I feel like I've been awake for days."

"Probably just your period," Penelope hums softly, trying and failing to keep your menstrual cycle a secret, which isn't surprising considering her track record with secrets. Everyone is kind enough to ignore the information she revealed, but when you shake your head and grumble, 'I'm late.', Spencer snaps to attention.

"You've missed a menstrual cycle, you're feeling extreme fatigue, and you're experiencing morning sickness?" Spencer verifies, and it's only with his discerning brain that you feel a weight sink in your stomach - preferably not your unborn baby.

"Oh my god," You breathe, your hand coming subconsciously up to your stomach, "Oh my- oh my god! Aaron, Aaron!"

Aaron rushes out of his office with the combined urgency of boss and husband, his eyes locking on you sharp with concern.

The air between you is thick as the members of your team grin up at Hotch, leaving you the silence to cheer, "I'm pregnant!"

His eyes are no longer viciously worried, their sharp edge melting into something far softer. His lips part, barely enough to let air through, until they crack and curve upwards in a dazzling smile that the bullpen doesn't often get to see.

"You took a test?" He confirms, but when you shake your head, he dims slightly.

"Reid said I am," You offer, and his zeal is back. You're sure he wishes he could wrap you up in a truly breathtaking embrace, complete with kiss far too passionate for your work environment, but you'll save it until you're at home, away from prying eyes and phone cameras. Regardless, you can feel his exhilaration from where you stand, and you're already planning out a nursery in your mind.

"He's probably more trustworthy than the plastic stick," Derek claps Reid on the back, and the doctor looks like the wind was knocked out of him. They're both smiling, though, and you feel JJ's hand on your shoulder, squeezing happily.

"Congratulations," Rossi pats Aaron on the shoulder, much gentler than Reid had been subjected to, "But a word of advice, Hotch? Don't have any more. If I have to split my inheritance another way, it won't be worth killing me over."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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yikesmary · 11 months

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PREGNANCY CRAVINGS — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where being pregnant comes with its struggles, and one of them just so happens to be the random pregnancy cravings. so, in the middle of the night, you try to sneak out and go to the convenience store nearby and buy something to satisfy your craving. however, your husband wakes up and insists to accompany you—even if he’s barely awake.

notes: the convenience store i've pictured in mind are like the ones i've seen in korea. but i don't really address where this occurs in, so use your imagination!

disclaimer: i'm not pregnant or have been pregnant so everything i write about pregnancy is most likely not true and therefore shouldn't be taken as fact (unless it's true, but make sure it's validated by an actual medical professional).

join my taglist!

“Oh, Cheol, you absolute asshole,”

You tried using all your strength to push your husband’s sleeping figure away from you, the heat coming from his body was too much for you. Trying to move him away was an obstacle, especially because he was working out more as of lately.

But finally, you had managed to cause enough noise in trying to move him that Seungcheol finally moved himself, scooting more onto his side.

You looked down at your pregnant belly and told your unborn child, “All that effort I put into moving him, and all he has to do is move himself?”

Huffing, you stood up and went to your closet, looking for an appropriate shirt to change into in order to go to the convenience store. In hindsight, you could probably have used your phone to order something, but the problem was you didn’t know what you were craving.

You knew that the baby was craving something, but didn’t know what. So, you decided that you were going to walk to the store and let the baby decide while walking through the aisles.

You rummaged through your clothes before going through Seungcheol’s side of the closet. As the pregnancy goes on, you’ve found yourself wearing more of Seungcheol’s clothes since they seemed to fit you better and were comfier than the maternity clothes that you never wore.

"What are you doing?"

You turned around in surprise to see Seungcheol standing, looking quite comfy in his pajama pants and a random old shirt. Being the one for dramatics (which you probably got from your husband), you put your hand on top of where your heart was. "You scared me! I think I almost gave birth then," you said.

He rolled his eyes and then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

"Oh, I was gonna go to the convenience store. The baby wants to eat something," you told him.

"Can't the baby wait for the morning?"

"The baby wants to eat, now."

"Then why don't you order something?"

"The baby doesn't know what to eat," you sheepishly said.

He looked at you for a moment, before reaching behind you to grab a hoodie. "Fine, let's go," he said, turning to leave yours and his' bedroom.

"I'm fine on my own," you insisted.

"You're pregnant and it's two in the morning. I'm coming with you," Seungcheol said, before yawning.

"Cheol, you're barely awake enough to be coming with me. You need your sleep," you gently said, but he was stubborn.

"I'm suddenly hungry too, so I'll just come with you to buy some food," he said.

Once you and Seungcheol entered the convenience store, you were greeted by the quietness of the place and the single employee that was stood behind the cash register.

You looked around the aisles while your husband followed not too far away from you. "Choose what you want, I'll be paying," he instructed and you didn't bother to argue, considering he always insisted on paying.

Wandering around, you grabbed your favorite snacks, a couple ramen cups, and a few of Seungcheol's favorite foods. Realizing that you should've gotten a basket, you looked at Seungcheol, who seemed to be amused with your current predicament of full hands.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny!" you whined, but he only seemed to amuse further with your comment.

Wordlessly, he left the aisle to grab a basket. When he returned with the basket, you dumped everything in it, and he carried it while you walked around the aisles one last time.

After making sure you didn't want anything else, Seungcheol went to the register, with you waddling behind him.

"Was it worth it to ruin our sleeping schedules for this?" Seungcheol teased, and you nodded with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

He shook his head but opened his mouth and you put a chopstick with ramen noodles on it in his mouth. "Not bad," he said and you beamed at his compliment.

"Is the baby satisfied with the food?"

"Yep, and the baby is finally tired enough to sleep," you said.

Waddling to your bedroom, with Seungcheol not too far from you, you settled into your bed, and closed your eyes.

"Sweetie?"

"Yes, Cheol?"

"I can't sleep now,"

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rosemaryshelluverse · 3 months

Note

Alastor, Husk, and Angel with an S/O who can’t get out of bed/do certain basic functions because of depression/PTSD?

𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃, 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔.

|| synopsis : They love you so much you silly ||

|| word count : 856 ||

[ CW: fluff :P, cursing obvi, thank you for the req anon i luv u <333 ]

[ NOT!!! PROOFREAD !!!]

Ａｌａｓｔｏｒ

✯ As of late, Alastor had been noticing the lack of your presence more throughout his days. ✯ He wasn't one to constantly check on you, but he had begun to show signs of worry. ✯ He had asked Charlie to check on you for him, but she just knocked and when she didn't hear and answer, decided not to bother you because she was polite. ✯ However, after almost two weeks with no signs of you, he let himself into your room.

"My dearest fawn! However are you doing this ever so lovely morning?" His voice was far too loud and far too energetic for you, causing a grumble to come from under your covers. He went over to a nearby window and opened the curtains with that ever charming grin of his. "Come now my dear! Surely you must be getting tired of doing absolutely nothing!" He chirps, his voice still covered by that layer of static as he stood by your bed now. "Not now, Alastor.." You'd grumble, not even bothering to turn over and look at him. When you heard nothing but silence, you figured he'd left and tried to resume your activities of nothing at all. It shouldn't have been hard, but your covers suddenly being pulled off of you, and you being pulled up to your feet. "Oh dear! You look, absolutely terrible! Lets fix you up!" Alastor would say, almost declaring it to the entirety of hell. With a snap of his fingers he would change your clothes, fix your hair and make you smell.. much much better. "See? Isn't that much better?" He would hum and pat your head almost condescendingly.

✯ Needless to say, he wouldn't be the best at comforting or caring, but he would at least make you look better before returning to the public eye with him.

Ｈｕｓｋｅｒ

✯ It would only take a day for him to notice your absence, though he could only check on you after his shift for the hotel.

✯ He would worry all day about you, and it was obvious in his work, spilling over shot glasses and sloppily cleaning his glasses.

✯ He already knew about your past struggles with your self upkeep, seeing as he did, practically the same thing.

✯ He would show up to your home, knocking on your door and waiting a few seconds. After he got no answer he'd make his way inside.

He'd call your name once or twice, the bags in his hands rustling a bit as he began to search for you. A slight pang started in his heart as he began to fear for the worst. He eventually got to your bedroom, knocking slightly before entering. "Doll-face? You in here?" He said, his voice low. His eyes landed on the shape of your body under the covers, his worries soften. "Darlin', you doing alright?" He'd ask, setting the bags down by your door and making his way to your bed, sitting on the edge. You could only give a mumble of an answer, but he knew well enough to tell how you were feeling. He would hoist you up and hold you against his chest, not minding the state you were in. His paw ran through your hair, giving a deep sigh. "I'm here, y'know. You aren't alone in this."

✯ He'd get in in full, wanting to be there for you as much as he possibly could. He didn't want to see anything bad happen to you.

ＡｎｇｅｌＤｕｓｔ

✯ Angel would take no time to notice your disappearance. He knew that just by associating with him, you were at risk of getting hurt by Val.

✯ When he'd go to, 'work', his performance would lack, due to his worrying if you were somewhere in the same building, going through what he was.

✯ He'd learn a lesson or two from Valentino for this, but he considered it nothing to the guilt in his heart if he had truly gotten you into the same rut he was in.

✯ However, when he'd visit your room, and actually find you there in your bed, he would rush to your side, thinking you had either overdosed or been hurt all this time.

✯ When he found you just lying in bed, not really paying attention to the world around you, but still breathing, he would be so relieved.

"Oh my fuck, babes, you scared the tits offa me!" He would gasp, putting his second hands on his hips, crossing the other two underneath his chest fluff. When you could only mumble a tired little, 'sorry', out, he dropped his arms down to his side and kneels on your floor, making sure you could see him. His ungloved set of hands came up and cupped your face, rubbing the soft skin of your cheek before he offered a smile. "Rough week, toots? Wanna tell me about it?"

✯ After the long, peaceful talk you two had, he lifted you up out of your bed and carried you off to the bathroom, vowing to get you back to squeaky clean!

[ haiiii!! hope this is what you asked for, and i hope you like it!!!! ]

|| note: 🇮🇫 🇾🇴🇺 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇲🇾 🇨🇴🇳🇹🇪🇳🇹, 🇧🇪 🇸🇺🇷🇪 🇹🇴 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇷🇪🇧🇱🇴🇬!! <3 ||

#hazbin hotel #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #husker x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #angel dust x reader #husker #husk #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust hazbin hotel #rosemaryfollows

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idyllic-ghost · 2 months

Text

title: The Other Woman (REWORKED) pairing: CEO!Mingyu x fem!reader genre: romance, found family, angst, fluff, smut warnings: mentions of not being able to have children, mentions of death (mingyu is widowed), smut (MDNI), oral (f and m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk concerning being better in bed than someone else, mentions of being sick (mingyu gets a cold), slight miscommunication angst synopsis: You’re married to Wonwoo, but his father desperately wants him to have a child - which you cannot have. He gives into his parents wishes and meets the other woman, whom he eventually agrees to marry as well. You’re left heartbroken for a few years, seeing the man you love build a family that you had always wanted, but happiness is on the horizon as you meet someone new. wordcount: 31k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag

a/n: the other woman is probably my most popular fic series, but i've always hated it. i felt like it was rushed, and not well thought out - so i've remade it (same plot, just a few minor changes)! thank you so much for 3k followers! consider this my thanks for sticking around <3

thank you @wongyuseokie for beta reading this!

join my taglist - masterlists read the original mini-series: part one, part two, part three

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

PART ONE.

The sun managed to peek into the bedroom through the blinds, stirring you awake. As you moved around slightly, trying to stretch the sleep out of the limbs, you felt the man beside you grip onto your waist. “Stay,” Wonwoo murmured in his raspy morning voice.

You turn to Wonwoo, putting your hands in his hair, and look down at him. His head was by your chest, resting his forehead against your bare skin. He got home late last night, staying at work until the sun was far down behind the horizon. You had dressed up for him last evening, wearing a new slip dress that he had gotten for you, but you managed to fall asleep before he got home. Mornings like these were unusual and always welcomed.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you said. “I took the day off too.”

“Lucky me.” He looked up at you with a grin. “I feel bad for the kids, though… they don’t get to see their favorite teacher.”

“I’m not their favorite,” you correct him. “And they’ll be fine if I’m gone for just one day… it’s worth it for this.”

Wonwoo leaned up to your face and placed a kiss on your lips, then mumbled something about you being perfect. You watched him sit up and reach for his glasses, enjoying the view of his naked form. You had lucked out - your husband was the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He turned to you again, giving you a soft smile.

“You look beautiful,” he said and reached over to touch your silky nightdress. “Is it the one I got for you?”

“Of course,” you murmured. “I put it on for you last night, but you got home later than usual.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sighed. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay… make it up for me?” With a big grin, he got on top of you and gave you another kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his lips traveled down your jaw to your neck. It’s been a while since you got to have this kind of morning, and it was just what you needed.

After you got out of the shower, you patted yourself dry with a towel before you changed into one of Wonwoo’s shirts. Wonwoo, who was already one step ahead of you, was making coffee in the kitchen. You had done this hundreds of times before; Wonwoo handed you a cup of coffee which you accepted and watched as he took out a few leftover side dishes from the fridge.

“Have you heard from your father yet?” you asked.

“Last night…” Wonwoo sighed. “We’ll meet him at the restaurant.”

“And you don’t know what he wants?”

“Not really.” He walks over to you after putting the side dishes on the counter. “Let’s not think about it- we took a day off so that we could spend a calm day before having to meet with him.”

“I know I just…” You took a deep breath. “I know how he feels about me. It feels weird that he asked to see us both.”

“Hey, don’t do that.” Wonwoo put his hands on your upper arms. “I don’t care what he says. You’re my wife. You come first.”

Despite his kind words, you can’t help the feeling of anxiety growing in your chest. Later that day, after hours of cuddling up on the couch and doing nothing together, you were getting ready for dinner. You had dolled yourself up - your makeup and hair were done, but your dress was still lying on the bed. Wonwoo always liked it when you walked around in his clothes, and you enjoyed his eyes on you.

“Do you think he’s just doing it as a formality? It is our anniversary soon…” you thought out loud. “It’s not like him, but maybe,” he hummed.

“Could you help me with my tie, honey?” He never actually needed help with his tie, but he knew it put your mind off of things if you did something with your hands. You walked up to him and took hold of the two ends of his tie.

“You look pretty,” Wonwoo said. “I’m not even dressed up yet,” you huffed. “Still pretty.”

You tried and failed to stop yourself from smiling. Wonwoo always knew how to make you feel better, even if it was just temporary. As soon as you had finished his tie, you went to put on your dress. As you pulled the straps over your shoulder, Wonwoo came up behind you to pull up the zipper. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder and slowly pulled the zipper up, and the feeling of his fingers against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

“Let’s get this dinner over with,” he muttered in your ear, “I already want to have you for myself.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ The restaurant was scarce of customers, but it still felt like you were taking up too much space. Wonwoo sat next to you at the table. His father was late, but when he finally approached the table, Wonwoo grabbed your hand and squeezed it. As you ate, the atmosphere was thick. Except for the usual small talk, none of you said much. While you were waiting for the second course, the topic of children was brought up by Wonwoo’s father.

“Father…” your husband sighed. “I’m allowed to ask about the company’s heir, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are, sir.” You put a hand on Wonwoo’s knee. “We’ve been talking about adoption, right?” Before Wonwoo could answer you, his father interrupted him.

“Adoption?” He scoffed. “Then it’s not your real child, though, is it?”

“We’ve talked about this,” Wonwoo said. “The doctor said-”

“That she can’t have children, I know.” His father interrupted him again. “I just think there are other ways.” You looked at Wonwoo with a big clump in your throat, but he refused to meet your gaze.

“What do you mean? Surrogacy?” Wonwoo asked. “No, I just mean that… if this relationship with Y/N isn’t working out, then maybe you should find someone else- a mistress.” Wonwoo’s father spoke as if you weren’t in the room with them.

“Dad, I’m not cheating on my wife-”

“Don’t call it a mistress then.” He shrugged. “Call it a new wife. You can always remarry.”

“Father-”

“You need an heir.”

“I’ve heard enough.” You stood up. “If you’re going to talk like I’m not even here, then I don’t want to be here. You’ll just find any reason to hate me, won’t you? We’re going through with surrogacy if we’re going to have children. I don’t care what you think about it.”

As you stormed out, you noticed that Wonwoo didn’t immediately follow after you. His absence worried you, but you still went through with getting your coat checked out and walking out of the restaurant to hail a cab. Finally, Wonwoo came out after you and grabbed your hand.

“Y/N-” “Why didn’t you defend me in there?” you questioned him. “You just let him degrade me like that in front of you!”

“Let’s just talk about this, he-”

“You know how hard I’ve been trying.” Tears were welling up in your eyes. “I want to have a family with you, Wonwoo, you know that. It’s hard for me, and hearing him say that hurts. His ‘suggestion’ is off the table if you’re even thinking about staying married to me. It’s so fucking obvious he just wants you to leave me, he won’t even accept surrogacy- if you try to reason with him, I don’t know you anymore.” A cab stopped in front of you, and you opened up the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m staying at my mother’s place. I need to be alone,” you said. “But we need to talk about this-” He reached for you, and you pulled back.

“Don’t touch me!” You yelled and got in the cab.

When you got to your mother’s apartment, she was waiting for you with open arms. You had told her what had happened through text while you were in the cab. She was just about ready to go to the restaurant and curse out Wonwoo’s father herself.

“What a heartless man!” she exclaimed as she held you in her arms.

“It’s alright, Mom.” You sighed. “I’m going to go back home tomorrow and talk about it with Wonwoo.”

“You know he’s to blame here, too, right?”

“Mom… Wonwoo didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.” She pulled back from the hug. “He should’ve stood up for you, honey.”

“Can we not talk about this, please?”

“Alright, just come inside.” You walked into her apartment and slept on her couch for the night.

The text you wake up to the next morning isn’t what you wanted. It was a short “We need to talk” text from Wonwoo. You answered by saying that you’d be home when he was home from work, and all you received back was “good”. Good. That’s all he had to say after what his father had said to you last night. Nevertheless, you went back home and waited for your husband.

“My father introduced me to someone else,” were words you never expected to hear from Wonwoo’s mouth. You were already sobbing, sitting on the couch in your living room. He was cold, not rubbing your back or bringing you in for a hug. You’ve never wanted his comfort more than right now.

“Listen, Y/N,” he said. “I’ll marry her- she’ll have my children-” Your loud sob interrupted him, and he finally touched you for the first time since last night. His hand on your back left a burning mark. “I’ll come back to you.”

“What?” You looked at him, your vision blurry from tears.

“After I get an heir, which is the only thing that my father wants, I’ll come back to you,” he explained.

“Wonwoo, that’s insane-”

“Don’t you understand? After I get an heir, my father will be out of our lives- it’s all he wants from me.”

He took your hands in his, holding them gently and bringing them up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you had trouble understanding what he was truly thinking. How was this easier than just cutting off his dad? You assumed he had talked with him about it, but you were left in the dark.

“And you think this will work?”

“Yes- I believe in us.”

“Fine… I trust you.”

Once the divorce was finalized, and Wonwoo had moved out, you realized just how big your apartment was. He had left you the place to not burden you with the troubles of moving. The woman Wonwoo married, Gyeong Hui, was one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. She was gracious and poised, and she was everything that Wonwoo’s father expected from his son’s wife. For the first few months, you keep close contact with your ex-husband. But as time passes, your relationship fades. His final call to you was a normal Thursday afternoon. There was no warning, and it somehow made it worse.

“Gyeong Hui is pregnant…” Wonwoo said. “I don’t think I can… I just realized how fragile the situation is- I can’t leave the mother of my child. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

All you could manage to say was, “It’s okay”, and even then, your voice was breaking. You hang up before he can say anything else and pack up a few things to go live with your mother. Social media was a hellhole, seeing them move to the suburbs together- Wonwoo always said he hated the suburbs. Your dream together was to have a small family in the apartment that you had together… all of it, your wishes and your dreams, was gone. Your mom tried her best to cheer you up. She offered to have girls’ night, to go get your nails done, or spend the evening drinking wine and watching rom-coms. None of it sounded appealing to you, and you instead opted to stay in bed most of the time. You only went up to eat or use the bathroom, sometimes going for a walk or trying to get some other form of movement in. She gave up eventually, or so you thought. A year and a half had passed since you broke it off when your mom approached you at the breakfast table.

“Here, look at this,” she shoved her phone in front of your face.

“A cabin?”

“Cottage,” she corrected you. “It’s your aunt’s, and it’s absolutely dreamlike. It’s in the middle of nowhere, in a beautiful forest, and close to a lake.”

“It does look beautiful.” You looked through the photos.

“I’ve been asking her to borrow it forever,” she explained. “And she finally said it’ll be empty for a couple of weeks.”

“Oh? Are you gonna go?” You gave her back her phone. “I was thinking it’d be nice for you to get out into nature… you can borrow my car and go out there right now. Get off your phone and get to spend some time with yourself.”

“Mom-”

“And if you don’t want to be alone, she has a lot of neighbors!”

“Mom-”

“I just think it’s perfect for you, darling,” she said. “It’ll be good, I promise.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ You decide to take your mom’s advice. The drive there was beautiful, but when you arrived you realized it wouldn’t be all that therapeutic - for you, it was mostly bug bites and muddy shoes. The houses were beautiful, especially your aunt’s cottage. The red brick contrasted nicely with the dark roof - and there was ivy growing on the side of the building. No house looked the same. It was your favorite thing about this place. Your neighbor had a cute yellow house, and the one next to that one was blue. It continued for a few more cottages, and they all looked adorable. The outside was gorgeous, but the inside was like nothing you had ever seen before. It felt like walking into a Ghibli movie. The wooden floors creaked under your feet, the walls had a beautiful green wallpaper with flowers, and everything was decorated in a cohesive maximalist style. It wasn’t as big as the other houses, but still had two levels - the second floor only being a bedroom and bathroom - and it was more than enough for you. So, you spent your time indoors, and you realized that you did want to be alone… but, of course, your neighbors couldn’t know that. Most of them were retired, but a few of them were only a little older than you. They told you that they just wanted to come check on who the new person could be. There couldn’t be a lot happening there if you were the biggest piece of gossip to talk about. As more neighbors decided to stop by, you grew more tired of their visits - even if they were short-lived. So when there was another knock at your door, you didn’t open it with a smile.

“Hello?”

In front of you stood a gorgeous, tall man. Black short hair, golden tan skin, and a body that was practically built by the gods. He was wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt with paint splatter on it. Not wanting to seem like a creep, you looked up at his face again. However, when meeting his eyes, you were filled with a sense of calm. They were kind and well-meaning, which made your sour welcome all the more embarrassing.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kim Mingyu.” He took his hand off a plastic box and reached it out to you. His handshake was strong, but not in the way that men usually tried to display their dominance. You didn’t know if it was in your head, but it felt safe - protective. Maybe it was just the lack of men in your life at the moment, but you were tingling at his touch.

“I’m Jeo…. Y/L/N Y/N.” You took your hand back from his hold. “My aunt let me stay here for a bit.” Almost saying your ex’s last name, instead of your own, in front of this handsome stranger felt horrifying. But Mingyu didn’t seem to notice, or he pretended not to for your sake.

“Well, I’m your next-door neighbor- so if there’s anything you need, you can let me know.” Friendly and hot. This might have been the luckiest you’ve felt in over a year.

“Oh, is it your cottage?”

“No, no- it’s my parents’ place. I’m just fixing it up for them so that they can enjoy it during the summer months,” he explained and looked down at his box. “Oh, right. I got you a little welcome gift- I don’t know if you like muffins, but…”

He held it out to you, and you finally got a proper look at it. The bottom of it was read, but the top was see-through. Dark red muffins, about six of them, were lined up perfectly inside the box. Red velvet. You wondered if he had made them himself or if he had bought them from some expensive bakery.

“I love muffins,” you assured him and accepted the box. “Thank you, Mingyu.”

“No problem,” he said, “And, if you’re into barbecue, our other neighbor is having one later this evening.”

“Oh, I don’t know… I don’t really know them. I feel like I’d be intruding.”

“You can come over with me. I’ll keep you company all night if you don’t like them,” he joked.

“Well, that’s certainly a tempting offer…” You thought about your mom and how much she’d want you to try to move on. “Alright, when is it?”

“I’ll come by around six and pick you up,” he recommended.

“Sounds good,” you said. “See you then.” “Can’t wait.” He sent you a flirtatious smile before leaving.

You watched Mingyu leave, not so subtly checking him out, before closing the door. Walking into the kitchen, you opened up the box of muffins and were immediately hit with a velvety aroma. After putting the box on the kitchen island, you picked one of them up and tasted it. The muffin practically melted in your mouth. It was perfectly fluffy and not too sweet.

“Holy fuck.” You put your hand over your mouth. Was this man good at everything?

Not wanting to look like you’ve been in bed all day, despite definitely having done just that, you put on a blue linen dress and try to look a little put together. You don’t want to tarnish your aunt’s good name by being a messy niece. Mingyu knocked on your door at six o’clock sharp, and when you opened the door, you were met with a surprise. He had changed into white linen pants and a light blue dress shirt. You were matching.

“Hi again,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, um…” You looked back into the cottage and grabbed your bag. “Sure… should I bring something?”

“If you have something to bring.” You went into the kitchen and picked up a bottle of rosé you had brought with you. It was one of your favorite bottles. It had been chilled in the fridge, now at the perfect drinking temperature. When you walked back outside, you held up the bottle of wine for him to see. Mingyu whistled when he saw the label, and you handed it over to him to let him get a closer look.

“Nice stuff.” He held the bottle gently so that he didn’t heat it with his hands.

“You can thank-” Wonwoo. Wonwoo showed you this wine first. He said that it’d be just your taste. He wasn’t wrong, which was nice at the time, but now it made you want to scream.

“Who can I thank?” Mingyu’s question brought you out of your thoughts.

“The woman in the store,” you lied. “Let’s go.”

Your neighbor’s backyard was full of laughter. You could hear it from outside your cottage. Walking up to the blue house, you felt your heart start pounding. Mingyu opened the door for you, and you were met with a scenery that you swore you had dreamed of. Large families - grandparents, parents, children - were all gathered. They were drinking, eating, playing - and it made you want to vomit. You pressed the bottle of wine into Mingyu’s chest, and he quickly took hold of it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling that well… I think I need to go home.” You backed away from the house. “Tell the host my best wishes… and that I’m sorry." Mingyu probably tried to stop you, but you wouldn’t know since you quickly turned on your heel and briskly walked away. It wasn’t safe at all. Staying here wasn’t the paradise that your mom had made it out to be.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ You packed up your things the very next day and put them in your car. It was early in the morning, the sun had barely just started rising, and yet Mingyu was out for a run. He ran past your car as you were putting the second bag in.

“Hey there, neighbor.” Even his voice was hot. You looked over at him. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, which was sticking to his chest from sweat. A cap was placed on his head, but you could still see his face - shiny from sweat but pretty nonetheless. Could he just look bad for one moment? Just so that it could be easier for you to resist the urge to jump him…

“You run this early in the morning?” You asked.

“Only when I’m out here,” he said. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, I just… I don’t think nature’s for me.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“How would you know?” He asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been here two days, and you’ve only been indoors.” You were stumped. He was right, of course, but you desperately wanted him to be wrong. He approached you, still breathing hard. God, you wanted to climb him like a tree.

“Listen, I can see that you’ve got something going on,” he said, “And I promise you, this is the best place to be when you’re wound up. If this was meant to be therapeutic for you, then I think you need to try a little harder than what you have.”

If it weren’t for the fact that he made you weak in the knees, you would’ve just walked away from him. You stayed, and you listened… and he wasn’t wrong.

“So then, what do you suggest I do?” You secretly hoped he’d suggest that you go home with him, but life wasn’t a porno…

“Well, I don’t know your struggles.” He shrugged. “But I can show you around, make you appreciate nature.”

“... I’d like that.” “Good.” He grinned. “Do you want to meet up later? Maybe after lunch? I was thinking of going out to the lake if you want to tag along.”

“Sure.” You took out the bags from the car and carried them back inside. Mingyu’s presence beside you made you heat up. He picked up the last of the bags and helped you carry them to the door. You thanked him with a small smile, and he gave you a wink before jogging over to his cottage.

Later that day, you change into a swimsuit and put on an oversized shirt to cover up while you walk over to the lake. With a towel under your arm, you went to look for Mingyu. Footsteps quickly approached from behind you, and when you turned around, you were met with a wonderful sight. Your next-door neighbor was running towards you, wearing black swimming shorts and an open button-up with lazily rolled-up sleeves.

“Hey there, neighbor!” he said with a grin.

He reminded you of a puppy - happy and always eager. When he had jogged up to you, you noticed the silver chain around his neck. You hadn’t seen it before, but now your eyes were fixed on the delicate chain. Maybe it was because you didn’t know where else to look, or the juxtaposition of such a delicate thing on such a brawny man was appealing to you.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Mingyu joked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, I just…” You felt heat rise to your face. “It’s a nice chain.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t look like he believed you. “Ready to go for a swim?”

Mingyu took you to a small dock, where he left his towel and his shirt before he started wading through the water. You watched his back as he walked, his muscles moving under his skin hypnotizing you. When he looked back, he sent you a wink, making your heart skip a beat. You pulled off your shirt and started treading through the cold water yourself.

“How are you not freezing?” you asked.

“I am.” He laughed. “But if I started shivering, you wouldn’t come in!”

“Touché.” You smiled and approached him. The water was up to your hips now, but your legs were slowly getting used to the cold water. You heard him gasp and looked up to see him covering his agape mouth with his hands - as if he was pleasantly surprised.

“What is it?”

“You’re smiling,” he teased. “Are you enjoying nature yet?”

“It’s growing on me,” you admitted.

“Good,” he hummed. “Try closing your eyes.” You give him a strange look but still follow his instructions. After closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. The sound of a lonely bird echoed through the forest. The rippling water murmured secrets in a language you couldn’t understand, but you listened intently anyway. Your hands were hanging by your sides, the water weaving between your fingers. The stream wasn’t strong enough to move you, but you still felt it. After another deep breath, you opened your eyes again to see Mingyu proudly looking back at you.

“It’s nice, right?”

“Very nice,” you said.

“Come on, let’s go.” He started moving up the stream. “I want to show you something.” It didn’t take long to swim to the place Mingyu wanted to show you. A waterfall, not very tall but remarkable nevertheless, was flowing in front of you. Right by the top of the waterfall hung a swing on a tough-looking branch. It looked like something out of a paradise resort.

“I built that swing when I was a teenager,” he said. “And if we’re lucky, it’s not too old to use.”

“Wait, how old are you?”

“Just turned twenty-eight,” he said. “Don’t I look like it?”

“I thought you’d be younger- we’re the same age.” You looked back at the swing. “So, how young of a teenager are we talking?”

“I was seventeen.” He sighed. “It’ll hold… probably.” Mingyu helped you up the rocks, and the two of you got to the top of the waterfall rather quickly. You sat down next to each other, your legs dangling off the edge of the waterfall. Sticking your foot into the running water, you watched it bend around your body. After resting for a bit, Mingyu stood back up.

“Want to try the swing?” he asked.

“Only if you try it first.” You chuckled as you watched the man take a shaky breath. Mingyu took hold of the old rope. When he pulled on it, the old tree let out a croak - as if it was stretching after a long nap. With furrowed brows, Mingyu carefully climbed onto the swing - and it held his weight! You laughed and clapped his hands as Mingyu let out a victorious shout. The creaking continued as Mingyu began swinging, eventually flinging himself off into the pool of water beside the bottom of the waterfall. His head went underwater, and you held your breath until he popped back up to the surface.

“It’s safe!” He shouted, and you wolf-whistled as he got up to the more shallow part of the lake. “Your turn!”

“Oh no, I’m not doing that!” “You said you would!” Mingyu pouted.

“It’s part of your nature therapy, Y/N!” You loved it when he said your name… Mingyu would be the death of you. After finally managing to get onto the swing, with Mingyu cheering you on from the side of the lake, you began swinging. You let go of the ropes and jumped, shutting your eyes tight. Water encapsulated you before you got back up to the surface. Mingyu cheered and clapped for you, to which you responded with a shy smile.

“Fun, right?”

“Maybe a little…” you admitted as you walked back up to the shallow part of the lake.

You and Mingyu swam back to the dock where you left your things, and the two of you sat down on it. Your feet were still in the water, the stream tickling the lower half of your calves. When you had dried off and the weather got a little colder, you put your shirt from before back on.

“I had a really good time today,” you said.

“You don’t feel like going home anymore?”

“Not as much.” You looked over at Mingyu, who was already looking at you. “Thank you. I needed this.”

“Let me take you out tomorrow, too, then,” he said.

“Sure.” You nodded. “But I don’t know how you’re going to top this.”

“We can go on a morning hike,” he suggested.

“Mingyu-” You chuckled. “I’m not a morning person- I don’t think it’d be better than this.”

“You say that now,” he said. “But just wait until we’re standing up on the hill watching the sunrise.”

“Sunrise? How early do I have to get up?”

“I’ll pick you up at five.”

Despite not wanting to wake up so early, you did it anyway. After a day of swimming, you fell asleep early and woke up fifteen minutes before Mingyu was to pick you up. You dragged yourself out of bed, putting on your most comfortable workout gear. For whatever reason, you trusted Mingyu enough to let him take you out on this horrible morning walk. Trying to stretch the sleep out of your body, you moved around your living room in front of the big windows. When you got up from stretching out your hamstrings, you heard a knock coming from one of the windows. You looked over with big eyes, meeting the gaze of a smiling Mingyu. He was wearing the same jogging gear he had yesterday and a backpack slung over one of his shoulders. He waved to you, and you hurried over to the door. With a flushed face, you opened the door and welcomed Mingyu inside while you put on your shoes.

“Good morning.” Mingyu stayed on your porch, giving you space.

“Morning.” You stood back up and gave him a quizzical look. “Were you watching me stretch?”

“Just for a second, I didn’t want to scare you mid-stretch,” he defended himself hurriedly. “I’m not a creep, I swear.”

You stepped outside and patted his slumped shoulders. He reminded you of a puppy again, the way he was looking at you with big eyes and a slight pout. You were beginning to enjoy teasing him. “

I know,” you said. “Ready to go?”

“Of course.”

The two of you watched the forest wake up as you walked along the path Mingyu had picked for you. It was an uphill walk, which wasn’t what you needed this early in the morning. But Mingyu promised you that it would be rewarding, so you continued walking. The two of you were mostly silent, other than when one of you pointed out something you had seen. However, the silence was welcomed. It was, as Mingyu had said, very therapeutic. Despite feeling like it took forever, you were up on the hill before you knew it. Mingyu pointed out a small bench by the edge of a cliff, and the two of you sat down. He took out the backpack and gave you a neatly wrapped sandwich, along with a thermos of coffee. As the two of you ate breakfast, the sky started turning pink, and the sun started rising from behind the horizon.

“Wow,” you hummed.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Mingyu nudged you with his elbow.

“It’s amazing…”

The both of you sat in silence for a bit more, but something started itching to come out from the back of your throat. Mingyu was playing with the paper wrapping from his now-eaten sandwich.

“So… why did you come out here in the first place?” Mingyu asked.

“It’s a long story…” You said, thinking he would put it to rest - even though a part of you wanted to tell someone about it.

“You can tell me, you know?” he said. “I won’t judge.”

So you did. You told him about Wonwoo, how suddenly the relationship had ended, and why it had turned out the way he did. You told him about Gyeong Hui and how you couldn’t even bring yourself to hate her despite what had happened. After that, you sat in silence. You thought he wouldn’t want to talk to you after this, but instead, he put a comforting arm around your shoulder.

“You’re strong.” His words made you scoff. “I’m serious. That’s more than enough for any other person just to give up, but you’re here. You’re trying.”

“Just because you made me.”

“I can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do,” he said. “You could’ve left.” His words linger in the air. You could have left, why didn’t you? Was it just because you thought your neighbor was hot, or did his words reach you? Did it even matter? You were here now, feeling better than you had since the incident. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leaning your head in the palms of your hands. Mingyu took his arm off you and let you be. You missed the warmth of his arm but appreciated the space he gave you.

“Well, thanks for bringing me out here,” you said.

“You’re helping me too. Now I have a reason to get out more.” He leaned back.

There was more to his story. You could tell by the tone of his voice, but you decided not to pry. If he wanted to tell you, he would. You looked out over the forest again. The sun had risen far above the trees now. When you leaned back on the bench, you noticed that Mingyu’s arm was leaning on the back of the bench. In a moment of hope and rashness, you leaned your head on his shoulder. You glanced up at Mingyu, seeing him smile before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever watched the sunrise like this before,” you said.

“Really?”

“I’m not a morning person,” you reminded him. Mingyu chuckled, his chest rumbling as he did. You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath. This time it didn’t just smell like fresh air and dewy grass. You could smell his cologne as well. It was faint, but you could sense the woody smell of men’s perfume. You could probably fall asleep right there in his arms.

“We still have to walk back.” Mingyu made you open your eyes again. “Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“It's not my fault that you’re comfortable…” You sighed. Mingyu moved around, forcing you to get up despite your many protests. He helped you up, and the two of you began making your way home.

You kept seeing Mingyu for the first week of your stay, and towards the end of it, he offered to make you dinner. The two of you spent your time outdoors, hiking or going to the lake, so spending the evening making dinner in your small kitchen was more intimate than you were used to. However, you gladly accepted his offer - you hadn’t exactly been eating like royalty during your stay here. Cooking took effort, which you didn’t have the energy for. Seeing as the muffins Mingyu had given you the first time you met were delicious, it wouldn’t surprise you if his cooking was delicious as well. Mingyu came over with a bag of groceries that he immediately put in the kitchen. You were placed on watch duty - which was Mingyu’s way of saying, “Sit on the counter and don’t touch anything while I work,” and you couldn’t complain. You watched as he expertly cut up the vegetables and the meat, enjoying the view of his hands getting to work. His t-shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing off his biceps as he reached for plates and glasses. From time to time, he’d look over at you to see if you were watching - smiling when he caught you ogling at him. He took pride in his good looks, as he should.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” You said. “I mean this- and the muffins?”

“Oh, I didn’t bake those-” He chuckled. “I can’t bake, that’s for sure… I bought them from this little café that’s not too far from here. I’ll take you some time.”

“Sounds good.” You smiled at the implication that he wanted to keep seeing you, even though he had asked you to do things with him countless times before.

“Still, you’re still a natural talent at most things.”

“I can’t paint either,” he argued. “Paint?”

“I’m supposed to paint the living room in the cottage- my parents wanted it to be a lighter color,” he explained. “I’ve been putting it off for so long, but now all the furniture I’ve put away has started to bug me.”

“Tell you what…” You hopped off the counter you were sitting on and walked up next to him. “If this meal is as delicious as it smells, I’ll help you paint tomorrow. As a thank you for the meal.”

“Deal.” He grinned. “I’ll take it as a challenge.” He moved you aside so that he could get to the spices. His hands were only on your waist for a millisecond, but your skin was burning at his touch. While trying to contain your smile, you took your place on the counter once again.

The dinner was perfect, as expected. The food, the wine, the company… everything was to your liking. And when everything was over, you got to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Mingyu by the sink. He was washing the dishes, and you were drying them.

“I hate that this place doesn’t have a dishwasher,” you groaned.

“Doing dishes can be nice…” Mingyu said. “Given that you’re in good company.” Mingyu handed you a plate, and your fingers brushed against each other. Every time he touched you it sent sparks flying in your chest. You took the plate and started drying it. There were no other dishes in the sink, and Mingyu put his hands on it while he was waiting for you to finish.

“Well, I’m glad I can be good company,” you replied.

“You’ve been good company this entire week,” Mingyu admitted. “Although you have distracted me from what I was supposed to be doing.”

“I think that’s fair,” you argued. “You’re the one who convinced me to say, after all.” You put away the last plate and dried off your hands, giving Mingyu a fresh towel for his own hands.

Shamelessly, you stared at his hands while he dried them off with the towel. When you looked back up at his eyes, you knew that he had caught you. You didn’t mind - maybe it was the amount of wine you had consumed, or you had grown comfortable around your neighbor - and took the towel off his hands when he didn’t need it anymore, putting it on the counter beside you.

“I guess you’re right.” Mingyu watched you carefully as you walked past him to wipe off the other side of the counter. “I’m glad I did.”

“I’m glad you did too.” Mingyu encaged you against the counter, putting his hands on the wood on either side of you. His chest was pressed up against your back. His head leaned down by your ear - you could feel his breath fanning against you. You turned around, locking eyes with him again. The air was thick, and you needed to do something to stop the pounding in your chest. Your hands moved on their own when they moved across his chest, traveling up his neck and settling in his short hair. Mingyu glanced down at your lips and leaned in until your noses were touching.

“Mingyu…” you breathed out. “Kiss me.” At your command, he finally put his lips on yours. They were soft but slightly chapped, and they moved in harmony with yours. His hands went from the counter to your hips and to your hips to hoist you up. The kiss broke for a moment so that Mingyu could put you on the counter. Standing between your legs, Mingyu connected his lips with yours again. You cupped his face in your hands, trying to pull him impossibly close as the kiss got heated. The two of you only stopped to catch your breath, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” Mingyu asked breathlessly.

“I hope not…” You connected your lips again. Mingyu took his time with you, lips moving slowly and passionately. You hadn’t felt like this in what felt like forever. To be intimate with someone again… it made you feel alive. Despite your head spinning, you couldn’t help but think about Wonwoo. You pulled away, Mingyu trying to chase after your lips before noticing something was wrong.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered as soon as you saw his worried eyes.

“No, no- it’s okay, Y/N,” he assured you. “It was too fast, I understand.”

“It’s just been so long-”

“I get it, sweetheart. Trust me.” The nickname, even in this situation, made your heart skip a beat. You caressed his cheek, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. He sent you a warm smile, unlike the charming and flirtatious ones you had seen before.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“I don’t want to kiss someone who doesn’t want to be kissed,” he said. “There’s always next time, hm?”

“Next time,” you promised. Mingyu helped you off the counter, and you walked him to the front door. As he put on his shoes, you felt your chest grow empty. You knew that you didn’t want to go further right now, not when your mind was racing, but you wanted him so badly. Mingyu stood back up and took your hand.

“Don’t feel bad, okay?” He squeezed your hand. “I liked it while it lasted.” You looked down at your shoes, unable to keep his gaze.

“Are you still helping me paint tomorrow?” he asked and squeezed your hand again.

“Of course.” You looked back up at him for a second to give him a secure smile. “Goodnight, Mingyu.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He let go of your hand and opened the door.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, you crumbled to the floor. There was a part of you that believed that you had ruined this now. A black hole was growing in your chest. You liked Mingyu, but you still couldn’t get the image of Wonwoo out of your brain. Maybe this was your life now, finding new people but being cock-blocked by someone who wasn’t even in the room… someone who didn’t care about you anymore. If he had been able to move on, why couldn’t you? It had been a year since you took off your wedding ring and signed the divorce papers. It had been half a year since Wonwoo last called. You had deleted his contact from your phone, afraid that you would give in and call him on a whim. You couldn’t sink so low. There was nothing more to do than accept that you had been the other woman. If alternate dimensions existed, you wished that at least one of them let you stay with Wonwoo - or that the plan could’ve gone through. you wished that you never got to know that Gyeong Hui was a kind and gentle woman. You wished that she would’ve been a bitch… but she wasn’t. You had no reason to hate her - she didn’t drag your husband away from you. She was just a pawn in a game. You got up from the floor and made your way to your bedroom.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ The next day, you went over to Mingyu’s cottage in clothes that you weren’t afraid to get paint on. You couldn’t let what happened yesterday ruin what you had going on with Mingyu. So, despite your legs wanting to run the other way, you walked in through the open door to the cottage.

“Hello?” You called from the hallway.

“In here!” Mingyu shouted, and you followed his voice.

The inside of the house was similar to your aunt’s, although it was more classically decorated. When you found Mingyu, he was standing in the middle of a large room with no furniture. The furniture stood outside the room, cramped in a large portion of the corner of another room. The otherwise big brawny man looked tiny in the empty room. Mingyu had already started painting, as evident by the paint stains on his clothes.

“The paint is supposed to go on the walls, you know.” You leaned against the doorframe.

“Very funny…” He turned around to face you to show you a big splotch of paint on his face, trying to hide his smile by biting his lower lip. “I got paint on my face when opening the can… the rest is just brush accidents…”

You approached him and cooed as he pouted, cupping his cheeks in your palms. With your thumb, you tried to wipe off some of the paint on his face, but it was already dry.

“Help?” he murmured.

“Hand me a paint roller, Picasso,” you joked, and Mingyu grimaced.

The work got done quicker than expected. It was hard, and the room was warm despite the many open windows and doors, and it had you sweating buckets. The fact that you kept thinking about last night - his lips on yours - didn’t help. You desperately needed an ice bath.

“Do you think we’re done?” You asked as the two of you looked around the freshly painted room.

“I think so. Now we just have to clean up,” Mingyu said. He was looking at the many newspapers on the floor, protecting them from white paint, but you were still only staring at him. Any sentimental thought you had the day before had flown through the window. You were too hot, too tired, and too turned on to think about anything other than Mingyu. His shirt was sticking to his toned chest, leaving little to the imagination - not that you hadn’t already seen him half-naked.

“Y/N, are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?” he asked out of innocent concern.

“I’m just tired,” you lied.

“Are you sure? You look flushed.” He approached you, and you had to stop yourself from backing up against the wet wall. Mingyu managed to walk up right next to you and put the back of his hand against your forehead. It was colder than your skin, and you leaned into his touch. Your eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips. It wasn’t the heat- it was Mingyu making you melt. Much to your dismay, he took his hand away from your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay there, sweetheart?” he asked with a small smile.

“You know what… I was going to act like nothing happened yesterday, but I need us to resume whatever we were doing back then right now.” You looked him dead in the eye.

“But I don’t want to push you-”

“You’re not pushing me…” You took a deep breath. “Please?”

You didn’t have to say another word before his lips were on yours again. The messy room was left to its own devices as Mingyu led you through the house - only breaking from the kiss to make sure he wasn’t running into anything. Clothes were flying off of you and onto any nearby surface. He picked you up, your legs swinging around his waist, and carried you upstairs to his bed. Falling against the plush bed, you let out a happy shout before Mingyu crawled towards you again. When your lips connected again, your head was buzzing. You were both only in your underwear by now, your sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other. Mingyu pulled away from you with a soft groan, his eyes still shut as he began grinding against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Mingyu nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving chaste kisses on the sensitive skin. When you finally broke out in laughter, Mingyu came back up to look at you. You covered your face with your hands to hide from him - suddenly feeling shy.

“Hey, pretty,” he said and tried to remove your hands. “I want to look at you… come on…”

“I haven’t… the last time I did this was with him,” you said, knowing that he would understand who you were talking about. “I know it’s silly, but it feels strange.”

“It’s not silly.” He chuckled and finally managed to remove your hands. “It’s normal, but I want you to forget all that and just focus on us.”

The light coming in from the window gave away that the sun had started to set - its golden glow coloring Mingyu’s skin with a beautiful shine. Your hand caressed his cheek, and he leaned into your touch.

“Just us,” you repeated. “... could you get a condom?”

Suddenly, Mingyu’s peaceful expression turned into an annoyed one. He scrunched up his face and let out a groan, his head leaning back into the crook of your neck.

“I don’t have condoms,” he mumbled. The entire situation made you laugh, and it only made Mingyu whine louder. If it weren’t for how hard you could feel that he was, you would’ve kept laughing - but instead, you cooed at him. Your fingers ran through his hair as he buried his face in your chest. While accidental pregnancy was unlikely for you, you didn’t want to have unprotected sex with a man that you had only met a week ago.

“It’s alright, we can…” You sighed. “We can do that next time and fix your issue another way this time.”

“So there’ll be a next time?” Mingyu raised his head to meet your gaze. Your face grew hot as your smile widened. His eyes were big and hopeful, and you let out a laugh in disbelief at how he could be so adorable.

“Maybe…” you hummed.

“And you don’t want to stop now?”

“Just the opposite, please.”

Mingyu pressed a sweet peck to your lips before he went back in to devour you. You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, using it to flip the two of you around. He let out a grunt when his back hit the bed. Your lips parted, only for you to kiss down his neck to his chest. Mingyu’s chest was heaving, but you could feel his breath hitch when your lips ghosted over his skin. You settled between his legs, playing with the hem of his underwear.

“Is this okay?” You asked.

“Please.” Mingyu’s voice was hoarse as he begged for you. Pulling down the band of his underwear, you watched in awe as his thick cock slapped onto his abdomen. It shouldn’t be surprising that he was as big as he was, considering his height, but it still left your jaw slack. After ripping off his underwear, you put your hand over his cock - gently stroking it before you wrapped your hand around it and put it in your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down his length, you tried to take more and more of him.

“Fuck…” He gasped and reached his hand up to your head. “... can I?”

You let out a delighted hum and moaned around him when he grabbed your hair to push you further down. Gagging around his cock made Mingyu get louder - his moans echoing around the room. Your nails clawed at his thighs as your eyes welled up with tears. Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw Mingyu throwing his head back with his eyes shut tight. His hips moved on their own, shallowly thrusting his cock up your throat. You put your hands on his hips, holding them down, and got your mouth off of him, gasping for air.

“Shit- are you okay?” he asked with heavy breaths. “Did I hurt you?”

Seeing him all fucked out, his pupils blown out of proportion, and his lips slightly parted made you clench around nothing. You kept stroking his cock, forcing more heavenly noises to come out from behind Mingyu’s lips.

“I’m okay, baby,” you said. “Are you getting close?”

“Yeah- fuck, yes,” he whined. “Don’t stop, baby-”

You replaced your hand with your mouth, keeping the same speed and rhythm as you had before. He warned you that he was about to cum, but you didn’t stop. You watched his hands grip the sheets of the bed, throwing his head back against the pillow again. With a guttural moan, Mingyu came down your throat. You took your mouth off him, letting him ride out his high with your hand around his cock.

“Thank you, sweetheart…” Mingyu’s hips stuttered before his body went completely limp. A big grin was painted on your face as you crawled up his body. Mingyu’s eyes were full of lust as he reached for you. His strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you locked by his side. You pressed a few kisses on his jaw, making him whine.

“You keep surprising me, Mingyu,” you murmured against his skin.

“Good surprises, right?”

“All good,” you assured him. Mingyu’s grip around you tightened, and he flipped the two of you around again. Laying under him again, you finally noticed the small silver chain around his neck again. It was dangling right in front of you, and you couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and pull on it. Pulling on the chain brought him down so that his forehead was leaning against yours again. He smiled, pressing a sweet peck to the tip of your nose. Your face crinkled at the feeling, making Mingyu giggle. He giggled.

“You’re a big softie, aren’t you?” You grinned.

“Only on special occasions,” he said. Copying your actions from before, Mingyu pressed kisses down your neck to your chest. As you arched your back, he helped you take off your bra.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Mingyu kissed the delicate skin before moving down to your panties. “Want me to repay the favor?”

“Please?” At your quiet plea, he ripped off your panties. A yelp escaped your lips as he lifted your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. His lips ghosted over the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine as he got closer to your core. As he laid his tongue flat against your cunt, you let out a loud moan that you had tried to bite back. You could feel him smile against you before he went into lap at your clit. Sinful noises bounced off the walls of Mingyu’s bedroom. Your hands were in his hair, pulling at it whenever he found a spot that made you see stars. Mingyu was the kind of person who was always up for a challenge - and when he had gotten the first taste of victory, he couldn’t get enough.

“Don’t stop!” You practically shouted, forgetting that you still had neighbors even if you were in the middle of nowhere. Mingyu’s grip on your thighs tightened, making sure that you couldn’t help his relentless attack on your pussy. His tongue was inside you now, his nose bumping against your clit. You were practically riding his face with the way you were grinding against him. And when you felt your orgasm approaching, your hips stuttered. Mingyu, hearing the sound of your voice changing, picked up on the fact that you were close. With a steady pace, he guided you through your orgasm, letting you rock against him for as long as you needed.

Your body was spent afterward. You were almost completely unable to move. Mingyu crawled up next to you, maneuvering both of you to lay comfortably under the covers. He was lying beside you, and you had your head on his chest - you could hear that his heartbeat was finally starting to calm down.

“So…” He trailed off. “Yeah.”

You breathed out. The two of you lay there in silence. Despite just having shared a very intimate moment, there wasn’t anything to say. You listened to his breathing, finding the rhythm calming enough to fall asleep to. Your eyes were closed, and you were almost about to drift away to sleep when Mingyu’s soft voice brought you back to reality.

“Do you need anything?” he muttered.

“… maybe I should go to the bathroom.” You nodded and sat up. “You… it was… nice.” You stared at each other for a while before breaking out into awkward laughter. Even though you had been so confident with him earlier, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it again now. Something had changed between you - it was neither bad nor good, just natural. You pulled the sheets up to cover your chest - suddenly feeling vulnerable, despite already having shown him everything.

“Do you want me to get you a shirt or something?” He asked, noticing your change in demeanor. You hummed in response. Mingyu got up and walked over to his closer, and you tried not to stare at his naked figure. When he found a shirt for you to wear and clothes for himself, he walked back over to the bed and handed it to you. You pulled the shirt over your head, his scent surrounding you. His laundry detergent smelled fancy, and there was the slightest hint of the cologne that you had sensed during your hike.

“Thanks.” You got up and went to his bathroom.

“Y/N,” he said before you could go inside. “Do you want to stay over for dinner?” You turned around to face him, again trying your hardest to look only at his eyes. His hair was a mess, thanks to you, and he looked genuinely happy - a gentle smile playing on his lips and eyes that conveyed the same emotion. How could you say no to him? Especially since you had already tried his cooking once, you wouldn’t give up that opportunity.

“… sure.” You nodded and went into the bathroom.

After that evening, you continued this relationship - sleeping with each other, making food for one another, and spending as much time together as possible. You felt safe in Mingyu’s arms. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a hand on your knee or cuddling while watching TV on the couch, you’d melt into it - trying to get as much out of it as possible. Slowly, you began recharging. It was as if you had been in hibernation this entire time, and spring had finally come to welcome you back to the world. Mingyu was your spring: warm, bright, and sweet. Between the two of you, something blossomed over the last week of your stay in the cottage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ It was the last day of your stay at your aunt's cottage. Your things were neatly packed up, except for one dress, the dress that you had worn to the barbecue that you hadn’t gotten to enjoy. To reclaim the ruined evening, you and Mingyu had decided to dress up the way you had that day and hold your barbecue in Mingyu’s backyard. When you approached his gate that evening, you could already hear people laughing and talking in the backyard. An invisible wall stopped you from going any further. You stood completely still and fidgeted with your dress. Despite it being different from the first time, it still felt the same. However, you had promised Mingyu to come - and all of his hard work would go to waste if you didn’t walk through that gate. It was just a small metallic gate, painted in black and surrounded by a hedge. You swallowed whatever nerves were keeping you from going inside and opened the gate. Walking around the corner of the house, you were met with your neighbors in Mingyu’s backyard. As soon as you saw him, your worries melted away. Seeing that he had followed your plan to match outfits made you smile. Mingyu was standing by the grill with his back towards you but turned around as soon as he heard the gate close. You waved to him, and he motioned for you to come over. Standing next to him made it easier for him to wrap his arm around your waist.

“Welcome, sweetheart,” he said quietly, as if he wanted to make sure that no one else heard. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good,” you hummed. “Do I look okay?”

Mingyu looked at you up and down, drinking in your appearance, and pulled a grimace that screamed.

“Are you kidding?” He pulled you in a little closer and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Trust me; if it weren’t for the amount of people here, I’d take you right on-” You playfully smacked his arm before he could finish his sentence. Seeing your shy smile, Mingyu puffed out his chest with pride - biting back his smile.

“You look perfect,” he said.

“So do you,” you replied, making the man’s ear turn red.

At the end of the evening, you were the last guest in Mingyu’s cottage. Just like you had every other night, you were standing beside Mingyu doing the dishes. Lucky for him, he had a dishwasher, but the two of you still had to wash the things that couldn’t go in there. You were drying and putting dishes away while Mingyu was washing them. The both of you worked in comfortable silence, but you were itching to say something.

“Tonight was great,” you expressed.

“I’m glad you thought so, sweetheart.” Mingyu dried off his hands on a towel after he had handed you the last of the dishes. “You’re leaving tomorrow morning, aren’t you?”

“I am.” You sighed. “And you’re staying?”

“Just a few more days… I still haven’t finished moving all the furniture, thanks to you.” He nudged your side. “You should take responsibility for your actions.”

You scoffed and put away the dry dishes. Mingyu was silent for a while, which garnered your attention. You turned around to see him leaning against the kitchen island, looking at you wistfully. A strong urge to walk over to him, hold him, and tell him everything would be okay, rushed over you, but you stood still in your place by the kitchen counter.

“I’ll be lonely without you,” Mingyu admitted. You didn’t answer - you didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck. Mingyu moved on autopilot, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You relaxed against his touch, letting out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in. Breaking the soft moment, Mingyu started leaving kisses along your neck and clavicle.

“What are you doing?” You let out a giggle at the ticklish feeling of his lips.

“Giving you a final going-away-present,” he muttered. His ticklish kisses turned into something that’d most definitely leave marks the next day. You let out a gasp as he found a sensitive spot right by your ear. With one of your hands, you moved Mingyu’s face so that you could look him in the eye. There was still a sad look in his eyes, but they were slowly being replaced by something more lustful.

“Bedroom?” You asked. Without another word, Mingyu picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

You found yourself lost in him again. Mingyu was everywhere: his taste, his smell, his touch surrounding you and infecting your brain. Your bodies moved against each other slowly, letting out low grunts and subdued moans. He was leaning above you, and your legs were wrapped around his waist. The slow pace would have usually been almost painful, but now you never wanted it to stop. You needed it to be slow, take as long as it needed to, so you didn’t ask him to go any faster. Mingyu reached out for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, shutting his eyes tight as his lips parted to let out a string of curses.

“You okay?” You asked with a chuckle.

“I’m okay.” He took a shaky breath. “Just hold my hand…”

“I’m not letting go, baby,” you promised. His head fell into the crook of your neck, and Mingyu let out another moan. You laughed at his reaction, finding it sweet how much you affected him. Your laugh got cut off by a moan when Mingyu began thrusting harsher into you - still not faster, just harder. He left wet kisses along your clavicle, whining against your skin. The two of you had been doing this for what felt like forever, and the stimulation was taking over him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned.

One thing about Mingyu, when you got him going it was hard to stop him. You knew that he had been close to cumming several times already, and each time he had found a reason to pause. He had been edging himself for possibly an hour or more, and by now, his brain was fried. You took his face in your hands, bringing him up to look you in the eye and cooing at his clouded expression. It wasn’t like you weren’t drunk on lust too, but Mingyu was way further gone than you. Now that you had him like this, mindlessly thrusting into you, you knew he wouldn’t stop until you were cumming all over his cock. You almost felt bad for him. He needed someone to take care of him- he needed you to take care of him.

“Do you want to cum with me, baby?” You asked quietly between moans. Mingyu nodded, putting his head back in the crook of your neck. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, Mingyu brought his hand between your bodies to rub your swollen clit. Your jaw went slack, wanton moans escaping you without a single care for who heard. Mingyu’s thrusts grew quicker, chasing both his own and your high. As your orgasm came rippling over you, dissolving you into pleasure, Mingyu came as well. He chased his breath between every other moan. His voice strained from how much he had been using it. Your hands played with his hair as he continued subtly grinding against you until his body fell limp against you.

You fell asleep holding Mingyu but woke up with his back turned against you. Without realizing that you were doing it, you had reached out to touch the skin where his neck met his shoulders. Your fingertips followed the crevices and curves of his form, your eyes following them - studying him. No matter how many times you looked at him, you always found new things. A mole here, a wrinkle there - everything felt sacred to you like you had discovered something important each time just because they were a part of him. You could look at him like this all day. A feeling started blooming in your chest, a feeling that you didn’t want to acknowledge or ever think of again. Mingyu stirred in his sleep, making you pull away your hand from him. The truth was that you were falling for him. Every time you kissed him, it just felt right, but you still felt the need to try it over and over again - just to see if it was real. He made you nervous in the best of ways. He made you laugh until you cried. More importantly, he made you feel loved. This feeling reminded you too much of Wonwoo, and you had to leave. Your things were already packed in the back of your car, you had never given him your phone number, and there was no way he could ever meet you again. Despite ignoring it for as long as you could, you knew that this was how it had to end. You recognized this path all too well, and you couldn’t be the other woman for a second time. As you kissed Mingyu's shoulder, you whispered out

“Goodbye” - and you left without a trace. When you got home to your mom’s apartment that afternoon, it was empty. Your mother’s absence didn’t stop you. There was no going back now. You had to build yourself up again. The traveling bags stayed in your car, and you started looking for apartments right away.

You had money saved up already, but after you had managed to sell your old apartment, you had enough money to move overseas if you wanted to. Nevertheless, you settled for a small apartment in a good neighborhood. It was smaller than your last apartment but had beautiful, big windows. There was one bedroom, a kitchen attached to a smaller living room, and a gorgeous bathroom. It was more than you could ask for. The money you had gotten from selling the apartment wouldn’t last forever, of course - you had to get a job. Despite wanting to escape your old life, you didn’t want to give up every aspect of it. You managed to find a job at a prestigious primary school situated near your apartment. You had contacts there through charities that you had helped Wonwoo set up - he proved to be of help for something, after all. It wouldn’t be like teaching kindergarten, but you were up for the challenge. Everything was going your way; you had your apartment, you had a pretty good job, and you had made it all on your own. Maybe it was destiny. What if the whole thing with your ex-husband was meant to be? So that you could be independent so that you could be happy. However, there was no way you could deny the fact that you missed Mingyu. You felt bad for what you did, and you’d never really forget him, but you couldn’t get the possibility of heartbreak out of your brain around him.

You spend a year like this, living each day without thinking about what might happen in the future. Every morning you wake up around six am. you got up, made a quick breakfast, got in the shower for a few minutes before getting dressed, and finally left for work. The primary school you worked at was close enough for you to walk to, and you had grown to enjoy your daily stroll - especially on a sunny spring day like this. However, it all was ruined when you heard someone call your name. Turning around to see who it was, you were met with Wonwoo walking out of a café. He was with other people in suits, but they let him be as he excused himself. You were frozen in your place. You could only watch as he walked towards you. He looked tired, new-parent-tired, but otherwise, he looked the same.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Wonwoo.” You sent him a tight-lipped smile.

“I haven’t seen you in so long- how have you been?” He looked apologetic but smiled nevertheless.

“I’m good,” you replied. “I got a job at a primary school near here… Everglade Primary School.”

“Oh really?” He gave you an impressed nod. “It’s quite prestigious, isn’t it?”

“A little. The kids are great.” You nodded. “... how have you been? Is everything alright with Gyeong Hui?” You were secretly hoping that everything was horrible for him, and as the thought struck you, you got a dreadful feeling in your stomach.

“Oh, uhm… she’s great. We’re actually… we’re expecting again,” he said quietly as if the words would break you if they were too loud. “It’s been difficult… our daughter just started walking, and we’re trying to handle her while simultaneously handling the pregnancy… It's a lot.”

“I could imagine.” You nodded. “Do you… do you have any pictures?” Wonwoo pulled out his phone and showed you his lock screen. A small babe in pink overalls. She was adorable. Her large eyes looked just like Wonwoo’s.

“She has your eyes.” You said as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“A lot of people say that.” He tried to hold back his proud smile. He was happy. You should be happy for him, but all you felt was a pit growing in your stomach. “I wanted to apologize, Y/N.”

“Apologize?”

“For how everything turned out, I mean…” He looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright-” The embarrassment heating your face made you speak without thinking first. “I’m seeing someone new.”

“Really?” Wonwoo raised his eyebrows as he looked back at you. “Good. I’m happy for you. So, who’s the lucky guy?” Did he have to be so perfect? Here he was, feeling happy for you when you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. The lies came bubbling up your throat again before you could stop them.

“His name is Mingyu,” you said. “We met last year.”

“Well, I hope it works out for you.” He smiled. “And that I get to meet this Mingyu sometime.”

“Of course.” You nodded. “Listen… I have to get to my students… but it was good to see you again!”

The two of you said goodbye and went your separate ways. You had no idea why you had decided to lie. Maybe it was because he was doing so well- you just wanted to make sure that he didn’t think you were alone and sad… although you were alone and sad. There was a very big chance that you would never meet him again, which would mean that you wouldn’t have to show him your “new boyfriend”. It was a harmless lie… hopefully. The lie had made you think of Mingyu again and how it would’ve been if you had waited for him to wake up that morning. Maybe he would’ve turned around and hugged you close, making some comment about how he forgot to close the blinds the night before. Then you would’ve had breakfast together, and before you left to go home, he would’ve asked for your number. Maybe you’d be living with him in an apartment now, just the two of you in a cozy condo. You couldn’t keep thinking like this. It’d just ruin you. So you shook off the lonely feeling and put on a smile for your morning class.

The rest of your day went on normally, teaching your second-grade class and also starting to teach the third-grade class. Their old teacher had fallen ill, taking an indefinite break, and you had offered to take over. It meant that you had more work to do, but you didn’t mind. You spent the day helping them with spelling and reading, and towards the end of the day, you let them do arts and crafts while they waited for their caretakers to pick them up. The school had a system where you needed to check off the caretakers who came and picked the kids up, which allowed you to talk with all of the kids’ grown-ups. Usually, you would chat with the caretakers of each kid while they got ready to leave. For some reason, it had become your favorite part of the day - except when the parents were rude, of course. There were only two kids left in your classroom now; the twins Kim Jiu and Ari. They were sweet kids, Jiu slightly shyer than her sister. There were three names on the list beside theirs; their grandparents and their father. From the history, you could see that their grandparents were usually the ones to pick them up. However, they always seemed to be on time. You sat down next to the girls, the two of them still drawing and unbothered by the time they had spent there.

“Hey, girls,” you said, getting their attention for a second before they returned to their drawings. “Do you remember if your grandparents told you that they’d be late today?”

“Our dad is picking us up,” Ari said.

“Is he always a bit late?” you asked, and Ari nodded.

“He works a lot,” Jiu said. She was focused on her drawing. It was a yellow house with green vines growing on it. You looked over her shoulder, finding the house oddly familiar. She mumbled that it was her grandparents' house in the woods. Before you could ask her more questions, the doors to your classroom opened. You recognized his voice before you even had to look at him.

“Sorry, I’m late, girls!” Frozen in fear, you wondered how your past might have snuck up on you twice today. When you finally turned your head to look at the girls’ dad, you saw Mingyu. He was wearing a suit, his hair slightly longer than the last time you had seen him, and his eyes were big with shock.

“Daddy!” Jiu shouted as she ran up to hug her dad’s leg. Mingyu looked away from you to crouch down to hug his daughters, both Ari and Jiu engulfing him. You watched as the girls rambled on about their day. Glancing back at your list, you looked at the father’s name: Kim Mingyu. Maybe you should have known. With a deep breath, you mustered up the courage to walk up to them. Mingyu stood up to greet you.

“They’ve behaved well, I hope,” he said. You knew he recognized you, you could see it in his eyes, but you understood why he couldn’t say anything in front of the twins.

“Oh, they’ve been wonderful. They’ve been welcoming,” you said. “It’s my first day teaching their class.”

“I saw the email.” He nodded and looked down at the girls. “I told them to be on their best behavior.”

“Well, thank you.” You clasped your hands in front of you.

“Are you busy right now?”

“Uhm… no.”

“Could you… follow me out to the car? I have to talk to you.”

Of course, you usually don't follow people out to their cars… but this wasn’t any other parent. You nodded and followed them outside. You recognized his car as the one you had seen standing outside his cottage. Mingyu got his girls into their car seats and closed the doors, making sure they couldn’t hear anything. He turned to you, unable to look you in the eyes at first. Your heart was already beating a mile per minute, but it only quickened when Mingyu met your gaze.

“You left to become a primary school teacher?” He asked, somewhat jokingly.

“I was already a teacher before I met you,” you explained. “And I left because I knew I couldn’t commit to you- which was maybe for the best, seeing as you have kids. Were you married all this time?”

“I’m widowed,” he said calmly. “Their mother died in childbirth.” Your worries melted away. You hadn’t been the other woman again. The worry was replaced with embarrassment and sorrow for both the man in front of you and his kids. How could this day keep getting worse?

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “You didn’t know… and I should’ve told you about Jiu and Ari- I was going to eventually.” There was a pause. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Mingyu reached for your hand, but you quickly stepped away.

“Your kids are in the car,” you said. “We shouldn’t be discussing this here.”

Mingyu reached for his pocket, pulling out a silver rectangle box. It was thin, and when he opened it you could see it was filled with a few cards. He picked one of them up and handed it to you. Kim Mingyu, CEO. His number and the name of his company stood under it in the same black font.

“I want to talk to you again.” He put the box back in his pocket. “Please, call me.”

You accepted the card, studying the letters before looking back at the man in front of you. He wore the same wistful smile he had that last evening in his kitchen. You had never wanted to kiss someone this badly.

“You should go,” you whispered.

“I know,” he murmured. “For what it’s worth… I’m glad I got to see you again.” Unable to say anything, afraid that the tears would come pouring out if you did, you simply nodded. You watched him get in the car before leaving to go back to your classroom.

When you got home that evening, you didn’t know whether you should cry or shout out of happiness. All of these random occurrences made you believe in destiny. To celebrate, you took a hot shower and made yourself a gourmet dinner in the form of your favorite instant ramen, only to sit down on the couch to watch some bad show on Netflix. The card Mingyu gave you sat on the coffee table, distracting you from the movie you had picked. You picked it up and turned it around - fiddling and playing around with it. A sigh escaped your lips, and, with a lot of effort, you sat up and paused the movie. Dialing the number on the card, your thumb rested over the call button. If you didn’t call, he’d just show up to pick up his kids the next day - and that’d be more awkward than a simple phone call. You pressed the green button and put the phone next to your ear, bringing your knees up to your chest. It rang three times before he picked up.

“Hello, this is Kim Mingyu.” He sounded irritated.

“Hi, it’s Y/N… is this a bad time?”

“Oh, Y/N.” His voice immediately changed when he heard who it was. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else… how are you?”

“I’m good…” You took a deep breath. “Are you?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” The name slipped out of his lips naturally and causally, but it made your heart flip in your chest. “I just put the kids to bed, so we should have some time to talk.”

“Mingyu…” You cringed at the shake in your voice. “I’m sorry for walking out on you.”

“I understand- you had your reasons,” he said. “I’m sorry for not telling you about the kids.”

“We didn’t talk much, did we?” Mingyu’s laughter was like heaven to your ears, even if it was short and quiet. The tension in your shoulders started fading away.

“You’re right,” he said. “We should meet up sometime. Talk things through.”

“We definitely should…” You bit your bottom lip to try to contain your happiness. “Maybe for coffee?”

“A public space sounds smart.” Mingyu chuckled. “I’ll look at my schedule… I’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“Is that why your parents have been picking up the twins?” you asked without thinking.

“It is,” he admitted. “I try to do it as much as I can… it’s just hard being a single dad.”

“If it helps, your girls seem to think the world of you,” you said, remembering the way their faces had lit up when he walked into the classroom.

“Thanks, Y/N.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll try to pick them up more… Are you always there during pick-up?”

“Don’t change your schedule to come see me at work,” you joked.

“Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.” You grinned. “... I’m taking care of Ari’s and Jiu’s classes all days except for Mondays. I’ll be there for their play at the end of the month too.”

“Shit- I forgot about the play…” Mingyu groaned. “You know what? I’ll make time for it… I just have to move some things around in my schedule.”

“They’ll be very pleased if you show up,” you promised. “Those girls have been working extra hard, from what I heard.” You heard someone crying in the background and Mingyu cooing at, who you thought must be, one of his daughters. He was holding the phone away from him, but you could hear his comforting words and the shuffling of clothes as he probably lifted the child into his arms.

“Sorry, Y/N, Ari had a nightmare,” he said in a hushed tone. “I’ll see you soon. We’re still on for coffee, right?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Don’t forget the play.” “I won’t,” he promised and hung up.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ PART TWO. After that phone call, Mingyu kept picking up the girls. He couldn’t do it all the time, of course, but he tried his hardest to show up. Mostly for his girls, especially after you told him how excited they get when they know he’s picking them up, but in part because he gets to see you again. Moreover, the increase in the days he would pick them up wasn’t going unnoticed by the twins. It was late afternoon.

Everyone had left the classroom except for Jiu and Ari, who were sitting in their places drawing. You had been cleaning up, but as soon as everything was put away and the tables were wiped, you sat down next to the girls - which is when you noticed an unusual detail in Jiu’s drawing. Ari always used to make scribbles, preferring to finger-paint or make interesting patterns across the paper with a pen, but Jiu always drew things as she saw them. This time, she had drawn a family portrait. On the page were two smaller people and two taller people. It was a man and a woman. The twins had never met their birth mom, but there was still a woman on the paper. You tried to calm down your nerves - but what if this was a cry for help? What if Jiu needed counseling and she just didn’t know how to say it? She was the quiet one of the two, so it wouldn’t surprise you if she had decided to hold it all in. Not wanting to make a scene, you decided to start a conversation with both of the twins.

“What are you making, girls?” you asked the both of them, looking over at Jiu’s painting with a tinge of worry in your chest.

“A rainbow flowerfield,” Ari said casually as her pen ran across the paper.

“A family portrait,” Jiu said quietly, intently focusing on the details of the grass.

“... could you tell me more about your painting, Jiu?” You studied the four figures on the page.

“That’s dad, me, and Ari.” She pointed out the figures on the paper, eventually getting to the fourth figure. “And that’s you.”

“Me?” You didn’t know if you misheard her, but Jiu nodded confidently. “Why am I in your family portrait, Jiu?”

“Because Dad talks about you all the time,” Ari answered for her sister. “And when Dad comes to pick us up, he always stays and talks with you.”

“You girls are attentive…” You cleared your throat.

“What does attentative mean?” Jiu asked. Before you could answer, Mingyu knocked on the already-opened door to gain your attention. You looked up at him, all of your thoughts disappearing at the sight of his smile.

“Ready to go, girls?” He asked.

“Gotta go, Mom.” Ari put away her things and grabbed her painting before running over to her dad. You hoped that Mingyu hadn’t heard her, but one look at him said otherwise. His eyes were wide, confused over whether he should laugh it off or be concerned. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he looked over at you. Jiu was still gathering her things and with Ari hanging onto his leg, Mingyu walked over to the table where the two of you sat. You stood up immediately, walking away to pretend that you were busy.

“It happens all the time,” you said, looking over your shoulder. It didn’t happen all the time, maybe once or twice per semester.

“I’m so sorry- I think it’s because they see us together so much and-”

“It’s because you talk about her all the time,” Ari interrupted her father. “And she takes care of us when you’re not here, like a mom.”

Mingyu’s face went red and avoided your gaze. Ari’s comment gave you the confidence to walk over to the small family again, having the upper hand now that you knew he talked about you.

“Do you talk about me, Mr. Kim?” you teased.

“Maybe sometimes- you know, before they have to go to school, I tell them to not cause any incidents for you,” he stammered out. "Last night, you asked if Ms. Y/L/N was sick,” Jiu added to the conversation, aiding her sister in the battle against their dad.

“Because you looked a bit tired,” he explained. “And I care about this school's staff- as anyone should.”

“But you never talk about Mr. Hong,” Ari said, “You only ask about Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Alright, girls, I think it's time for us to go home now.” Mingyu ushered the girls towards the door.

“But I want to stay with Mom.” Ari grinned widely, seemingly enjoying making her dad embarrassed.

“I won't go if she doesn’t.” Jiu joined in, crossing her arms over her chest and making her sister do the same.

“Girls, this is really inappropriate-”

“I could go get something to eat right now…” you said. “You girls like cake, right?” The twins cheered, hurrying to get their backpacks and coats. Mingyu looked over at you with a relieved expression. You walked over to your desk to grab your things, and when you turned around, you were met with a thankful-looking Mingyu.

“Cake always works,” you said. “It’s okay right?”

“Of course.” He smiled before turning to the girls again. “Let’s get some cake, ladies!”

There’s a cute little café around the corner from the primary school. You had gone there to celebrate your new job when you first got there, and you remember that their cakes and coffee were delicious. The four of you found a free corner of the booth, where the two girls got to sit on the couch while you and Mingyu took the chairs on the opposite side. While the twins were enjoying the cakes they had gotten, you were waiting for Mingyu to bring over the coffee. He came over with a small tray; standing on it were two cups of coffee and a piece of red velvet cake.

“You still like red velvet, right?” he asked.

“I do- but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s an apology,” he said. “For putting off our date for so long.”

You smiled and let your objections die down. One thing was for sure, Ari had gotten her stubbornness from her dad - and you didn’t want to start something you knew you would lose. Looking over at the two girls talking between themselves, then back at Mingyu, the realization of what you were doing washed over you.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you mumbled.

“I’m happy you are, though,” Mingyu answered. “When Ari’s put her mind to something, she won’t stop until she gets her way.”

At hearing her name, Ari turned to her dad and stuck out her tongue - to which he, of course, responded by sticking out his tongue at her as well. You chuckled at the interaction and took a sip of your coffee.

“It’s a nice trait.” You put your cup back down. “And she finally got me that promised coffee date with you.”

Mingyu put a hand on your knee under the table, trying to convey that he was sorry for not doing this sooner. You sent him a gentle smile in return, making him take his hand away. You picked up the spoon from the tray, sliced into the cake with it, and took a first bite. It wasn’t as good as the muffins Mingyu had given you, but it was still lovely. Using the spoon to get another piece, you held it up to Mingyu’s lips this time. Holding your gaze, he let you feed him. For a moment, everything else disappeared. You had forgotten just how much Mingyu’s eyes could make you feel. However, the moment was ruined as you heard giggles across the table. You quickly put the spoon down and pretended like you hadn’t just gotten butterflies in your stomach.

“I’m glad you can be our mom,” Jiu said suddenly. “The other lady wasn’t as nice as you.” The other lady? You looked over at Mingyu again with an arched brow, silently asking him to explain himself.

“I was seeing someone before I met you. It ended pretty quickly… that’s why I spent some time at the cottage last year,” he explained, and the tension in your shoulders disappeared. “It isn’t nice to talk behind people’s backs, okay kids? And Ms. Y/L/N isn’t your mom.”

“Why not?” Ari asked.

“Because…” Mingyu tried to find an answer but trailed off instead. You weren’t one to put yourself into other people’s business, but explaining things to kids was your job - and you trusted that Mingyu wouldn’t take offense to you saying a few words at this moment, especially not since he kept glancing over at you.

“You know when you really like someone?” You said, getting the girls' attention. “You might decide that you’re going to hold hands or be together, right?” The two girls nodded. “We adults do the same thing,” you explained. “Except for us, there’s a stage before we say that we’re together. We spend some time getting to know each other better by going out and doing things like getting dinner or seeing a movie.”

“Are you doing that right now?” Jiu asked.

“Not exactly…” You looked over at Mingyu, who gave you a supportive nod. “Usually, you spend time alone together, and I haven’t gotten to do that with your dad… so we’re not together, and that’s why I can’t be your mom.”

“Then I think he needs to hurry up,” Jiu deadpanned before taking the last bite of her cake. Glancing over at Mingyu again, you saw how flustered he had gotten from the comment. You decided at that moment that you’d join the girls in their teasing - seeing his flushed face was enough motivation.

“He should hurry, shouldn’t he?” you said, and both of the girls nodded. “Well, I’ll forgive him since he’s been so busy - but he needs to make up for it.”

“Could he take you out to dinner tomorrow night, then?” Mingyu asked with a sheepish smile.

“What do you think?” You turned to the girls. They were both furiously nodding, making you break out into a chuckle. You turned back to Mingyu, pretending to think it over. He looked like he was about to fall apart, so you decided to put him out of his misery. “Absolutely.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ It’s a Saturday evening when you’re getting ready for your date. You had spent your day at home, trying to find an outfit to wear for your night out. Mingyu had texted you to wear something pretty, but that it should be comfortable for you. With the vague directions, there were a myriad of things that you could put together. You hadn’t been on a real date since before Wonwoo - unless you counted what you and Mingyu did at the cottage as dating. The expectations were high, which left you feeling stressed. However, when you find an old dress in the back of your closet, you feel the tension in your shoulders melt away. It was a dress you had bought two years ago that you hadn’t gotten to wear yet - you had bought it yourself, which was unusual during your last relationship, without a plan for when you were going to wear it. You had just bought it because it was pretty, and it still managed to make you feel beautiful. For once, during these traumatic few years, you felt pretty and subsequently happy. You knew you shouldn’t base your happiness on your beauty, but was it so wrong to feel glee over getting ready and genuinely liking what the mirror showed you? The apartment phone rang, and you pressed the button to answer. A surge of energy went through your veins at the thought of Mingyu coming to get you - your heart quickening to a pitter-patter pace.

“Hello?” You said.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice rang sweetly in your ears. “Could you let me up?”

“I’ll come down to meet you!” you chimed. Mingyu’s soft chuckle even managed to make you weak in the knees over the apartment phone.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.” When the elevator doors open, you can see Mingyu’s figure through the glass of the front door. Sprinting toward the door, you excitedly pulled it open to see all of him. Mingyu smiled as soon as he saw you, making your heart feel even warmer. His eyes traveled up and down your body, drinking in your appearance. He looked fantastic himself, in his usual suit and perfectly styled hair.

“Hi,” you said as you closed the door behind you, unable to look away from him.

“Wow,” was all Mingyu said.

“Do you like it?” You looked down at the dress, twisting and turning so that he could see a little more of it.

“You look stunning,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take. “I love it.”

You take his hand, and he guides you away from the apartment complex. His words made you feel giddy, the kind of feeling you get when you watch a very romantic movie with a handsome lead. At the end of the street, you see a cab waiting for you. The walk to the car is silent but filled with anticipation. Mingyu’s hand is warm in yours, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. When you arrive at the cab, Mingyu opens the door for you and holds your hand while you get in before he gets in beside you. The evening started with drinks. As you had expected, the restaurant he took you to was fancy. You had been to these kinds of places before, but it had been a while - and you had never been to this particular place. Mingyu ordered for you, per your request, and you ended up being pleasantly surprised. The food was almost too pretty to eat, but when you did, it was like your mouth had an orgasm. Your eyes widened as you chewed, looking over at Mingyu to see if he was having the same experience. He was looking at you with an amused smile.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“More than okay.” You put down your fork as if you could take a break from the intense flavor. “This is delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Mingyu chuckled.

“I do- I mean, maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten something like this in a while…” You picked up your wine glass and brought it to your lips.

“Well, it’s our first date, so it has to be special.” Mingyu was looking down at his plate, an uncharacteristically shy smile playing on his lips.

“It is special.” You put your hand, palm facing up, on the table. “I’m happy you asked me out.”

Mingyu put his hand in yours, locking eyes with yours again. The two of you look at each other, the rest of the restaurant fading away. Butterflies fly out of your ribcage, tickling the insides of your chest with their wings. Mingyu looks like your dream man; kind eyes, a pretty smile, and a beautiful man in general - the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Not only that, he was kind and understanding; patient and confident. The waiter walking over to give the two of you your next meal was the only reason you broke out of your trance. You thanked the waiter and ogled at the delicious-looking food. Another waiter came by to pour you more wine. While you were reacting to your surroundings, Mingyu stayed looking at you lovingly.

“Do you want to go dancing after this?” He asked suddenly.

“Dancing? What kind of dancing?”

“Ballroom dancing,” Mingyu said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know a place.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You chuckled. “Sure, I’ll go dancing with you.” Mingyu squeezed your hand before letting go to start eating.

After dinner, the two of you get back into a cab and travel from the city towards the suburbs. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you trusted him fully - maybe it was the alcohol, or Mingyu had truly laid out all of his cards on the table for you to see. In the back of the cab, you were sitting cuddled up next to Mingyu. His warmth was intoxicating, and you found yourself sinking further and further into his shoulder. Outside, the city lights grew fewer and fewer as you got closer to your destination in the suburbs. There were the occasional streetlights, but they were less bright than everything in the city. Darkness lulled over you like a parental blanket, urging you to close your eyes and sleep in the comfort of Mingyu’s presence. However, before you could fall asleep, you had arrived at your destination and Mingyu helped you out of the cab. You had stopped in front of a beautiful, old building with large windows. Music was playing inside, which you could hear from where you were standing on the sidewalk, but it was too muddled to figure out what it was. The chilly air woke you up somewhat, but sleep still lingered in the corner of your eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, sweetheart.” Mingyu came up beside you after paying for the cab and let you hook your arm around his. “This is one of my favorite places, I’m practically a regular, and I want you to enjoy it with me.”

“Then I have to stay awake, don’t I?” You steadied yourself against the man beside you and followed him inside the establishment. When you walk inside, Mingyu says his name to the receptionist, and they let him inside. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a regular. The corridor was wide and lit with warm-tinted lamps, giving everything a golden hue. It looked straight out of an Art Deco architecture magazine; marble floors with a geometric design, dark green walls, and golden details here and there. You were glad that you hadn’t fallen asleep - especially as you approached the ballroom. It was a large, round room - in the middle of which people were currently dancing. You could see a few people who looked to be around your age, but most of them seemed to be pensioners.

“You weren’t joking about ballroom dancing,” you said. “Why would I?”

He grinned and offered you his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Oh- well, I’m not any good-”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Mingyu grabbed your hand and dragged you out to the dance floor. One of his hands rested on your waist while the other still held yours. It was a simple foxtrot, but you still had trouble following along. You kept stepping on Mingyu’s feet, cringing every time you did. However, when you tried to look down to see what you were doing, you were quickly corrected by Mingyu. He’d remove his hand from your waist to lift your chin back up, making you face him. Each time you’d huff, and he’d chuckle at your annoyance. It all became a little easier when a little slower song came on: Body & Soul by Billie Holiday. Mingyu brought you in a little closer, your chests touching completely. His cheek leaned against yours, and his hand on your back traveled up to rest right by your shoulder blades. The two of you simply swayed, moving in small steps around the room. In this relaxed tempo, you could finally stop and think.

“Why are you a regular here?” You asked.

“I’m not really,” he explained, “They’ve held a few charities here that I’ve donated to, and sometimes they hold events here for the people at the retirement home that you can volunteer for. I go whenever I have the time, so they’ve seen a lot of me.”

“Are you even real?” You jokingly asked as you removed your cheek from his to take a good look at him. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Well…” He breathed out. “There’s this woman that I’m practically head over heels for… but I can’t seem to get my shit together and kiss her, even though it’s all I can think about.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrow at him, playing along. “Tell me more about this woman.”

“Alright... First of all, she’s gorgeous,” he hummed. “More importantly, she’s warm-hearted, and she’s great with my kids- which is a big deal breaker for me… and I admire her strength, how she can keep going after what she’s been through.”

“Yeah?” You wrapped both of your arms around his neck.

“Yeah,” he said.

“I think she wants to kiss you, too,” you admitted. Mingyu put his free hand on your cheek, bringing you in for a chaste kiss… followed by another, slightly longer one. The two of you stopped moving, focusing on just getting closer. When he pulled away from you, he started smiling proudly.

“As much as I loved being here, I really want to leave with you now,” you murmured.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” Mingyu pecked your lips a final time before leading you off the dance floor.

Outside the venue, the air was colder than it had been when you had gotten out of the cab earlier that evening. Noticing your shivering, Mingyu shrugged off his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You were about to protest, but feeling the warmth wrap around you made you quiet down.

“Thank you,” you said to him.

“I can’t have you getting a cold on our first date,” he mumbled. “Do you want to walk around for a bit? This place is peaceful at this time of night.”

“I’d like that.” You gave him a nod and a smile, locking arms with him again. Mingyu walked slowly with you down the street. It was peaceful, as he had said; most of the lights in the houses were off, but the few homes that were still awake gave the street a certain glow. It all feels magical, too good to be true… which it is. You don’t recognize him at first. You only see a couple walking with their stroller. However, when they get closer, you can’t help but recognize your ex-husband. Surprisingly, he doesn’t see you at first - he notices Mingyu first.

“Kim Mingyu!” He said with a smile and a wave. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Mr. Jeon.” Mingyu goes to shake your old lover’s hand. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since our meeting.”

The two of them talked while you stood frozen in fear. Do they know each other? How had you never seen them together before? Your eyes went over to the stroller, and seeing the baby in it made your heart sink. She looked like Wonwoo - you had seen his baby photos, and she was almost a complete replica of them. Gyeong Hui gave you a bittersweet smile, looking at you with knowing eyes. She had already recognized you. Looking back at Wonwoo, who was still talking to Mingyu, you wondered if he was happy. All of these thoughts were washed away when you finally met Wonwoo’s gaze. For a moment, you forgot that he had moved on from you. His eyes were kind, a soft smile on his lips. However, as quickly as he managed to make you feel comfortable, he also made your nerves worse.

“Y/N…” he said. “Hi.”

“Hi, Wonwoo.” Your voice was weak, more so than you wanted to.

“Ah… is this the Mingyu you were talking about?” He pointed between you and Mingyu, and you could feel the man next to you tense up.

“I… uh…” You looked at Mingyu, who didn’t show a twinge of confusion despite you being caught in your lie. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you found someone like him.” Wonwoo approving of your relationship was the last thing you wanted. You didn’t want him to have anything to do with your new relationship - you just wanted him out of your life. After some small talk, you go your separate ways. Wonwoo goes home with his family, and you’re left standing, feeling like the husk of yourself. Mingyu’s hand rested on your back, rubbing it comfortingly.

“I didn’t know…” he said.

“It’s okay,” you muttered. “I’m sorry about telling him I was seeing you- I didn’t even know what I was thinking. I just met him while on my way to work- I hadn’t even seen you since the cottages, but I just blurted out that we were dating and-”

“You don’t have to explain,” he interrupted. “It’s a little flattering in a way.”

You chuckled, immediately feeling lighter as he joked it away. Mingyu brought you in for a hug, letting you bury your face in his warm chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt tears start burning in your eyes. When Mingyu heard you sniffle, he put his hand on the back of your head - silently telling you to stay and cry for as long as you need to. You grip onto his shirt, probably creasing the expensive material. You couldn’t bring yourself to fully sob, but a few tears escaped from the corner of your eyes.

“Do you want me to call a cab and take you home?” Mingyu asked. You nodded, and Mingyu immediately pulled out his phone. Standing outside your apartment complex, Mingyu was still holding your hand. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying in the cab, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m sorry for ruining tonight,” you said.

“You didn’t.” He squeezed your hand. “I knew that things wouldn’t be completely normal with you, and I’m fine with that.”

“Stop being so perfect,” you jokingly groaned and leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” Mingyu laughed. You looked back up at him. Even if it was just a joke, to you, he truly was perfect. His big puppy-dog eyes looked back down at you as if he were trying to figure out what you were thinking about. When you leaned a little closer, Mingyu took the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss on your lips. It was chaste and sweet but left you wanting more.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” As Mingyu went to leave, you didn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t.

“... could you stay with me tonight?” You asked.

“Are you sure? You don’t want to be alone?”

“If you have a babysitter at home, I get it.” You put your other hand on his. “But I want you here, Mingyu.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that.” He smiles. “The girls are with their grandparents. I’ll just tell them that I’ll come by a little later tomorrow to pick them up.”

Mingyu made himself at home in your apartment, sitting with you on the couch while a movie is playing on the TV. Your head is on his chest, and Mingyu’s arm is wrapped around you. The domestic scene feels just right as if you’d been doing this for years together. However, as it gets late, you realize that you don’t have any clothes for Mingyu to borrow. He was still in his suit, sans jacket, and that couldn’t be too comfortable. So, while Mingyu was washing up in the bathroom, you were furiously looking through your wardrobe to find something for him to wear. You were so focused on the task at hand that you didn’t hear Mingyu walking into the room.

“Did you lose something?” He asked. His sudden question made you jump, quickly whipped around to look at him. Mingyu was holding his neatly folded clothes in his hands, putting himself on full display. He was standing confidently in nothing but his underwear as if he was straight out of a Calvin Klein ad.

“... I was going to find you something to wear.” You looked him up and down. “I guess that’s not an issue anymore.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen me naked before,” he joked.

“No, I-” You huffed. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I appreciate it, sweetheart, but I’m fine just like this if you are.” He put down his clothes on a nearby chair. “And if you want me to sleep on the couch, I’ll do that.”

“I want to sleep with you.” You regretted it as soon as you said it, twisting your face in embarrassment as you heard Mingyu chuckle. “I mean… I want to sleep next to you… I’m going to wash up. Make yourself comfortable.”

Before Mingyu could tease you, you left the room. You could hear him laugh behind you, making your cheeks get even hotter. After washing up in the bathroom, you change into your somewhat embarrassing pajamas and go back to the bedroom. Mingyu was lying in your bed. The covers dragged up to his mid-torso. He was scrolling on his phone but looked up as soon as he heard you come in. His eyes focused on your white pajama pants with small red hearts, a big grin appearing on his face.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned.

“They’re cute,” he assured you. Mingyu reached over to the other side of the bed, pulling away the covers for you to get in. Walking up to the side of the bed, you hesitantly sit down. You hadn’t slept in the same bed as him for over a year. It felt weird to see him like this like you were trying to remake a distant memory. Nevertheless, you lay down and pull up the covers. As Mingyu turns over to turn off the light, you watch his back carefully. A need to reach out and touch his bare skin fills you, burning in the bottom of your stomach. When Mingyu turned back around, he shuffled closer to you but didn’t touch you yet.

“... do you still like to cuddle to fall asleep?” he mumbled. Y

ou nodded and immediately shut your eyes as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you. His body was warm, and every muscle in your body relaxed under his touch. Your head was on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. At first, Mingyu’s hands stayed still on your back. However, they soon started moving around - drawing circles on your skin over the fabric of your shirt and even letting his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt.

“Mingyu…” you hummed.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asked innocently while his hands continued feeling you up.

“What are you doing?” You smiled, burying your face deeper in his chest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Mingyu’s hand made their way to the top of your pajama bottoms. Grazing the skin under the fabric, he whispered out if it was okay - to which you whimpered out a yes. He pulled down your pants to your mid-thigh, groping your ass before turning you around to lay with your back against his chest. You felt his semi-hard cock poking against your ass. The anticipation of finally feeling him inside you again made you dizzy. His hand cupped your pussy over the thin material of your underwear, then let his hand up to the hem of your panties… only to go past them and rest on your lower stomach.

“Gyu?” You mumbled as you were brought out of your daze.

“Are you sure you want this?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. You turned around to look at him. His pupils were blown out, but his eyes were still filled with worry. You got closer to him, pressing your lips against his in an attempt to show him how much you needed him right now. Mingyu responded to your kiss but pulled away just a few seconds later - his lips ghosting over yours.

“I just mean that you were upset before– I didn’t think before I started this,” he explained softly. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to or do it because you’re not in the right state of mind… you just looked so pretty, and I-”

“Gyu,” you repeated, getting him to stop talking. “I want you.” Your lips reconnected, and you could feel Mingyu smiling against you. You cling onto Mingyu’s shoulders as he turned you over to be on top of him. In the middle of your kiss, you managed to kick your pajama pants off - only breaking contact to let out a soft giggle at the strange situation. Sitting comfortably with your legs on either side of his hips, you began pressing quick kisses to his jaw. Trailing kisses down his neck, you find a sensitive spot right by his ear - that made a whine slip out between his lips when you attached your lips to it.

“I thought I had figured out how to push all of your buttons already,” you muttered against his skin.

“Guess you’ll have to keep experimenting on me.” He grinned. “I’m a willing test subject.”

“Of course you are,” you purred. You got down to his hips, pulling at his underwear until he helped you take them off. His big cock slapped against his abdomen, and your mouth watered at the sight. While Mingyu’s hands were gripping your pillows, you were trying to take his entire length in your mouth. Peering up at him through your lashes, you could see his face contorted in pleasure.

“I missed your mouth so much, baby,” he whined, and you hummed in response. “Fuck… you’re gonna make me cum from just that…” He gently grabbed your hair and pulled you off him. “Save it for another time,” he rasped. “I need to fuck you, please…”

“Do you have a condom?” you asked. “I don’t have any here…”

“No… but I got checked just a couple of months ago. I haven’t been with anyone since you last year,” he admitted.

“Are you asking me if you can fuck me raw?” You grinned.

“Yes?” You crawled back up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. He moaned into your mouth, and you felt yourself getting more and more lost in pleasure. Mingyu grabbed your hips, subtly moving them over his abs. Feeling the soft ridges over the material of your panties made you whine. You broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck me. I need you to take control of me,” you murmured. “Do what you want with me– just let me forget everything…”

Something in him snapped, and before you knew it, Mingyu had flipped you over, manhandling you to have your ass up in the air. Your chest was pressed against your mattress, your face hidden in the pillows. His cock, after having teased your entrance, stretched you out. He hadn’t prepped you for it at all, but he had gotten you wet enough to slide it in without much effort. A soft moan of relief left your lips as he bottomed out.

“Move,” you grunted. He followed your orders immediately, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back into you. You could picture his expression in front of you; his eyebrows knitted together, his eyes shut tight, and his mouth hung wide open. His hands were gripping your hips, pulling you back as he thrust his hips. The noises he was making were almost animalistic and mixed with the filthy sounds coming out of your mouth, you knew you were going to get a noise complaint. You couldn’t help it, and you didn’t care. Mingyu had never been so domineering before - asking him to take full control of you must have flipped a switch in his brain. So when he pulled you up by your hair, wrapping an arm around your middle to hold you there, you let out a surprised gasp. His thrusts continued while he started kissing the side of your neck.

“I’m better than him, aren’t I?” He grunted. At first, his words didn’t meet your brain, too far gone to process what he was saying. But when you finally understood what he had said, you were shocked at his bluntness. More importantly, you were shocked at how much you liked it.

“Yes,” you moaned. “

Say it.” “You’re better than him,” you whined. “Fuck– you’re bigger than him, too!”

“Yeah?” He thrust harder into you. “Gonna make you forget all about him… do you want that, baby?”

Words couldn’t come out of your mouth. Your jaw was slack, Mingyu coaxing moan after moan from your throat, and you could only nod. With inappropriately gentle hands, Mingyu helped you lay down with your back on the bed. The empty feeling you got when he pulled out of you made you whine, but you were soon shut up by Mingyu burying himself in you again. As he continued thrusting, his lips attached to your clavicle - trailing down to your chest to let his tongue slide over the pebbled flesh. Your fingers entangled themselves in his hair, holding him there.

“You’re making me feel so good, Gyu,” you whined, followed by a string of curses. “Please, make me cum!”

With a new motivation, Mingyu’s lips left you as he focused all of his energy on your cunt. Thrusting into your sopping hole and rubbing your clit until you were convulsing under him. As your eyes rolled into the back of your head, you saw a bright light and felt a warmth spreading from your core. After your orgasm, your limbs grew limp, and you didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes. Mingyu pulled out of you, cumming on your stomach after pumping his cock in his hand a few times. He collapsed beside you, making sure not to crush you with his body.

“Sweetheart?” His voice rang sweetly in your ears, making you smile. “Are you still awake?”

You hummed, turning to hug him closer. He welcomed you in his arms, and when your sweaty skin met his, you could swear that you could feel static between you. After a while of staying in the same position, you found yourself almost falling asleep. You knew that you’d hate yourself in the morning if you didn’t clean up, so you gently tapped Mingyu’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Can you help me to the bathroom?” you whispered. “Sure, sweetheart.”

Mingyu got up, stretching slightly before he picked you up like you weighed nothing. He carried you over to the bathroom with your guidance and put you down to draw the two of you a bath. You handed him some of your bath products - calming serums, bath bubbles, the works - which he put in without question. When your bathroom started smelling like an English garden and the bathtub was filled with water, Mingyu helped you into the tub and then sat down behind you. You settled in your place, relaxing your muscles in the hot water, and leaned your back against Mingyu’s broad chest. A sigh escaped your lips, and Mingyu chuckled.

“Feeling tired?” He teased, and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “It was worth it, though.” Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He pressed chaste kisses to your sensitive skin - suddenly so different from the way he was before. You turned your head to give him more access, but Mingyu’s kisses stopped.

“It was good then?” he asked with a slight hint of worry laced in his tone.

“Really good.” You looked at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you had that side in you.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” He pecked the side of your mouth. “You’ll find out.”

You grinned and turned back around, settling back into your previous position. The two of you sat there for a while until the water wasn’t quite as hot anymore. When you got back out, you drained the bath and washed off quickly before wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels. Your legs were still sore, but not as much as they were before the bath. Still, Mingyu insisted on helping you back to bed. After laying you down, he pulled the covers over your body and went around the bed to get in himself. Neither of you had bothered with putting on new clothes, and you found yourself enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours - nothing was in between you.

“Do you want me to stay tomorrow?” Mingyu asked suddenly.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to stay?” You chuckled. “I thought you might want space,” he mumbled.

“I’ve had enough space from you,” you reminded him. “Stay for as long as you want, Gyu.” Mingyu let out a giggle - you would never get over the feeling you got from hearing this big, confident man giggle. His arms wrapped a little tighter around you, pressing your face into his chest, and he put his chin on the top of your head. Mingyu’s giggle was contagious, almost like he was transmitting his energy to you.

“What?”

“I like it when you call me Gyu,” he said.

“Good,” you hummed. “Sleep well, Gyu.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss on the top of your head. You stayed with your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It started out fast, but as he slowly fell asleep, it started slowing down as well. The rhythm made you drift away to sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ PART THREE. The next time you saw Mingyu, it was unexpected. You had decided to go to the park to enjoy the spring warmth and an excellent book. It was Sunday the week after your date, which meant that you didn't have any work, and you could do whatever you liked with your time. The thought of asking Mingyu if he wanted to meet up certainly popped into your brain, but you assumed that he was busy. You had been texting him frequently, and he had shown up to pick up his kids almost every day the past week, but you still felt a little awkward to ask him out suddenly. The possibility of rejection was too high - he could be busy with work or with his kids, and you didn’t want to interrupt either of those things.

The park was big, another plus of living in a well-off neighborhood, and it had many benches where you could spend your leisure time. The weather was just right, not too cold and not too hot. There were some concerning dark clouds in the sky, but they were too far away for you to care about them. Most of the park was just fields, which was perfect for the dogs running around, but there were also small patches of trees and a few playgrounds here and there. It was a peaceful scene this early in the day. After walking for a while, you found a spot by a small duck pond with a bench looking over the water. After sitting down, you pulled out your book and started reading. It felt nice to get out of your apartment. if you hadn't, you would've been sitting on the couch watching yet another show by now. The thought was tantalizing, but being here was better for your overall health. Besides, if you hadn't ended up sitting down at that bench, you wouldn't have met up with Mingyu. In the distance, you could hear a familiar pitchy voice shout your name. When you looked up, you saw two kids running toward you.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Ari shouted with a big smile, her sister running right beside her.

Behind them, you could see Mingyu walking towards you. He was unusually dressed down - just light-wash jeans and a white collared shirt under a thin jacket - but it suited him. You put your finger where you left off on the page before closing the book. A smile spread across your lips as you watched the two girls approach you, and you put the book back in your bag to greet them.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked as they reached the bench you were sitting on.

“We decided to take a morning walk to the duck pond.” Mingyu had caught up with the twins, now standing just a little bit away from the bench. “We tried our luck on the other side of the pond, but the ducks over there didn’t like us.”

“He was going to feed the ducks with us, but the ducks swam away,” Jiu explained.

“Yeah…” Ari disappointedly looked up at her dad, “He scared them away.”

“I was trying to get closer to them!” he exclaimed with an embarrassed look on his face. You let out a soft laugh at the trio. Their antics were endless, but you enjoyed watching the show they put on. A small ache took its place in your chest. Watching them made you remember the family that you had always wanted.

“Dad's also helping us practice for the play,” Jiu added. “Because he said he can't come on Friday, so he wanted to watch us do it now.”

You had almost forgotten that the play was just in a few days. Seeing the brave faces the girls put on, despite clearly being sad at the knowledge of their dad’s absence at the play, made your heart sink.

“You can't be there?” You furrowed your brows as you looked up at Mingyu.

“There's a meeting I have to be at, and it ends right as the play is supposed to start.” He sighed. “I told them I would try to make it, but, you know…”

“Well, I heard that they record the plays, so... maybe I can get you a copy of that,” you suggested. “But I do hope that you at least try to get there, even if you only see the last parts.”

"Of course…” He nodded, and the conversation faded into silence. “... I texted you this morning.”

“You did?” You took your phone out of your bag. “Sorry, I put my phone on silent earlier.”

It was a short message, a simple question if you would like to meet up in the park. You smiled when you saw it. When you looked back up at him, he was looking away. A slight blush was spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Dad said you couldn't come with us to see the ducks. Did you change your mind?” Jiu asked. Her question made Mingyu's face grow even redder, and your smile grew fonder. You looked down at Jiu, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face.

“Yes, I did,” you said and stood up.

“Oh, but if you're busy-” Mingyu started, but you quickly cut him off.

“I'm not busy,” you assured him.

Mingyu’s smile when you told him you’d join them made your heart soar, and you realized at that moment that you’d do anything to make him happy. You spent the day with Mingyu and his daughters, feeding the ducks, going to the playground, and simply enjoying each other's company. Towards the middle of the afternoon, the clouds that you hadn't bothered being worried about were a lot closer than before. Mingyu helped the girls zip up their coats before he turned to you. You were just wearing a blouse and a skirt since you weren't expecting to stay at the park for so long. It was cold, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Are you cold?” Mingyu asked, although he was already shrugging off his jacket.

“I’m fine, Mingyu,” you tried to protest, but it was in vain. Mingyu's jacket engulfed your shoulders as he draped it around you. He fixed the collar of the jacket to hang securely, also letting his hands stay near you. You looked up at his face. He was staring right at you with a warm look in his eye. You remembered the night you had spent together last week, wishing to go back there.

“I wouldn't want you to catch a cold,” he murmured. “You take care of my kids, after all.”

“Is that the only reason?” you asked, faking being offended.

“Of course not,” he said with a small smile as he gently pushed some hair out of your face. He opened his mouth to add something, but before he could it started raining. Small droplets landed on your nose. You looked up at the about-to-be-downpour and took a step away from him.

“We should go home,” Mingyu said, turning to his girls. “What do you say, girls?”

“Will Ms. Y/L/N come with us?” they asked.

“No, girls, I have to go home.” You crouched down to their eye level. “But I will see you tomorrow, okay?”

They both nodded and unexpectedly swung their small arms around your neck - the force almost making you stumble backward. You hugged them back and glanced up at Mingyu.

“I will see you tomorrow, too then?” He asked as you stood up.

“Of course.” You smiled. “I have to return this jacket, after all.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ The very next day, you were in your usual classroom, waiting for Mingyu to pick up his daughters. They were the last ones there, as they always were, but this time it was getting very late. You were stealing worried glances at the clock every other minute. What if something had happened to him on the way here? It was late enough for you to call him up and ask him where he was, and if he didn’t pick up, you’d need to call the kids’ grandparents.

“Did your dad say that he would be later than usual today?” You asked the girls carefully.

“No,” Ari said. “But he looked tired, so maybe he fell asleep.”

Before you could question her any further, Mingyu barged in through the door. If you thought seeing him in jeans and a t-shirt was weird, it was even stranger to see him in sweatpants. Like Ari said, he looked exhausted - even sick.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and you couldn’t tell if he meant it for you or his twins. “I didn’t mean to be late, and I fell asleep in my study-”

“Slow down-” You tried to interrupt his ramblings, but he ended up interrupting himself with a sneeze.

“Mingyu, are you alright?” You got up from your chair and approached him. At first, Mingyu was apprehensive to let you near him. However, he didn’t have the energy to get away from you and ended up even leaning into you when you put your palm against his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” you mumbled.

“I just have a small fever, I’m…” He let out a soft sigh as you repositioned your hand to cup his cheek. “That feels nice.”

The girls giggled behind you, reminding you that they were still there and that you should try to not make a scene to worry them. Despite how endearing Mingyu looked right now, you took your hand away from his face. He was stumbling even though he wasn’t moving, and you quickly got him to sit down in a chair.

“Why didn’t you let your parents pick them up?” You whispered to him. “You didn’t go to work like this, did you?”

“I did... they sent me home, so I worked in my home office,” he explained with a goofy grin. “It's a lot nicer to work from home. I don't have to dress up... but I didn't want to miss seeing you, so I didn't bother asking my parents.”

Your blood started pumping with irritation as he kept smiling. He was taking this way too lightly - this was his health he was talking about, and he was joking it away. Did he just not care?

“Kim Mingyu, you are so incredibly irresponsible,” you said, making his smile fade away. “You should be resting… Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’ll drive you home.” You sighed. “Is that okay with you?”

Mingyu handed you his keys, which you quickly accepted. This was definitely against some sort of work code, but you didn't care. These girls needed to get home safely, and Mingyu needed to rest as much as he could.

“Let’s go, girls,” you said. “I’m taking you home.”

You walked out with Mingyu leaning against you and the twins following close behind. Lucky for you, your coworkers were nowhere to be seen - probably because of the late hour. It went smoothly to get out of the building, and the parking lot was pretty much empty too. You remembered what Mingyu’s car looked like and found it with minimal guidance from the man beside you. After getting the girls into their respective seats and buckling their seat belts, you got into the driver's seat. Mingyu was sitting beside you, leaning his head against the headrest. Now that he could settle down and had his eyes closed, he looked peaceful. You still had his jacket from yesterday that you had tucked under your arm before walking out of the building. Mingyu was shivering despite you turning up the heat in the car, so you took the jacket and draped it over his chest. Looking back at the girls, you tried to look confident and not like you were worried sick about their dad.

“Are you ready to go home, girls?” You asked and they both nodded. Turning back to face the wheel, you took a deep breath before starting the car. You drove them to their home, following the GPS' orders carefully. Mingyu was asleep during the drive, and the girls sat in the backseat, whispering and giggling. When you got to the destination, you had to wake him up, shaking his shoulder gently while keeping your eyes on the road.

“Sorry to wake you,” you murmured. “Where am I supposed to park?”

“It's this house right there. Just park the car right in front of the garage... I'll fix it later,” he mumbled.

It was a big, modern house - probably newly built just a few years ago. Big floor-to-ceiling windows took up most of the otherwise white walls with dark wooden details. It was pretty much a box with a lot of interesting extensions, giving the whole house a very structured geometric feel. Shaking off the wonder you felt from just staring at the outside of the house, you parked and got out to help the girls. Mingyu went out shortly after you, still stumbling slightly as he walked towards the door.

“I’ll unlock the door,” he said with a yawn.

The inside of the home was well decorated and had dark wooden floors, matching the exterior details. There was a big living room area, which was connected to a patio. You could see back into the garden through the big glass sliding doors, quickly noticing a pool back there. The kitchen was also in the downstairs area. The cabinets were black, and the floor was lined with classic black and white tiles. Everything looked neatly put together, especially compared to your apartment. You helped the kids with their shoes and jackets, letting them run ahead after you were done. Mingyu took off his shoes by himself before slumping against the wall.

“You should go to bed,” you told him.

“Will you go with me?” He asked in a flirtatious tone.

“You’re getting on my nerves today…” You sighed and tried to bite back your smile. “I’ll put on the TV for the girls and help you to bed. Is that okay?”

Mingyu nodded, and you quickly went into the living room. The twins were already sitting on the couch, whispering between themselves.

“Do you girls want to watch something?”

“Yes, please!” They sounded in unison. You turned on the TV, after a few tries, and put on a show that the girls said they wanted to watch. They were sucked into it before you knew it, and you hurried over to Mingyu, who was still slumped against the wall.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you murmured. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Upstairs.” Mingyu’s bedroom was neat, but the bed was unmade. Everything was decorated in black, giving it a sleek look. Leaning against the headboard, you helped Mingyu get into bed and pull the covers over him. You sat down on the edge of the bed, watching him with worried eyes.

“Did you get sick yesterday?” You asked.

“I’ve been feeling a little under the weather for a while now,” he explained. “But I don’t think yesterday helped.”

“I’m sorry.” You took his hand in yours, bringing it to lay in your lap.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he said. “Thank you for taking me home… you were right. I was being irresponsible.” “Do you need anything else? I can make dinner for you and the girls.”

“That’d be very nice.” He nodded and closed his eyes. “I’ll help you. I just need to rest for a bit.”

“No, you won’t.” You sighed. “You’re going to rest up. I’ll bring food to you.”

“Thank you… please take care of the girls first. You can give me my food after putting them to bed- actually, I could get it myself. Just tell me when-”

“Mingyu,” you warned. “Let me take care of everything. I’ll put the girls to bed and get you food afterward, okay?”

“Okay…” Mingyu took a deep breath. “Their bedtime is eight o’clock sharp. Their room is down the hall to the right, in front of my office.”

“I’ll take care of it,” you promised and tucked him in a little better. “Rest well, okay?”

Mingyu let out a grunt for an answer as you got up to leave the room. Taking a final look at the sleeping Mingyu, you close the door behind you. The upstairs area wasn't as big as the downstairs area, but it was around the same size as your entire apartment. You looked around in awe, never having imagined that this was what Mingyu's home would look like. Despite having two kids, he kept everything clean - at least you thought so until you saw the kids' room. Toys were scattered here and there, but there was still enough space to walk around in the big room. There were two beds placed in separate corners of the room and a door to a closet in one of the corners. There was a window right in between the beds, allowing light to flow inside. The mess wasn't a big problem, just some stuff on the floor - it was easy enough for you to put away. You didn’t deep clean it, but you put away the toys where you thought they should be - a box with other toys in it put under the window. Once that was done, you explored further. You found the upstairs bathroom, where you noticed a toothbrush stand with three toothbrushes standing next to each other and one empty slot. After the bathroom, you found Mingyu's study, which you only took a glance at. This room was even messier than the girls' room. It was probably because he had left in a hurry before. Tissues were piling up in the trash, and papers were all over the dark wooden desk - as well as a few lying on the floor. The blinds were closed, leaving the room feeling closed off. You quickly left that room, not wanting to intrude any more than you already had. On your way to the staircase, you passed the upstairs bathroom and a room right in front of Mingyu's bedroom that you had somehow missed. The door was closed and even though you were curious, you decided to let it stay that way. When you got down the stairs, you found the girls still watching TV. Their attention went away from the screen as you came in to check on them.

“Are you feeling hungry?” you asked, and they both nodded. “Do you want to help me make some food?”

Making food with the girls was a fun experience. They were helpful when they were helping you find utensils or ingredients, but they still messed around a little. Whenever they had done something they shouldn’t have, like hiding the spices from you, they would let out a cute giggle. It would always give them away, but you still played along with them. After making dinner and tucking Jiu and Ari into bed, you got a plate of the leftovers and brought it up to Mingyu's room. The room was still dark, and he was still lying in bed in the same position you had left him in. Maybe he had shifted around a bit because his hair was a bit messier than before, but except for that hint, you couldn't tell. You sat down beside him and put your hand on his arm.

“I have some food for you,” you murmured. “And water.” Mingyu opened his eyes ever so slightly, shifting in the bed to bring his hands up to his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes. When he was done, he sat up, leaning his back against the headboard.

“You’re too nice to me,” he muttered in a raspy, sleep-laced voice.

“You would’ve done the same to me.” You handed him the glass of water. “Drink.”

You put the plate of food on his bedside table while he drank. A nervous feeling started spreading in your chest, suddenly realizing the position you were in. To combat these unfamiliar emotions, you got up and started closing the blinds.

“I put the girls to bed,” you said as you worked on closing the blinds. “They weren't very happy to go to sleep when you hadn't kissed them goodnight yet.”

“They get antsy if we don't follow the routine.” He chuckled. “Could you hand me the plate?”

After picking the plate back up, you sat down next to you. Without thinking, you took the spoon to feed him, like you used to do with the stubborn kids at the kindergarten you worked at before. Mingyu looked a little shocked but accepted the spoon by opening his mouth. Only after he had taken the bite did you realize what you had done.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” You felt heat rise to your face. “I didn’t mean to be patronizing- it’s an old habit from my last job-” Mingyu’s laugh stopped your rambling. You attempted to give him the plate, but he pushed it away. He couldn't get a word out, still trying to chew through the fit of giggles. His hand was over his mouth as he looked away from you. If he were to look into your lost puppy dog's eyes, he would start laughing again.

“It’s alright,” he said eventually. “I don’t mind being pampered… especially not by you.”

Your eyebrows shot up over your forehead. Mingyu motioned for you to come a bit closer, and you shuffled a few inches closer to him. He looked expectantly at the plate and then back at you. With a slightly shaky hand, you brought another spoon of food to his mouth, which he gladly accepted. Seeing him genuinely happy over this made you a bit more comfortable. You shuffled even closer to him, sitting down in a better position to feed him. It felt strange, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his happy expressions.

“Your cooking is good,” he mumbled between bites.

“It’s just something I threw together.” You brushed off his compliment. “It’s nothing special.”

“Thank you anyway,” he said before taking the last bite. After putting away the plate on the bedside table, you went to get up, but Mingyu grabbed your hand before you could leave. He peered up at you through his eyelashes, and you could’ve melted at the sight. Gently, he pulled you back towards him, and you sat down without any resistance. He let go of your hand and put his hand on your thigh.

“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble for you today,” he said. “It’s alright,” you hummed. “I wanted to help… and cooking with the kids was nice.”

“Well, I’m happy you could enjoy yourself.” He had a look in his eyes that you couldn’t figure out, but it was warm and loving. You wanted to know what he was thinking - what he thought of you. Suddenly you started hearing giggling from behind you. When you turned around, you saw two black-haired heads peeking out from the side of the doorframe. Your body was in the way for Mingyu to see them, but his daughters were grinning widely at the sight of the two of you. Even though he couldn’t see them, Mingyu understood that they were there from your reaction and the sound of their laughter.

“Girls, it’s bedtime!” Mingyu dictated with a stern yet kind tone of voice.

“But we didn’t get to say goodnight to you,” Ari argued. The girls ran inside the room and crawled up on the bed. You were about to get up to give them space when you noticed that Mingyu's hand hadn't moved from your leg. He squeezed it gently, and when your eyes met his, it looked like he was silently asking you to stay. So you sat there with them, watching as Mingyu spoke with his daughters and apologized for not saying goodnight earlier.

“I’m a little sick, so I had to rest,” he explained to the girls. “I’m sorry I missed your bedtime.”

“Are you better now?” Jiu asked.

“Did Ms. Y/L/N make you better?” Ari added.

“He's doing a lot better than he was before,” you said as you glanced between the man in front of you and his daughters. “But my expert opinion says that he still needs a full night's rest.”

“You can't kiss it better?” Ari asked, giggling with her sister.

“Yeah, you can't kiss it better?” Mingyu asked in a mocking tone, gently squeezing your leg again. You put your hand on top of his and put it down beside you again without looking over at him. Even if he was able to be very mature most of the time, he tended to bring out his childish side from time to time. As you took his hand away from your leg, he almost looked like he regretted saying it.

“A good night's rest is all he needs, I promise you,” you assured the twins, “And you two should also go back to bed.”

After a bit of complaining, they said goodnight to their dad and scurried back to their room. You looked after them until they had closed the bedroom door behind them. Mingyu’s hand snuck back to its place on your thigh.

“I’ll go check that they’re sleeping before I leave,” you said.

“You’re leaving?” He sounded surprised. His grimace after saying it made it clear that he didn’t mean for it to come out like that.

“Mingyu, I couldn’t possibly intrude any longer-”

“You’re not intruding,” Mingyu remarked. “I have a guest room, and you can borrow some clothes from me- you can take a shower if you want to, too. Just… I don’t want you to leave all on your own this late at night.”

He seemed so determined, and how could you give up on such an offer? His hand squeezed your leg again, a kind gesture that asked you to stay. You thought back to all the time you had spent together in the cabins. It had been so long that you seemed to have forgotten that you knew him quite well for just being his children's teacher. You took his hand in yours again, looking down at it to try to distract yourself from his strong gaze.

“I’m sorry for leaving before,” you mumbled. “At the cabins… it was so wrong of me, I’m sorry.” Mingyu turned his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. You looked at him with a shy smile. For some reason, you had thought of your second meeting as a new beginning - but you can't just erase memories with another person to start over. The fact that you ever thought that felt deranged now.

“And I’m sorry for being a mess,” you continued when Mingyu hadn’t said anything for a while. “And for acting like nothing had happened when we finally met again-”

“Y/N,” he interrupted. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have pursued you again if I didn’t accept all that. I like you, and I know you’ve been through something horrible. I can be patient with you. I want to be someone you can lean on… even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

You let out a stifled laugh and looked down at your intertwined hands. It felt nice to finally let your walls down a bit like you could finally let go of some of the tension you had been holding in your shoulders. Mingyu squeezed your hand, getting your attention back on him.

“I'm not going to ask you to sleep in my bed with me because, frankly, that'd be very stupid considering that I'm sick,” he said, making you laugh again. “But I just want to make sure that you don't have to go home alone and that you're safe.”

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you hummed. “Thank you.”

After taking a shower and changing into clothes that Mingyu let you borrow, you went straight to bed. It almost felt like a hotel bed, and the cozy feeling made you fall asleep immediately.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ The next morning you woke up to your alarm ringing an hour before you had to leave the door. Hearing sounds coming from downstairs, you quickly got up and went to see what was going on. The clanging came from the kitchen. You hadn’t made a plan for what would happen in the morning, and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had accidentally left the kids unattended. However, when you arrived in the kitchen, you found Mingyu making breakfast and the girls tiredly waiting at the table. The noise was coming from the stove as he was cooking something that smelled delicious.

“Why are you up? Shouldn't you still be resting?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even process them.

“Good morning to you too, doctor,” Mingyu said with a raspy voice and handed you a newly brewed cup of coffee. “You'll be happy to hear that my symptoms have-”

You pressed your hand against his forehead again, interrupting whatever he was going to joke about, his fever had gone down, and he looked a lot better than the day before. Mingyu took your hand away from his forehead.

“My symptoms have died down,” he repeated. “Just a runny nose and sore throat. What do you think? Am I too sick to make breakfast?” His eyes were glimmering in the low light of the kitchen lamp, and that warm smile never left his lips. If it weren't for the fact that he was sick, you would've kissed that smile off his face.

“No…” You sighed. “I overreacted, I’m sorry-”

“You didn’t,” he assured you. “It’s nice to have someone care for me like you do.”

Mingyu's arm sneakily wrapped itself around your waist and brought you closer. He leaned his forehead against yours, still looking into your eyes. You did your best to not spill anything out of your cup, but it was getting increasingly hard since you were starting to be distracted. You peered over your shoulder, noticing that the two of you had started getting the attention of the twins.

“Could we save this for another day?” you asked and put a hand on his chest. “Maybe when we're not being watched?”

Mingyu looked up, immediately locking eyes with Ari and Jiu, who were standing on top of their chairs to see. His face twisted from worry to irritation, and you could hear more laughter coming from the table. At the sound of the bell-like giggles, Mingyu had trouble holding his scolding gaze and not replacing it with a warm smile.

“Hey! Sit down in the chairs, or you'll fall over!” Mingyu said and let go of you to bring the girls their breakfast. You watched him walk away, chuckling at his attempt to scold them. As he warned the girls of the dangers of standing up on chairs, he was placing their breakfasts in front of them and making sure that they’d start eating. Mingyu was still grumbling when he came back, but when you walked up next to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he quickly quieted down. He looked at you with big eyes, doing mental loops to try to figure out what he had done to deserve it.

“Thank you for the coffee,” you said. “I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Let me drive you,” he blurted out. “I need to take my girls there anyway.”

“If you feel fine, then I don’t see why not.”

“Oh, I’m feeling more than fine.” Mingyu leaned closer to you, but you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“I don’t want to get sick,” you teased. “Besides, I’ve already given you a kiss.”

“I need another one to get all better.” He pouted.

“All you need is one,” you responded. “Doctor’s orders!” You watched his jaw go slack, tonguing his cheek as you started walking away.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ Arriving in yesterday’s clothes, wearing whatever make-up you had with you in your bag, caused suspicion. Not only that, you had walked in just a little bit before Kim Mingyu - a hot, single dad. Many of your coworkers didn’t notice or care, but your closest coworker Joshua definitely noticed. He was what some people would call your work husband, and usually, you’d tell him everything while you were welcoming your kids in your separate classrooms.

“Did you have fun last night?” He asked.

“My night was just fine, Mr. Hong,” you responded. Most of the time, the two of you would gossip loudly with each other - but you couldn’t yell about staying over at Kim Mingyu’s house. Especially not with so many kids around - his kids included. When all of the kids were in your respective classrooms, Joshua got a little closer.

“I saw you walking in here with Mr. Kim. What’s that about?” He whispered. “And I’ve never seen you in the same clothes two days in a row, so you have to tell me everything about last night.”

“I will…” You paused to let him celebrate getting your new gossip. “... At lunch.”

“You’re no fun.” Joshua sighed, making you laugh.

At the anticipated lunch, you sat down in the teacher’s lounge with Joshua in a corner of the room. The two of you sat in mostly silence, except for a few comments about your day so far or what you were going to do later while waiting for as many people as possible to leave. When it was just a few people in the room, Joshua turned to you with an expectant look in his eyes.

“Tell me everything,” he said.

“It was nothing.” You put down your cup of coffee. “He came in sick, and I helped drive him home…” Joshua raised one of his eyebrows, silently urging you to keep talking. “And I might have stayed the night at his house…” You sighed.

“How?” he questioned. “I mean, if that’d happen to anyone else, they wouldn’t let them stay in their house.”

“I might’ve known him since before I started this job…” You dragged out each word as if it’d help contain your secret a little longer. Your coworker stared at you with his jaw on the floor. He put away his lunch and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You have a lot of things to tell me,” Joshua asserted. “

Well, you know about my ex,” you said, and he nodded. “While trying to get over him, I stayed at my aunt’s cottage in the forest.”

“Yeah, you’ve said this.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “You stayed there for two weeks and came back to get your shit together. Am I missing something?”

“I didn’t tell you about my neighbor…” As soon as you said it, Joshua’s eyes widened. “The reason I decided to ‘get my shit together’ in the first place is because of him.”

“Mr. Kim?”

“Yes. He was there for me, and we developed some kind of relationship… but then I left without giving him my number or even saying goodbye.” You looked down at your lap. “I didn’t want to get hurt again.”

“Y/N…” Joshua put his hand on the table for you to take, which you did. “I’m sorry for prying about this, and you don’t have to continue.”

“It’s okay… I actually need your advice,” you said, and he nodded. “We met again when he picked up his kids- I didn’t even know he had kids, but it’s fine now. Now we’ve been seeing each other from time to time, trying to sort of pick up where we left it.”

“Oh my god.” Joshua leaned back in his chair again, letting go of your hand in the process. “You’re living in a rom-com.”

“Stop.” You chuckled. “Anyway, I care about him… but I don’t know where to go from here.”

“So you’ve been on dates?”

“We went on a date a few weeks ago, and then we ended up meeting in the park last Sunday,” you explained.

“And you’ve…?” Your silence spoke for itself, and Joshua cheered. He’d been on your ass to get back in the dating scene since you had told him about your ex. “You just need to get laid” was a daily comment you’d receive from him. “How is he?”

“Joshua.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll drop it.” He paused and studied your expression for a few seconds. “He’s good, isn’t he?”

“I almost forgot my own name,” you whispered with your hand covering the side of your mouth, shielding your words from any potential listeners.

“Alright, alright.” He nodded proudly. “So you guys are getting serious?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, well, I’m happy for you,” he hummed. “He seems like a nice man, someone that you can grow with.” Joshua put his elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. His otherwise silly and easy-going expression changed into a more serious look.

“Do his kids know?” He asked. “They’re suspecting it, but I don’t think they understand it.” You sighed. “I know, it’d be weird for them…”

“Not just them,” he reminded you. “If any of the other kids find out - let alone their parents - it could get very complicated, you know?”

“I know.”

“I’m not telling you to stop seeing him. You deserve to be happy.” He sighed. “But sadly, you have to be careful with it. You never know what might happen when others find out, and they will. More importantly, if it doesn’t work out, it can be hard on the kids.”

You took a deep breath as his words settled in your head. You hadn’t even considered what would happen if you ended up breaking up. Joshua’s words would stick with you through the rest of your much lighter conversation, and for the rest of the day, it would chafe in the back of your mind. For the rest of the week, you barely talked to Mingyu. Partly because he was busy getting over his cold and then catching up at work, but also because you were ignoring him. Sometimes you’d see his call and let it go to voicemail. You texted from time to time and let your excuse for not talking to him be the preparations for the play on Friday.

A part of you still thought that he might show up to the play, for the girls' sake, of course, even if it was naive of you to think. You didn’t even see Mingyu at pick-up. With the amount of work he had to catch up on, he didn’t have time. His parents would pick up the kids instead. Friday, the day of the play, was spent making preparations for the afternoon - when all of the parents would come to see their kids perform. It wasn't anything particularly well-made, it was made by kids, after all - but the work that the kids had put in truly made you proud. The morning of the play, you asked Jiu and Ari if they knew if their dad would come after all. They had confirmed your fears of him most likely not coming at all. Despite them putting up a brave front, you could tell it made them very disappointed. You sat down with them backstage to make sure that they were okay.

“Why don’t I act as your grown-up for today?” You suggested. “Then you’ll still have someone watching you.”

“It’s not the same,” Ari said.

“You’re a teacher. You have to watch all the kids,” Jiu added.

“I’ll tell you what.” You looked around before shuffling a little closer to them. “If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll promise to pay extra attention to you two.”

It seemed to cheer them up. they even made you pinky-swear on it. However, you knew it wasn't as good as having their actual parent there - so you were determined to make Mingyu at least see the few last minutes. When everyone was in their costumes and had prepared for the play to start, you took your seat right by the stage. You saved a chair next to you, putting up a fake "reserved chair" sign on the seat. Before the play started, even before the parents had started coming in, you pulled out your phone and called Mingyu. As the phone was ringing, the nervous feeling in your chest started growing.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He sounded tired.

“Hi… um…” You took a deep breath. “I know that you’re busy, and the play starts in twenty minutes, but the twins… They really want you here. I tried cheering them up, but I don’t think it worked.” You heard him sigh and shuffle around. The sound of papers and other office supplies getting moved around could be heard over the phone. A door opened, and you heard mumbling.

“Cancel my next meeting, please,” Mingyu said with the phone held away from his face. “I have to go see my daughters’ play.” You heard more talking from the other person and a door closing.

“I’ll be there,” he said. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, honey.” The nickname just slipped out. You hardly noticed it. “I’ve saved you a seat at the front.”

“You got me front-row seats? Wow, you really know how to spoil a guy.” Mingyu naturally fell into his flirty tone. Joshua sat down beside you on the chair that you hadn’t put a piece of paper with “RESERVED” written on it. With the sudden interruption, you couldn’t bring yourself to answer with the same flirty tone. You could hear Mingyu walking into the elevator on the other side of the line.

“Just be here, Mr. Kim…” you murmured.

“Mr. Kim!?” Joshua whisper-yelled, hearing you despite your attempt to hide it. Joshua leaned in closer to try to listen in on the conversation, and no matter how far you leaned away from him, you couldn’t get away.

“Mr. Kim?” Mingyu questioned. “No more ‘honey’? Have I done something wrong?”

“I have to go…”

“Y/N.” He sighed. “I know something’s wrong. You haven’t talked to me all week.”

“It’s nothing, Mingyu,” you hummed.

“But it is,” he argued. “Listen, we’ll talk later… I’m glad you called, sweetheart.” The two of you said goodbye, and you hung up. You don’t dare look at Joshua, but you can feel his gaze burning a hole in your skin.

“He calls you sweetheart?” He whispers.

“Joshua,” you warned.

“You guys are cute…” he mumbled. “Is everything okay, though? You’re okay, right?”

“... I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

“Y/N, no…” he whined.

“You’re the one who told me to be careful!” you exclaimed.

“I told you to be careful, not to ignore the poor guy!”

“Keep it down!” You hissed. You knew that if people found out that you used to sleep with one of the parents of the children you educated, suspicions of special treatment would arise even if they had no real claim.

“Seriously, Y/N. You should go for it with him. He seems good for you,” Joshua said. The parents started coming in before you could say something in response. His words stuck with you yet again, and you were struck with the realization that you had been a paranoid jerk. Your eyes were completely focused on the door, smiling at the occasional parent you would make eye contact with, but your main goal was to see Mingyu walking through that door. All the parents had settled down and were talking amongst themselves.

Fifteen minutes felt like hours, and you were still impatiently looking back to the door now and then. The lights dimmed. Mingyu still wasn't there. A teacher came out on stage to present the play. Mingyu still wasn't there. The parents clapped after the teacher's short speech, and as he walked off the stage and the music started, Mingyu came through the door. You happily waved to him, and he sprinted toward his seat just as Ari and Jiu walked out on stage. He gave them two thumbs up and a supportive smile before sitting down.

“Thank you,” Mingyu whispered in your ear. You wanted to thank him, too, for coming despite all the trouble, but the kids had already started speaking.

At the end of the play, you stand by the door and watch all of the families walk out - praising the kids and thanking the parents for coming. Mingyu is still in his seat, happily talking to Jiu and Ari. You glance over at him from time to time, a big clump of worry stuck in your throat. You had ignored him for days. Would he still want to stick around? All you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and tell him how much you cared for him, but you couldn’t. As the last family left, Mingyu started walking towards you. Joshua, who was standing on the other side of the door, gave you a thumbs-up before leaving. Mingyu walks up to you, his face somewhat colder than it usually is.

“We have to talk later.”

“I know.”

“I’m dropping the kids off at their grandparents’ house,” he said. “Could we meet up after?” “Sure. You can come by my apartment whenever you have time.” You clasped your sweaty hands together behind your back.

“I’ll text you,” he hummed. The small family walked away, the twins happily saying goodbye to you before running to the parking lot - blissfully unaware of the strangling feeling of guilt in you.

After pacing around your apartment for at least ten minutes, you got a text from Mingyu saying that he was on his way. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. In less than an hour, this could all be over. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down your racing heart. Every moment of your time with Mingyu flashed before your eyes. He could irritate you and make you worry, but in the end, you were the happiest you had ever been when you were with him. Even in the beginning of your relationship with Wonwoo, you hadn’t felt this way. If fate existed, this was it. You loved him, and you had realized it far too late. What anyone else thought didn’t matter. You wanted to be with him. A deep blue wave washed over you, your entire body going slack as you took another deep breath - this time, it reached into the deepest corners of your lungs. You felt refreshed as if simply admitting to yourself that you truly did love him had made you a new person. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him… the words echoed in your mind. Nothing had ever been so clear to you.

When your doorbell buzzed, Mingyu’s voice sounded over the intercom, asking if you could let him in, and you did so without hesitation. The few minutes it took for him to finally come upstairs were hell for you. You were waiting right by the door, expecting his knock at any moment now. His knuckles only met the wooden door once before you ripped the door open. Meeting his shocked gaze brought back the clump in your throat. He looked tired - hurt even. You had done this to him, and you’d do anything to fix it.

“Come in.” You stepped to the side and let him inside.

Mingyu walked inside, took off his shoes, and followed you into the kitchen. You were quiet and in desperate need to distract yourself with something. Looking back at him in the bright kitchen light, you could see the bags under his eyes more clearly now.

“Do you want coffee?” you asked.

“I just want you,” he rasped.

His arms hung by his side, his entire body standing completely still. You looked down at your feet, trying to stop yourself from crying - and if you couldn’t, you at least wanted to make sure that he didn’t see you cry.

“Are you sure?” you questioned. “I’ve been… I haven’t been very good to you, Mingyu.” Mingyu took a step forward, now standing right in front of you. One of his hands grabbed yours while the other lifted your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m sure.”

“What if I’m not good enough for you?”

“You’re more than enough for me,” he assured you. “I just… adore you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” You brought your hand up to his cheek, cupping it in your palm and letting your thumb run over his cheekbone. Bringing your other hand to the back of his head, you pull him in closer for a kiss. As your lips met, Mingyu put his arm around your waist to pull you closer to his body. Fireworks exploded in your stomach as if it were the first time all over again. The kiss didn’t last long, your lips parting with a soft sigh rolling off your tongue. Your eyes stayed closed for a moment, still feeling the ghost of Mingyu’s plush lips against your own. When your eyes opened, you saw Mingyu looking right back at you.

“Please, never scare me like that again.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “When you stopped calling, I thought I had done something to upset you.”

“No, not at all,” you murmured. “I was… scared. I wasn’t sure of what to do next. You and I were doing well, but… what about your kids? If this ends, what will happen to them?”

“This won’t end.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Mingyu put his hand over yours, which was still holding his face, and turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm.

“I’m in love with you,” he mumbled against your skin before turning back to look at you. “I haven’t felt like this in a very long time. I’ve been on many dates since my wife died, trying to pick up the pieces, but it always felt like something was missing. When I met you for the first time, I felt like you were the missing piece… and when I found you again, it felt like fate had given me a second chance. So, I don’t care about what your coworkers think when they see us walking the kids to school together. I don’t care what other parents would whisper about if they saw me kissing the teacher before the parent-teacher meeting. And I definitely don’t care about who you used to be with - even if we go to the same meetings.”

You let out a soft chuckle at his words, your hands falling to his shoulders. Even if he was joking, his words comforted you - so did his gentle hands on your waist. Your shoulders relaxed, and no more tears were threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

“Are we clear?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded, giving him a big smile.

“Good.” He pulled you in a little closer. “... can I kiss you again?”

“Please do.” Your whisper was almost inaudible. You barely got the words out before his lips were on yours again. The warmth from his hands on your waist burned through your clothes, leaving your skin tingling. His hands moved slowly around your body as if he desperately needed it to last as long as it could. Your chest was pressed against his now, your arms lying on his shoulders and your hands in his hair. His long, romantic kiss turned into short, sweet pecks along the corner of your mouth and down to your jaw.

“Gyu-” You tried to interrupt him, but it was useless.

Mingyu continued his attack on the rest of your face, giddily kissing whatever surface of your face he could reach. Laughter, like silver bells, echoed in your small kitchen, a place that’s been previously filled with anxious mumbles about the man who was now in front of you. He paused, looking into your eyes, giving you a smile that you recognized easily as his mischievous and flirty grin. He bent down slightly, gripping the backs of your thighs as he muttered, “Jump”. You did as he said, wrapping your legs around him as he lifted you up - you put your head in the crook of his neck. Without worrying about it, you let him carry you over to wherever he wanted to take you. The woody scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you tried to bury your nose deeper into the soft skin of his neck - Mingyu let out a chuckle at the tickling feeling.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you all to myself ever since I made you breakfast last Monday,” he admitted.

“You have me now,” you murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You lifted up your head from his neck, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “Bedroom?”

Mingyu grinned, taking long steps toward your bedroom door. Before you knew it, he had thrown you on the bed - crawling over to you to finish what he had started. The two of you had been there for what felt like hours. Mingyu’s movements were soft and slow, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy. You were delirious, wanton moans escaping your lips every other second. Mingyu’s mouth was latched onto your chest, sucking dark marks on your skin. His body was pressed against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him there.

“I’ve missed this…” Mingyu groaned. “I’ve missed you.”

“Gyu…” you whimpered. “Please, just a little faster.” For all this time, Mingyu had kept the pace slow - his excuse was that he needed to take his time with you, which you accepted… for a while. Now, you were suffering - simultaneously overstimulated and not stimulated enough.

“Why won’t you let me take my time?” He pouted.

“I have,” you answered. “I need to cum, Gyu, please- I want you to cum inside me.” Mingyu swore under his breath, his hips stuttering at your words. When he was distracted, you managed to flip the two of you over. Being on top gave you control of the pace, and, despite your burning thighs, you immediately started bouncing on his cock.

“Sweetheart-” He gasped. While the pace had been kept slow earlier, the overstimulation made you sensitive enough to feel your orgasm approaching already from the sudden change of pace. Mingyu felt the same, evident by his stuttering hips and loud whines.

“Cum inside me, Gyu,” you urged him again.

“You’re going to be the death of me…” Mingyu soughed. Mingyu grabbed your hips to thrust up into you. Your head lulled to the side, your limbs growing limp, as a wave of pleasure spread from your core to the rest of your body. His hands gripped your sides harshly, bruising the skin, and kept you pressed against his pelvis as he came inside you. You could hear him say something, but you were lost in your paradise. As you were about to slump over him, Mingyu handled you carefully to lay down on his chest - putting his hands on your back and rubbing patterns into your skin.

“Are you feeling okay, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, and you hummed in response. “Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

“No, it’s okay,” you murmured. “Just stay here with me.”

“We should clean up,” he said, and you whined at the thought of having to move. “I’m serious. And you should go to the bathroom.”

“Stop being so responsible…” you groaned.

“Can’t help it.” He sat up, bringing you with him. “I like taking care of you.” Mingyu stood up with much effort, making sure that your legs were wrapped around his waist. He carried you over to the bathroom, despite your constant whining. After cleaning himself up, he left you to your privacy - but not long after, you walked out of the bathroom again to go back to bed. Mingyu was already there, waiting for you under the covers. He pulled the covers to the side, making it easier for you to get in. As he wrapped the covers around you, you snuggled up against his chest. His skin against yours felt like heaven, and you got as close to him as you possibly could.

“Gyu?” You murmured.

“Yes, darling?” He answered with a playful tone.

“Thank you.” Your words floated in the air. Mingyu stayed quiet but wrapped his arms around you a little tighter. He pressed a kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering there. Your hands went to his back, feeling his muscles under your fingertips - smooth skin, but you could feel knots there, probably caused by stress. You could picture yourself helping him massage out those knots, him laying with his stomach on his bed, you straddling him and gently moving your hands over his back. The fact that you could picture flashes of your future together felt promising. You felt safe in these daydreams.

“For staying,” you added.

“I know,” Mingyu murmured against the top of your head.

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“That if I ever start doubting us again,” you said, “you'll tell me off like you did today.” Mingyu’s chest rumbled with a laugh, and you broke out in a small chuckle at his response.

“I promise,” he said. “Is the sex afterwards included?” You hit his chest with your palm, just lightly, and hid your flustered face against him. Mingyu only kept laughing, clearly enjoying your embarrassed state.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ A year later, you’re teaching your last class of the day when the bell rings. The students pack up their things as you remind them of next week’s homework. Soon enough, you’ve picked up your things and are walking down the hallway to Mr. Hong’s classroom. The doors opened, and the many kids ran past you to get out to the courtyard where they could meet their caretakers - Fridays were always hectic. You spotted Joshua in the classroom, and he gave you a smile and a wave.

“Are they here?” you asked as you walked inside.

“We’re here!” the twins shout happily. “They did exceptionally well today!” Joshua praised. “Ari’s figured out multiplications, and Jiu’s reading gets better every day.”

“I’m glad to see the two of you working so hard, even when you’re not in my class anymore!” you told the girls before turning back to Joshua. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Hong.”

“Mhm, have fun playing newlyweds with your man,” he teased and went back to a few papers on his desk.

“We’re not even…” You sighed and turned your attention to the girls. “Ready to go home? Pick up your things, let’s go meet your dad!”

Jiu and Ari were running ahead of you as soon as they saw their dad. Mingyu was standing by the gate, talking to another parent who was also picking up their kid. You recognized them from your parent-teacher meeting last year. As soon as Mingyu heard the happy shouts of his daughters, he excused himself from the other parent and crouched down with open arms. The girls ran into his arms, almost making him stumble back in the process. You caught up to them just a few seconds later, giving the other parent a nod before they walked away to their kid.

“How are my princesses doing?” Mingyu asked and kissed their foreheads.

“Good! I finished another book!” Jiu grinned.

“And Mr. Hong said I was good at multiplication!” Ari added.

He congratulated them both before standing up to take a look at you. His smile widened, and he opened his arms for a second time. You walked into his embrace, giving him a short hug. However, as you tried to pull away, he held you a little bit tighter.

“Mingyu, people are staring,” you whispered.

“Let them,” he whispered back. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” You finally managed to pull away, but Mingyu’s hands lingered on your waist - you let them stay there, knowing that he would only start pouting if you tried pulling them off.

“You saw me this morning,” you reminded him.

“For way too short of a time,” he added.

“Darling, you almost made us late.”

“Details…” Mingyu scoffed and turned his head away from you. When he glanced at you through the corner of his eyes, he got to see your bright smile. Proud of his achievement, he grinned as he turned his face toward you again. Before you could tell him to go get the girls’ names crossed off the list, he stole a kiss from you.

“Gyu-”

“Go tell the teacher that I’ve picked the girls up, I know.” His smile was contagious. “Just needed to tell you that you look beautiful today, Mrs. Kim.”

“I’m not Mrs. Kim yet,” you remind him.

“You’ve been Mrs. Kim in my mind for a while now, sweetheart,” he argued. “Besides, you’re about to put the last of your furniture in our house, and my kids call you mom. The papers are nothing but a formality at this point.”

“Fair enough,” you murmured. He took your left hand in his, his thumb grazing over the ring on your ring finger. His hand lingered on yours as he walked to get the pick-up finalized, only letting go when his arms couldn’t stretch any further. The girls followed after him as he walked up to the teacher with the name list, standing in the middle of the courtyard. As soon as it was done, Mingyu grabbed the girls’ hands and led them back to you.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, unaware of the fact that you were already home as soon as you had seen him. You nodded, taking the lead toward the gate. Mingyu was still holding the girls’ hands, so you opened the gate for them and watched them walk out. A few kids said goodbye to you, and you took some time to wish them a good weekend. When you turned back to your small family, they had already gotten to the car. He had parked close to the school, so it wasn’t very far, and you quickly jogged up to them. Mingyu had managed to get the girls into the car seats by himself, closing the car doors just as you arrived.

“You’re always so busy,” Mingyu joked.

“Says you,” you countered and went to fix his crooked tie. “You took the weekend off, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. “Ready to serve.”

“It’s just invitations, Gyu.”

“You say that now…” Mingyu opened the car door for you, putting his hand on the edge of the entrance to make sure you didn’t hit your head. When you had sat down, he carefully closed the door behind you and walked around to the other side of the car.

“You’re the one who agreed to help me,” you argued.

“And I won’t complain,” Mingyu said as he sat down in the driver’s seat. “Promise.”

You looked over at him as he buckled his seatbelt. His tedious behavior was enough to make you frown at him. Mingyu looked at you as he started the car. He gave you a charming smile - a classic Kim Mingyu distraction. It worked, as it always did. You sighed and turned back to the girls.

“Are you two okay back there?” you asked, and the two of them nodded before going back to their whispering. As Mingyu backed out of the parking space, you turned to sit normally in your seat. Mingyu put his hand on your leg as soon as the car was on the road. The warmth from his palm radiated through your clothes. You put your hand on top of his.

“I don’t think making invitations will be very fun,” he said, “but I’ll enjoy spending time with you.”

“Just don’t try to distract me,” you warned as you intertwined your fingers with his.

“No promises.” He looked over at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. You scoffed and looked out the window. Your hand was still holding his - he brought the back of your hand to his lips, leaving a chaste kiss there. A smile crept up on your lips as Mingyu put your hand back down.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I love you too.”

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helen-with-an-a · 17 days

Text

Out of Position

Hi. So, I'm not really sure I like this but hey-ho. I'm trying to write my masters dissertation so fics may be few and far between loll but I wanted to write something. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Lucy Bronze x reader

Description: R has to play out of position for Barça

Word Count: 1.5k

The season had been … tough, to say the least.

The start of the season was great, you were playing your favourite 6 or 8 positions. You were happy there – you were racking up assists, you had your name on score sheets more regularly. Things were really looking good for you. You were in the Starting XI regularly, slowly increasing the minutes to full matches every week. Your national team coaches had noticed your efforts to, soon earning that number 8 shirt at international level. Things were looking really, really good.

And then Mapi got injured. That was a blow to the team, no doubt. Her infectious energy was sorely missed during trainings, her technical prowess and defensive knowhow that were so integral to the team was difficult to replicate. But everyone was managing incredibly well. Slowly but surely, you were being played further away from where you were comfortable. And then Alexia was out again too. Another massive knock. Not just for the team, seeing the Captain out of commission was hard on everyone, but for you in particular. You were slowly being played further back on the pitch than you were entirely comfortable with. You weren’t a defender. You did your part, when necessary, but you weren’t a defender. You were never fully happy making those harsh tackles and committing essential fouls. Your main form of defence came from interceptions – your speed was something to be noted by all commentators. You were always the first onto a wayward ball. It was something you prided yourself on. It was something the whole team prided themselves on, none-so more than Lucy.

You didn’t know how it happened really, but by the away El Clásico, your picture was being displayed on screen in the no. 5 position. Who would have thought you would end up playing against Real Madrid as a centre-back? Especially when considering you started the season as an attacking midfield and borderline striker?

“I can’t do this.” You were full on panicking in the changing rooms. Your hands were gripping the bench so tightly your knuckles were turning white; your wide frantic eyes flittered nervously around the room; your skin was cold and clammy, your breathing erratic. You were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Sí, puedes, chica.” Patri soothed, running her hand in wide comforting circles along the length of your back. You had been fine during training, and most of the warmup but you had seen Moller Hansen give you, what you interpreted to be, a menacing glare, and something had snapped in you. “Amiga, you need to breathe” Patri reminded you, exaggerating her own breathing to try and prompt yours. It wasn’t working. Marta and Irene were with you, both looking on with some concern. “Ves a buscar la Lucy.” Patri ordered one of them, not taking her eyes off you. You had moved one hand from the bench to your thigh, your nails pressing harshly into the muscles, dragging unforgiving lines up and down.

Not 30 seconds after the door swung shut behind Marta, a very concerned Lucy appeared by your side, worry etched on her face.

“Can’t … do it,” you struggled to get the words out. Lucy’s heart shattered at your words. She had seen the hours you had put in, the number of dates you had rain checked to stay late with the defensive coaches, the frequent mornings when she had woken up, alone with your side of the bed cold with a note on your pillow telling her that coffee was in the machine, she just needed to press start and that you’d see her at training. If she didn’t know where you were, she would be concerned you were cheating on her. But no, you were in the gym at the crack of dawn, strengthening your muscles and pushing yourself to go beyond your previous limits. She was exhausted just looking at the work you were doing. But it wasn’t in vain. You looked so natural in the back line; anyone that didn’t know you would think you were comfortable. But no one saw these moments and sheer and raw terror that coursed through your veins moments before you stepped out of the changing rooms.

“You can, pretty girl. I promise you; you can do it.” Lucy said, gently crushing you to her chest. She was sad to admit that this was a common occurrence.

“Scared,” you croaked out. “let the team down.”

“No, my love, you will never let us down. I promise. You can never, ever let anyone down.” She cooed, her fingers dipping under your shirt to run her nails over your bare back. She pulled back after a few moments, waiting until your breathing evened out a little bit – her comforting smell washing over you and soothing your body more than any words could do. She cupped your face, gently running her thumb across your cheek. “I love you, so, so much. There are 10 other girls on that pitch, all of them believe in you. You wouldn’t be out there if the club didn’t think you could do this.” She said her words with such conviction. You took a deep breath and nodded – not believing her words, but the noise outside the changing room was growing louder, signalling that both teams were ready to go. You were still incredibly nervous, but you did have a job to do after all. You both left the changing room hand-in-hand, taking your customary places at the back of the line.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” She whispered in your ear as she caught you staring off into the distance. You turned to look at her, a slightly guilty look on your face as your bite your lip harshly. “I love you,” she said emphatically.

“I love you,” you said softly back, not as nervous as you were before, but definitely not good.

It was a tough match. Real Madrid had really stepped up their game since the last time you were out. It was a 1 – 1 all draw that was growing more precarious every minute. You had just 10 minutes left of the match and both sides were determined to break the stalemate.

Madrid were on the attack, having been able to pick out weaknesses in Barça’s defence. Lucy had drifted too far from her position, letting Carmona utilise the space by making a speedy break for it. You were the furthest back in your team’s line up. Your muscles were aching, your face was red with effort, yet you had to win this ball back. You couldn’t let Cata take on Carmona and Caicedo all by herself. You ran. Hell, you practically flew down that flank, pushing yourself harder and faster than you ideally wanted to.

You knew exactly what Olga was going to do before she did it. Maybe it was your experience up front? Maybe it was all the hours you had spent reviewing footage of various players you would face in the league? But you abandoned your chase on Carmona, changing your momentum to catch up to Caicedo just at the right time. Cata had drifted to the right in anticipation of Olga’s strike, but you knew she wouldn’t attempt the shot – not when Caicedo was sitting wide open with a goalkeeper-less net in front of her. You threw your body into the header – it was easily the harshest one you had given all season – possibly your whole career. Your technique was perfect though as you caught only the ball, using your momentum to bounce the ball away from the goal before bouncing painfully on the ground. You quickly rushed to your feet, watching Cata take advantage of a very confused Caicedo and a disappointed Carmona to chase the ball and boot it out into the stands.

There was a moment of quiet – at least it was quiet for you – before the world came back into focus. Your heartbeat was in your ears, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you sucked in precious oxygen. Cata was the first to get her hands to you. She shook your shoulders almost violently, your head wobbled comically at the action.

“Tu nena preciosa,” she shouted, kisses raining down on your forehead. You felt head pats and light taps on your back as you made your way back into your position.

Finally, the full whistle went. Barça had won El Clásico yet again (although it was tougher than anyone cared to admit)

“You …” Lucy said as her warm arms wrapped you in a hug. “That was the best defending I have ever seen.” She smiled, clearly wanted to say and do more.

“I learned it from you,” you whispered as you squeezed back. “The flying header. A Lucy Bronze special,” you teased.

“And you said you couldn’t defend.” She scoffed. “I’m so proud of you.” She said, pressing kisses into your sweaty hairline. You blushed profusely but smiled, nonetheless. That was all you really wanted, to make Lucy proud. “I think this calls for a treat, don’t you?” She whispered seductively into your ear as she dragged you into the changing rooms, a sly smirk dancing on her lips.

Hope you enjoyed reading <3<3<3<3

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joelscurls · 8 months

Text

feel it in your bones

next part

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 12.5k

summary: Two years ago, you finished your PhD and moved to Vermont. In the time since, you’ve gotten a job as a college professor, had your heart broken, and sworn off relationships entirely. Enter Joel, the father of one of your students, here for Homecoming Weekend – and too attractive to resist.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), alcohol consumption, fluff, smut, masturbation (f), mutual pining(?), sexual tension, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cumplay / cum eating, some light biting, use of pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, etc.), reader has an asshole ex, no use of y/n

a/n: my first Joel fic! This is honestly a bit self-indulgent but I love fall and academia and Joel Miller so sue me okay. ty to my bby @caffeinated-validation for reading through this and offering your insight -- get you a partner who will beta your filthy Joel Miller smut for you lmao <3

You’ve gotten used to being alone.

You don’t mind it as much as you had a few months ago, the breakup still fresh, every touch of your own fingers seering into your skin when you’d remembered the way he’d touched you, the sound of your voice almost unrecognizable as you’d convince yourself each day to get out of bed and go to work, where you’d inevitably run into him. It was painful then, having to come home to the quiet, always far too aware of the sound of your own thoughts drumming against the inside of your skull.

Now though, you revel in that quiet. Sip your coffee in silence each morning. You’ve learned how to stay lost in your work, bringing home stacks of papers to grade and eating through texts to support your research while your dinner gets cold on the table in front of you. You’re well aware that this isn’t the healthiest way to cope, to just avoid it all, but it’s better than feeling.

You’ve sworn off relationships entirely. It’s a silent promise to yourself – that you’ll remain married to your work. You will devote all of your energy to making sure your students excel and that your research is strong. That is your life’s purpose, to make use of the PhD you worked so hard to get – not to be someone’s girlfriend or wife. And you’re fine with that, really. You’ve become immune to loneliness – or numb, maybe.

Regardless, you welcome the independence. You don’t have to worry about anyone else’s thoughts or feelings when it comes to the way you spend your own time. You’re free to do whatever you want. You can draw yourself a bath, fill it with bubbles, sit in it while you drain a bottle of wine into your mouth until the water runs cold. You can eat an entire box of dry cereal in one sitting while you re-watch your favorite show for the twentieth time. You can make yourself cum at any hour of the night with your vibrator or your shower head or your hand – and then go to work the next morning without a semblance of guilt.

Really, you like being alone.

Until you don’t.

It’s Homecoming Weekend at Sarah’s school.

She had insisted that Joel didn’t have to come, that it was mostly an opportunity for the college to milk donations out of sentimental alumni. But he’d missed her for the month she’d been gone, the house far too quiet with just him in it. In previous years, Joel had busied himself following Sarah’s departure with home projects. Three years in, though, he’s updated just about every room in the house, re-done the floors, built a brand new back deck.

In other words, he’s fresh out of distractions.

So, he’d made the trek to Vermont, with the excuse that he’d always wanted to experience a New England fall. It’s a lie, one that Sarah can probably read right through, considering he vocalizes his discomfort whenever the temperature drops below 70 degrees in Texas, but she goes along with it.

Besides, he wants to see what his tuition money is paying for.

In truth, Joel had been nervous when Sarah announced what major she’d decided to pursue. She had just finished her freshman year, prerequisite courses all completed. When she’d said the word – anthropology – Joel hadn’t even been sure what it meant. Since then, she’s explained it to him many times and in truth, he’s still none the wiser. Really, he’s just happy that she’s happy. Her passion for it is evident on her face any time she talks to him about the courses she’s taking, how great her professors are.

Especially you – she talks about you all the time – her mentor.

You’re supervising her on her thesis project – a qualitative assessment on students’ views on feminism and gender politics in the classroom. This past summer, Joel swears Sarah had mentioned your name more than her own friends’. She’d told him what courses you teach, what research you’ve conducted, all the countries you’ve traveled to for fieldwork. And she gives the best advice – Sarah had said one night over dinner – she’s like, my lifeline at school.

Joel doesn’t know you, but he’s thankful for you – for the guidance you so clearly provide Sarah.

There’s an Open House today for the Social Sciences college, which Joel tags along with Sarah to. He’s hopeful that he’ll learn something, come to understand the field and why Sarah loves it.

A buffet table stocked with refreshments sits on one side of the lecture hall. Sarah grabs them both cups of water infused with cucumber while Joel saves them seats at the back. There’s a slideshow projected onto the white board at the front, the current slide reading: An Introduction to the Social Sciences College & Our Current Research Efforts. A group of professors gathers at the front, name tags stuck to their button-downs and blazers. Sarah spots you as she sits down, pointing you out as she hands Joel his water.

“There – that one’s my mentor – the one in the plaid pants.”

Joel’s eyes follow her finger to the group at the front, scanning down the line. There’s a man, short and stocky with noticeably small hands hooked by the thumbs in the belt loops of his pants. Next to him, is a woman, taller than him, wearing a bright turquoise silk shirt, gold bangles decorating both of her wrists. And next to her is you, in the plaid pants.

Sarah had told him a lot of things about you, but she’d never mentioned that you’re fucking gorgeous. You’re smiling at something Turquoise Shirt has just said to you, and it’s like your entire face is glowing. Joel has to take a sip of water to collect himself.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you for the entirety of the presentation.

The dean of the college starts by briefly covering each department and what research efforts they have planned for the semester. Joel should be listening, he came here to listen – but he can’t get himself to focus on anything other than you.

You’re mostly focused on the presenter. Every so often, though, you distractedly toy with the buttons on your cardigan or twirl a strand of your hair between delicate fingers. And Joel is suddenly realizing how touch-starved he is after years of refusing to date – because just watching you, your hands – is about to send him into orbit.

You’re well-spoken too, he learns, when you take the microphone to discuss your current research project.

“This semester, I’ll be delving into the presence of food deserts in Vermont, and the effects these are having on the overall health of youth in the state,” you say. “We have received a sizable grant for this research, and I am thrilled to get started in a matter of weeks. This project will span the better part of the academic year as I speak to locals and craft surveys that will provide qualitative data to support my findings from the field.”

You press down on the clicker in your hand. A new slide projects onto the whiteboard. It’s a photo of you against the backdrop of a jungle, lush, green trees stretching past the top of the frame. The wide-brimmed hat you’re wearing covers most of your face – but that damn smile radiates through the makeshift screen.

“This is me last summer, in Peru. My research here was much more self-indulgent – I studied the important role that food plays in the average family there – and ate wayyyy too many sweets.”

The crowd laughs. It’s the first reaction they’ve expressed this entire time.

It’s entrancing, the way you command the room. You have such a calm confidence about you as you speak, words never once faltering as you stride back and forth across the front of the lecture hall. Joel isn’t much of a talker – maybe that’s why he feels like he could listen to you for hours on end. He thinks that you could read the damn phone book and his focus would remain unwavering. That your voice, velvet-soft, could spellbind him without much effort.

When your portion of the presentation ends, he’s more than a bit disappointed.

Students and their families filter out of the lecture hall. You situate yourself in a corner of the room for the actual Open House portion of the event, at the ready to answer any questions or, more likely, offer directions to another part of campus.

You smile as familiar faces and strangers alike pass you, reach for your to-go mug on the table behind you, and take a sip. The coffee is pretty much ice-cold now, but you still gulp it down, only after the caffeine anyway.

You place the mug back down with a light thud against the tabletop. Suddenly, a voice you’ve come to know well rings in your ear.

“Professor!”

When you look up, Sarah Miller is bounding down the aisle, signature smile plastered across her face. And there’s a man behind her, you notice, moving much slower.

He’s tall, broad shoulders pulling taut against the green flannel he’s wearing. He cradles a beige workwear jacket in the crook of his bicep,corded muscle visibly bulging against fabric. His other hand rubs at the scruff along his jaw, pointedly sharp in the patches where hair doesn’t grow.

He has a distinguishable nose, you notice as he gets closer, strong – large and hooked at the center of his tan face. It’s complemented perfectly by his plush, pink lips that seem to be set in a permanent pout.

In other words, he’s handsome – almost distractingly so, as he stands next to Sarah in front of you.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she beams – turns to the man next to her.

“Dad, this is my mentor,” She says your name.

He nods. His eyes meet yours. They’re deep brown, almost black – and undeniably entrancing.

“‘‘ts nice to meet you, Ma’am. I’m Joel.”

Ma’am.

It’s not like the word is foreign to you, given your profession. There’s something about the way he says it, though, that makes your head spin, his southern drawl dripping in honey-butter and bourbon.

Joel outstretches a hand. You shake it – try to ignore the way it dwarfs yours.

“Joel,” you repeat, eyes locked firmly on the space between his eyes. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“That was a great presentation you gave up there. You’re a good, uh – talker.” His expression is unreadable. His hands fidget at his sides.

You offer him a smile. “Thank you – I think? My students probably wish I would shut up sometimes. Right, Sarah?”

“Oh please,” she scoffs, “as if you’ve never seen your rating on Rate My Professor.”

She’s not wrong – you pride yourself on having pretty stellar reviews – but you also try your hardest not to let them get to your head. Sarah isn’t helping that, right now.

“Anyways,” she exaggerates the word, “what are you up to tonight, Professor? They’re holding an exhibition at the art center later, all student work – d’you wanna come with us?”

Your reflex is to say no. After all, he’ll probably be there. Your ex, Quentin, works in the art history department. And even though you’re over him, you’re not exactly looking for an excuse to be in the same room as him. But you technically don’t have plans tonight, and you can’t even think of a good lie right now with Sarah staring you down.

And then there’s Joel, standing in front of you, all broad shoulders and chiseled jaw – and you think, what a great opportunity to get to know him, you know, as the parent of your student. Definitely not as anything else, anything more. It is Homecoming, after all.

So, you say yes.

“Cool!” Sarah smiles, “Meet you there at 7?”

You nod, tell Sarah that sounds perfect, and that you’ll see them tonight.

Sarah starts toward the door. But Joel stands there for a moment longer. His eyes linger on yours, his wordless stare threatening to burn a hole in your head. You can feel the heat of it, beads of sweat beginning to form at the base of your neck. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying your hardest to conceal them.

A beat passes. It looks like he might say something, his mouth opening then closing again.

He gives you a courteous nod, turns on his heels, and follows after Sarah.

Joel hadn’t remembered the food being this bad when he’d visited for orientation. He struggles to keep down a particularly rubbery bite of chicken and reaches for his water bottle, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he focuses on not vomiting.

Sarah laughs next to him. “Hey man, at least you don’t have to eat this shit year-round.”

He grunts in agreement. “Gonna cancel your meal plan next semester and jus’ give you the money to buy groceries.”

She hums. Cocks her head. “That means I’m gonna have to learn how to cook – do you think Student Housing has fire insurance?”

Joel wants to roll his eyes, but it’s definitely his fault – after all, he can barely fry an egg without setting off the fire alarm. Their freezer has always been well-stocked with TV dinners and tater tots. So instead, he just shrugs.

“So what’s this art thing tonight?” He moves on to the salad on his plate, decidedly much safer.

“I don’t really know – my roommate asked me to go, she has some pieces in it, I guess.”

He nods. “And your professor – that was nice ‘a you to invite her.”

Sarah nods, smiles. “Yeah – you like her, right? I mean, you’re sure you’re cool with me asking her to come?” She asks, a mouthful of lettuce.

“‘Course,” he says, attempting to keep his voice level, nonchalant.

“I know you’re not really one for meeting new people,” she teases.

He mock-glares at her. It quickly softens into a smile. “Nah – she seems cool.” It’s an understatement, but Sarah doesn’t need to know that.

She doesn’t need to know that her dad is attracted to her professor.

Joel thinks that he might not have been so great at hiding it, though, when a few hours later, in the middle of watching an unarguably bad student production of Macbeth, Sarah turns to him and whispers that she’s not feeling well.

“Hm, is that right?,” he whispers back, unconvinced.

“Yeah, must’ve been the food.”

“We ate the same thing, Sarah.”

There’s a shout on stage. The actor’s voice cracks.

“Well I dunno,” she continues, “My stomach just doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, and what about that thing with your professor?”

He can see her smirk even in the dim lighting.

“Shit, you’re right. And I don’t have her phone number, so it’s not like I can text her...”

She groans. Joel thinks she should be on that stage right now.

“We can’t just ghost her.” Joel has no idea what that means. He doesn’t bother asking.

“Sarah-” he starts.

“Please. She’s such a nice lady, she doesn’t deserve to be stood up.”

He could say no. It’s not like he knows you, owes you anything. But in truth, Joel does want to see you again. And he’s well aware that Sarah might be trying to set the two of you up – ever-perceptive and hell-bent on her dad being happy – but he tries not to think about how embarrassing that feels, his daughter playing matchmaker for him. Because he wants to spend more time with you, get to know more about you, if you’ll let him.

He’s barred himself from forming any kind of real relationship with a woman since Sarah’s mother left. Not because she’d broken his heart, but because he’d needed all of his energy to go to Sarah. As a single father, he had always feared that he wouldn’t be enough for his daughter – wouldn’t give enough – that growing up in a broken home would leave her half of a person. That fear had fueled him to be the best dad possible – to work overtime so that he could provide for them, to never miss one of her soccer games or dance recitals. And so, he had never even considered dating, not seriously, anyway. It would take attention away from Sarah, and he couldn’t risk that.

He’s found it difficult to shake this principle, now that Sarah has grown up. He often grapples with the fact that Sarah doesn’t need him as much anymore – that she’s her own person living her own life. He knows he could date now, could meet someone new, open his heart to them. But he’s so used to fighting that human need for companionship, that it feels almost unnatural to let his guard down.

But now there’s you – your megawatt smile and your impressive intelligence and your care for his daughter – and suddenly he’s forgotten his own rules.

“Okay; I’ll go.” It comes out entirely too enthusiastic.

He can practically feel Sarah’s accomplished, shit-eating grin burning into the side of his head.

You leave campus around four pm, once the last of the Open House participants have gone.

You take a shower when you get home. Then you order sushi – stuff rolls of yellowfin and salmon into your mouth as you sit at the dining table still wrapped up in your towel, trying your best not to spill soy sauce on the half-graded essays that litter the tabletop. When you’re done, you retreat to your closet, treading on damp feet across the waxy hardwood floor.

And you definitely don’t think about Joel – not when you debate what to wear to the art exhibition, not when your fingers accidentally graze one of your nipples as you put your bra on, not when you get distracted while pulling your panties on by the pool of wetness that has formed between your thighs.

You definitely don’t think about him – because he’s Sarah’s dad, and that would be wrong.

So it’s accidental when his name falls from your mouth, fingers pressed against your clit, visions of large, calloused hands flashing behind your closed eyelids.

You cover your mouth with the curve of your palm to prevent it from slipping out again. Sink back into the mattress.

Then you press your fingers down harder.

Joel feels like a first-year student, wandering aimlessly across campus in search of the art center. Sarah’s directions had been, well, brief. She’d insisted he’d be able to find it no problem. Now though, in the limited light of dusk, all the structures look the same, bleeding together like watercolors against the evening sky.

He does find it, eventually, a three-story brick building tucked between the library and what looks to be a dormitory. Bright, artificial light seeps through the windows that line the bottom floor. The double doors at the front are propped open, people slipping in and out of them as he approaches.

He looks for you outside, searching for a familiar head of hair, the brown cardigan you’d been wearing earlier. When he doesn’t see you, he reluctantly makes his way up the stairs and into the building.

He spots you almost immediately affixed in front of a painting, studying it intently.

You’re wearing a different outfit than the one you had on this afternoon – a merlot-colored slip dress and a cropped leather jacket. He struggles to ignore the way the satin clings to you, the curves of your body excruciatingly accentuated. He has to remind himself that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, shouldn't expect you to stick around for long once he lets you know Sarah isn’t coming. You’ll probably make an excuse to leave shortly after, and he’ll be back on Sarah’s couch within the hour.

After all, why would you stick around just to talk to him?

You don’t see him when he sidles up next to you. He clears his throat and you startle.

“Sorry,” he brings a hand to the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to spook ya.”

You take a step back to face him and put a hand to your chest, your breath beginning to even. His eyes wander, for a moment, to where your fingers rest against your collarbone.

“Shit – it’s okay. Where’s Sarah?”

“She wasn’t feeling well, but she said I should still come. Is that – uh – is that okay?” He’s suddenly worried that this was dumb, that he shouldn’t have come, should’ve just let Sarah explain to you on Monday.

But your features soften then, a small smile forming between rosy cheeks.

“Joel, it’s fine; I appreciate you not ditching me.”

“‘Course,” he manages. He’s waiting for you to say something else – that you need to leave. But you don’t, and you both stand enveloped in the pregnant pause that lingers, bright overhead lighting and nerves giving Joel the start of a migraine he’ll have to ignore for the rest of the night.

He clears his throat. Turns to the painting in front of you. “So what’s this one, then?”

The painting in question is a mish-mash of shapes and colors. Joel can’t distinguish any one thing on the canvas. It’s all just a lot of…nothing. He knows it’s not for him when he thinks a preschooler with finger paints could’ve done this.

You bring your hand up to cradle your jaw, brows furrowed in contemplation. It looks like you’ll offer an actual, intellectual interpretation. So Joel isn’t prepared when instead, you say:

“Looks like a bad trip.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“Sorry,” you say, between giggles. “That was stupid.”

“No,” he says, swiping a hand over his jaw, trying to physically rub the embarrassing smile off his face. “You’re funny.”

He means it. He’s not sure how it’s possible that you’re funny, when you’re also so smart and interesting and gorgeous. It’s almost unfair. He thinks, fleetingly, that you’re way out of his league – a boring, old man like him.

You continue to the next piece, Joel following closely behind. It looks like it must be by the same artist. The same variation of shapes fill the canvas, just in different colors.

“Alright Cowboy, what’s your take on this one?”

Joel studies it for a moment – tries to find something he can pull out. Something tangible. Something funny, even.

He comes up empty.

“‘ts interesting f’sure. Lots of…colors,” he tries. He realizes how ridiculous he sounds. Laughs. “Shit…art ain’t really my thing,” he admits, arm stretched behind his head.

“So what is your thing?” Your voice is tinged with something – Joel tries his hardest not to let himself believe that it’s flirtation.

Your eyes are still fixed on the canvas in front of you. And Joel is thankful, because he thinks if you looked at him, let those eyes meet his, he’d break – tell you that right now, you’re his thing.

He doesn’t get a chance to answer either way, though, because he’s interrupted by a man’s voice behind the two of you.

“Wow. Didn’t expect to see you here!”

You whip around to face him. Joel turns too. The man is taller than you, but shorter than him. He’s wearing round, wire-frame glasses that sit like a suggestion on his nose, and a full suit, with a tie that has some god-awful, ugly pattern all over it. It looks like the art here, Joel thinks.

Joel’s eyes flit back to you, and he watches as your hackles go up. You back up, bumping into the canvas behind you. You curse under your breath.

“Quentin. Hey.”

“Glad you could make it,” the man, Quentin, says. He swirls a cup of what appears to be red wine in one hand. He leans in closer, brings the other hand up at the side of his mouth to conceal his words. “I know this isn’t really your scene.”

You shift uncomfortably. “Yeah,” you say. “I’m uh, venturing out, I guess. Trying new things.”

He laughs. It’s an asshole laugh, Joel notes. Everything about this guy screams asshole.

“About time!” The asshole puts a hand on your shoulder. You flinch. Joel’s hands instinctively bunch into fists at his side.

“So proud of you,” Quentin says. “Finally letting yourself be a little cultured.”

This guy can’t be serious.

You scoff. Grab his hand and flick it off your shoulder. He looks wounded. Good, Joel thinks.

“Yeah, because traveling the world has left me so very uncultured, Quentin.”

“Hey,” he puts his hands up. “Don’t take offense, baby. I know your little field trips are important, too.”

It’s the last straw.

In one movement, you’re pushing off the wall, shoving past Quentin, and making your way to the exit. Joel doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at the asshole, just follows after you out the door.

It’s gotten colder in the short time he’d been inside, he notices. A gust of wind nips at the exposed skin on his hands. He stuffs them haphazardly in the pockets of his jacket.

He finds you perched on the front steps, arms wrapped around your body protectively. He takes a few cautious strides forward. When you look up at him, you’re visibly distraught.

You groan as he sits down next to you. “Sorry. That was embarrassing.”

Joel wants to touch you, put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but he knows he probably shouldn’t – not right now.

“‘ts not embarrassin’,” he says, instead. His warm breath materializes in the cold air. “Not for you, anyway. That guy was clearly an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That was my ex-boyfriend.” You’re both quiet, then. The two of you sit there, side by side on the stairs, in comfortable silence. A few minutes pass. Joel notices you chewing on your bottom lip, like you’re considering something. When you speak again, your voice wavers.

“Would you want to go for a drink or something? It’s just, I really don’t want to be here anymore.”

For a moment, he can’t believe what he’s hearing – you’re asking him out? He takes a second to respond. You start to backtrack. “It’s okay if you don’t wan-”

“Hey,” he stops you. Makes sure you’re looking at him.

“I thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Great.” Your hand drops to your side, brushing against his. He expects you to move it. He’s thankful when you don’t.

“I know a place–” you continue – “one that won’t be full of drunk college kids.”

“Great,” Joel parrots you. He stands, extends a hand to help you up. You take it, letting your palm rest against his for a moment longer than necessary when you’re upright.

“Cool,” you say, clearing your throat. You pull up the Uber app on your phone. Joel watches you book a driver. Then you turn back to him with a smile. It’s different from the one he’s seen before. It’s smaller, shyer.

“Larry will be here in 4 minutes,” you say.

The bar is a twenty minutes’ drive from campus – fifteen with Larry’s lead foot.

It’s more of a lounge than a bar, really – leather armchairs accompanied by low cocktail tables arranged throughout the single large, open room. A brick fireplace sits on the back wall, currently roaring with warm orange flames.

On either side of the fireplace are floor-to-ceiling shelves stacked with vintage books, their illegible titles etched in gold along weathered spines. You can imagine that their pages are yellowed and dusty, and it’s so tempting to swipe one off the shelf to see, to smell.

The light in here is warm, a stark contrast from the bright white of the art gallery. It’s comforting, and you feel your body immediately relax when you walk through the entrance next to Joel.

The bar at the front is busy (it is Saturday night, after all), so you and Joel stand at the back of the crowd for a few moments, waiting for the people in front of you to get their drinks. When a group of men start forcing their way through right next to you, Joel immediately puts a large hand on your shoulder, turning your body towards his. He’s just being chivalrous, making sure you don’t get shoved, but it still sends a shockwave up your spine.

When a spot clears in front of the bar, Joel steps forward, bringing you with him. He orders a whiskey neat, then turns to you, asking what you want.

It’s difficult to think with his hand still on you, so you go with the first words that come to mind.

“Same as you.”

He stares at you for a moment, amused, like he can see right through you and the fact that you’ve never had whiskey in your life. But you hold his gaze, challenging him with your eyes, and he drops it. “Make that two,” he tells the bartender.

Once you have your drinks, Joel slaps a few bills down on the bar. You can tell he won’t let you do so much as offer to pay him back, so you don’t. You lead him through the lounge to a couple of chairs tucked away in the back corner, partially hidden behind an antique wooden partition – far enough from the main seating area, but still close enough to the fireplace that you can feel its warmth.

This is where you always sit when you come, usually with coworkers, once or twice with him. Quentin had been pretty critical of this place, like he is with everything. He’d complained that the wine selection could be larger – that they could have more French options. When you’d explained that most of their wines come from local vineyards, he’d just rolled his eyes.

You’re still reeling a bit from your interaction with him at the gallery, even as you settle into soft leather and feel a burst of warmth against your cheek. He was such an asshole, you think, taking a cautious sip of whiskey. You’re immediately repulsed by the taste of it, and you do a poor job of hiding the grimace that automatically spreads across your face in the crook of your arm.

Joe laughs across from you. “Not your thing? I can go grab ya somethin’ else,” he offers.

“No,” you insist, “this is fine. Just need to get used to it.” It’s a lie – you both know it – but he doesn’t push it.

Instead he leans back, swirls his own glass – which looks comically tiny in his grip – and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

“So, your ex is a real dick, huh?”

“You can say that again,” you mumble.

He quirks a brow at you. “Why’d you even date him?”

It’s a fair question. Why had you dated him? Loneliness, maybe? You’d like to blame it on that, but it’s not the truth – not entirely. Quentin had been kind, at first. He had seemed so interested in you and where you came from and what you were passionate about. He was a relatively good boyfriend, all things considered – until he’d grown tired of hiding who he really was.

You’d gotten a substantial pay raise at the end of your second year at the university. When you’d told Quentin, he’d gone quiet – practically gave you the silent treatment for days on end. When you’d finally worn him down, gotten him to talk, the most he could utter was that he was happy for you; he just wasn’t sure why he hadn’t gotten a raise like that yet.

It’s not like you were in competition – you worked for two entirely different departments, in different colleges. But it had been a constant losing battle nevertheless, to get him to stop comparing your successes. And when he’d found out you actually made more money than him – that had pretty much been the nail in the coffin.

You tell Joel all of this. You’re not sure why you do – it’s not like you can blame the alcohol after one half-sip of whiskey. You feel comfortable with him though, here, like this. He’s a good listener, too, attentively nodding every so often as you ramble.

When you’re done, he’s quiet. He stares at his drink, pursing his lips.

After a beat, he looks up at you.

“You deserve better than that, darlin’.”

You almost crumble under his gaze. His eyes are at least two shades darker than they had been a moment ago – and there’s something lingering behind them that you can’t quite place. Whatever it is has you feeling weak.

“You barely know me,” you joke.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I know enough, though. Could do much better than him, I reckon.”

You want to ask him if he has anyone in mind, if he would be better for you, but you can’t – not yet – not this sober. You take another sip of your drink, breathing through your nose as it burns its way down your throat.

You talk for hours. He asks about your family; you tell him how you moved out here two years ago on your own after you finished your doctorate program. He’s impressed by that, says you’re brave. You tell him you’ve never felt very brave.

It’s all so easy, talking to Joel in the dimly-lit bar you’ve been to so many times before. Sipping on whiskey as if you actually enjoy it. It’s never felt so much like home — not the bar, not this town. The thought is dizzying.

He asks about Sarah, too, how she’s doing in school. He insists that she doesn’t tell him much, and if she does, it’s about you and how great your classes are.

“I had never even heard of anthropology before she decided to study it,” he admits. “But I’m glad she did. It’s her thing, f’sure.”

You smile, knowingly. “Yeah, it is. She’s a great kid, Joel. You raised her well.”

He shakes his head humbly, but you don’t relent. You want him to hear this, really hear this. Because you get the feeling he hasn’t been told enough.

“She’s not just smart, Joel. She’s good. She’s a good person. That’s kind of rare nowadays — especially among her generation.”

Joel chuckles, his head hanging between his shoulders.

“I mean, shit,” you continue, “she brings me pancakes from the diner just off campus whenever she knows I’m stuck in my office working late. My other students barely even ask how I’m doing most days.”

Joel hums in amusement. His eyes are locked on a wrinkle in the leather of the arm of his chair.

“Joel,” you say, pointedly. You wait for him to look at you. When he does, his gaze is uncertain. “She’s a good person —“ you repeat — “and that’s because you raised her to be.”

“‘ts just southern hospitality, is all,” he mumbles.

“No Joel – it’s you.”

He stares for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing. His jaw twitches. And then he breaks, finally, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Thank you.”

His voice is so soft suddenly. It throws you off. It also turns you on – like, a lot, the gravellyness of it scratching your brain and your loins. You dig your nails into leather in an attempt to steady your quickening heart rate.

“No problem,” you mutter sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s a buzz on the table – Joel’s phone. He picks it up, squinting at the bright screen.

“Sarah?,” you ask.

“Nah, ‘ts just my brother, Tommy.”

He types out a quick response and re-locks the phone, placing it back down on the table.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, jus’ asking if I think hookin’ up with a client is a bad idea,” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

You don’t know Tommy, but you like him already – seems like a fun guy. And clearly values his brother’s opinions. It’s telling, you think.

“That’s right – you’re a contractor. You and your brother work together?”

“Yeah, we got our own business back home.”

“And you like it?,” you ask.

“Used to,” he laughs, “when I was more limber.”

You laugh too. You can feel the heat of slight intoxication, and something else, in your chest, your inhibitions dissolving in your bloodstream. And suddenly that horrible idea you’d had earlier to flirt with Joel doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

“Still look plenty limber to me, Mr. Miller.” The words leave you before you have the chance to stop them.

Joel’s hands tense on either arm of his chair. Despite your buzz, you still have half a mind to worry that you’ve fucked up, that there’s a chance you’ve misread this whole thing.

But then he sinks back in the chair, the leather groaning under him. He rakes his dark eyes over you. And the way he’s looking at you is unmistakable. He looks hungry. You feel like your entire body has been set ablaze.

Without thinking, you stand up, take a couple of steps toward him. Scan the lounge. Most of the remaining patrons are huddled by the bar, talking boisterously among themselves. Tucked in your little corner, the two of you might as well be in a different zip code.

“Whatcha doin’, darlin’?” Joel smirks up at you as you stand unmoving in front of him. He takes one of your hands in his and traces gentle, reassuring shapes along the back of it with his index finger.

Without a word, you hike your dress up to your thighs and straddle him, knees digging into the leather on either side of his legs. He hums approvingly as you sink onto his lap and cup his face in your hands. He places his own on your lower back, just above your ass. “This okay?,” you ask. It comes out breathy and wrecked.

“C’mere,” he says in that syrupy drawl, and then one of his hands is on the back of your head, pushing you gently against him, your lips slotting to his.

It’s messy and all-encompassing. He kisses you with a fervency that confirms this hasn’t all been in your head –that he’s been wanting this too.

The voices of bar-goers and the clinking of glassware are suddenly muted. All you can focus on is Joel — the way he tastes like whiskey and cinnamon gum, the way one of his large hands comes to rest at the nape of your neck, fingers tangled in the hair there while the other remains on your back, steadying you. The way he licks into your mouth after a few seconds with a groan, causing you to reflexively bare down on his lap.

You feel his cock swell underneath you and you grind against it, laughing low and quiet against his lips when his entire body tenses. He pulls back, blinking up at you with glazed-over eyes. Joel, all six feet of him, looks wrecked.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he pants. He looks down at where you’re hovering over his now fully-hard cock. “Gotta stop. Otherwise you’re gonna make me cum in my pants like a damn teenager.”

You pout at him, lifting your lower half off of his. You don’t stand up, though – not immediately, anyway. Instead, you take his head back in both of your hands. He lets you, blinking up at you wordlessly.

You’d known when you’d first seen him earlier today that he was handsome, but right now, his face so close to yours – you’re seeing all of the little details – the scar indented in his forehead, just above his right eyebrow; the flush that stains his cheeks, which you can guess is partly from the alcohol, but maybe also from you. He’s biblically gorgeous, which makes it difficult to pry yourself off of him.

You do though, after a minute, smoothing down your dress once you’re back on two feet. You feel a bit breathless, suddenly. And exhausted.

What time is it?

You retrieve your phone from where it’s been lodged in the cushion of your chair.

You tap on the screen, waking it up.

12:47?! When had it gotten so late?

Joel stands, adjusting himself in his pants. You can’t help but giggle at him — big, tough man looking positively ruined after just a few minutes of being under you. You feel pretty accomplished. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Shut up — just get us an Uber.” You don’t miss the smile that sprouts between his cheeks when he thinks you aren’t looking.

You wait outside for your driver — John M.

The cold Vermont air is sobering. You feel almost normal by the time the car pulls up, save for the dull, throbbing ache between your legs. You will it away as you crouch into the back of the silver Nissan behind Joel. The sound of the radio playing soft rock hits is a poor distraction on the drive home.

“Wanna come in?,” you ask Joel when the car comes to a halt in front of your building. You watch him ponder it, eyes glued to the roof of the sedan. But ultimately, he shakes his head. “Can’t,” he says. “Gotta check on Sarah.”

You nod, try to hide your disappointment. “Right.”

You open the door. Just as you’re about to get out, Joel stops you.

“Wait,” he says. “Can I see your phone?” You’re confused, but you hand it over. You watch as he pulls up your contacts and clicks the ‘plus’ button in the corner, an understanding smile pulling at your lips.

When he hands the phone back, his contact now in it, you grab his from off the seat next to him and do the same.

“I’ll text you,” he promises as you step out.

You turn back to him. “You better.”

He’s smiling when you shut the door.

You’re smiling when the car pulls away.

It’s only when you’re tucked into bed, phone charging securely on the nightstand that the thought crosses your mind: you’re catching feelings for someone again.

And then you feel sick.

Joel wakes up the next morning feeling giddy. It’s like he’s a teenager all over again – waiting by the phone for a pretty girl to call him back. Only this time, he’s waiting for a text.

He had messaged you almost as soon as he’d gotten back to Sarah’s apartment last night, asking if he could see you again before he goes back to Texas. He has no shame about it, he can’t – not when his entire mind and body are consumed by his overwhelming attraction to you.

He’d found it difficult to sleep last night, and not because the springs in Sarah’s cheap couch were digging into his already-damaged back. It was thoughts of you, and the borderline-painful erection they caused, that had kept him up.

Now, with the sun seeping through the living room windows directly into his eyes, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to be awake. He checks his phone immediately, and tries to ignore the way his heart sinks when he sees you haven’t responded yet. You’re probably still asleep, he tells himself.

He tosses his phone aimlessly back onto the couch and stands with a groan. His legs feel worse than his back, if that’s even possible.

Sarah still isn’t awake, so Joel meanders into her kitchen, in search of something to eat for breakfast. It’s pretty much what you would expect from a college student’s kitchen – bare bones. There are a few suspicious containers of leftovers in the fridge along with a Brita water pitcher and a package of cookie dough. In the freezer, several cartons of ice cream (all chocolate) and half a loaf of bread. And finally, in the cabinets, a few boxes of mac & cheese and an unopened jar of peanut butter.

Toast it is, then.

Sarah appears just as he’s raiding her drawers for a butter knife. “Morning,” she announces sleepily behind him.

“Hey, Kiddo,” he says, turning to face her. “Hungry?”

“Yeah. There’s a diner down the street. Thought we could get pancakes.” She yawns.

Joel grins. That must be the place you’d told him about – the one Sarah brings you leftovers from when you’re working late.

“You buyin’?,” he jokes.

“Only in exchange for the juicy deets from last night.” She pauses. “Okay, maybe not all the deets. There’s some things I don’t need to know – like why you got home so late.”

“Sarah,” Joel warns, but she’s undeterred, smiling like a Cheshire Cat with every one of her unbrushed teeth on display.

“Just get changed,” she says, and skips out of the room.

You’ve been staring at the text for twenty minutes now.

Had a lot of fun tonight. Can I see you again before I leave? Let me know if you’re free tomorrow (today I guess). - Joel

You should say yes – you want to say yes – so why can’t you get your fingers to move?

It’s a stupid question. You know why – it’s Quentin and your inability to shake the fear that someone else will hurt you like he did. If you keep Joel at arm’s length – continue to ignore his message – he can’t do that. You can just take last night for what it was – a fun time, a hookup – and stop this before it goes too far, before feelings get involved.

Because it never ends well, once they do.

You get out of bed without responding, but you leave the text open on your phone. You attempt to busy yourself with housework and grading. Again and again though, you find your fingers hovering over the screen, your mind wandering to the way Joel’s lips had felt on yours, the way the bulge in his jeans had felt against your clothed heat, the sound of his southern drawl when he’d called you darlin’.

Then you snap yourself out of it and place the phone face-down on the table.

This goes on for hours, a vicious cycle. You feel your resolve slipping more and more each time you pick the phone up.

The sun is high in the sky by the time you break, light bathing your kitchen and revealing all of the spots you’d missed when you’d dusted earlier. Your phone is heavy in the palm of your hand like a bomb – like if you don’t hit send right now, you’ll lose the motivation and it’ll detonate, taking any chance of you seeing Joel tonight and not self-sabotaging with it.

You close your eyes when you press the button and toss your phone somewhere across the room.

Well – you think – no going back now.

Joel is sitting on cold, hard bleachers at the Homecoming football game when he sees you’ve responded, the shouts of people in the stands around him not enough to avert his attention.

Hey, yeah, that would be great! Do you want to come to my apartment later? I have a bottle of wine we can crack into if you’d like. And I can order pizza.

The announcer is saying something about player #72 over the loudspeaker. He doesn’t tune in.

Joel types his reply and sends it:

Sounds perfect. I’ll come over around 7?

Sarah groans next to him. “You wanted to come to this game, dad. If you’re bored already, can we leave?”

His eyes shoot up. “No, uh – sorry. Just had to answer one text.”

Sarah narrows her eyes at him. They dart to the phone just as another message rolls in, your name flashing across the screen before Joel can hide it.

“Is that my professor?”

Joel doesn’t answer. His silence confirms enough.

“I knew you guys hit it off last night! See, dad, even though you didn’t wanna tell me at breakfast, I still found out. I always find out. Because Sarah knows all.” She attempts a maniacal, Disney villain-esque laugh.

Joel raises an eyebrow at her.

“You done?”

“So you going out again later? Do I need to make your bed on the couch, or should I just not bother?”

He ignores her. Someone gets a touchdown and half the crowd goes wild. He doesn’t bother to check what team scored.

He opens your latest message, instead.

Perfect. See you then, Cowboy ;)

His breath hitches at the nickname, at the thought of you calling him that again in person. The thought of kissing you again, if you’ll let him.

He doesn’t catch who wins the game.

Joel arrives at your apartment at seven o’clock on the dot.

Punctual, you note.

He’s holding a bottle of wine, gripping the neck with long, calloused fingers.

“Know you said you had some already,” he says as he steps over the threshold. “Just didn’t wanna come empty handed.”

The sentiment takes you aback. You’re not exactly used to dates bringing you gifts, especially ones this expensive, if the minimalist yet fancy label is any indicator.

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, taking the bottle from him. You can’t quite make out the name – something foreign, etched in cursive.

“‘ts Italian, I think,” he mumbles, as if he can read your mind.

Your eyes shift from the bottle to Joel, standing in front of you in his Carhartt jacket, brows furrowed, gaze trained on the floor at his feet.

“Thank you,” you say more genuinely this time.

Joel smiles appreciatively. You motion to the space behind you.

“Come in.”

You lead Joel to the kitchen, just off the entranceway, and place the bottle down on the counter, gently. You tuck yourself in the corner, leaning back to rest your arms on cool granite. Joel mirrors you against the adjacent island.

“How’s Sarah?” you ask. “Feeling any better?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, rubbing at his scruff. “She was askin’ about you. Saw me textin’ you.”

“Yeah – guess you couldn’t exactly hide this from her, staying at her apartment and all.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Guess not.”

You pop open the bottle of wine. Pour glasses for both of you. Then you order pizza: one cheese, one sausage and pepper. The person on the other end of the line tells you it’ll be thirty to forty minutes.

“Gonna be a bit of a wait,” you tell Joel when you hang up. “Busy night, I guess.”

He nods, takes a sip of wine, and then places the glass down, his eyes unmoving from yours.

You realize then that he’d been staring at you the entire time you were on the phone. The way he’s looking at you – gaze the same as the one from the bar last night when you’d straddled him – has you feeling suddenly nervous.

“What?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks.

Oh.

You breathe out a laugh. It’s not funny – really, the opposite – but you hadn’t been expecting him to ask that. “Joel-” you’re going to say yes – fuck yes – but he interrupts you.

“Been dyin’ to since last night.” He’s so open, so earnest. It’s fucking hot.

“Joel,” you say again, louder this time. He freezes. His eyes widen, like he’s anticipating your answer.

“Please.”

It’s all he needs to hear. In an instant, he crosses the distance between you. He places his hands on the counter behind you, framing your body with his. You peer up at him and, fuck – he looks ravenous.

He kisses you – hard. His teeth crash against yours. It’s messy and hurried, but you don’t care – you want him closer, need him closer.

Your head swims with memories of the feeling of his bulge against your clothed core. The need to feel it again is all-consuming. You’re greedy for it. And with the time constraint, you don’t want to wait another second.

You pull back abruptly. Joel furrows his eyebrows where he looms over you, concerned.

“Joel,” you pant, “I need you.”

It takes him a second to compute what you’re asking. And then he’s nodding furiously.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Okay, darlin’.”

You pull him back in with a hand at the back of his neck, digging your nails into the skin there. His tongue slips into your mouth with a groan. You’re minutely aware of him shrugging his jacket off, hearing the light thump it makes when it hits the linoleum. And then his hands are on you, wandering up and down your body like he needs to feel every inch of you. He tugs at the base of your t-shirt impatiently.

“Off,” he mumbles against your lips. You pull back only to do as he’s asked, and then you’re right back on him, sucking a bruise into the skin below his ear, your body claiming him subconsciously. His head falls back momentarily, revealing his bobbing throat. You scrape your teeth lightly along the skin there, eliciting a groan from Joel.

Your mouth continues exploring his neck as his fingers find the clasps of your bra, unhooking them quickly and tossing it aside. You don’t see where. You don’t really care – you’ll find it later.

He grabs your now-naked sides and steps back, pulling you with him. Then he turns you and pushes you back against the island.

He slaps the countertop behind you. “Up,” he breathes against your neck. You don’t argue. You don’t want to argue. You’re so used to being the one in charge, the one in control — right now you’re happy to bend to Joel’s will.

You grip the edge of the island with both hands and hoist yourself up so that you’re perched there, legs dangling.

Joel’s fingers immediately go to the button of your jeans, popping it open before moving to tug the zipper down. And then he’s helping you lift your hips so that he can pull them down and off. He adds them to the pile at his feet.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear splayed out on your kitchen counter in front of him. You feel like you should be self conscious, maybe even embarrassed by your depravity. But you can’t find it in you to be either, not when Joel is slotted between your legs, his dark eyes scanning over you hungrily. Showing you he needs you just as bad as you need him.

He rubs his hands over your thighs and up the sides of your body, mapping your curves with great concentration. “God damn,” he whispers, what seems to be, mostly to himself. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You whine pathetically. Your patience is growing thin.

He smirks up at you, likely seeing in your face how desperate you are for him right now.

“‘ts okay baby, I got you,” he coos, suddenly sinking to his knees in front of you. His hands move closer to your clothed pussy, but not quite there, tracing light circles along your inner thighs. Then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, sending your hips bucking off the counter, chasing him.

The coarse hair of his mustache scratches the skin surrounding where he sucks and bites. You don’t care. You just want to feel it lower, against your dripping folds.

“Please,” you breathe, shakily. Through hooded eyes, you catch Joel’s satisfied grin. You realize then that he loves this — making you beg for it, for him. It’s a dizzying contradiction to the way he was practically begging to kiss you just moments ago.

He presses a chaste kiss against your skin, his lips infuriatingly close to where you need them most.

“Whatcha need, darlin’?” he purrs. The vibration of his voice just next to your core has you spiraling.

“Need your mouth,” you cry. “Please.”

“Where?” He nips at you, half an inch closer to your swollen clit. You can feel his breath. Your cunt reactively clenches around nothing.

“On my pussy, Joel” you plead.

He pulls away from you completely, looks up at you with devilish eyes.

“Good girl.”

He dips one finger into the side of your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked,” he drawls. You catch the hint of pride that tinges his voice.

“Please,” you beg again, your voice wanton and broken.

Joel gently pets your throbbing clit with the pad of his thumb. The pressure he applies is feather-light, barely there. But still, after all the teasing, you can’t help the embarrassingly loud moan that escapes you.

He chuckles darkly. “Alright sweetheart, I know – enough teasin’.”

He hooks both index fingers in the top of your panties, pulling them down and off in one swift movement. And then his tongue is on you, exactly where you need it.

He holds you open with fingers digging deliciously into the meat of your thighs as he licks long, languid stripes from your leaking cunt up to your clit, over and over again until you’re a whimpering mess underneath him. You struggle to hold your weight up on your elbows, watching him as he works you with his mouth.

He’s so good at this – too good at this. You tell him as much, between broken moans.

“Sofuckinggood Joel – holy shit.”

You swear you can feel him smirk against your heat.

He buries his face into your cunt then, nose pressed against your clit, and swivels his head back and forth, coating his mustache and beard in your arousal. He groans against you, like this is getting him off just as much as you. It’s all so obscene, so filthy.

You’ve never had a man go down on you like this – like they actually enjoy it. But then again, it doesn’t come as much of a surprise, not when it’s Joel. You’ve quickly come to learn that he’s attentive in every sense of the word. Knows just what you want, what you need – evident by the way his lips latch back onto your clit when you keen for him.

He keeps his attention there, switching between suckling on it – which is enough to make you see stars on its own – and lapping at it with short, shallow flicks of his tongue. He experiments with different angles, licking at different spots on the bundle of nerves until he finds the one that makes you cry out, your babbles of there Joel, yes, right fucking there, don’t stop, letting him know exactly where to focus.

You feel yourself quickly hurtling toward the edge. You just need a little bit more to get you there.

“Fingers,” you pant. “Need your fingers in me.”

Two of his fingers are at your entrance before you can even blink. You’re so wet that he slides them in easily, curling them against your walls. He expertly finds your G-spot, massaging it as his tongue continues to lap at your clit.

You gasp at the combination. It’s so good – so much. “Oh my god Joel, I’m so close,” you cry.

He doesn’t let up, doesn’t even look at you. His eyes are closed in concentration, fingers and tongue unrelenting. He’s lost in your pussy. You can tell he’s not going to come up for air until he’s given you an orgasm.

And it doesn’t take much longer – one, two, three more strokes of his fingers and you’re cumming hard.

Your vision blurs and your ears ring in your head. You’re vaguely aware that Joel is pinning one of your thighs down with his free hand to hold you in place as you thrash against the countertop.

He fucks you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he continues to curl them against that spot, your clit throbbing against his tongue.

It is – without a doubt – the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down, eager to milk every last drop from your weeping cunt. The overstimulation is too much. Your grip tightens in his hair, weakly attempting to pull him off of you as you whimper nonsense above him. You manage to exhale his name, or something close to it, and he finally lifts his face.

His eyes meet yours, dark and hooded. He looks absolutely pussydrunk.

The entire lower half of his face is soaked with your slick. His shiny, pink lips pepper kisses along your inner thighs, smoothing over the spots he’d marked with his teeth just minutes ago. You feel so sensitive – you shiver under his touch.

His smile curves into your skin. He leaves one last light peck and stands up, grunting at the ache in his knees. You laugh, but you can tell by the darkness still looming in his gaze that he’s not done with you yet.

He helps you off the counter, steadying you with hands gripping your sides as you find your footing. Your legs feel like Jell-O, a welcomed side-effect of the earth-shattering orgasm you’ve just had. You lead Joel to your bedroom, leaving your clothes scattered across the kitchen floor.

He backs you toward the bed as soon as you’re in your room, lips latched to the side of your neck. The backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he’s lowering both of your bodies onto it, cradling your head in his hand as you settle underneath him.

He sits back on his knees, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal his broad, tan torso. You’re pretty sure you’re salivating, lost in the slope of his shoulders and the wide expanse of his chest. Your eyes trail lower as he undoes his belt, followed by the button of his jeans. He shimmies them off along with his boxers, his large cock springing free, tip shiny with pre-cum, and hovers back over your eager body.

He dips down and presses his lips to yours, prying your mouth open with his tongue. He’s remarkably patient for how hard he is, his erection pressing into your thigh as he kisses you, slow and wet.

One of his hands grips your jaw, the other pressed firmly against the mattress next to you. Minutes pass like that, you and Joel losing yourselves in each other. Then you remember that you don’t have all the time in the world – that your delivery driver could get here any minute. In truth, you’re not even fucking hungry anymore – not for pizza, anyway.

You snake your hand up to the back of Joel’s head, pulling at his roots lightly. “Joel,” you breathe when he lifts off of you, “please fuck me.”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice.

“How do you want it, baby?” he purrs in your ear, his warm breath skating over your skin. “How do you like it?”

You breathe out a moan. No man has ever asked you how you like it. They usually just give you a few sloppy, ill-timed thrusts, whatever they can muster before cumming and leaving you unsatisfied.

But Joel isn’t just any man.

“Hard,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me hard.”

He growls, low and dark. “‘ts right, sweetheart.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, rutting against your folds a few times to gather some of your wetness with the tip of his cock.

Then he sinks into you, slowly, stretching your walls as he notches further and further in. There’s a sweet, stinging pain, one you hope, fleetingly, that you’ll be able to feel tomorrow – like a keepsake from him.

You sigh when he reaches the hilt, his tip nudging your cervix. He stills, letting you get used to his girth and you have to dig your nails into his back to keep from writhing under him. You don’t mind if it hurts – you just need him to move.

“Please,” you whine, unable to stop your hips from bucking any longer. “I can take it, Joel.”

“Know you can, baby,” he coos, beginning to rock slowly inside of you. The pleasure is immediate, washing over your body like a warm wave.

He picks up the pace when he’s sure it feels good for you, dragging his cock halfway out of you and thrusting back in, over and over again.

He grabs both of your legs, bending them so that you’re spread wide open for him, and grips the backs of your knees tightly as he slams into you. He can get so much deeper like this, his cock hitting a spot you didn’t even know you had. You let out a labored moan, fingers anchored into his delts.

“Talk to me darlin — tell me how it feels,” he pants.

“So – fuck, Joel – so fucking good.”

Joel drops his mouth to your shoulder, nips at the skin there.

His voice is in your ear, a low snarl.

“‘Better than that fuckin ex, I bet.”

You’d be annoyed by his cockiness – if he wasn’t so right.

But he is, and so you parrot, “So much better.” And then, because it’s the truth, you add, “the best.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hips stuttering at your words. “Can’t say that angel, you’ll make me cum.”

He pulls out and slams back into you again, setting a new, devastating pace. He fills you up just to leave you empty, over and over again. You’re a babbling mess underneath him, couldn’t string two more words together if you tried. Luckily, Joel is happy to take over and do the talking.

“So fuckin’ pretty, babygirl. Make the most gorgeous noises, too.”

You’re so fucking close, you can only whimper in response. You feel your walls tighten around him.

He presses your foreheads together, his sweaty curls sticking to your skin. His eyes bore into yours.

“C’mon baby, show me – show me how pretty ya are when ya cum on this cock.”

He brings one hand down to your clit, rubbing sloppy circles over it as he continues spearing into you. You hike your newly-freed leg up over his lower back. A white heat licks at your spine. You barely have time to tell Joel you’re about to cum, your warning coming out a single cry of his name. He gets it, though, bringing you over the edge with his words.

“I got you, baby, I got you; you can let go.”

Your orgasm barrels through you, from the tips of your toes all the way up to your ears. Joel doesn’t let up his ministrations, talking you through it as you writhe under him.

“Thaaaats it. Good – ahh – good fuckin’ girl.”

The only word you can think of in your state of euphoria is his name, chants of Joel, Joel, Joel spilling from the back of your throat as you cum.

You’re squeezing his cock through your aftershocks, and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts become more and more uneven.

“Fuck – where do you want it?” he braces both palms against the mattress on either side of you.

“Inside – please, Joel,” you beg. “I’m on the pill.”

He curses in ecstasy, cumming seconds later with a series of low grunts. His hips stall as he spills inside of you. There’s so much of it – he’s nearly drowning your cervix, coating your walls with rope after rope of his spend.

He softens inside you, staying there for a long moment as you both come down from your highs. You’re sweaty, panting messes, and you can’t help but giggle at how spent you both sound.

“Good?” he asks, nosing at the space just below your jaw. It’s so soft, so gentle. Your stomach does a backflip.

“Yeah,” you say. “Really fucking good.”

He pulls out of you with a low, guttural noise. You sigh at the loss of him, your hand coming down reflexively to feel where he’s leaking out of you. His fingers graze yours, and he bumps them aside to scoop up some of your combined fluids.

He brings his wet, sticky fingers to your lips, humming when you immediately take them into your mouth and suck them clean, eyes unmoving from his the entire time. You bat your eyelashes at him, innocently as he pulls them out with a wet pop.

“Fuck,” he curses, “gonna get me hard again, angel.”

He lays down next to you, letting his head thump against the pillow, and flexes his biceps behind his head. You kind of hope he does get hard again, despite the fact that your whole body feels like liquid. Like if you were to try and stand, your legs would most definitely give out on you. They’re trembling right now, where you have them half-bent, heels dug into the mattress.

Your phone rings, then, snapping you out of your post-coital bliss. Fuck – the pizza.

You answer, trying your best to hide the undeniably fucked-out lilt of your voice as you tell the delivery person that someone will be right down.

Joel laughs next to you when you hang up. “I’ll get it – hold on.”

He jumps out of bed and dresses quickly. You’re gawking at him as he does. You can’t help it. This man – probably the hottest man you’ve ever seen – was just inside of you. You want to pat yourself on the back. He notices you staring as he’s zipping up his jeans and shoots you a wink.

Joel deadbolts your front door and disappears into the hallway. He returns moments later, shutting and re-locking the door, and strides back into your bedroom with both boxes. You can see the steam coming off of them through the cardboard.

He sets them down by your feet.

“In bed?” you ask, sitting up against the headboard.

“Well I’m not sure you can walk to the kitchen, darlin’.”

Your face heats. He has a point. But he doesn’t have to be so smug about it. You roll your eyes at him and mumble something nonsensical under your breath as you tuck yourself in under your duvet.

“What was that?” He quirks an eyebrow.

Long gone is the shy Joel from earlier this evening. He knows your body now, knows how hard he makes you cum. He’s a whole different man post-coitus – bolder. It makes you damn near melt.

And maybe you’re different now too. Because you’re pretty sure you’d give up your vow of solitude for him, if he asked.

It’s crazy, probably. You’ve only known Joel for two days, after all. But you can’t help the way that he ( and his dick) makes you feel. Like maybe there’s a promise of something down the line, however serious that something may be. You just know you want to give yourself the opportunity to experience it, no matter how it ends.

“Nothing.” You break, grin pulling tight at the corners of your mouth. “Just get me a slice of cheese.”

He lets his gaze linger for a second longer, the faux-threat of it heating you from the inside out. And then he’s vanishing into the kitchen, returning with two plates and a stack of paper towels.

He dishes up slices for the both of you, climbing into bed next to you and handing over yours.

He settles in with a content sigh.

You both eat in happy silence for a few minutes, Joel giving you a satisfied nod when he finishes up his first slice. “‘ts good,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.

“Right?” you retort. “It’s my favorite pizza around here.”

He hums in agreement. Pulls the box of sausage and pepper onto his lap to grab another slice.

“So,” you start, “you’re heading home tomorrow?” It’s more of a statement than a question. You know he is. But still, part of you wants Joel to say no, tell you that he’s canceled his flight, that he’s decided to stick around for a bit longer.

“Yeah,” he says. You feel your heart sink. You silently curse yourself for being delusional.

“Are you excited?” you try. “To be home?”

He doesn’t respond right away – his forehead wrinkling and his lips falling into a small frown. You watch as he thinks on it.

“Not really,” he admits after a few seconds.

“I know you’ll miss Sarah,” you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

He peers down at you with a heavy sigh. “So much…” His voice trails off, like there’s something else he wants to add, but can’t.

The air feels thick, suddenly – heavy. You try your best to lighten it.

“Can’t stay a bit longer? Let Tommy run things for a while?”

“No,” he laughs. “Pretty sure he’ll just end up screwin’ every client we got.”

“And you’d end up screwing every one of Sarah’s professors,” you tease.

His mouth falls open in mock-offense. He grabs at both your sides, suddenly, letting the open box of pizza slide off of his lap and onto the bed. He tickles relentlessly just under your ribs, causing you to squeal and squirm under his grip.

“Joel,” you cry in between fits of laughter. “Stop!”

“I don’t think so, darlin’,” he tuts. He removes one of hands momentarily, to toss your plate aside, and then he’s hooking one of his legs over your body, straddling you. He looks so big like this, his body hanging over yours. You feel content – safe. His hands release you, finally, coming to settle on either side of your head on your pillow. You blink up at him. He’s staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

“Nothin,” he mumbles. “‘ts just, I wouldn’t, ya know. Sleep with anyone else, I mean. If you didn’t want me to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know that if you respond, it’ll come out way too eager. So you just blink at him again.

“Would you want to keep talkin’ after I get home?”

Yes, you want to say. Please. I don’t think I could go on without knowing if I’ll get to see you again – fuck you again.

You swallow. Collect yourself.

“Yeah. I would.”

You shimmy under Joel so that you can sit up. He straightens out, shifting his weight onto his knees. Takes both of your hands in his and pulls you up.

His eyes are still locked on yours. “I know we just met this weekend,” he says. “But I had a lot’a fun with you. I like you.”

Your cheeks warm. “I like you too, Joel.”

He smiles. “‘m glad.”

“Doesn’t have to be anythin’ serious,” he continues. Lets his fingers trace aimlessly along the inside of your arm. “We can jus’ see where it goes.”

“Yeah,” you nod, your heart squeezing in your chest. “See where it goes. I like that.”

And it’s the truth. You do. In the stillness, your legs tucked under the covers, Joel caressing you, you feel, for the first time in a long time, happy to not be alone. And you know you will be again, very soon, when Joel leaves to go back home. But then again, you won’t – not really. His voice will be there, a phone call away, and his body will be there, in the divot he’s left in your mattress. And you’ll have the promise of taking this slow, seeing where it goes.

You’ve never been so excited for the future.

end notes: tysm for reading! I may turn this into a series if people want more of these two <3 lmk hehe

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