#The boss with hot sauce | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miniseokminnies · 2 months ago

Text

the subtle art of stirring the pot —- l.sm

⭑.ᐟ pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader ⭑.ᐟ theme: coworkers to lovers, annoyances to lovers, sous chef!seokmin ⭑.ᐟ w/c: 9k ⭑.ᐟ warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of food, stressful work environment, insults, jealousy, switch!seokmin, switch!reader, semi public make outs, protected sex (that's a yes yes), marking, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight angst, miscommunications ⭑.ᐟ a/n: written as part of the Lonely Hearts Café collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here send over some love! (haha get it) thanks a million to my lovely beta readers: @tomodachiii and @lovetaroandtaemin and a special shoutout to @seungkw1 for betaing and overall keeping me sane

Ring ring ring

The chaos of a kitchen is only aided by the sound of orders being put in. Saturdays are statistically the busiest days of the week, and being a restaurant in New York City, Quartz and Serenity is no exception. You had been frantically chopping carrots for the better part of an hour.

“Y/N!” The head chef called out to you, “Go get more mushrooms, chicken, and sherry for me please.” Without another word you jogged toward the walk in refrigerator to retrieve the ingredients. The last few years you’ve spent in this kitchen has allowed you to map it all out to a science, which in a way it was. You felt like a part of this well oiled machine and you handled the pressure with ease.

You piled the ingredients in your arms and pushed out of the walk in. You began to unpack the items on the counter next to the chef. He instructed you to take them out of their packages and begin chopping them for him. While the dinner service ran smoothly, there was an air of stress that always comes with being short staffed. You always pulled it off though, and tonight was no different.

The moment you crossed from the hallway into your apartment, you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes. You smelled like grease and sweat. The apartment was bathed in the yellow light above your stove you left on this morning. There were dishes in the sink and cook books stacked up around the kitchen.

Sighing, you dragged yourself to the bathroom. You dropped your chef’s coat into the laundry pile and waited for the water to get warm. Once hot, the water ran over you, loosening your tight muscles. You stood in the stall staring at the wall for several minutes, mind wandering to what ingredients you had in your refrigerator and whether or not you should just order something.

The water sputtered and threatened to turn cold all too quickly. You rushed through your routine, savoring the last few drops of warm water. It went straight from warm to ice cold in seconds as you were rinsing your conditioner out of your hair.

Clad in pajamas, you stared into the boiling water on the stove. You dumped probably too much pasta into the water and turned to the other burner. You mixed together ingredients in a pan over the fire to make a sauce. This was a typical meal for you after manning the kitchen at Quartz and Serenity because it was easy and not on the menu.

No matter how much you enjoyed cooking, you always tended to get tired of the food that you worked around all day. Customer complaints and repetitive pressure did that to you. You wouldn’t change a thing though, this is what you loved.

“Everyone!” You heard the booming voice of the head chef call through the kitchen, “I have someone to introduce you to!” The staff and yourself meandered to the center of the kitchen where Chef Choi was standing with a man you didn’t recognize. He was around your age, maybe a bit older. His features were so striking, you almost missed the chef’s coat he was wearing.

“This is Chef Lee,” your boss smiled, clapping the man on the back, “He is our new sous chef!” You didn’t hear anything he said after that, you felt like the walls were closing in on you. You could feel eyes on you but you stared straight ahead. You could feel your jaw tighten as you bored a hole into Chef Lee’s stupid head with your eyes.

Once you were dismissed back to your stations to prepare for dinner service you saw him hovering near your station out of the corner of your eye.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh!” He smiled sheepishly. “I just wanted to introduce myself to everyone individually! You can call me Seokmin.” “Okay, can I get back to what I need to do, Chef Lee?” You looked back to your knife.

“Uh, sure…what is your name first?”

“Y/N.” You gestured to the nametag pinned to your coat. He nodded and wandered away towards the wait staff. You rolled your eyes.

Throughout the night you were tasked with showing your new coworker the way things run at Quartz and Serenity and much to your displeasure, he was very excited to be there. Every so often he gave you room to breathe by floating around the kitchen, observing everything. However, everytime he returned to your side you thought you might punch him.

Somehow you made it through the dinner service. It wasn’t your turn to clean up the kitchen tonight so you bolted to the bus station as fast as possible. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone, knowing that you might get sucked into doing something with your coworkers.

Once on the bus you check your class schedule on your phone, only to realize with horror that you have a test tomorrow. Your stomach turned with the dread of having to be up all night studying, again.

—-

“Need any help with anything?” Seokmin’s sickly sweet voice offered at your side.

“No.” You were already on edge today, you made it through your test by the skin of your teeth and your professor made that abundantly clear. You had no time, or patience, for him right now.

“I saw you prep yesterday, I could do part of that for you,” he pushed.

“No thank you, Chef Lee.” You asserted through gritted teeth. “I would ask Chef Choi if I were you.” He slinked away like a kicked puppy while you continued chopping vegetables. It’s not your fault that he is completely out of his element and didn’t know what he was doing.

However, when orders came pouring in you noticed that his confidence seemed to double from last night. He was able to keep up with different elements, even without knowing the recipes very well yet.

The kitchen was louder than it had been in months, the new addition to your team taking it upon himself to fill the room with music, from his own mouth, to your dismay. You weren’t sure how much of his relentless optimism you could take, especially today. He floated around the kitchen with a carelessness that you would never be able to comprehend.

To your horror, at the end of the night Chef Choi announced that tonight was the most efficient night the restaurant has had in several weeks.

“You’re singing.” You deadpanned without looking up from the vegetables on your cutting board.

“Y/NNNNN” Seokmin mused, “How was your dayyy?”

“Don’t ask me how I’ve been.” You forced your knife through a carrot, “Just do your job, and stop singing.” There were exactly three seconds of silence before Seokmin moved from singing to humming. You slammed your knife down onto the cutting board. “I’m taking a five!” You huffed and turned toward the walk-in. Seokmin stopped humming.

The tears started as soon as the door closed behind you. Your back slid down the wall, the coldness biting through your clothes. It was stupid to cry, but you couldn’t help it; he was so infuriating. You had no idea what Chef Choi saw in him. The tears sliding down your cheeks smudged the swipe of mascara you put on this morning? Yesterday? Couldn’t have been more than two days ago…

The door opened.

“So, what’s up?” Seokmin asked softly, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh my god!” You cried, “Can’t you leave me alone for a single second?”

“I did,” he blinked at you, “If I had it my way, I would’ve followed right away.”

“I’m in here because of you!” Your voice cracked, a new bout of tears threatening to spill, “I would have loved it if you didn’t come in at all!”

“Well….technically, I’m…kind of your boss.”

“God, ew, no not really,” you scrunched your face in a look of disgust, “Chef Choi is our boss.”

“Y/N, what did I ever do to you?”

“The kitchen ran smoothly without you!” You informed him, “Everything was fine without you!”

“Now wait a minute,” there was an edge to his voice that you had never heard before, “I have never messed anything up.”

“Well–”

“No,” he cut you off, “Seriously, you may not like how I operate, that’s fine, but you aren’t going to sit here and tell me that I’m a problem in this kitchen.” His words were firm but it was hard to miss the tears swelling in his eyes.

“This is serious to me.” You hardened your gaze.

“And it isn’t to me?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“God,” He sighed. “Y/N, maybe this can be a lesson for you. No one is ever going to do things exactly as you expect them to. That doesn’t mean they’re wrong.” He stood up to leave.

“You can’t just walk away after you talked down to me!” You shot to your feet. “You think I’m some dumb kid!” He turned to look at you, you chose to ignore the glimmer of a tear on his cheek. “I’m at the top of my class! I know what I’m doing!”

“What are you trying to prove?” His voice rose now too, “I never said you didn’t know what you were doing! Do you want me to?” You blinked at him. “You couldn’t even julienne the carrots today! Why? All because I was singing?” He wiped the tear away from his skin angrily. He moved toward you and crowded you against the wall. The proximity forced you to look up at him, his face was stone. “What’s your problem with me, Y/N?” He whispered, looking down his nose at you. The cold of the refrigerator made the warm breath fanning across your cheeks even harder to ignore.

“We have a kitchen to get back to…” You tried to avoid looking at his lips.

“You don’t think I’m serious about this,” he planted his hand on the wall next to your head, “So does it matter if I get back to that kitchen?”

“You said I didn’t know what I’m doing! So I guess the kitchen doesn’t need either of us at this point!” You jutted your chin up defiantly. He chuckled sarcastically.

“You’re being so ridiculous right now, are you like this with every new hire?”

“No, only the ones I find irritating,” and incredibly attractive, your thoughts wandered. Rookie mistake, your eyes flit to his lips before you had time to think. When your eyes returned to his he was looking at you, absolutely bewildered. Then, in one swift motion he smashed his lips to yours. The way he kissed you was just as angry as the way he was talking to you moments ago; his lips moved with a fervor that was almost malicious.

Your fingers found the front of his chef’s coat, you attempted to pull him closer. He whined into your mouth at the feeling of being wanted. The sound awakened something in you and heat settled in your stomach. You shifted your weight trying to ignore it. Seokmin nudged you with his knee until you parted your legs slightly for him to slot his thigh between. He was firm and muscular pressed against your core and it took everything in you to not rock against it.

With a jolt you remembered where you were and who you were with. You pushed against his chest until he moved away from you. Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Seokmin seemed as though he realized the same thing.

“Come out when you're ready,” he nodded and left the walk-in without looking back. You tightened your ponytail and took a deep breath before following him out. You returned to your station and picked up the knife you abandoned before the ordeal. “Thin as matchsticks, Y/N.” Seokmin reminded you through kiss-bruised lips.

“Table 13 sends its compliments to the chef!” Soonyoung comes barreling into the kitchen carrying plates to deposit into the wash.

“That was the last table right?” Seokmin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yup!” Soonyoung popped the “P” and punctuated the exclamation by dumping the dishes he was carrying into the sink. You had the day off and Seokmin felt the pressure of your absence throughout the entire day.

The encounter he had with you was heavy on his mind all day, the first day he’s spent in this kitchen without you by his side. He still couldn’t figure out what it was that he could have possibly done to you in the short time you’ve worked together.

“Hey Soonyoung?” He called without thinking. Soonyoung turned to him with a questioning look on his face. “You’ve been here a while right?” “Yeah, why?” Soonyoung reached around Seokmin and grabbed at the carrots, earning him a slap on the hand. He winced and pulled his hand to his chest.

“Can you think of any reason Y/N would dislike me?”

“Hm? Y/N?” Soonyoung mumbled, “Oh! The scary one. Yeah I try not to talk to her much.”

“Because she scares you?” “Because she scares me.” Soonyoung nodded.

“She wanted your job.” One of the waitresses, Jeongyeon, asserted from the doorway. Seokmin switched his attention to her, almost begging her to clarify. She sighed and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “She’s about to graduate, the position was vacant for so long that she was under the impression that Chef Choi had decided to hold it for her.” Seokmin moved across the kitchen to beg her to tell him everything.

“Why would she assume that?” He pleaded.

“You have no idea how long your position was vacant, do you?” She turned to leave, “She was acting as unofficial sous chef for almost a year. In her opinion there’s no reason she shouldn’t have your job by now, diploma or not.” He looked down at the floor. "Oh, and stop looking at her with those puppy dog eyes, she'll chop your fingers off."

Eventually, Seokmin dragged himself home. His apartment felt too big, too empty. He wished he could stop thinking about you, if he was honest. He stared into his pantry and quickly decided he had no desire to actually cook. He popped an instant ramen into the microwave and went to go change his clothes.

The microwave was beeping four minutes later, he pulled the cup out and narrowly avoided burning his hand on the outside. He set the ramen on the counter and dug through the refrigerator in search of something to drink. There was not a lot to be found, besides a full pack of wine coolers he bought weeks ago in hopes he could invite some people from work over to celebrate working together, clearly that never happened.

About two hours later, Seokmin was crying to the credits of Dear Evan Hansen with five empty wine coolers on his coffee table and a sixth to his lips. Whether he was crying over the movie or something else entirely, he wasn’t sure.

He still couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to you, he had new information to mull over, but he still couldn’t understand why you hated him. He would’ve talked it over with you if you just came to him with the issue instead of giving him the silent treatment. Even worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his.

Your lips and the warmth of your body against his had been running through his mind since it happened. He continued to sip from the bottle as he thought about you. He admired you in a way, so headstrong and willing to go after what you wanted, even if that got him yelled at. He didn’t really care, he realized you were pretty even when you were insulting him.

Soon the bottle was empty and Seokmin’s eyes were closed thinking about your mouth. He knew he would never live it down if you knew, but that didn’t stop him from delivering the soft initial touches over his shorts. Eventually pulling them down, letting his semi hard cock spring free, and pumping himself until he was stiff.

His voice surprised him, sounding foreign to his ears, whispering your name to his empty apartment. Everything became muffled as he heard the blood rushing in his ears, he felt his own hips sputter and he picked up his pace, fucking up into his hand. He thought about the pretty way you said his name with an edge to your voice and he was quickly undone.

You pushed the french fries around in the basket, the parchment paper soaking up the grease they left behind. You barely got three bites into your burger before you felt sick again and resorted to just pretending to eat. Maybe an entire bottle of wine to yourself last night and sleeping until 1 pm was not your best idea, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

You checked the time, you have to be at work in a little over an hour, and you knew you had to eat something for your stomach to stop swirling. You sighed and picked up the burger again, and took a bite. Your body tried to protest but eventually you felt your stomach calming, thankful to have food. You laid your head back onto the back of the booth and closed your eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths.

“Rough night?” You cracked an eye open to see Seokmin standing over you, a basket matching yours in hand. “Me too,” he lifted his basket in a gesture of comradery. “May I sit?” You nodded, not having the energy to argue with him over it. You sat up and studied his face briefly. He had bags under his eyes like you, his hair was more askew than normal, and he was wearing the biggest hoodie you had ever seen.

“What got you so hung up?” You asked, selecting another fry from your basket.

“Oh,” he didn’t look at you, “I just have a lot on my mind, you?”

“You.” His eyes snapped to you, clearly surprised by your boldness.

“What?” He sputtered around a mouthful of his burger.

“I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve annoyed someone to the point of drowning in alcohol.”

“I mean, maybe,” he dropped the burger into the basket, “but no one has ever been so bold as to tell me outright…”

“Are you pouting right now?” Seokmin crossed his arms over his chest at your words, once again refusing to look at you. “See!” You scoff, “this is what I mean, you get everything you want and when someone calls you out on your bullshit you can’t handle it!” You pushed your food away from you with a huff.

“I get everything I want?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “You know I graduated from culinary school, just like you’re about to?” He leaned his elbows on the table, getting closer to you. “I worked hard to get where I am, and I was hired because I come highly complimented from previous bosses.”

“What is this? Your resume?”

“Let me show you, come to dinner with me on Thursday, we both have the day off”

“So you can brag?”

“No,” he cracked a smile. “So we can get to know each other better, and maybe put this behind us.”

You stared up at the facade of the restaurant. This building had been your dream for years, since you moved to the city. Now, because of Seokmin, you were able to dine here? It almost doesn't seem fair.

“Hey!” Seokmin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Sorry I’m late; I hope you weren’t waiting long!” You turned to him and shook your head. “Oh good, shall we?” He ushered you inside, lightly touching the small of your back. You tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach at the small gesture.

Once inside, he let his hand drop but stayed close to you. He leaned around you to speak to the man at the host stand. “Table for two, the name Lee should be on your list?” The man flipped through a few sheets of paper before stopping to read through a short list of names. Seokmin’s hand returned to your back, pushing you to follow the man through the restaurant.

The decor was almost enough to distract you from the warmth of Seokmin spreading through your body as he pressed his hand against you more firmly. The ornate light fixtures bathed the room in a soft light, making everything feel more dreamlike and romantic.

Seokmin pulled out your chair for you as the host was informing the two of you that a waiter would be with you soon. As Seokmin took his seat, you had a moment to take him in. You had never seen him wearing anything besides his chef’s coat. He had the sleeves of his collared shirt rolled up, showing off his watch and his toned arms.

“See anything you like?”

“What?” Your eyes widened, and a blush creeped up your cheeks. He pushes a menu towards you.

“Anything?” He smiles, choosing not to bring attention to your obvious staring. You shoved your face into the menu and began to study it intently. After a few minutes of silence the waiter provided glasses of water and a promise to return in a few minutes to take your orders. You laid your menu flat on the table and looked up at Seokmin.

“What do you like?” You asked sheepishly. He chuckled to himself and set his menu down.

“Well,” he pointed at the wine selection, “I was going to order us wine. Do you like white or red?”

“White, usually,”

“Okay, so,” he looked at you over his glasses, “you know enough about wine pairings to know what dishes a white wine rules out.” You nodded. “They have a lovely creamy pumpkin penne dish that pairs nicely with chardonnay, and we could share a brie sampler for an appetizer?”

“Honestly, that sounds wonderful,” you smile at him. You let him order everything for the two of you. He lets the silence linger for a few minutes while you wait for your wine. Once the glasses are poured, and he’s confident no one will bother you for a while, he breaks the silence he crafted.

“You’re much more shy outside of the kitchen,” he observed.

“I’m out of my depth,” you admitted quietly. He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine, inviting you to go on. “I’ve been waiting to eat here since I moved to New York, and you just happen to have your name permanently on the list?”

“I know the chef,” he muttered into his wine.

“I know how highly qualified you are,” you informed him, “you’re experienced out of the ears and I’m just some kid in culinary school.”

“Well,” he tipped his glass forward to clink it with yours, “you can legally drink, so you’re not a kid.” He watched you smile, “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re really talented.”

“Oh don’t say stuff like that to me,” you rolled your eyes and picked up your wine glass, “You might get me to come around to you.”

“Oh God forbid, we can’t have that.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Seokmin was frantically moving through the kitchen. “Dinner service starts in 40 minutes, why aren’t any of you telling me where Y/N is?”

“She’s in the dining room, damn…”

Seokmin knew that you closed the restaurant last night, opened this morning, and the two of you were closing together tonight. So, when he found you asleep in a booth in the dining room, he wasn’t surprised. You often used the few hours Quartz and Serenity was closed between breakfast and dinner to catch up on studying.

Your head was resting on your arms, your ponytail was loose and strands of hair were falling in your face. He reached to brush them away from your eyes but stopped short when he read the papers under your hand. Application for Employment. He read it over and over with his hand hovering above your head. He felt his stomach drop so fast he was afraid it would fall out of his ass.

Taking a deep breath he let his hand settle on top of your head. He rubbed your hair softly with his thumb for a few moments, hoping that you would wake up. When you didn’t stir, he moved his hand to your shoulder and shook you lightly.

“Y/N,” he leaned closer to you. Your eyes opened slowly. “Hey,” he smiled, “dinner service starts in 30. I would let you sleep, but we need the table.” You jolted upright at his words, knocking his hand back to his side.

“In 30?!” You began to shuffle your papers back into the folder and snapped your book closed, “why didn’t anyone grab me sooner?” Seokmin didn’t have time to answer before you were breezing past him toward the kitchen. He watched you until you disappeared into the back room, agonizing over what he would do if you actually left Quartz and Serenity.

The entire dinner service was spent the same way, Seokmin becoming flustered when you assisted him. If he was being honest with himself, he would be impressed with how easily you were able to bounce back to routine. It was almost as if the hiccup from before didn’t even happen.

You moved through this kitchen like you’ve been in it your entire life, Seokmin truly could not imagine this place without you. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he didn’t want this kitchen to run without you. But you deserved to run a restaurant in his opinion. He wanted you to call the shots and to be successful, even if that meant he and Chef Choi would be competing against you after your graduation. Then it hit him; he also wanted to be selfish and hide you away for himself.

“Can’t you move any faster?” You shoved a soapy dish towards Seokmin. The two of you were the only people left in the building after a successful Sunday. You were eager to get home and sleep after the worst lineup of shifts. You picked up a shift from a coworker because you desperately needed the money, but you didn’t think ahead to how your bones would ache after it all.

“If you would rinse the soap off I could,” he sighed. He pulled the faucet head toward the dish in your hand, spraying you lightly with the water.

“Seokmin!” You squealed in annoyance. Grabbing the faucet back from him, you angled it towards him. The water rolled off his exposed forearms, his coat sleeves long pushed up over his elbows. He raised an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge. He plunged his hands into the sink filled with soapy water and splashed it up onto your coat.

It wasn’t like you to sink to his level. Any other day, you would put a stop to this, get the dishes done, and go straight home. However, you’re not stupid and didn’t miss a single look in your direction through the entire day. Seokmin looked at you like a lovesick puppy everytime. Something about those looks lit a fire in your belly, and you didn’t care to find out if it was anger or interest.

So, you followed suit. You cupped your hands around a gaggle of bubbles, lifted it high above your head and smoothed the soap into his dark hair. He stood motionless for a moment, looking down at you in disbelief as his hair dripped onto the floor. Finally, he swiped his hands through his wet hair, slicking it back and exposing his forehead. Somehow it seemed like his features became more sharp and striking with his hair pushed away. Your eyes followed the sharp slope of his nose down to his lips and back to his dark eyes.

He moved toward you quietly. The tension hung thick in the air. He cupped your jaw with his wet hands, eventually moving to thread suds through your ponytail. Any part of him that thought he might kiss you was dampened by the water you suddenly hurled out of the sink at that exact moment. He yelped and moved away from you.

“We have dishes to finish, Chef Lee.” You smirked. The dishes in question were finished and dried in complete silence. The water and the clattering of the glass were the only sounds in the room.

“Let me take you home,” Seokmin broke the silence.

“What?” You gaped at him.

“No…” A blush creeped up his neck, “not like that. You take the bus, right?” You nodded at him. “You’re all wet, just let me drive you to your place.”

“You don’t have to do that…”

“I know,” he smiled sheepishly, “but I want to, please?”

Somehow, he convinced you. You were panicked, too panicked to even make fun of him for being the kind of person who lived in New York City and owned a car. He passed his phone over to you and instructed you to put your address into the maps app.

The ride was silent, your leg bounced as you watched the location get closer and closer. You nearly threw yourself out of the car when he parked in front of the building.

“Bye! See you Tuesday!” You blurted as you ran towards the lobby of the building. Seokmin waved, confused, at the back of your head.

“You need to stop telling people you live here.” The front desk attendant deadpanned.

“I know, Jane,” you ducked to spy out the window.

“Who is it this time? Bad date?” Jane was used to you showing up in her lobby every few weeks at this point. You were lucky that she loved to gossip or else she would have banned you from the building months ago.

“Ugh, no,” you watched Seokmin’s car pull away from the curb, “My coworker.”

“Why do you care if your coworker knows where you live?”

“Honestly?” You stood up and moved toward her desk, “I’m not sure…”

“Hm,” she holds out a lollipop to you, “might want to unpack that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you unwrap the candy and pop it into your mouth, “whatever.” You exit the building with a wave and begin the short walk to your actual apartment.

“Red wine this time.” Seokmin declared as you slid into your chair.

“Feeling bold today are we?”

“Well,” he chuckled, “It’s a steakhouse, so we have to pair correctly!” This was the second installment of what Seokmin had started calling Seokmin's Surely Spectacular Suggestions . You were starting to realize that he knows a lot more than you thought he did. He always seemed to know someone at every restaurant, if not multiple people.

“Oh my god!” A woman’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up and the waitress was smiling at Seokmin. “It is so nice to see you!”

“Oh!” Seokmin smiled widely at her, “I didn’t think you worked on Thursdays!”

“Ugh!” She put her hand on her hip, “I don’t usually! Dosie needed the day off and as a good friend I took the shift.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. You watched Seokmin’s face contort into a laugh. Something panged in your chest watching them laugh together. Suddenly, you were extremely interested in the menu in front of you as you tried not to think about what that could possibly mean. Seokmin and the waitress chatted for several more minutes before she bounced away. She never looked in your direction the entire time she was at the table.

“Ordered us wine, hope that’s okay.” Seokmin knocked on the table in front of you to get your attention. You hummed affirmatively. “What’s wrong? Have you decided you hate me again?”

“No,” You didn’t look at him. You felt him stare at you from across the table, you held strong and did not look up from the menu. It didn’t matter that you had read the words 8 oz wagyu beef steak and garlic potatoes six times, you couldn’t look at him.

The same waitress from earlier came back with your wine and a basket of bread. She placed everything down on the table and turned to Seokmin again.

“Are you ready to order?” She smiled.

“No, we need a few minutes.” You snapped before you had time to stop yourself. Seokmin shifted his gaze to you.

“Oh, uh…okay.” The waitress blinked at you and turned on her heel without a second look.

“What was that?” Seokmin was looking at you like you had grown a second head at some point in the last thirty seconds.

“Nothing, she was pushy.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“No she wasn’t.”

“She was!” You finally looked at him, he looked like a confused puppy, “You just didn’t see it because she was flirting with you.”

“What are you talking abo–” His face contorted into a smirk, “Are you jealous?” He dropped his voice to a whisper.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You declared, pushing out of your chair. You all but stomped all the way to the bathroom, mentally cursing yourself for being jealous in the first place. A hand encircled your wrist as you turned the corner to the hallway that housed the bathrooms. You turned to find Seokmin latched on to you. He pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door behind you. Looking him up and down he looked almost as shocked at his own actions as you felt.

“Were you jealous?” He whispered, “I have to know, because if you don’t tell me it’ll eat me alive for the rest of my life.” You couldn’t help but think he was being just a little dramatic. You slotted your hand into the hair on the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours anyway.

It took him a few moments to respond properly. When his brain caught up to what was happening he kissed you back hungrily. His lips moved roughly and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you as close as possible and swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You deepened the kiss and allowed him to explore further with his tongue.

Seokmin had a way of putting every emotion he was feeling into his actions, it was evident when he kissed you angrily weeks ago, and it was evident now. It felt like weeks of anger and bickering had melted off the two of you and now what was left was want and attraction that was left unsaid.

He detached himself from your mouth and moved to kiss over your pulse point. You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back to give him better access. Experimentally, he sucked gently on the skin below your ear, earning him a quiet moan. He did it again.

“Let’s go home,” he panted into your skin. “Please.”

“Seokmin we’ve only had wine,” you whispered

“I’ll make you pizza at home, I don’t care, I just need you.” He whined.

—-

Seokmin fumbled with the key to his apartment, his thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. Finally, he unlocked the door and ushered you inside. You tried not to think about the fact that his apartment was about double the size of yours. He kissed you again once he had the door locked and you both inside. His hands found your hips and he pulled you closer as he was licking into your mouth. He tasted like wine, the same one you knew was on your lips as well.

“You owe me pizza, Chef Lee..” You whispered, breaking away from his desperate mouth.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he groaned, “I can make pizza with my eyes closed.” His confidence was attractive, it was rare for him to be cocky like that.

“You didn’t buy me dinner, and I’m a lady.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes before grabbing and lifting you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his trim waist. You yelped in surprise, you had no idea he could do that. He plopped you down on the kitchen island and moved to the other countertop. You watched as he rolled out pizza dough. His arm muscles bulged as he put in effort to flatten it. “Not even homemade dough?” You teased, “Some chef!”

He sent you a glare out of the corner of his eye, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away. Suddenly it clicked, “oh my god, do you get turned on when I’m mean to you?” You smirked.

“Shut up…” Seokmin muttered while opening the pizza sauce.

“Well…better hurry that prep…” You smiled wickedly, spreading your legs. Seokmin glanced over at you and nearly moaned at the sight of your panties under your dress. He frantically pressed the buttons to preheat the oven. Once the pizzas were ready to be put in the oven he slotted himself between your legs and captured your lips once more.

You guided his hand to your breast and encouraged him to squeeze. He placed his other hand on your exposed thigh. He trailed his fingers slowly up and up towards your center until the oven beeped. He groaned and ran over to place the pans in the oven and set the timer.

“Take your pants off.” You stated simply when he turned back to you. He nodded and stumbled out of his jeans, the thin fabric of his briefs left little to the imagination as he was hard by this point. He moved toward you and you ran a hand over his clothed cock, he hissed at the contact.

“One second,” He blurted before disappearing down the hall. You contemplated touching yourself while he was gone, but he returned in a rush before you had the chance. He wiggled a small foil package in his fingers to show you why he left.

“Who said you could hit?”

“I–well I just figured…”

“I was about to start without you just now, I could still do that.” You could tell that Seokmin was weighing his options, knowing it would be so hot to see you get yourself off, but needing the feeling of being inside you.

“No, no!” He sputtered, “I got you!” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to your clothed cunt.

“Prove it.”

He started slowly, the pads of his fingers circling your clit through your panties. His lips attached to the sensitive skin below your ear. He kissed the skin slowly, letting his teeth graze your neck every so often. He hooked his thumbs under your underwear and pulled them off gingerly, letting them flutter to the floor.

He ran his fingers through your folds, savoring the wetness there just for him. Experimentally he slipped a finger inside, earning him an arch of your back and a sound so delicious it could be the only thing he heard for the rest of his life and he would be happy.

“C’mere,” he grunted, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it. He moved you to the edge of the counter and inserted a second finger. You couldn’t help but rock your hips against his ruminations. He reached that delicious spot inside of you and you felt yourself hurtling off the cliff. “You talk a big game, but you’re so desperate for me.” Seokmin snaked his free hand over his cock, teasing himself as he finger fucked you into an orgasm.

Once you came back to Earth he slowly removed his fingers. Before he had the chance to wash them off, you took his hand and guided his fingers into your mouth. He watched with wonder as your tongue swirled around his digits, cleaning them. You pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting you to him.

“Who’s desperate now?” You breathed watching him continue to tease himself over his briefs.

“Can I please fuck you?” He whined. You helped him out of his briefs, you watched his cock spring free, the tip red and angry. You leaned down and thumbed his leaking slit, earning you a delicious moan. You spread the mess down his shaft.

He opened the condom with his teeth, you watched as he rolled it down. He pulled you to the edge of the counter again and lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust. The stretch was delicious. He slowly began to thrust, whining in the process.

“You’re so warm,” he cried. You felt every inch of him as he slid in and out of you. His hands anchored you to the countertop as you draped your arms across his back. Seokmin found his rhythm once you wrapped your legs around his waist, he felt so surrounded by you. He swore he could live with you wrapped around him for the rest of his life.

“Why didn’t you fuck me in the restaurant?” You breathed. His hips stuttered for a moment.

“In public?” He bit his lip.

“Yeah?” You swiped a hand through his hair and gave it a tug. He moaned into the crook of your neck.

“I uh-” He whined, “I didn’t think-I don’t know?” “Oh you really can’t think when your dick’s busy, huh?” He whined into your neck again, the vibrations and the warm air fanning against your skin left goosebumps behind. Seokmin’s hands trailed down from your hips to your thighs and he began to knead your soft skin with his nimble fingers.

You leaned your head back, enjoying the feeling of him all over you, inside of you. With better access to you he experimentally captured your skin between his teeth. Your sounds spurred him on and encouraged him to begin sucking and biting a bruise into your skin. With this your hips bucked up to meet his thrusts.

The idea of being marked by Seokmin would have appalled you just a few weeks ago, but now you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the idea of people knowing you have had him like this. Like that stupid waitress. “She wanted you.” You muttered between moans.

“What?” Seokmin breathed into your skin.

“That waitress, she wanted you.”

“Oh well.” Seokmin bit you again. He was marking you, even after you told him that another woman wanted him like this. The coil in your stomach threatened to snap at that alone. You could envision yourself falling off the edge soon. Seokmin was still massaging the underside of your thighs, pinning your legs around his waist. Suddenly everything was overwhelming, everything was him. You felt like fireworks were setting off inside you. He continued rolling his hips into you through your orgasm. Shortly after he was releasing into the condom, moans rattled your throat the entire time.

He pulled back to look at you, his eyelids were heavy over his eyes, his lips puffy. Before either of you had the chance to say anything the oven beeped. Seokmin’s eyes grew wide, both of you obviously forgot about the pizza.

“Get your dick out of me and turn that off!” You laughed. He nodded and slowly pulled out of you. You watched him slap the off button on the oven, trying not to laugh at him being naked from the waist down.

Once both of you were cleaned up and clothed, Seokmin cut the pizza and put it on plates. You were waiting on his couch, dressed head to toe in his clothes. To him you looked like a dream.

“Stay the night.” He handed you your plate and sat down next to you.

“No.” You stated simply, picking up a piece of pizza. After several seconds of silence you looked up at him, he was looking at you dumbfounded. “We have work tomorrow.”

“I’ll drive you!”

“And walk past Jeongyeon after showing up with you and smelling like sex? No thanks.”

“You can shower here, I’ll even walk in ten minutes later, please?” He looked like a puppy again.

“I don’t have my work clothes, and no yours won’t fit me.” You gestured towards his clothes that were far too big on you.

“There’s extras, you know that.”

“Fine…” You wouldn’t mind showering in a nice apartment for a change. “You walk in fifteen minutes after me, and you shower with me.” “You have a deal!”

Finals week was upon you. The only week out of the year that work came second to school, you were so close to graduation you just had to make it through a week of practical exams. You were confident in your ability to pass but your mind was elsewhere most of the time.

You wondered how the kitchen was fairing without you, how Seokmin was doing without you. As much as you hated to admit it, he did know what he was doing, but being absent was eating at you. You flipped through the pages of your textbook without reading a single word wishing you could pick up your phone and hear about the days you’ve missed.

Across town Seokmin was doing just about as well, he knew your name wasn’t on the schedule and he was dying to know where you were. He was chopping carrots to have for dinner service when he decided to go straight to your apartment tonight. He didn’t care if he had to get on his knees and beg the woman at the desk to tell him your apartment number.

He all but sprinted out to his car once the kitchen was clean for the following day. He parked on the curb in front of the building after the short drive. He practiced what he was going to say to the woman at the desk on his way into the lobby. He took a deep breath and approached her.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Y/F/N Y/L/N!” He blurted. “She hasn’t been to work in a few days, she isn’t scheduled but she didn’t tell me she wouldn’t be here and I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong and I–” The woman was laughing. Sure he went off script, but how would she know? He looked at her, confused.

“She doesn’t live here.” Now he wasn’t expecting that.

“What?”

“I told her this would happen eventually, somebody would come looking for her and I would have to be the one to break it to them.” She sighed.

“She just…lies to people?”

“Yeah all the time.” She began digging in her desk for something. “You said you worked with her?” “Yeah, I dropped her off here after work once…so I just thought..” Seokmin rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“Oh you’re the one she was weird about!” “What?” “What? Nothing.” She began scribbling something on a slip of paper. “Here, this is her address, tell her Jane sent you.” She handed him the paper and two lollipops.

��-

A cautious knock rang through your apartment, which was confusing considering no one knew where you lived. You unfolded yourself from the couch and padded to the door. Seokmin was standing in the hallway and you almost slammed the door in his face.

“What are you doing here?” You almost shrieked. He held up two lollipops silently. “Fuck, okay, uh…come in.” You stepped to the side allowing him entrance. He shuffled past you, seeing another person standing in your tiny apartment was odd to say the least.

“Hi,” Seokmin offered quietly while you were intently staring at the ground. “It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m sorry my apartment is gross and cluttered and small.” You muttered. Seokmin looked around the apartment. The cookbooks in the kitchen were piled almost as high as the refrigerator, the pink throw blanket on the couch made him smile, seeing a softness that no one else gets to see. The living room was bathed in lamp light that made the shadows in the room look exaggerated and long. The apartment was uniquely you and he loved it.

“What?” He chuckled, “I don’t care what your apartment looks like, is this why you lied?” Your head snapped up at him calling you out so directly.

“I never lied, I told you to drop me off there, not that I lived there.” You pointed out. He gave you a look. “I didn’t lie.”

“Sure, maybe not,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, Seokmin had never seen you at a loss for words like this.

“Look,” he took your hand, “that’s not why I’m here, it doesn’t matter.” You led him to the couch, moving the open textbook so that he could sit down. Seeing him sitting on your couch was strange, seeing him here was not something you thought you would ever see. “Are you okay?” He blurted out.

“What?” You were taken aback, “of course, I’m fine.”

“You just haven’t been to work in a few days and after…the activities at my apartment I thought maybe you hated me, and–” “Woah!” You smiled, “why would I hate you? Seokmin, I took the week off to focus on finals week.”

“Oh.” He looked at you sheepishly. “Uh, well, how are they going?” You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll pass, I miss work though.” You shrugged.

“Just work?” “No, I miss the way Soonyoung runs out of the kitchen when he sees me.”

“Oh…” He dropped his gaze dejectedly. “Hey!” He exclaimed as your fist connected with his arm.

“I miss you, dumb ass.” “So you didn’t quit?” “No,” you looked at him, confused. “You know you could have asked literally anyone where I was, right?”

“No one was talking about it! I thought we were all super sad about you quitting! I don’t know!” He gestured wildly with his hands. “And…ugh, okay, you remember that one day like a month ago? When you were asleep in the dining room and I woke you up?”

“Yeah?” “I, uh, I saw what you were working on…the job applications.” He lowered his volume as if he was afraid you would explode. “I thought you might’ve just up and left, you never liked me anyway, so you didn’t really have any reason to let me know.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “I’m sorry…” “Tell me you’ve changed your mind, you’re not leaving us.” “Seokmin….”

“Is it because of me?”

“Maybe at first,” You started, you could see the tears well up in his eyes. “But now…if anything you’ve made it harder to leave.”

“Where are you going?” He met your eyes again. You reached out to swipe the tears that managed to escape.

“I have a few offers, I don’t know yet.”

“Of course you do,” he laughed sadly, took hold of your wrists,and rubbed the back of your hands with his thumbs. “You’re so talented any restaurant would be stupid to not offer you a job.”

“That’s not what you said a few months ago.” You pointed out.

“Well, you know how to julienne the carrots now.”

“Hey!” You tried to push him away but he held you in place. He glanced at your lips before leaning in to kiss you. He kissed you softly, his lips tasted vaguely of salt and honey chapstick. He let himself linger without deepening the kiss until he suddenly pulled back, looking panicked.

“Those offers are for sous chef positions right?”

“Of course they are, watch out, Chef Lee.”

Three years later

You stretch out on your couch after making the most of your day off. With your recent promotion to head chef at Diamond you haven’t had a lot of time to relax. With your new hectic schedule you were shocked that you were able to make it the entire day without getting a single call about the restaurant.

A hand squeezed your calf gently. You hummed at the contact.

“I’ll make dinner tonight, love.” Seokmin mumbled sleepily from the other end of the couch.

“No.” You stated simply.

“Um, why not?”

“‘The only thing worse than the tacky decor at Quartz and Serenity is the incompetence of the kitchen. If you’re looking for the exact opposite of what you asked for, this is the restaurant for you.’” You rattled off.

“What are you doing?” Seokmin sat up, knocking your legs off the couch.

“‘I would give them zero stars if I could!’” You stared at him, “‘I ordered a steak and it came out barely cooked at all! Will not be returning!’”

“Okay! In my defense on that one, she ordered a well done steak!” He threw his hands up. “Who does that?”

“MichelleJo1965, obviously.” You deadpanned.

“When did you have time to dig through our Yelp reviews?” Seokmin scoffed, “I didn’t realize dating the competition meant I would have to defend myself at home.”

“Step up your game, Head Chef Lee.” You shrugged. “But seriously? She ordered a well done steak?”

“She did! It’s not my fault she has no taste.” He shrugged. “By the way I have plenty of great reviews, and I seem to remember my girlfriend really liking my cooking.” “You’re alright, I guess.” You shrugged. “When are you going to ask me by the way?”

“What?” He tried to stay calm, you could be talking about anything, certainly not the ring that has been staring at him from under his underwear for the last six months.

“You really need to figure out where to hide things where I won’t find them” Wordlessly Seokmin got up from the couch and stomped into your shared bedroom. For a split second you thought you might have pushed too far until he returned with the small velvet box.

“I hope you at least left me one secret, you didn’t look at it did you?” He smiled sheepishly.

“No, Min, I have no idea what it looks like, swear.”

“Good,” to your surprise he sank down to one knee, right there in the living room. “You never were good at leaving well enough alone, I had a grander plan, but this seems much more our speed, huh?” You laughed. “Will you marry me, even if my Yelp reviews suck sometimes?” He popped the small box open to reveal a ring.

“Of course I will, you idiot.”

579 notes · View notes

mister0ctopus · 3 months ago

Text

Server Room (4)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 4.4K

a/n: sorry for the delay, ive been feeling meh these past few weeks. i couldnt do anything, but i got out of the house yesterday and it was great 😌

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6

“We haven’t seen you in a while!"

Taehyung announces, his full voice cutting through your frantic typing. “This project is keeping you from us,”

You swivel in your chair, blinking as you return to the real world, and you see Taehyung pouting and Jimin, holding out a cup of coffee like an angel of mercy.

"Your boss is always giving you hard projects with tight deadlines!" Jimin states, as he hands you the coffee his irritation seeping through the smile.

“Thanks,” you mouthed. One sip of the caffeine reminded you that you’d been glued to this chair since morning with no breaks. Your legs probably forgot how to walk.

"Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying! She’s either obsessed with you or trying to kill you," Taehyung chimes in, crossing his arms. “Or both. She doesn’t do this to anyone else on your team. Tell me this is your villain arc.”

You sigh as you stretch your back. "I’m the only senior left in the team, okay? After Mr. Tan resigned, all his VIP clients became mine. I don’t really have a choice."

"You need a break," Taehyung declared. "Let’s try that new place across the street for lunch. Jungkook says they serve the best Mexican food."

Ah, Jungkook.

The name pulls at something in your chest. You cleared your throat.

"Since when are you into Mexican food? You don't like spicy.”

He grins, unbothered. "I can skip the hot sauce. But Jungkook says it’s legit, and he doesn’t lie about food."

"Seems like you’re becoming besties with him," you say, keeping your voice casual.

"Oh, he’s great! Always chill, fun to be around. Knows all the best spots for food!” He turns to Jimin for validation, and they high-five.

"I think I’ll pass," you said, taking a sip of the coffee. "I really need to finish this today. You guys go and let me know if it’s worth the hype."

Jimin frowns, his eye smile turning into a pout. "You sure? You’ve been working non-stop. It’s not healthy, YN. Take a break!"

You glance at the screen, the cursor blinking like it’s mocking you.

"I promise,” you replied, your voice softer. “I will," knowing full well that you wouldn’t.

You decided to take your lunch later than everyone else, choosing the quiet solitude of the office cafeteria at off-peak hours. Ordering something light, you sat in a corner, hoping to catch a moment of peace.

But peace? Lol.

Staring blankly at your mug, you tried to turn your brain off, but the week’s events replayed on a loop—meetings, deadlines, late nights. And, of course, the project. Your golden ticket to the promotion you’d been breaking your back for.

You were halfway through your sandwich when muffled giggles from the table next to you pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Curiosity got the better of you, and you glanced over, only to see a group of girls from HR, eyes sparkling with admiration. Following their line of sight, you landed on him.

Jungkook.

Effortlessly charming as usual, chatting with a girl from Marketing. His raven hair styled to show his forehead. His smile was so easy and disarming it could probably convince a cat to take a bath.

Fuck. Why was he getting hotter?

You hadn’t seen him since the night he dropped you off a few days ago, your entire interaction limited to his car radio and your yawns. You’d been so exhausted you didn’t even have time to process his stupidly perfect profile in the dim glow of his dashboard, and his glances here and there.

The girl laughed, leaning in closer, completely captivated.

Yeah, girl. I get it.

You got it. Of course, Jungkook wasn’t just attractive, he had that rare ability to make everyone around him feel seen, like they mattered.

He had helped you many times, and you couldn’t deny that he made you feel important.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a scoff. "Lunch with my friends, now wooing the entire company.”

Of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, his gaze flicked in your direction.

Caught!

You panicked and snapped your attention back to your table, hyper-focusing on the crumbs scattered across your plate.

Back to work, you reminded yourself. Stop dilly-dallying. Deadlines don’t meet themselves.

Without sparing another glance, you stood, your chair scraping lightly against the tile floor. With purposeful steps, you left the cafeteria, your focus already shifting back to the mountain of tasks waiting at your desk.

Hours later, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of the depths of your typing. The buzzing continued, and when it started to feel too annoying, you finally checked to see what all the fuss was about.

You had been added to a group chat: CABIN IN THE LAKE.

Oh, right! The annual cabin trip. That chaotic tradition where you and the group rent the same cozy Airbnb cabin, always timed perfectly for a three-day weekend, thanks to the holiday on Monday.

It started as Jimin and Taehyung’s tradition. Best friends since college, they used to rally their old friend group for Tae’s birthday back when no one was married, living abroad, or caught up in other life changes. But life stole their original squad, leaving just the two of them clinging to their precious tradition.

Enter: the work friends.

First, there was Yoongi. No one knew how Jimin and Taehyung managed to convince him to join. He initially declined, calling it a hassle, but then showed up ridiculously early on the day they were set to leave. Next came Allie, the organizational queen who meticulously planned everything down to the last detail on Excel sheets. And finally, there was you—the corporate masochist roped in because, apparently, you 'needed a break.' They weren’t wrong, of course.

Now, three years later, it had become your thing.

Allie: 📢 Attention: Our annual cabin escape kicks off this weekend. Prepare yourselves, pack early, and leave the burdens of work behind. NO work allowed at the cabin. @ YN, I’m talking to you. 👀 Jimin: If I see a laptop in there, I will literally throw it outside. Tae: no work on my birthday event please thank you! @ YN I’m talking to you 👀 Allie: @ YN, don’t ignore us! You: Calm down, lol. I’m literally finishing everything this week so I can relax with you all Jimin: finally, work-life balance 😀 You: 🙄 im trying my best to work-life-balance the shit out of this Tae: we invited Jungkook during lunch fyi Jungkook: yeaaahhhh👍 Allie: lets talk tomorrow what food to prepare when youre back from your vacation @ Yoongi Yoongi: 👍 Tae: I wish I had so many paid leaves that I could go on a trip after a fishing trip like Yoongi. Jimin: then stop using your PTOs for stupid shit! Yoongi: seen

The phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications. Jimin rambling about work-life balance, Tae hyping Jungkook up for the trip, and Allie sending yet another reminder about what to pack. You muted the chat and let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Cabin. Lake. Jungkook.

Before you could overthink spending a weekend with him outside of work, you put your attention back to your computer screen, pouring all your tension into the project.

The next day, as expected, you nailed the presentation. Of course, you did. Your boss was full of praise, and the VIP clients were very impressed with the discussion. Sometimes you wondered why you stressed so much, but deep down, you knew the answer. Being good wasn’t enough, you had to be great.

Your sense of self-worth was deeply tied to your accomplishments at work. Sad, but whatever.

You walked into the pantry after the presentation, on your way to another client meeting, when you see your friends, all huddled around.

Yoongi’s fresh off vacation, laughing with Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook. The energy in the room was light, the kind that made you want to linger, but…work. Ugh.

“Didn’t catch a thing!” Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head.

“So why do you always go fishing with him?” Jimin asked, barely holding back a laugh.

“Eh, I didn’t want him to be alone,” Yoongi shrugged, crossing his arms. “Also, someone had to be there for his dad jokes.”

Jungkook groaned. “Man, I miss Jin’s dad jokes. They’re so awful, but it grew on me.”

“You say that now,” Yoongi said dryly, “but after two straight hours of ‘What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fsh,’ I was ready to jump in the lake myself.”

The group burst into laughter, and you found yourself laughing too. They spotted you lingering in the doorway.

“YN! Join us!” Yoongi called, waving you over.

You shook your head, holding up a hand. “I’m literally just passing by. I have a client meeting in like… right now.”

Jimin and Tae both dramatically groaned.

But before you left, you walked over to Yoongi and gave him a quick hug. “Missed you, though. Tell me more about your fishing trip later.”

“You know where to find me,” Yoongi replied with a smirk. “But it was mostly Jin and I sitting on a boat.”

“Sounds riveting,” you teased, waving everyone goodbye as the laughter resumed behind you.

You caught Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

The week went by fast, and everyone seemed excited, looking forward to the weekend trip.

After a three-hour drive in the early Saturday morning, you finally arrived at the cabin. The scent of firewood and cedar greeted you like a familiar friend.

The cabin was a perfect blend of modern and rustic charm. It ss a two story retreat with three cozy bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, and an inviting living room. Large windows shows off the breathtaking views of the lake, letting in an abundance of natural light that made the space feel even more open, serene.

The crisp air nipped at your cheeks, but the way the sun glinted off the lake beyond the porch made the chill comfortable.

Slowly, you could feel the tension from work beginning to melt away. This was exactly what you needed.

Everyone naturally fell into their roles without a single word exchanged. Allie and Yoongi immediately took over the kitchen, playing MasterChef, while Jimin and Taehyung turned the living room into an entertainment hub. As for you? Well, you were graciously tasked with giving Jungkook the grand tour—not that you minded… at all.

He trailed behind you, nodding intently as you showed him around. You almost sneered at his attentiveness, the way his eyes widened as if you were explaining something groundbreaking.

So, this is Yoongi’s room,” you said, stopping at the first door by the stairs. “You’ll be sharing with him.” You pushed the door open, staying just outside the hallway, revealing two double-sized beds and a massive window with a stunning view of the lake. Jungkook stepped inside, dropping both his and Yoongi’s bags with a quiet thud.

He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the view before shifting to the door across the hallway. Before he could ask, you preemptively pointed. “That’s Jimin’s and Tae’s room, and here,” you gestured to the door beside his, “that’s mine and Allie’s. Yoongi insisted on not being next to Jimin and Tae. Gods know what they’re up to at night, they make weird noises.”

Jungkook grunted in acknowledgment, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“Oh, by the way, each room has its own bathroom. That’s honestly why we keep coming back here. Aside from the lake and other stuff, of course.” You laughed, your voice echoing slightly in the quiet hallway. Just as you were about to show him the balcony at the end of the hall, someone downstairs shouted your name. Probably Jimin or Tae yelling about the cottage.

“Ah, the cottage by the lake!” you exclaimed, snapping your fingers. “It’s a great spot to chill. Or stargaze. We usually take dinners there or nap. It’s kind of our favorite spot,” you added with a grin, gesturing downstairs.

Jungkook mirrored your excitement with his signature scrunched-nose smile. Before you knew it, Tae and Jimin had joined in, whisking Jungkook away to show him around the cottage and the lake. The three of them looked like overgrown kids finally let loose on a playground.

Back in the kitchen, you joined Yoongi and Allie to finish cooking—though, most of it was already done. You ended up as a taste-tester. By the time everything was ready, the three boys had returned, eager to help set the table.

Lunch was a mix of chaos and calm, the former courtesy of Jimin, Tae, and Allie, while Yoongi’s steady presence, and your quiet nature balanced it all out. Jungkook, as the newest addition to your group, fit in seamlessly. Though he was closest to Yoongi, his easygoing nature made him click with Jimin and Tae almost instantly, their shared humor evident in their playful banter.

By the afternoon, everyone was sprawled in the cottage by the lake.

The cottage was a cozy wooden structure with a slightly weathered exterior, which added to the charm. It is surrounded by large windows , always kept open to let in the fresh breeze and the gentle sound of waves at the lake shore. It was warm and inviting inside, with soft lighting, and a wraparound porch showing panoramic views of the lake.

You and Allie lay on a mat, scrolling through your phones and occasionally showing each other funny memes or cute animal videos. Yoongi was settled in a chair with a glass of whiskey, reading something through his phone with the occasional hum of approval.

The three boys decided to swim in the lake, and you immediately began muttering prayers under your breath, for what, you weren’t entirely sure.

Maybe for divine intervention to stop Jungkook from being so infuriatingly distracting, or perhaps for the strength to keep your jaw from hitting the floor every time he emerged from the water.

He was wearing a black compression shirt that clung to him perfectly, revealing his colorful inked arm here, the outline of a toned torso there, and let’s not even get started on those thighs, perfectly framed by his black basketball shorts. Every time he strolled over to grab a snack from the picnic basket near you, you pretended to be deeply invested in your phone, eyebrows furrowed like you were decoding quantum physics. Anything to mask the heat creeping up your neck and the very inappropriate thoughts threatening to invade your peace and relaxation.

By evening, you all decided to eat dinner in the cottage, the vibe now tinged with the warmth of alcohol and laughter. The moonlight perfectly cascaded over the lake, its silver glow reflecting off the water and illuminating the cottage like a serene painting. The soft glow of lamps inside added to the ambiance, making everything about the place perfect.

Everyone seemed louder now, the alcohol buzz turning the cozy cottage into a chaotic, laughter-filled arena. Tae and Jimin were wrestling on the floor, mimicking exaggerated WWE moves that made Allie’s contagious laugh echo throughout the space. Yoongi, now a little chatty and loud, had taken on the role of their coach, shouting absurd instructions.

“Chokehold, Tae! No, no, Jimin, counter with the sleeper hold!” Yoongi barked, his face uncharacteristically animated as if he was controlling two game characters.

You watched Jungkook laugh at their antics, his bunny teeth flashing as he swatted away Jimin and Tae’s attempts to drag him into their chaos. But when the two of them finally lunged at him, intent on overpowering him, Jungkook barely even flinched. With a fluid, almost effortless motion, he sent both of them sprawling back onto the couch like they weighed nothing more than throw pillows.

Jungkook is strong.

You don’t know what to do with this information.

It wasn’t the strength itself that caught you off guard, you knew Jungkook worked out, but watching him do it with such ease felt almost... dangerous. You wonder how those strong hands gripping your thighs, pinning you against the wall, as he pounds—nope. Nope.

Stop right there you horny bitch.

You gulped down the flavored beer in your hand, the cool liquid doing little to douse the heat crawling up your neck.

“Thirsty much?” Allie teased, nudging you with a smirk as she caught your flustered state.

“I—yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

Jungkook’s laugh broke through your spiraling thoughts again, and you stole a quick glance at him. Thankfully, he seemed blissfully unaware of the effect he had on you, just being his playful self, swatting Jimin away like an annoying fly.

You feel the heat building in your core becoming more and more unbearable. You press your legs to try to soothe the feeling but it’s clear that you need more. You need a cold splash of water on your face, or better yet, a shower.

Standing abruptly, you excuse yourself for a 'bathroom break.' Your friends barely glance up, offering quick nods before returning to the chaos around them.

Chaos.

This chaos is the perfect cover for Jungkook.

Ever since he met you, there hasn’t been a single day he hasn’t felt like he’s stuck in his own personal hell.

He’s been avoiding looking at you for far too long, for obvious reasons.

The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. Now that he’s close to you and your friends, he’s doing everything to keep it together, to not let anyone, especially Yoongi, catch on. Yoongi’s too observant, and Jungkook’s painfully aware of that. He’s not ready to talk about whatever is going on with him. Or whatever it is he's feeling towards you.

But that moment in the Server Room? He feels a gnawing guilt in his gut, the worry that he made you uncomfortable. He hasn’t heard a word from you about it, though. Didn’t give any hint that something was off. You would’ve said something if you were uncomfortable, right?

You, with your cold, uptight air, focused only on deadlines. You wouldn’t let him get close if you weren’t okay with him. You’d cut him right away if he crossed a line, right?

Was he imagining you there? Maybe you didn’t actually see him. Maybe you weren't actually in the Server Room. He was probably hallucinating in desire. He’s not sure anymore.

But damn, you don’t make it easy.

Earlier, when you were lying on the mat with Ally, your shorts slipping up just enough to flash him a taste of your soft skin, he nearly choked on his drink. And now, sitting across the cottage from you, your short dress riding up as you adjust your position, the soft glow of your skin under the dim light…

Fuck.

He wonders how your skin would feel beneath his hands… how it would feel if he buried himself in you.

Focusing on Jimin and Taehyung provides some distraction, though the temptation to steal another glance at you lingers like a ghost. Thankfully, no one seems sober enough to notice his wandering eyes, or the way his shorts have grown uncomfortably tight.

You, oblivious to the war raging in his head, excuse yourself with a quick smile at Allie before heading to the cabin.

Thank God.

Finally, Jungkook lets out a deep breath and forces himself to join the conversation.

But just as he thinks he’s getting a break, Yoongi’s voice cuts through. “Jungkook, can you grab the portable speaker I told you to bring?”

“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Jungkook stands up without a second thought, almost like it’s automatic when someone older asks, barely processing Yoongi’s other questions as he heads to the cabin.

You step into the bathroom, stripping your clothes as you go. Your damp panties are a clear evidence of your need, and you groan in frustration. With a shaky breath, you turn on the shower, hoping the cold water will wash away the tension building inside you. But as the droplets hit your skin, they do little to distinguish the fire within.

It hasn’t even been a day in this cabin, and Jungkook is already a problem.

Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve been with anyone, or perhaps the close proximity is making you hyper aware of him. Maybe it’s the memory of him, lost in his own pleasure in the Server Room, fingers working his body while thoughts of you flickered through his mind. The image awakens something in you. Was it just one-time thing? What did he picture you to be while he touched himself?

You pull yourself out of your thoughts, allowing the shower to wash away your lingering filthy desires.

After the quick shower, you step out, wrapping yourself in a towel. But you’re still burning up.

Sighing in frustration, you sit on the bed and brush through your damp hair, but it's still too wet… so you pat it dry. As you glance into the mirror, your reflection catches your eye. The soft, golden light from the lamp casts a warm glow on your skin, drawing your attention, and for a moment you're entranced by your subtle radiance.

You trail your fingers over your arms, your collarbone, down to your chest. Your nipples harden under your touch, and you groan softly. The cabin is alive with distant laughter from the cottage, your friends blissfully oblivious to your desperation.

The craving intensifies, and without thinking, your hands drift lower, over your stomach, to your thighs. Your legs part instinctively, your fingers finding the slick heat between your folds. You press against your clit, your breath hitching at the electric shock that runs through your body.

You imagine Jungkook’s hands there instead. The way he would touch you, soft and rough. The way he would devour you, make you beg for more.

You picture him. His body, his hands, his mouth—all of it.

As your fingers slide inside, you bite your lip, your body shuddering with need. You pump in and out, the friction building, but it’s not enough. You groan in frustration, you need more.

You need something bigger, harder. You need him.

Your eyes lock onto the round brush on the side, its dark wooden handle glistening in the dim light. Something primal snaps within you. Without a second thought, you grab it, your fingers curling around the bristles as you lift it to your lips. The thick, rounded handle presses against your mouth, and you drag your tongue over it, coating it with your spit.

Your heart races as you slide the handle down your body. Lifting yourself off the bed just enough, you position it at your entrance, the anticipation making your thighs tremble. Slowly, deliberately, you lower yourself onto it, gasping as it stretches you open. Your eyes stay locked on the mirror, watching every inch of the handle disappear inside you.

The sight alone makes your body shiver in need, and soon you can’t hold back. Your hips move instinctively, a slow grind that quickly builds into something desperate. You ride it hard, fast, the rhythm of your movements echoing through the creaks in the room. Each thrust draws a whimper from your lips as your imagine Jungkook beneath you, his strong hands gripping your hips, his dark eyes blazing as you grind against him. The way he’d look at you, the way he would sound as he moans your name, needy and breathy, like how he did in the Server Room.

The creak of the bed grows louder, and in your mind, it’s because of him—pounding into you relentlessly, the headboard slamming against the wall, his deep groans mixing with your cries. How he’d ruin you completely, leaving no part of you untouched.

Your hand remains between your legs, circling and flicking your clit in time with the thrusts. The tension builds and builds, each movement pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

And when you finally let go, when your orgasm crashes over you, it’s intense—like a pressure valve bursting open. You cry out his name, repeating it as your body trembles, your vision blurring as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

The moment Jungkook opens the door to his room, right next to yours, his gaze immediately lands on the portable speaker that Yoongi had asked him for, resting casually on the table alongside his other things. He walks toward it absentmindedly, his mind spinning in circles, thoughts tangled and restless.

How could he speak to you alone without feeling like his throat is closing in, without that damn knot of nerves tightening in his chest?

For fuck's sake, he’s not some shy guy. Maybe reserved at first, but shy? No. Not anymore. So why the hell does it feel like your gaze alone could drop him to his knees? He will do whatever you tell him—crawl, bark, beg. Whatever you wanted. No hesita—

"Fuck, Jungkook..." A moan. So soft, so faint, it feels like his mind is playing tricks on him.

And then another moan, but this time incoherent, then a soft creak, followed by the rhythmic sound of a bed moving.

His body goes rigid, every nerve on high alert. You’re in there. Alone. What the hell is going on?

He moves toward the wall separating you from him, pressing his ear against it, desperate to hear more of you.

Another moan, louder this time, long and dripping with need.

His breath stutters, pulse hammering in his ears. The muscles in his jaw tighten, his cock twitching involuntarily. The sound of you—fuck. That’s how you sound? Beautiful. Perfect. Needy. And shit… you’re thinking of him? Fucking yourself, imagining him? He’s losing his mind.

His shorts feel suddenly painfully tight. His hands tremble, fumbling at his waistband, pulling the thing that’s aching to be freed out of both pants and boxers in one desperate motion.

The moans and soft whimpers continue and it’s too much. He grips his cock, the hard length throbbing in his hand as he starts to pump. His strokes grow frantic, desperate, matching the steady pulse of the bed as it rocks with your need. His mind floods with images of you—your fucked out face, wet lips parted in pleasure, the way your body arches, shivering beneath him, trembling with each of his movements. He imagines your nails dragging down his back, marking him, claiming him as his own. The sound of his name on your lips again and again, each breath getting closer to his ear, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, tighter.

When you cry out his name again, he can’t take it anymore, he bursts. His release hits him hard, his body shuddering as he spills his hot white cum into his hand, and some of it staining the walls.

He stood frozen—breathless, trembling, overwhelmed by the weight of a realization.

You, an actress.

Behind the mask of ambition, beneath the cold exterior of reservation and control, lies a desperate, hidden need.

You had begged for it in silence.

He would make sure you screamed for it out loud.

taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810 @cherryreadsfics @boyfriendtaekook @michuga @kchukes @ahgasegotarmy116 @michellekosmos @pitchblack0309

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 2 months ago

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First Impressions

Based on this requested prompt: Reader is friends with/related to Rossi in some way (niece/neighbor) and goes to visit Rossi at his house after he recently got in injured etc in the field. Rossi is looking after Jack for Hotch when he suddenly realizes something about the case so leaves Jack with reader etc. Jack finds out that reader teaches ASL for a living and Jack asks for her to teach him something and she asks what he wants to learn and it's along the lines of "you are my superhero dad, I love you". Aaron's reaction to meeting reader, having been ready to be angry or something bad to have happened but instantly liking and being attracted to her and his reaction to Jack signing to him.

Note: Loved everything about this request by the way. 🥰🥰

"Knock knock uncle!" you announced boisterously as you unlocked and opened the front door to your favorite relative's house. Him being your only uncle had nothing to do with that of course, you only liked him for his funny wit and cringy dad jokes.

"In here Gioia Mia!" his voice replied from the kitchen. Once you rounded the turn, you spotted him, dressed in a cooking apron, injured arm in a sling, trying to open a jar of tomatoes.

"Zio, you're gonna either drop the jar or hurt your arm again by doing that, let me help."

It wasn't until you went over to take the jar from him that you noticed a little boy no older than 6 sitting at the kitchen island, drawing on some scratch paper. You remembered your uncle occasionally mentioning watching his boss' kid from time to time but never actually got to meet him.

Smiling, you gave him a little wave when he looked up at you. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Jack," was all he said. He was polite but clearly shy. After opening the jar and handing it back to your uncle, you took a peek at what he was drawing.

"My name's Y/N. Rossi is my uncle. Whatchya drawing?"

Pulling his marker away, he slid the paper for you to see. "Superman."

You were honestly impressed with his artistic ability. From the flowing cape Superman wore to the big cartoon like letters that spelt out HERO he included, you knew he must be a very smart boy.

"Oh wow, that looks so good. I actually really like Batman," you told him, trying to relate.

"Batman is cool too." He didn't look you in the eyes when he said it, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he went back to drawing. Turning your attention to your uncle, you watched him walking back and forth from the stove to the pantry, grabbing different spices and ingredients for whatever it was he was making. All while checking his phone every 2 seconds.

"Got a hot date?" you teased, taking a plum from the little fruit basket on the counter.

"Ha ha. No, I'm actually waiting for some very important details to a case the team is working on."

You squinted your eyes in suspicion, which he caught onto and huffed. "I'm not doing any strenuous activity fragolina, I'm just helping out where I can. I staying out of the field, I promise."

"Yeah, and you opening jars and cheffing it up in the kitchen like a madman isn't strenuous?"

He made at you to pass him the salt by your hand, which you handed over. "Not when you compare it to breaking down doors and arresting criminals."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at his dramatic comparison. "Yeah, ok Zio. When's the last time you broke down a door? Isn't that the job for that Morgan guy you talk about?"

"Yeah. Well who do you think tells him to break the door down? Me."

He taste tested what you assumed was sauce he was making before adding a heaping load of garlic powder to it. You decided to not to bust his chops anymore and took a seat next to Jack.

"May I borrow a marker?"

He grabbed the pack of colorful tools and placed them in between the two of you before also handing you a proper piece of paper instead of the bill envelope you were planning on doodling on. Your heart melted at his caring act. The two of you scribbled together as you made small talk with your uncle before his phone rang. As he talked with the person on the other line, you noticed a shift in his disposition.

"Are you sure? No, don't worry about it, I'll head over there myself."

Ending the call, he looked around the room as if to gather his bearing and go over a plan in his head before speaking.

"Hey fragolina. I need to leave real quick to just check on something super imperative to the case. Anyway you can watch my buddy here for a little bit? I'll be back within a half an hour."

You glanced over at Jack who was looking at the both of you, a confused look on his face. You tried sounding as least bit intimidating as possible. "Yeah of course. Only if it's ok with you Jack. I know we just met."

"Jack, you can trust her, she's my closest friend. And I'll be back quickly," your uncle added while turning off the stove and removing his apron.

"Sure," was his short reply. It was a reply you could tell he wasn't completely sure about but said it to be polite, knowing his friend needed a favor. You gave him a smile and handed over the purple marker for him to finish coloring in his planet.

"Alright. I'll be right back. Y/N, you have my number, call me if you need anything."

"Sure thing Zio."

Walking around, he gave you a kiss on the head and an affectionate rub on the head to Jack before grabbing his keys and leaving.

The room was quite for a second as it settled in that the two of you were alone but continued drawing, not too bothered by the silence. When you absentmindedly signed for the color blue, he gave you a look of bemusement.

"What was that?" he asked, looking at your hands. Then it hit you that you had signed to a 6 year old boy who was still learning English vocab, let alone ASL.

"Sorry, it's a habit I have sometimes. I teach sign language for my job and when it gets quiet, I sometimes sign instead of talk."

"You know sign language?"

He asked the question with enthusiasm which surprised you. "I do. Do you know how?"

He shook his head. "No, but there's a kid at school that does. It looks cool."

You smiled at his answer, happy that he didn't think it was weird. Most 6 year olds wouldn't be so interested in the matter.

"Would you like me to teach you something? Anything you want."

He nodded excitedly and then took a second to think about it before speaking. "Can you teach me to say, you're my superhero dad, I love you?"

You could've cried right then and there if it wouldn't have made you look like a crazy person. How sweet this little guy was that he thought of his father instead of some silly inappropriate phrase any other boy would have asked for.

"Of course I can!"

So for the next 15 minutes or so, you two sat there and went over the motions, him mirroring you as well as he could which was quite well if you were being honest. It had taken way longer for some of your students to learn one word, let alone a whole phrase like Jack was doing.

"Ok, now I'm not gonna show you this time. You show me," you instructed, having all the faith in him. Slowly, he began signing each word slowly, focusing hard on what motion came after the next, looking down at his hands, practically getting it completely correct by the end of it.

"That was so good Jack! Wow, I'm so impressed. You are so so smart."

He beamed at your compliment, meeting you halfway for a high five. You both ended up moving into the living room and you watched one of his favorite cartoons. Wanting him to be more comfortable with you, you made sure to ask a bunch of questions about the show, loving how his personality was starting to come out the more he talked.

It wasn't much longer that you heard the front door open and multiple voices ring through. One particular voice that you didn't recognize, called Jack's name.

"Dad!" Jack hopped off the couch so quickly, Flash would've been proud and ran over into the arms of who you assumed was his father.

"Hey buddy," his dad greeting, looking over at you with a neutral expression. He was dressed in a full suit that fit him quite well and sported an expensive looking watch. You stood up from your spot on the couch and walked over, feeling a bit nervous at his intense vibe.

"See Aaron, I told you everything was fine," your uncle spoke, giving you a comforting wink. Wanting to be as polite as possible to your uncle's boss, you extended your hand out with a genuine smile.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, Rossi's niece. Everything's been good here, Jack is such a great kid."

He returned the handshake with a professional smile, taking a second to look at you, no doubt profiling you entirely, deeming whether or not you were a right choice to watch his son.

"Aaron Hotchner. Thank you, he is great. What did you guys get up to while we were gone?"

Thankfully, Jack ended up answering for you, saving you from falling over your words while trying not to crumble under his dad's strong gaze.

"She taught me sign language dad!"

He looked down at his son, a look of surprise on his face.

"Here, let me show you."

Everyone watched as Jack began signing to his dad, that same adorable concentrated look on his face. By the end of it, his dad was actually grinning. Teeth and all.

"It means, you're my superhero dad, I love you," Jack explained.

His dad's whole demeanor changed, becoming a whole lot softer and inviting as he bent down to hug his son. It took everything in you not to tear up at the loving interaction.

"That was awesome buddy, I love you too."

You caught a look from his dad, this time a bit more favorable, you now assuming he had made the decision that you were alright. Afterwards, Jack's dad told him to gather his things so they could leave as your uncle went into the kitchen to start the oven, leaving you and Mr. Hotchner alone together.

"I apologize if I seemed a little rude earlier. I'm just very protective of Jack," he explained.

You smiled and waved him off, not admitting that he did have shaking in your boots a little at first. "Oh, you weren't rude. I totally get it, he's your boy. I'd be the same way if he was my kid."

The minute that passed by as you two waited for Jack to return, you could feeling him looking at you again. This time you weren't sure if he was still sizing you up or what but it didn't prevent the raise in blood pressure and slight tinge of pink in your cheeks.

Soon after, Jack came running back, his jacket put on half hazardly and his superman drawing in hand.

"Here. I want you to have it," he told you, handing over the piece of paper. You noticed that he had signed his full name on the bottom corner with a little smiley face. It was definitely the best gift you had gotten in a while.

"Thank you so much Jack. I will put this up in my class so all my students can see how talented my new friend is."

He just smiled in return, taking his dad's hand in his. With his available hand, Mr. Hotchner offered another handshake accompanied with a small friendly smile.

"It was good meeting you. I'm sure this won't be the only time we meet."

You knew he meant it as a cordial statement but you couldn't help but let your girly imagination run wild. I mean the man was tall, professionally accomplished, and downright handsome. Every woman's dream.

"I hope not Mr. Hotchner. It was nice meeting you and spending time with Jack."

"Please. Call me Aaron."

You could've screamed. But instead, you held it together, just smiled and watched them leave, yelling a goodbye to your uncle before closing the door behind them.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and fanned your face.

"Setting up playdates already?" you heard your uncle tease from the kitchen entryway. Being a profiler himself and you a terrible keeper of emotion, he knew what was going through your mind.

"Not another word Zio."

He laughed and threw an extra kitchen apron at you. "C'mon. Help me with the zucchini, lovebird."

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner #bau team #criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x y/n

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roosterforme · 17 days ago

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Aim for the Sky Part 40 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Work is finally peaceful for Bradley. While it seems like everyone around him is moving to a new stage of life, he knows he is, too. He's surrounded by so much love already, and more will be blooming soon as he counts down to the end of your pregnancy.

Warnings: Adult language, DILF Roo, pregnancy, smut, lactation kink

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Work was an adjustment. In a good way. It took Bradley a few days to remember he didn't have to look over his shoulder for Indigo. He didn't have to keep his head on a swivel, wondering if she was giving you a hard time somewhere on base. He could just get his work done without interference.

When he eyed the burrito bowls in the cafeteria at lunchtime, he checked his phone, wondering what was taking you so long to come down. "You okay, Soul Sister?" Nat asked, squeezing his shoulder. "Want to sit with Bob, Maria and me?"

Bradley grunted, and shook his head. "I'll wait for my wife."

"I don't think she's coming," Nat replied casually, bypassing the burrito bowls in favor of the baked pasta.

"How do you know that?" Bradley asked, double checking to see if he'd missed a text from you while he was in his classroom all morning. But there was nothing.

"I was talking to her when her boss tracked her down. He looked flustered, telling her he needed her in his office."

Bradley's brow creased as he picked up just one burrito bowl instead of two. He eyed the green hot sauce you were obsessed with, but it wouldn't taste as good without you sitting next to him. "Did Bickel seem upset with her?" Bradley knew how much you loved working for your commanding officer, and that feeling seemed to go both ways.

Nat shrugged. "Less upset and more concerned. I'm sure she's fine."

Bradley settled in next to his best friend and across the table from Maria and Bob, but he barely got one bite of food in his mouth before Maverick was standing next to him.

"I'd eat that as quickly as possible. Cyclone wants to see us."

"Now?" he asked his godfather, wondering why his day kept getting more annoying since parting ways with you. Maybe he should just cancel his afternoon flight.

"I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," Maverick said, leaving him to practically inhale his food while the others conversed.

Apparently Bob and Maria were giving up their lease to move into a nicer one-bedroom place together. While that information wasn't surprising, it made Bradley a little sad. You'd been the one living in that apartment with Maria when Bradley fell in love with you. Your little bedroom was where he'd poured his heart out to you in the early days. It was where he made love to you for the first time.

"I'll help you move," Bradley immediately offered, getting a nod in return from Bob. He really wanted the opportunity to be in that sacred space one last time while he had the chance. And getting brownie points with one of your best friends was never a bad move.

"Thanks, Rooster," Bob replied as Bradley shoveled the last of his burrito bowl into his mouth and got up to leave again. Whatever Cyclone wanted, it was best not to keep the man waiting. But honestly, Bradley couldn't understand how his perfectly good morning was deteriorating so quickly. Waking up with his hand on your belly felt like days ago, and what if Admiral Simpson wanted him for something annoying? Fuck, what if he was about to get deployed even though he'd been promised those would become few and far between? What if he wasn't even home for your due date?

He was counting how many weeks were left in your pregnancy while he knocked on the office door. If he had to spend the anniversary weekend he'd planned at the cabin telling you he was leaving, you would be so upset. You and he needed a break together.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. Have a seat." Bradley met Cyclone's eyes where he stood next to his desk with Maverick. He hated to be the only one in the room sitting, but he was left with little choice. Bradley sank into the chair while Cyclone cleared his throat. "I wanted to take a few minutes to wrap up your complaints against Lieutenant Jeffries."

Bradley cringed, and Maverick crossed his arms over his chest like he was fighting to stand still. "Yes, Sir," Bradley agreed with a nod, hoping he wouldn't have to rehash anything that had already happened.

"I was notified of her separation this morning. An admiral in Texas called me first thing." Bradley sat up straighter in his chair as Cyclone said, "Lieutenant Jeffries has been formally discharged."

Now Bradley had to fight a smile as he replied. "Thank you for letting me know, Sir."

It was obvious Maverick had something to add. "Bradley. Uh, Rooster," he corrected quickly. "During some of our discussions, you voiced concerns about staying in your current role." Bradley swore his heart stopped as Mav added, "Do you still feel that way?"

Bradley stayed silent. For weeks and months he'd been wondering if he was in the right place. Wondering if he was effective as a teacher rather than just another body in another Super Hornet in the air making decisions without considering the consequences. But the main reason he had been second guessing himself was Indigo. He'd keep his head on a swivel from now on. He'd never let something like that happen again. It was easy to reconsider things without her on base. His classes were fun again. He enjoyed teaching. He loved watching his students take what they learned to the air.

But the best part was being at home with you every night. At home with Rosie. At home enjoying the countdown to the arrival of his second daughter.

"No, I don't feel that way now," Bradley rasped as he shook his head. "I'm where I belong."

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

When you realized you'd inadvertently bailed on your husband, you felt bad, but that feeling didn't last for long. When you got to Bickel's office at the same time as Cat, you and she shared a brief look before he ushered you inside. Once you were all seated, your boss broke out into a smile.

"I don't know how you manage to do it, but you two always surpass my expectations."

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself quiet, because you had no idea what he could be talking about. The baby was squirming around and thumping on your ribs as you tried to remain chill without looking at Cat. You adjusted your maternity tent and let your boss continue.

"The quick work you put in to test the new software updates ahead of schedule was so successful, your efforts are being recognized."

Now you were shaking from holding back your laughter, and Cat cleared her throat awkwardly three times. "Thank you, Sir," she said calmly with a smirk. "We try our best."

The look on her face made you start coughing. Was she hoping to make you pee your pants? You thought you might as you took a deep breath and listened to Bickel lay out an upcoming timeline for the continued software testing. It wasn't like you didn't know the updates would be successful; you and Cat worked too hard for anything otherwise. But Indigo was the reason you wanted to ground an aircraft ahead of schedule.

When you were finally dismissed, you rushed toward the bathroom with Cat on your heels. "Are you still nauseous?" she asked as you headed for the first stall. "You're awfully late in your pregnancy to still be so nauseous."

"No! I have to pee! I don't know how you stayed so calm throughout that meeting. I thought I was going to explode with laughter."

She was still smirking when you washed your hands. "Remember all those promises you made about watching Jer for me if I was willing to finish the code in a hurry?"

"I do," you replied easily. "Want to drop him off at my house after work one day this week so you and Jake can get into some nasty shit for a few hours?"

Cat's laughter echoed throughout the space as she doubled over, cackling. "I guess that depends upon your definition of nasty.... we're trying to figure out which day we can go apply for our marriage license." You screamed before she clapped her hand over your mouth. "Shh! Are you out of your mind?"

"Marriage license!" you screeched when she freed you. "Jake is such a fuckboy, and you're so in love with him!"

"You're the one who told me he's a good guy in the first place!"

"He is!" you insisted, beaming at her. "And he'll be the best dad for Jer."

Instead of returning to your office or the lab, you dashed toward the elevators and went downstairs. As soon as the November sun hit your face, you felt like this day couldn't get any better. The walk to the tower was filled with the distant sound of jet wash and a breeze that gave you goosebumps. When you reached the aviator's lounge, the first person you saw when you opened the door was your husband holding a disposable coffee cup and chatting with Natasha, but you rushed past them.

"Hi, Roo," you offered, patting him quickly on his flat belly as you headed for Jake who was sweaty and unzipping the top of his flight suit. You flung your arms around him, and he held you awkwardly with your bump pressed against him.

"Whoa, Angel. What's got you throwing yourself at me?" he asked with a laugh. "Not that I mind..." he added, winking at Bradley as you pulled away.

"You didn't tell me you're getting married," you hissed quietly so the others couldn't hear over their conversation. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Jake's cheeks paled as he wrapped his fingers gently around your bicep, guiding you toward the window. "Damn, Cat can't keep her mouth shut," he muttered, glancing outside. "We don't actually have anything planned yet, but I convinced her to get the marriage license. That'll give us ninety days to make it happen." He turned his green eyes your way and added, "My lawyer said Jeremiah's biological father stands less of a chance of locating him if I adopt him. Make him a Seresin," he grunted softly. "It's just Cat's name listed on Jer's birth certificate, and I'd really like to change that as soon as possible."

"Jake," you gasped, tears filling your eyes. "You're so in love with them."

He nodded. "I am. And I told Cat she'd have a spectacular wedding in ninety days or less if she promised to get the marriage license now. She told me she doesn't want to spend any money. Claims I've spent enough to help her get free from her ex. But I want her to have whatever she wants-"

"She wants you. You're already Jer's dad. Just marry her. Keep it simple."

"Are you ever going to give me a hug?" Bradley called from across the room. "It's been like two minutes, Sweetheart."

Jake smirked and nudged your shoulder with his bicep. "Get over there so he stops whining."

"I'm not whining," Bradley whined. "I just want a hug from my wife and daughter." He tossed his empty cup into the trash when you slotted yourself into his arms. "That's better," he murmured, lips meeting your forehead as you let your cheek rest against his chest.

"He whined when you missed lunch, too," Natasha said casually as you laughed.

Bradley huffed. "Is it really such a bad thing that I like being around my family?"

"Not at all." You glanced up at him. "And I think it's kind of cute when you whine about it." He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as his fingers crept around to your hip, holding you tight. "Guess what Bickel told me earlier."

"That you're the best officer he's ever worked with and he wants you to take over his lab when he retires?"

Your heart fluttered at your husband's words; he was your biggest fan. "Not quite. But Cat and I are being recognized for our work on the Super Hornet comms. And I kind of have Indigo to thank for it in a very twisted way."

"Oh! She's out of the Navy, Baby Girl."

You blinked up at him. "She is?" you whispered, mind swirling with the image of Indigo storming away from you in a rage the last time you saw her.

"Yeah, she's toast," he replied, lips meeting your forehead again as Natasha and Jake headed out. "I had a meeting with Mav and Cyclone."

"When were you going to tell me?"

Bradley's lips curled into a smile as he took your hand and kissed along your knuckles. "I'd have remembered later at some point, but Indigo is the farthest thing from my mind now. I'm more intersted in going home and packing for our trip and fucking you."

You glanced around to make sure everyone else had cleared out. "Okay, that does sound fun, but we have to babysit Jeremiah one evening this week."

"Can't it wait until next week after we get back from the mountains?" he whispered. "I'm in family mode, looking forward to our anniversary."

"Nope. We absolutely have to watch Jer for them. It's a necessity, Roo."

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

"Jesus," Bradley groaned, kicking your maternity uniform across the bedroom floor before it could trip him up. Dinner was in the oven, Rose was napping, and you were easing yourself back on the bed, nearly naked. He watched you pull your sensible underwear down until he could see your rooster tattoo, and then he pounced.

"Roo!" you squealed, wrapping your leg around his hip as he held himself over your body, his hands planted on either side of your head. "You have to make it quick. And you're never quick."

"I know," he grunted, biting his lip as you rubbed yourself against the fly of his khakis. All he wanted at the moment was to take his time licking that bead of milk from your nipple before treating his mouth to your entire body. But there wasn't time. Jake Seresin would be here shortly to ruin his fun.

Your hand on his zipper prompted him to savor that bit of your milk as you pulled him free of his pants. Then you guided him right where he belonged, and he sank inch by inch into your pussy until you moaned his name.

"That's fucking beautiful." He kissed away all the little sounds you made as he fucked you slowly; they could just wait out on the porch with Jeremiah until Bradley was done with you for all he cared.

But something about having you naked and beneath him while he was still fully clothed in his uniform made Bradley realize he wasn't going to last too long. The bounce of your tits as your fingers dug into his hair. The scrape of your nails along his scalp as your pupils grew wide. The way your growing belly took up more space than usual. It was all designed to make him insane. He knew it. He wasn't going to fight it. You'd win every time anyway.

"How do you do this to me?" murmured against your neck, inhaling your scent with a gasping breath as your pussy pulsed around him. "How do you fuck me up like this?"

Your answer was your lips on his jaw as Bradley swallowed hard, fucking you as his body tensed above yours. "Roo," you gasped, lips parting, rolling your hips. He couldn't hang on when it was this good. When your voice was in his ear, coaxing him along.

"God, Roo. Daddy!"

That did it. His thrusts grew shorter as he came, pushing himself deep, filling you with his cum until he let his weight settle halfway on top of you. He was never done until you got what you deserved, but as soon as he dragged his fingers along your tattoo and let them settle on your clit, Tramp started barking.

"They're here," you moaned, starting to sit up with Bradley's cock still buried deep.

"But I'm not done with you," he whispered, keeping you in place while Tramp howled. But it was useless. "Fuck!" He pulled himself free, forfeiting the opportunity to watch his cum leak out of you as he stood. Bradley tucked himself back into his pants and did up the zipper, scowling. "Hangman ruins everything, I swear to god." He pulled one of his old undershirts and some gym shorts from his drawer as you laughed and stood. "I'll finish you off later," he promised with a kiss, pressing his clothing into your hand.

"I know you will."

Bradley was in no mood for company, but when he opened the front door, Jer clapped his hands with a big smile on his face. "Hey, Buddy," he said, smiling reluctantly as Jeremiah climbed from Cat's arms into his. "Tramp is so excited to play with you."

"Tramp!" Jeremiah reached down trying to pet the dog while he went wild.

"Thanks for babysitting," Jake said as he strolled in from the porch earning an eye roll from Bradley.

"It's no big deal," Bradley replied through clenched teeth, trying not to glare. It wasn't like Jake and Cat had any idea what they'd interrupted. Or at least they didn't until you came rushing down the hallway into the living room with Bradley's undershirt on backward. Cat didn't seem to notice, but Jake stifled his laughter behind his hand.

"Hi, Jeremiah!" you crooned, running your fingers along his cheek. "We're going to have so much fun. Rose will be awake soon, and we can go out back to the playset."

"Sorry about the timing," Jake muttered.

"No, you're not," Bradley whispered. "Now get out of here."

Jake laced his fingers with Cat's as she said, "We'll be back in less than two hours."

"Take your time," you said, waving her off. "We'll have so much fun while you're gone." You took Jeremiah's hand and led him to the couch where you'd left a stack of Rose's books, ready for the occasion.

When Bradley closed the front door, he heard his daughter's cries coming from the nursery. He rushed in to scoop her up, kissing her fuzzy hair and changing her diaper before carrying her to the living room where you were reading Jeremiah the silly goose book.

"Whoa, Baby Girl. You need to start over. Rosie and I love this book."

"Love!" Jer cheered as Bradley settled down on the couch next to him. The little boy suddenly seemed more interested in Rose than in the book, but you obliged everyone by starting the story at the beginning.

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

The sun was setting after dinner as you nursed Rose on the patio wearing Bradley's clothes and your boat shoes. You hadn't taken the time to turn his shirt the other way, too busy bustling around with the two, well, three kids.

"Higher?" Bradley asked.

"Higher!" Jeremiah replied, and you watched your husband push his swing harder. Peels of laugher filled the backyard, and now Rose was crying for a different reason. She seemed to want to join in the fun as Tramp ran around the playset in circles.

"Jake needs to get this kid a puppy," Bradley eventually said as Jeremiah reached for the dog again. Really, the only thing that seemed more interesting to him was Rose, and he shifted his focus as you walked their way, Tramp immediately forgotten.

"Can you say Rose?" you asked Jeremiah as his swing came to a stop in front of Bradley. "Rose."

He tried his best but struggled with the R sound as Rose reached for his hair. "Be nice, Rosie," Bradley scolded, scooping up Jeremiah at the same time he took Rose from your arms. The sight of him holding both kids was almost too much, and you reached for one of the wooden playset posts to keep yourself standing. He kissed your daughter's cheek and said, "It's getting dark out here. How about a snack and one more round of the silly goose book?"

"We could do that," you whispered, letting your hand rest on your belly. For the briefest second, you started rethinking your threat about the vasectomy.

"You have to read it again," Bradley murmured, leading the way to the sliding glass door with his arms full. "The kids love your voice, and so do I."

By the time you finished the book, Rose was falling asleep and Jeremiah was yawning. But Bradley looked attentive, eyes calculating. At the sound of a knock on the door, he was up from the couch with Jeremiah in his arms. "Well, it's been fun, little man, but it's time for you to leave."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye!" you complained, holding Rose.

Bradley turned around so you could kiss Jeremiah on the cheek, and then he thrust the child into Cat's arms and closed the door as soon as she said thank you.

"That wasn't very nice," you said with a laugh.

"I disagree, Sweetheart," he told you as he reached for Rose. "I thought that was pretty fucking nice considering what they interrupted earlier. Now say goodnight to your daughter and go get undressed."

"Stop swearing in front of the baby," you scolded half-heartedly before he kissed your lips. God, he was doing numbers on you right now. He was in his demanding 'dad' mode while still wearing his uniform, and you moaned out loud. "Okay, fine. I'll go get undressed."

Everything felt so good tonight. You could hear Bradley singing to Rose as you went to the bathroom and did your bedtime routine. You didn't have to wait long after you tugged his undershirt over your head before he appeared in the bedroom doorway. His brown eyes were playful, but his gaze was glued to your body. "Now, where were we?"

You trailed your hand down your side, along your swollen belly, and let your fingertips graze your tattoo. "Right about here, Roo."

He nodded in agreement, closing the distance with three long strides before kneeling in front of you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as his lips and mustache met your rooster tattoo before skimming along your belly. "Yeah. Right about here."

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

Well, I was wrong... there will be one more part after this! Stay tuned for an anniversary trip. And don't forget to send me your thoughts about hcs and blurbs! Thanks for reading!

PART 41

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luveline · 1 month ago

Note

hey jade! i’ve been missing kbd sm lol. can i request one where reader and steve get into another argument over something but ofc they try to go away from the girls and handle it privately. sorry that’s so vague but idk it just heals my heart how they resolve arguments. thanks girl i literally love you and ur work!!

tysm!!! luv u <3 KBD mom!reader

“Daaaaad…”

Steve frowns at a crusting of cranberry sauce dedicating itself to the times of a fork and doesn’t answer.

“Dad!”

Steve gives the fork a last few useless scrubs with the burgs before tossing it back into the inch of water in the sink. “Yeah?” he asks, moving on to the next plate, scrubbing at it quickly with another dousing of dish soap.

Avery jams her sharp chin into his side. “Daddy, can I have another ice cream, please?”

“I don’t think so.” Steve rinses the plate and puts it in the drying rack.

“Please?”

“We already had our after dinner treats,” he says, not too gentle nor too rigid. “Are you still hungry?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll make you something, then, a sandwich or a dinner roll,” you say.

Avery twists around, frame already wracked with injustice. “I’m not that hungry for turkey, mom. Not that it wasn’t yummy!” She tips her head back. Upside down, Steve can see up her nose. “I just think I have more room for ice cream.”

Steve can’t blame Avery for wanting it. It’s dulce de leche flavour with chocolate chips. Yummiest shit ever, Steve could eat all ten pots from the pack in one sitting. And Avery is real cute.

“You can‘t tell your sisters.”

“Steve.” You frown at the table, dishrag on pause in your hand. “Avery, you can’t have another one, okay? One was enough.”

“I don’t see what it would hurt,” Steve says.

“That’s not the point.”

Steve gives you a sideways look. “Well, what’s the point?”

“She had her ice cream, because she was a really good girl and she deserved it,” you say, giving Avery a soft smile, “but we can’t just eat whatever we want, not all the time. If you’re hungry, we can have a turkey sandwich, or some granola or something.”

Avery pouts. “Please?”

“No, honey,” you say.

Steve wants to say, Why? Avery is a slight girl. He understands wanting the best for kids and the importance of healthy meals, but those pots of ice cream are treat-sized and Avery won’t have two tomorrow. But he waits for Avery to say, “Okay, I’ll have a sandwich,” and for you to say, “Alright, good girl. Why don’t you go back to finish Mouse Detective and I’ll bring one in?” before he opens his mouth.

“I really don’t get why she couldn’t have one.”

You wince, waiting pointedly for the door between the kitchen and the living room to stop swinging. “Uh, ‘cos it’s an hour before bedtime and she had one already. If she has one, Beth will want one–” You glare at him, his jaw snapping closed. “I know that would be a good thing, okay, but then Dove will want one, and we’ll have to clean her up all over again.”

“So I’d do that.”

“But you shouldn’t have to, and you’re not going to.”

“I’m not going to?” he asks, smirking.

“No,” you say, and you don’t seem to find it very funny, but the fight in your eyes is dying down. “You’re not. It’s not– there’s no need for the fuss of it when you can just say no. Takes five seconds.”

“Or I can just say yes and make her smile.”

“Don’t act like that.”

“Like what?”

“Steve.”

“I’m not really acting like anything, and I don’t wanna fight.”

You seem to not like realising that it’s a fight, and then that he’s dodging it, grimacing, running a stressed hand over your collar like you’re too hot. “It’s not about wanting to fight, I don’t want to fight with you. You asked me why she couldn’t have one and I told you why I think so.”

“Bossed me around a bit.”

“You don’t do that to me?”

Steve tries not to, but he probably does. And there’s a part of him that feels subtly wounded at the whole thing. He wants to give Avery an ice cream, you say no, Avery doesn’t get an ice cream, and he’s still in trouble?

You lean against the counter in the crux of the cabinets and hold your collar for a bit. Steve finishes the dishes, setting them to dry, and he goes for the fridge as you open the bread bin.

“Mayonnaise too heavy for bed?” Steve murmurs.

“No, don’t think so. She doesn’t like much.”

Steve knows that, and you know he knows, it’s just words to fill the quiet. “Should we ask Dove n’ Beth?”

“No point.” Beth didn’t finish her dinner because she very much didn’t want to, and Dove stuffed herself until she got sleepy in your lap. She’s probably sleeping on the couch already.

Steve hands you the mayonnaise. You spread it on the bread. Steve cuts up some of the turkey and you press it down flat like Avery likes.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

“Uh…” Steve scratches his scalp. “Baby, I don’t really see what the big deal was.”

You scrunch up your face. “That’s not ideal.”

“That’s a nice way to say annoying.”

“M’not trying to make things worse,” you mutter.

“It’s fine. I��m sorry for fucking you off–”

You snort, lining up Avery’s sandwich for a decisive cut corner to corner. “Sure.”

“For the record, I think she could’ve had her ice cream, and I would’ve cleaned them up, but it’s obviously fine that you said no. Alright?” He holds your gaze. “I don’t get why it got you all prickly. So just– explain that to me, and we can– and I’ll try not to say something stupid back.”

“You don’t,” you say.

“I do, that’s fine.”

“It’s not like it was a conscious decision. You asking me what the point was right in front of Ave made me feel like an idiot.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look up. “But baby, I already told her she could have the ice cream. We weren’t exactly a paragon of unity from the beginning.”

You breathe out slowly. “Right,” you say, moving on instinct to grab a bag of honey-bacon chips from the cabinet. You uncurl the top of the bag and take a handful, pouring them onto Avery’s plate.

You take a couple more from the bag and hold them toward him. He opens his hand for them. Tentative, you raise yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Okay,” you gently, “got it.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Mm,” he hums.

“Yeah?”

Steve makes a face at his hand. “Oh, god, I don’t know. Should I forgive my beautiful wife for a small disagreement before we go lay up in bed together to cuddle?” Tipping his head back, he dumps his chips into his mouth and says between crunches, “Jury’s in. I love you.”

You shake your head. “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

“Or what?”

Steve watches you take the plate in to Avery through the door. Listens to you tell her that she did a great job today and that you’re not trying to be mean, just ice cream is a once in a while sort of treat. Listens to Avery say she loves you and she doesn’t mind, and thanks for the sandwich.

Later that night, in bed, little tenseness to be found, you’re letting your forehead tip against the curve of his shoulder. Your hand cream hints of lavender, your hair oil something warmer.

“I should’ve given her the ice cream,” you murmur.

“I think so, but it’s not… it’s not a big deal. We tell them no all the time. Just this time I made you feel guilty.”

“No, her face when she told me thanks for the sandwich made me feel guilty. She said it was awesome.”

“Probably was. I fucking aced that turkey, basted that shit five different times.” His stomach gurgles. “Fuck, we should have turkey sandwiches for breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“Hm?”

“Okay, let’s have turkey sandwiches for breakfast.” You rub your eye tiredly into his shoulder, and the motion turns his heart.

“Or we can have something less gluttonous.”

“What’s gluttonous about a turkey sandwich?” you ask. What he’s trying to say is, you don’t have to let him do something out of the ordinary to make up for the ice cream thing. You must know that, though. You gotta. It’s in his arm snaking behind your back as he presses you nearer, his breath on your forehead, none of what happened earlier matters enough to need this kind of worry. He wants you to close your eyes, curl into his chest, and rest without stress.

“What about turkey, egg and cheese?” he suggests softly, letting his fingertips tumble lovingly up and in the dip of your spine.

“Sounds gluttonous.”

“You admit it.”

Steve barely holds in a giggle, tightening the hold he has around you to force you onto his front. You don’t hold yours in, laugh syrupy and slow as your legs fall between his and your hands take up station under his arms.

“Love you,” you mumble.

“You owe me one from earlier.”

“Love you, love you.”

He reaches blindly for the sheets to tug over your cuddling. “Love you love you, too. That’s our fight for the month though, you hear me?” he murmurs, allowing himself the pleasure of a lazy kiss pressed to your temple. He holds it there, speaking right into your skin, “I hate that way your eyebrows go up. It makes me sad. Don’t wanna see that again, okay?” Rubs your back. Makes sure you get it. “Okay? So don’t think I’m mad or something. M’not mad at you.”

“M’not that mad at you either.”

“That mad?” he laughs.

”Not much. I’m sure I’ll forget by the morning,” you tease.

“Then sleep tight, honey.”

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aquaholicsanonymousworld · 2 months ago

Text

Tough

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Singer!Reader

Summary: Jack Harlow and his girlfriend have a new song out together and while they are on the press tour he can't stop flirting with her in interviews.

Interviewer: "You two have such different styles—Jack, you're all about the bars and swagger, and [Y/N], your music is dreamy and poetic. What was it like blending those worlds in your collaboration?"

Jack: grinning "Man, it was like putting hot sauce on vanilla ice cream. You wouldn’t think it works, but then you taste it, and you’re like, ‘Oh, this is kinda fire.’"

Y/N: laughing "Did you just compare my music to vanilla ice cream?"

Jack: "In the best way possible. It’s classic, it’s smooth, and everyone loves it. Meanwhile, I come in with the kick—you know, keep things spicy."

Y/N: rolling her eyes playfully "So I’m just plain vanilla?"

Jack: leaning in with a smirk "Nah, you’re that fancy vanilla bean kind. The expensive kind they keep locked up at the grocery store."

Interviewer: laughing "So would you say the collab pushed you both creatively?"

Jack: nodding "Absolutely. She made me tap into a softer side, and I think I made her realize rap isn’t just about flexing—sometimes it’s about storytelling too. She’s already a lyrical genius, though, so really, I was just tryna keep up."

Y/N: grinning "You did alright."

Jack: "Alright? Baby, tell them the truth."

Y/N: pretending to think "Okay, okay. You did good. Solid B+."

Jack: laughing "See, this is what I deal with!"

Interviewer: "Jack, you’re always praising [Y/N]'s music. What is it about her artistry that you admire the most?"

Jack: grinning "Everything. The lyrics, the emotion, the way she can make you feel like you’re floating while simultaneously breaking your heart. She could literally sing the alphabet and make you rethink your entire life."

Y/N: laughing "That’s dramatic."

Jack: "Nah, for real. I’ll be in the studio like, ‘Damn, should I be crying right now?’ And she’s just sitting there, all calm, like, ‘Jack, it’s a song about a garden.’"

Y/N: smirking "You did get emotional over that one."

Jack: "Because you made a metaphor about love and decay, and I wasn’t ready!"

Interviewer: "So when it comes to making music together, who takes the lead?"

Jack: "She does. No hesitation."

Y/N: raising an eyebrow "That’s funny, because I distinctly remember you acting like a control freak over the second verse."

Jack: hands up in defense "First of all, I was simply suggesting a minor, tiny, insignificant tweak—"

Y/N: "You rewrote it completely."

Jack: grinning "For the art!"

Y/N: shaking her head "Yeah, and then I changed it back."

Jack: "And that’s why she’s the boss."

Interviewer: "Jack, do you ever give [Y/N] rap lessons?"

Jack: laughing "Man, y’all are acting like she needs ‘em. She could out-rap half the dudes in the game if she wanted to."

Y/N: playfully smug "He’s just saying that because I freestyle better than him in the car."

Jack: grinning "Whoa, let’s not spread misinformation."

Y/N: "You want me to drop a verse right now?"

Jack: leaning back dramatically "Nah, let’s keep it peaceful. I’m tryna make it out of this interview alive."

Interviewer: "Jack, what’s your favorite song by [Y/N]?"

Jack: without hesitation "All of them."

Y/N: laughing "That’s such a cop-out answer."

Jack: "Nah, I really mean it. But if I had to choose… I’d say the one that was clearly written about me."

Y/N: raising an eyebrow "Oh? And which one is that?"

Jack: grinning "Every single love song you’ve ever written."

Y/N: "Wow, so humble."

Jack: "Listen, I’m just stating facts. You don’t gotta admit it now, just let the music speak for itself."

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #private garden #private garden imagine

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justlemmeadoreyou · 11 months ago

Text

2. the offer (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

(part 1 here)

summary: as you settle into the grueling routine at Haus, you find yourself seeking out any moment of praise or feedback from harry. you two develop an understanding, but it's still hard to focus when he's being...him. safe to say, it ends contrary to what you would have done if you were still the 16-year old smitten fangirl.

words: 5k

warnings: flirtations, some inappropriate behaviour, cursing

finally managed to use this pic in a fic!

***

"Keep your eyes on your own work, newbie!" Thomason's gruff yell made you jump, nearly burning your knuckles on the hot grill.

You whipped your head around guiltily to see the grumpy head chef scowling at you from across the kitchen line. His eyes followed your sheepish gaze to where you had been not-so-secretly watching Harry chatting easily with the maître d' by the kitchen's swing doors.

Feeling your cheeks get hot, you stammered an apology to Thomason before fully focusing on the sizzling food under your tongs. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the burly man roll his eyes in disgust before barking at someone else down the line.

Ever since that surprisingly nice interaction with Harry a few nights ago, you found your wandering thoughts kept getting...preoccupied whenever you had a free moment. You hated to admit it, but some unprofessional part of you kept replaying his words praising your potential while those kaleidoscope green eyes held your gaze with seeming sincerity.

Just remembering the slight rasp of his voice was enough to give you butterflies in your stomach anytime Harry was nearby. You tried to push those feelings down with shame, scolding yourself for entertaining even a hint of inappropriate conduct.

This was your dream job, your long-awaited chance to finally prove yourself in a real professional kitchen. Getting distracted by your silly childhood crush could derail everything you'd worked so hard for.

But despite your internal pep talks, you couldn't quite shake the electrifying tingles that spread through your body whenever Harry was within fifteen feet of you. As embarrassing as it was to admit, just his nearness alone was enough to make you flustered.

You blinked hard and refocused with renewed determination on assembling the line of beautifully seared steaks. Keep your head down, you firmly reminded yourself. Don't mess this up over some silly fantasies about your boss!

As if testing your resolve, you looked up from garnishing the plates to see Harry striding through the pass, easy grin in place. He opened his mouth to speak to one of the sauce cooks but seemed to notice you watching. His lips curved a bit smugger as his jade eyes met yours from across the sizzling line.

With a subtle but obvious look up and down your body, Harry winked before turning to murmur his instructions. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as an unexpected spike of nerves shot through you.

Was...was Harry actually flirting with you? Or had you just been so obviously drooling over him that he was amused to throw you a bone? Your face burned as you ruthlessly shook the thoughts away.

In any case, this was no time for getting flustered - the height of Friday night dinner service was upon you. With sheer willpower, you blocked out everything except perfectly executing each plate and order. Harry Styles was now off-limits in your mind.

Until, that is, you heard Thomason's gravelly shout over the din: "Styles! We need you over here!"

You risked a quick glance to see the head chef gesturing for Harry's attention from across the kitchen. With one last considering look in your direction, Harry sauntered over to join Thomason at the expo station just as the evening's first orders began flying in.

You watched, trying to be subtle, as Harry fell effortlessly into the choreographed rush. He moved with an easy confidence as he inspected each dish, adding a sauce here, delicately plating a garnish there. His broad shoulders flexed under his snug black t-shirt as he reached over cooks, communicating with nudges and gestures.

This kitchen was clearly his domain; Harry commanded the space with the born ease of a natural leader. You stared, captivated by the smooth fluidity of his motions, the barely contained power in his lean, tall frame. It was mesmerizing watching him work like a master conductor.

Without seeming to think about it, Harry's brow would furrow in concentration whenever a plate arrived at his station. His gaze would rove over each element, those full pink lips pursing as he scrutinized the arrangement intensely. There was something utterly gripping about watching him wield that intense focus on each dish, his large hands deft and precise.

Your mouth went dry as you caught the shift of taut forearm muscles beneath tanned skin as Harry wiped an artistic streak of sauce. He gave a curt nod to Thomason, his chiseled jawline tightening in approval.

You realized this raw charisma and talent was putting on an entrancing performance for you...almost like a private show if you let your thoughts wander inappropriately. Smacking your forehead sharply, you earned a concerned side-eye from a nearby cook. Yanking yourself back to the present, you redoubled your focus on the tickets before you. No more watching Harry, not when you couldn't afford a single mistake.

Despite your best efforts, the rest of the evening flew by in a blur. You cooked and plated automatically with precision...yet couldn't stop tracking Harry in your peripheral vision.

You saw him ducking out to handle a special order, then return with a rare olive oil for a dish alteration. You watched him joking with the bread server before snatching a buttery roll to taste the fresh bake. No matter where you turned, Harry always seemed to orbit nearby, that addictive charisma and easy grace undercutting your indifference attempts.

By the time Thomason finally called for station breakdown, your knees wobbled from the marathon stress combined with subtle Harry overload. You couldn't even feel good about handling such intensity because you were so emotionally drained.

As the crew began the process of cleaning and sanitizing, you heard a polite throat clearing behind you. You turned, already flushing, to find Harry watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Uh, hey," you croaked, shocked at your own cracking confidence around him. Harry arched one perfect brow but said nothing, seemingly waiting for you to gather yourself.

You swallowed hard before trying again. "Was...was there something you needed, Harry? I'm just about to start shutting everything down."

A slow grin spread across his lips as his eyes crinkled at the corners. For a strangely open moment, you felt like you could see straight into Harry's core - the intelligence and intensity normally hidden behind his lazy facade.

"You did brilliant tonight, you know?" he murmured, looking you up and down consideringly. "Thomason worked you hard, we all did - but you kept steady through the chaos no matter what."

Your stomach clenched with surprise at his open praise, tingling warmth blossoming outwards.

"O-oh. Um, thank you?" You winced at how flustered and uncertain you sounded.

But Harry's smile only deepened as he took an unhurried step towards you, decreasing the distance to mere inches. You could now catch the woodsy, leathery notes of his cologne taunting your senses.

"Nothing uncertain about it," he murmured, voice lowering an octave. His eyes traveled over your face before lingering on your chest. You felt unable to breathe under that smoldering gaze. "You're really getting the hang of this kitchen, aren't you?"

Despite your racing pulse, you bristled slightly at the implication. "Well, I still have a long way to go to be the cook you and Thomason are."

Those full lips curved at one corner. "True - but we both see the potential there, don't we?" Harry's voice had taken on a low, gravelly timbre that made something in your belly stir.

He took another casual step forward, crowding you back until the counter dug into your thighs. This close, you could see the gold and amber flecks in his green irises, feel the clean warmth of his body heat between you.

"You've got a long road ahead," he continued, so close now his words rasped against the side of your neck. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't noticed how quickly you're accelerating."

The way he said that last word made you shiver despite the kitchen's heat. Harry's gaze dipped to your parted lips, then flicked back up, intense.

"Tell me," he said in that same rumbling baritone. "Would you be open to my...personal mentorship? I could help get you up to speed even faster."

His meaning slammed into you like a shove. Was Harry...propositioning you? In an utterly inappropriate way that could get you fired?

Heart pounding, you could only gape at him, at a total loss. Part of you screamed at how wildly wrong this was, how you needed to shut it down immediately. This was your celebrity chef boss, for God's sake!

And yet, another part of you was utterly enthralled by the clear want in Harry's gaze, the visceral attraction crackling between you. All you'd need is to give a single nod and you could potentially experience pleasures you'd only fantasized about with one of the world's most desirable men...

Harry must have seen the conflict on your face because his lips twitched in a knowing smirk. Another half step forward brought your bodies almost flush, the hard planes of his chest brushing against your soft curves through his thin t-shirt. Your breath caught at the heated friction.

"Tell you what," Harry purred, his voice thick with suggestion. "Take a nice, hot shower after your shift tonight. Really think over my offer while you're alone."

With a searing look that felt X-rated, Harry reluctantly leaned back, restoring a sliver of propriety between you. Still, he held your heated stare as he reached out with one large hand and trailed his fingertips feather-light down your flushed cheek.

The barely-there caress sparked tingles everywhere. Your lips parted helplessly on a silent gasp as every nerve ending in your body felt sensitive.

A devilish glint sparked in Harry's eyes at your reaction. With a final wink, he turned to saunter off through the kitchen doors. You watched him go in a stupefied daze, unable to process anything beyond the strong throb now pulsing between your thighs.

What...had just happened? Your brain whirred trying to comprehend what precipitated that completely unprofessional come-on. Had you unconsciously encouraged Harry's advances somehow? Led him to believe you were open to that kind of...inappropriate relationship?

The mere thought of anyone perceiving you as willing to use your sexuality to get ahead made your stomach churn with shame. You had worked too damn hard to get here - you wouldn't risk tanking it all for some secret fling!

Yet a tiny part of you couldn't stop replaying Harry's scent, the timbre of his voice calling you "pet"...the unmistakable promise of illicit thrills in his heated gaze. You gave yourself a harsh internal shake, appalled that you could be so quickly led astray by such baseless temptation.

Steadying your breathing, you forced yourself to refocus on meticulously cleaning your station. One step at a time, that was all you could think about. Allow yourself to get distracted by Harry's appeal and you were doomed.

Though it took every ounce of willpower, you managed to lose yourself in the monotony of scrubbing and sanitizing. The rhythmic motions gradually purged those unwelcome jolts of arousal, until you felt more like yourself again.

Some twisted part of you couldn't resist a bitter laugh. As if Harry Styles, world-famous millionaire, would ever seriously pursue someone like you. No, whatever sparked that bold flirtation, it was undoubtedly just him amusing himself by yanking your chain hard.

Shaking your head disgustedly, you stacked your clean pans. This kind of negative self-talk was just as unproductive as indulging fantasies. Squaring your shoulders, you decided to follow Harry's advice - a hot shower was wise after a shift like tonight, then straight to bed.

Tomorrow was a new day to refocus and earn your place, plain and simple. As you hung up your apron, you resolved to greet Harry with a clear head, a smile, and firm professional boundaries from now on. Time to nip this nonsense.

Unfortunately, maintaining those boundaries proved far easier said than done. Over the next couple weeks, it seemed like Harry launched a campaign to slowly chip away at your sense of propriety.

It was like a game, seeing how far he could push before you combusted. Every time you'd settle back into your usual groove, Harry would level you with flirtatious comments.

Like when you restocked the walk-in shelves, so focused you didn't hear the door open behind you. The first hint of no longer being alone was the heat of Harry's chest against your back, molding from shoulder to hip.

His raspy exhale ghosted your neck as he purred, "Need any...extra hands to reach those hard-to-reach places, love?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the suggestive comment. Whirling around, you found yourself centimeters from his chiseled jaw, close enough to feel his amused chuckle.

He took a single step back, eyes shamelessly roving over your body before meeting your gaze, one eyebrow arched invitingly. You could only gape, robbed of coherent thoughts.

"I-I didn't hear you come in," you eventually stammered, trying in vain to will your blush away.

Harry simply tipped you a wink before squeezing past you through the narrow opening, his body dragging against yours with every micro-movement. By the time he sauntered out whistling, you were gripping the shelves to keep upright.

It wasn't just the innuendos and lingering looks Harry leveled at you that made you feel like you were losing it. He'd instigate small, casual intimacies while you worked, completely eroding your focus.

Like when you labored over a roulade during prep, Harry hovered at your shoulder to murmur appreciated groans about "how good you are at working that lengthy meat with your bare hands."

You froze, blood rushing to your cheeks as Harry's heated gaze bore into you. His lips twitched as he deliberately looked you up and down, taking in your flushed throat.

"Among other things," he added in a tone dripping with innuendo, making you nearly drop the roulade. Harry threw you a scorching look before sauntering off, leaving you flustered.

Another time, you garnished a plate when you felt Harry's hard body press against your back. His large hands caged you in as he leaned down. You froze, breath catching, as his nose skimmed along your neck to the soft spot beneath your ear.

"Mmm, you smell delicious," Harry rumbled, his gravelly voice sparking tingles everywhere his warm breath hit. "I could just eat you up, petal."

You barely suppressed a whimper at the heated promise in his tone, squeezing your thighs together as arousal flooded you. Harry chuckled low, leaving you feverish and shaky after brushing his lips along your ear.

Moments like these rapidly became the norm - heated glances, suggestive remarks laced with innuendo, lingering casual touches far past professional boundaries. It left you feeling unmoored and disoriented, certain the prize was something deliriously illicit.

You tried to shut it down at first, offering polite reminders about conduct. But Harry only grinned, as if you barely registered. "Relax, love. Harmless flirting between coworkers never hurt anyone."

As the incidents persisted, your token protests grew weaker. Though you refused to admit it, some part of you began craving Harry's heated focus and suggestive teasing like an addiction.

He always paid you those inappropriate compliments while deeply engrossed in showpiece cooking. As if he derived pleasure from flustering you amid such intense artistry.

Truthfully, it did add an undercurrent of charged tension to mundane tasks - feeling Harry's eyes tracking your hands as you worked, knowing he was eye-undressing you. Though you refused to meet his gaze, a delicious shiver inevitably rippled through you.

He'd hover nearby with a murmured narration: "Oh yeah, petal...use both hands to really get a good grip on that shaft...fucking gorgeous watching you stroke it like that..."

No matter how disciplined you tried to be, Harry's sly innuendo always made your mind race with X-rated visuals of intimacy. You'd bite your cheek to keep from whimpering, consumed by arousal and shame equally.

By the time work ended each night, you felt punch-drunk and disoriented, like you'd run an erotic marathon. More than once, Harry would further mercilessly bait you in those vulnerable moments.

"You look thoroughly debauched, petal," he'd purr, eyes burning into yours before dragging down your sweat-dampened form. "Care to skip the hot shower and come home with me instead? I'll give those talented hands a real workout..."

You swore Harry could make any phrase sound filthy. On too many nights, you fled to your car - face flushed, breath uneven, core throbbing - envisioning how those invitations might unfold.

In quieter moments, bitter self-recrimination was your companion. How had you let yourself become such a pathetic, distracted mess over meaningless flirting? No matter how heated Harry's stares felt, he was your famous boss while you were nobody.

Your entire career and reputation rested on maintaining a strict professional boundary, no matter how electrifying and tempting your boss's overt sexuality. You resolved on more than one drive home to simply start shutting things completely down as soon as inappropriate comments began, no matter how intoxicating they felt.

Sadly, as soon as you stepped back into the thick of Harry's potent charisma and sensual magnetic field, your willpower tended to erode embarrassingly fast.

One morning during a high-stress meal prep, you trudged towards the walk-in in search of more chives. Harry looked up sharply from his sauce station as you passed his station and snagged your wrist to halt you. The unexpected gesture made you jump, and you whirled to find his eyes already roving hungrily over you.

"Wait," he rumbled, not bothering with any professionalism as his heated stare settled on your lips. Before you could question him, Harry tugged you flush against the long hard planes of his body, caging you against his workstation with his pelvis slotted snugly between your thighs.

The sheer eroticism of that ardent man-handling and friction punched the breath from your lungs. You could only stare up at Harry with wide, lust-blown eyes, momentarily bemused into stillness as his forearm came to rest beside your head, his deliciously musky sandalwood scent surrounding you in an intoxicating cloud.

"You've got a smear of sauce right..." Harry breathed against your mouth, so close now you could taste the earthy spice on his warm breath. His free hand came up to cup your jaw tenderly, rough thumb swiping out to trace the seam of your parted lips. "Here."

Your chest heaved against his in tiny, panting gasps. Any remaining illusion of boundary, lay in crumbling ruins around your feet. There was no mistaking Harry's seduction for mere playful teasing at this proximity, and indecency.

This was him finally making his play, naked want and desire radiating off his tall frame in scorching waves as his searing gaze clung to your mouth. Every ounce of blood in your body rushed straight between your thighs in anticipation.

You remained utterly motionless, rendered speechless and hyper-focused entirely on the sizzling feedback of sensation Harry's proximity inspired. He was absolutely everywhere - the heat of his body seeping under your skin, the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his chest brushing against yours, the gravelly white noise of his ragged breathing surrounding your senses.

Every rational thought in your mind screamed at you to gather some shred of control and push him away, firmly shut this down before it escalated further than you could ever recover from. But you remained frozen in place, utterly possessed by the intoxicating anticipation of what those plump, virile lips would feel like finally slanting over your own.

Just as your last vestiges of propriety and worry threatened to shatter, a ringing clatter of trays against metal echoed in the hallway. Both of you jumped as if electrocuted, the tension between your pressed bodies dissipating in an instant as reality came crashing back. You stumbled backwards, putting several feet between you, just as one of the prep cooks rounded the corner lugging a heavy trolley.

Harry cleared his throat roughly and shifted to put more workspace between you, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. The aborted moment seemed to penetrate the fog of arousal, harsh light returning to his dilated emerald eyes as they flickered across you. You wrapped your arms around your midsection defensively, suddenly feeling small and skittish under the weight of his palpable discomfort.

The prep cook sailed by with a polite nod, oblivious to the fraught tableau he'd interrupted. As soon as he rounded the corner again, Harry shook his head and grasped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut in clear frustration.

You watched with bated breath, anxiety coiled in your belly, as he seemed to wrestle with some internal dilemma. When Harry finally opened his eyes again, the naked hunger that had consumed him only moments ago was carefully veiled once more behind that affable, dimpled mask.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, more to himself than you. Straightening, Harry met your uncertain gaze head-on, his own shuttered and inscrutable. "That was...completely out of line. Unprofessional of me."

Your heart stammered in your chest at the curt dismissal, warm arousal rapidly cooling into brittle rejection. Of course this had all been a mere game to Harry, one he lost interest in as soon as the threat of consequences loomed. You were such a fool to have let yourself get caught up in the fantasy.

Fighting to keep your expression neutral, you gave a small, tight nod. "It's alright, Harry. I understand. We got...carried away there for a moment." The flimsy excuse felt pathetic even to your own ears, but you pressed on. "It won't happen again, I can assure you."

Something flickered behind Harry's gaze at your reassurance, though you couldn't parse its meaning. He maintained the weighted silence for a heavy pause before finally replying.

"See that it doesn't," he replied evenly, a subtle edge to his deep timbre. "We're professionals in a workplace, after all. No matter what harmless games we play at, I'd hate to see you get...distracted from your goals here, petal."

You flinched at the petname, once again. Color bloomed hot across your cheeks at the insinuation that you would be the one unable to draw the line between flirtation and flat-out unprofessional conduct.

Disappointment and shame swirled sickeningly in your gut alongside lingering arousal. Before you could formulate a response, Thomason's bellow echoed across the kitchen, shockingly close. "Oi! Either get back to your stations or take the grope fest to the alley already! Some of us got shit to do today!"

If you thought you were flushed before, it was nothing compared to the full-body conflagration sparked by the head chef's words. You opened and closed your mouth soundlessly, utterly mortified at being caught out in such compromising circumstances, as Thomason stomped closer into view with a disgusted scowl.

"What the fuck are you two playing at, huh?" he demanded gruffly, stabbing an accusatory finger first at you then Harry. "Styles, I expected this kind of shitty lack of focus from a prima donna rock star jackass - but you?" He swung his narrowed glare your way, making you shrink back involuntarily. "If you want to keep getting world-class knowledge dropped on your dumb ass, try keeping it in your goddamn pants around the maestro for five fucking minutes!"

If possible, your flush deepened even further at his harsh reprimand. Shame roiled nauseously as you struggled to meet Thomason's furious glare, much less Harry's eerily impassive one. This was it, the humiliating moment you'd been dreading - getting outed as just another silly starstruck girl unable to rein in inappropriate impulses around her famous boss.

Just as you began mentally drafting your letter of resignation, Harry finally broke the tension by letting out a low chuckle. You shot him an incredulous glance, but he simply shook his head, dimples creasing his cheeks ruefully. Raising placating hands, he turned to the seething Thomason with an engaging grin.

"Easy there, Paulie. No need to get your apron twisted, nothing skeevy going on here I assure you." Dropping one hand to your shoulder, Harry gave it a firm squeeze, muscles in his bicep flexing enticingly. "Our young prodigy and I were just engaged in a bit of innocent culinary mentorship. You know how hands-on and intense those private tutorials can get."

His lascivious emphasis made it clear there was nothing 'innocent' about the nature of contact you'd nearly devolved into. But Thomason seemed to relax marginally all the same, giving a grunt of grudging acceptance.

"Fine, but keep your dick out of the dough while you're on my clock, capisce?" he growled at Harry, ignoring your scandalized gasp as he turned on his heel to stomp away. "Christ, I feel like I'm running a fucking fry shack instead of a Michelin kitchen..."

You watched his retreating back, utterly stunned into speechlessness by the unbelievable turn of events. Was...that seriously it? Harry had just implicitly outed your unprofessional indiscretion, and the consequences amounted to mild ribbing and a halfhearted reprimand?

Slowly, you pivoted to face Harry once more, utterly at a loss. His hand was still a scorching brand on the cool exposed skin of your shoulder, eyes glinting with that same indefinable mischief you'd witnessed him deploying to charm countless others.

As if sensing where your thoughts were headed, Harry quirked a knowing smile before finally withdrawing his touch. "Don't look so stricken, love. Paulie likes to play the crusty hardass, but far as he's concerned - as long as the work gets done right, whatever happens off the clock is nobody's business but our own."

His emphasis on those last few words rang with clear unspoken suggestion. But unlike before, you felt firmly centered in yourself enough to shake off any arousal. Lifting your chin defiantly to meet his smoldering gaze, you replied in a low, measured tone:

"Then with all due respect, Harry...I believe I'll pass."

For the first time all evening, the suave restaurateur looked briefly taken aback. You refused to let the flicker of uncertainty show as you pressed on, keeping your voice carefully modulated.

"I've put in far too much time and hard work getting here to jeopardize it all over some...tawdry infatuation. So while I'm flattered by the attention, and your willingness to keep things discreet, I have to draw the line at anything more than a professional mentorship."

Harry's eyes narrowed fractionally, clearly unaccustomed to such outright rejection. You refused to quail, squaring your shoulders as you laid it all on the table.

"My dreams are bigger than being another disposable conquest for my famous boss to slum with in secret. If you can't see me as more than that...well then, I wish you the very best. But our relationship can only be strictly chef-to-chef from here on out."

You paused to let the weight of your impassioned words hang between you, searching Harry's expression for any flicker of reaction. For several tense moments, the only sounds were the distant murmurings of kitchen noises and your own thundering pulse.

Then, as if an invisible switch clicked, Harry's stony demeanour melted away - replaced by a look of grudging amusement and what could only be begrudging respect. The familiar dimples you adored so much reappeared as his lips curved into a wry half-smile.

"I see," he replied at last, voice low and considering. "Well then. If those are your terms, I can hardly expect any less from such an admirably principled young chef, can I?"

Another beat passed between you, the tension slowly bleeding out to be replaced with the subtlest charge of intrigue. Harry's emerald gaze roamed over you in a way that felt far more evaluative than outright sensual before he spoke again.

"Very well then. A professional mentorship it shall be, with all the rigor and boundaries that implies. But make no mistake..." Here his lips stretched into a lopsided smirk that somehow felt both conspiratorial and vaguely provocative. "I expect you to rise to every challenge and be an exceptionally eager pupil, my dear."

You couldn't quite suppress the shiver that rippled through you at his lilting promise, despite your best efforts. If anything, the glint in Harry's eye only sharpened at your reaction, his grin taking on a hint of satisfaction.

Wanting to flee the weighted tension before it could reset that dangerous gravitational pull between you, you quickly gave a curt nod before turning on your heel to walk away. "Then we have an understanding. I won't let you down, Chef.”

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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reverieblondie · 2 years ago

Text

The Dare

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Stealing Stuff, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Degrading, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Hair Pulling, Fingering, Reader is called Slut.

Summary: Hobie takes the dare game up a notch. Unexpected events ensue...

A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever so please be kind! If I missed any warnings or my grammar and spelling sucks please just let me know. I thought this idea was funny so figured I would share!

Word Count: 5,757 (still working on my editing skills so warning)

Hobie casually struts into view, wearing Peter's favorite pink robe. He has a smirk on his face. He obviously was successful in the dare.

You, Hobie, Gwen and Ben were passing time at HQ by having a friendly game of daring each other to do things, you all recently got done with a mission so it was perfect to kill time, Gwen had suggested truth or dare but Hobie said that dares only would make for a better game. It started innocently enough like reading the last text message you sent your crush, drinking a bottle of hot sauce but you can’t drink anything else for 10 minutes, and going to dance in the cafeteria to no music to see if anyone joins you, but it quickly diverted to more dangerous dares.

“I can't believe you were able to get that” Ben laughs out as Hobie strikes poses while Gwen and you cheer him on

“Oh this was nothing mate, I do believe that is your turn for a dare Miss Y/N”

You look at Hobie with a smirk, if he was trying to scare you it wasn't going to work. “I can handle whatever you throw at me Hobie, all these dares have been a cakewalk so far”

Hobie smirks, “Why don't we get you something challenging then, hm?”

You shrug feeling confident “I'm not scared of any dare”

“Any dare?”

“Yep!”

“No backing out aye?”

“No backing out” you grin, feeling that he wouldn't be able to think of anything too crazy, but you forget this is Hobie, and he loves to push the limits.

Hobie thinks for a moment, his face contorted with thought, and then a wicked smirk flashes on his face, he looks at you and leans in knowing he had a perfect dare.

“I dare you to steal a pair of Miguel's underwear” Gwen and Ben exchange shocked looks then look back at you, brows furrowed mouth agape you are equally as shocked by the request.

“What?!”

Hobie goes to repeat but is quickly cut off by you interrupting him “Eh…Please don't repeat it I heard you.” This causes Hobie to laugh

“So are you game?”

you think for a moment, that stealing Miguel’s underwear…this was definitely a challenge and a bit of a gamble on your life. But you would never hear the end of it from Hobie if you backed out now. Face riddled with concern you look up at Hobie, a fire in your eye blooms not wanting to be beaten.

“I'm game!”

You and Hobie shake hands the dare is on, no backing out now.

You first had to think about a game plan to get Miguel's underwear. It's not like you can just walk up and ask the guy, he was the big boss he could crush your head like a peanut. Plus it didn't help that you had a fat crush on him, and now you have to nab his underwear.

Taking a deep breath you headed to Miguel's room in HQ. You ducked around corners and made sure you were not being followed or looking too suspicious, though that wasn't easy to do considering you were sweating bullets. Miguel's room was known to be located at the top of HQ, being the leader and founder of the Spider Society means you get to have a penthouse suite at your job you guess.

You had only ever been to the door of his room once, you had forgotten to give him your mission reports on time so you had to hand deliver them one night at Miguel's irritated request, you remember that night having to rush the paperwork over and banging on the door, for Miguel to reveal himself in sweatpants and an oversized shirt hair lose from a recent shower. Seeing him in such a casual state had worsened your crush. Miguel just gave you the same furrowed expression he always seemed to have glued to his face, looking you up and down before he took your reports without uttering a word to you.

After that night you couldn't help but fantasize about Miguel doing more casual mundane things, like grocery shopping or maybe telling jokes to you, the guy was in a consistent state of stress so thinking about him relaxed made you excited. People might think it would be weird but hey it's your fantasy, not theirs.

Finally making your way to the top you peek around a corner looking at his door. There is no one around from what you can tell, so you check your watch. Perfect it's still afternoon, Miguel, the workaholic he is, never leaves his office early so you still have plenty of time. Sneaking over to the door you try the handle, and to your surprise…it's unlocked? Huh? Miguel should lock his room. There are some real weirdos out there, the current weirdo being you. Then again what idiot would be dumb enough to sneak into Miguel's private space? Oh yeah thanks to the dare, you!

Through the door you steadily walk in, the living room is huge, nicely lit, minimalist design, and very clean, a total opposite to Miguel's office which is dark with all kinds of clutter. A nice large sofa and a TV that hardly looks like it's ever been used decorate the space, attached to the vast living room, a kitchen with a sleek-looking island and very modern appliances, some you can't even recognize. As you go further and further in his suite, you tiptoe around looking at everything, if you didn't know this was Miguel's place you would have never thought that anyone lived here, so devoid of any kind of personality. Maybe he's just a minimalist?

As you quietly walk through the impressive suite you hear a noise that stops you in your tracks. You look and see a door that is slightly cracked, you examine the door cautiously slowly making your approach. Another noise draws you in closer, a grunt?

Thanks to your careful steps you manage to sneak to the door and peer inside without making a sound. Peering through the slit of the door you lean in to survey what caught your attention, your eyes widened at the sight and your breath instantly halts.

There he is Miguel, your leader, your crush fully nude standing in his master bedroom, head thrown back eyes screwed shut, fangs fully extended, moaning in pleasure as he tightly fucks his cock with his hand. His hips are jutting forward slightly, his angry red tip leaking glistening precum that only aids in his feverish fucking. His muscles are tense and rippling, each moan makes his massive body shake. You are mesmerized by the sight, you're sure your jaw is on the floor. You are watching Miguel O’Hara fucking his hand chasing any kind of release.

Continuing to watch his relentless pursuit, your excitement builds as you watch. Mouth dry and wanting to desperately attach yourself to his cock and lick and suck till your thirst is quenched from his release. Your thoughts run rampant, you shouldn’t be watching this, it's wrong, but you can’t take your eyes off him. His tanned skin glowing with the subtle sheen of sweat, his moans egging him on and equally you.

The whole display has you tightening your thighs together, your arousal ls pooling in your panties. He starts to move with more sloppiness, slipping incoherent words in Spanish to the air and he gets close to his high. Then to your pleasure, sticky white ropes escape him and cover his large hand painting him white. He continues to pump for a few more moments, slightly shaking as he does. He then opens his eyes, grabs a towel resting on his bed and cleans himself, as he’s cleaning he gives a small sigh looking more relaxed during his come down and takes a deep inhale from his nose. Then he stops and his face contorts to confusion, taking another whiff of the air again he looks towards the slightly ajar door.

You jump quickly backpedaling from the door, did he see you? Shit you need to hide, you quickly tiptoe to the next door finding yourself in what looks like a home office. You look around the room quickly scanning for a place to hide, a desk catches your attention, this will have to do. Quickly hiding below it you hear Miguel walking slowly into the room looking around. Heart beating rampant you place your hand over your mouth and steady your breathing, you can not get caught he will kick you out of society or worse kill you!

Miguel scratches his head and gives a slight “huh” before leaving the room and going back to the bedroom. You wait a few moments before you poke your head out cautiously. Looks all clear, you quickly go to make your escape, but then you stop the dare…you got to get that underwear, it was just a stupid game but your pride was going to get the better of you and you didn’t want to be subjected to Hobies teasing of how you couldn’t hack it after all your big talk. You swallow down your fear and turn towards the bedroom door.

You approach the door hesitantly and place your ear to it, you hear what sounds like a shower, Miguel must be doing some aftercare for himself. Taking all risks you gently open the door and peer inside your spider senses helping to guide you through feeling no immediate danger. Peering inside you see the room is empty. Walking in you look for a dresser but with no luck, the only thing you see is a large bed and nightstand, ever the minimalist huh Miguel? Your eyes go to the door on the side of the room where you hear the shower being used.

This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid! You're going to get seen! Thinking to yourself as you slowly crack open the door to the master bathroom. Looking through the crack you see a silhouette of Miguel in the shower, the glass is steamed over from the intestine heat of the water he is cleaning himself with. It’s so hot that as you carefully crawl in you feel the heat and humidity in the air thick and making it hard to breathe.

Miguel is something else to take such scouring showers. You look around, eyes darting all over the floor for any chance of dirty clothes and then to the fogged-up shower making sure he is still blissfully unaware of the invasion of privacy. Your eyes catch what looks to be another door that you are betting to be his closest, you quickly crawl over and sneak into the closet carefully shutting the door behind you.

Looking around the closet you see a variety of different clothes ranging from tee shirts and jens to luxury suits and jackets. Your attention falls to a leather jacket that you can’t help but touch, imagining how wonderful he must look in this jacket, what you wouldn’t give…you quietly slap your hands to your cheeks trying to refocus. you're on a mission here!

Surveying around your eyes lands on what seems to be a dresser. Quickly rushing over you open the first small drawer, socks in various neutral colors. Okay, drawer number two, you open and bingo! There they are Miguel’s assortment of underwear, boxers or briefs? He’s a brief man.

Eyeing the underwear you feel a tinge of embarrassment and guilt looking at his underwear, this is pretty perverse, you already watched him masterbait now taking his underwear? Well, it's only because of the dare that makes it less perverse right? You did get excited from watching him, do you have a problem? Too horny maybe? You shrug that’s something you will ponder another day, today you have a mission. Plunging your hand in the drawer you take the first pair your hand falls to, navy blue. This will have to work!

Still hearing the shower you are thankful he seems to be taking his time. Going to make your escape you head for the door, then just your luck, the shower turns off, fuck. Quickly backtracking to the closet you hide yourself leaving a crack so you peer out to watch.

Miguel wipes the fogged-up glass of the shower revealing his damp hair cascading down his forehead, the water rolling down his chiseled physique, you feel your heat dripping down as you watch. Note to self find an excuse to pour water on Miguel so you can see him dripping wet again. You watch with intrigue as he swiftly wraps his towel around his narrow waist drawing attention to his deep v.

It takes everything in you to not drool and melt away into a puddle on his floor. Every movement of his routine made you desire him more and more, you were down bad. Miguel brushes his hair back with his hands and that has you almost losing all sense, why is everything he does so sexy? You need to get a grip. Studying him you wait for an opportunity to make your escape without getting caught, just have to be patient now. He's looking at himself in the mirror looking at his jaw and inspecting his face, he then widens his lips to reveal his teeth and fangs on full display.

The sight of his fangs has you holding your breath. That’s right if you get caught he would have no problem using those things on you, actually, that’s not a terrible idea…no! Too horny, get out of here!

Miguel opens a drawer at the sink and pulls out some floss, he tentatively pulls a long string out and begins to floss around his teeth making sure to go carefully around his fangs. Why is this oddly adorable? Scary Spider man adorably flossing, and very cute. Miguel gets done flossing and licks his teeth, then something you never thought you would ever see. He smiles to himself in the mirror before quickly going back to his permanent neutral state. Too bad he doesn't smile more often; you often try to make him smile when you get to interact with him at work. Telling jokes, funny stories, smiling and waving as you pass him but nothing has ever seemed to work out for you.

Miguel sighs and shakes his head going away from the mirror to his bedroom. Okay, enough daydreaming you need to get out of here quickly. You decide the best way to sneak out is to crawl on the wall, you start scaling the wall crawling on the ceiling. He left the door to the room open so you peek your head in, and it’s all clear. You crawl through and go to exit his bedroom as you are about to get down to open the door. It swings open causing you to quickly flatten yourself to the ceiling. Miguel walks in with a bottle of water in hand still in a towel from the shower. As he is right under you he stops and sniffs, shit shit! Why does he keep doing that? Do you smell? You took a shower this morning, you should not be smelling.

As Miguel whips his head side to side you quickly and quietly slip out the bedroom before he has a chance to get wise and look up.

You quickly get down from the ceiling and start making your pursuit to the door. You did it! You made it, you got the underwear! Oh, the look on Hobie’s face is going to be priceless!

Suddenly, as you are about to reach out to the knob and make your escape, feeling the high of success you are pulled back and swiftly turned around to be met with a crimson-eyed Miguel, and he looks pissed. It’s in this moment you wish to see Miguel who was smiling but you're not getting that side of him you're getting Miguel burning with rage. “I thought I fucking smelled you…” okay wow, ouch? Do you smell bad? Before you can say anything his hand grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks “What are you doing in my room?”

You stare at him, lips puckered and eyes wide, this is how you die…

Miguel squeezes you harder “Answer me…” he growls, he’s so close to you, you can feel the vibration in his chest, his heat burning your skin his smell invading your senses, it’s intoxicating being this close, he's not wearing a shirt and only in those familiar sweatpants, you can’t help but notice your panties getting soaked. However you can’t get lost in the fantasy right now, you’ve been caught and you need to focus on not losing your life.

“I’m sorry” you mutter out as best you can. Miguel continues to stare daggers into you, he wants more of an answer than that.

“I didn’t think you would be here”

Miguel releases your face and now keeps his hands on your arms pinning you to the nearest wall. “Why would you even come in here?” He looks you up and down for a moment and that’s when he sees what’s in your hands, his eyes widening in surprise “Is that…”

“Wait! Miguel, I can explain! This isn't what it looks like!”

Miguel tilts his head at you, “Yeah? Because it looks like you're a nasty little perv”

His derogation sends shivers down your spine and makes your sex even more wet.

Miguel studies you seeing your flushed features, can he sense that you're getting turned on? The answer is yes, “I should have known you were here, your sweet scent tainting the air.”

Okay, what the hell? You furrow your eyebrows at him “Do I smell? You keep saying that I smell?”

Miguel lifts an eyebrow at your face still stern but not so much angry “I can smell your arousal pooling in your panties” he grips you tighter “I may not have that little danger alarm like the rest of you but that doesn’t mean my other senses are not heightened. And right now I can smell just how excited you are, was this your plan? Watch me, take my underwear, and get caught? Or is getting caught just a pleasant surprise for you?”

Miguel lends down whispering in the shell of your ear, his warm breath causing your skin to tingle “And don’t try to deny it”

Your breath hitches for a moment “I didn't mean to watch it was an accident”

“What about you getting so turned on?” He stares intensely at you, you feel your face flush with embarrassment and clench your thighs together. You are turned on, desperately so. His voice is so sultry, even him bullying you is causing you excitement. Looking into his red eyes his face seems less of rage and more of fascination.

“I-I couldn't help myself.”

His hands slowly slide down your arms to your waist, and he buries his head in your neck, smelling you taking you in. The feeling of his breath fanning over your skin makes you think you will instantly melt. Your eyes flutter, closed breath becomes heavy and he rubs his nose slowing up your neck. Finally, he moves away from your neck and looks at your blown-out eyes and flushed cheeks, he smirks, oh you're in danger.

Miguel suddenly turns you around pressing your chest and face to the wall, his hand grazes your ass before roughly spanking you, causing your hips to buckle forward releasing a high-pitched yelp. His weight leans on you and his knee drives up into your wet cunt, the slight friction makes your head jerk back and clit to tingle. Miguel chuckles and he brings his face into your hair smelling you before reaching and grabbing a handful of hair, pulling slightly. His lips slightly graze your ear as he speaks.

“You're a bad little slut aren't you?”

“N-no'm not”

Another spank smacks across your ass “Oh, I think you are though. Sneaking in here watching me and taking my stuff, good girls don't do that.” He purrs

He leans more into you and you can feel just how big and hard he is. Miguel's hands find the zipper to your suit slowly zipping it down “Tell me to keep going, tell me how much you want it”

Pushing yourself from the wall you nod your head, your mind hazy from the desire to be touched more. Forgetting all about pride, forgetting all about the dare, your only thoughts are your desires.

Miguel tsks at you and stops unzipping your suit “Use your words Cariño or I will stop”

“Yes, I want it! Please!” You whine slightly rubbing yourself on his knee desperate for any kind of friction.

“What are you bebé?” Releasing the zipper of your suit that now reveals your bare back to him, He swiftly brings a hand to tug your hair, he's going to make you beg and plead, isn't he? Biting your lip you feel him shove his knee further into you, his other hand going to your hip to help guide you as you rub yourself practically riding his knee like a bitch in heat as he continues his torment.

“Your needly slut! Please just take me Miguel!”

With that Miguel releases his grip from your hair and hip peeling down your suit revealing your naked body to him, he eyes you for a moment drinking in every curve and dip of your soft skin slowly running his hands down your sides whispering incoherent filth in your ear before he quickly turns you around and scoops you in his arms carrying you to his bedroom.

He practically kicks his door in tossing you on the bed, before you can get your bearings his hands are on your ankles dragging you closer. He stares intensely at you like a predator about to devour its prey.

Miguel crawls on top of you, his breath fanning over your lips, he carefully takes his thumb and swipes it over your bottom lip. “Soft…” is all he mutters before he kisses you, softly first then quickly heating up to a sloppy ravenous hunger to taste you. His hands paw all over your body squeezing all over and grabbing handfuls of you desperately. When you break away for air he can't help but

lick wet stripes on your neck then give you slight nips, his fangs slightly grazing you careful not to break your skin.

He trails down peppering kisses down your heated body, your bra is quickly tossed off of you causing your breast to bounce before him letting out a yelp to the suddenness of his action. Miguel stares for a moment watching your nipples peak, He just smirks and massages them before latching himself to your peaked nipple, first lapping with his tongue before biting with a tug. You moan and whimper at his teasing, playfully biting and licking one as he pinches and pulls the other.

He travels lower, his eyes staying on your face watching each reaction, he's studying you, he wants to note what every kiss, bite, lick, and tug does to you. When he finally reaches your heated sex he examines your panties, soft blue with a very noticeable dark spot, he rubs his middle finger across your wet panties taking in how your body shakes at his touch and you push yourself into him more. The hard-on in his sweatpants is aching to be released, but he wants to punish you for your perverted behavior.

“Look at what you have done to your pretty panties princesa, acting like a dirty slut has ruined them” his finger rubs on your clothed clit digging into your folds and ruining your underwear further. You can only moan and plead for him to continue, your cunt aching to be filled with anything, getting impossibly wetter as he continues his teasing. Rocking your hips faster on his finger desperate for friction on your clit, you really are needy.

He slaps his hand down on your clothed cunt causing you to jump and moan at the bullying. “No, rushing me princesa” he's making sure to go painfully slow, he wants you to beg for it.

He slips your panties off slowly, watching your sweetness leak out of you, your needy pussy is clenching around nothing desperate to be filled. You are a rambling mess of pleading and whimpering as Miguel tortures you with his slow lingering touches. Miguel slowly dives his face into your cunt and nose pushing your clit making your body jerk and moan, he takes in your smell getting drunk on your sweet secretion. He lifts his head and leads his head on your thigh “Such a sweet-smelling slut, you know how long you have been teasing me?”

He starts to run his finger through your slick folds “walking around me all aroused, making me have to smell you without getting to taste you”

He Plunges his finger into you, his large finger going knuckle deep and curling slowly in you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit making your vision blur from how deep he is. As you wetten he slips in another finger filling you up, your breathing becoming desperate, back starts to arch, and hands flying to your hair. He continues his pursuit moving his fingers around your gummy walls searching for that sweet spot of yours. When it's finally found you're seeing stars and clenching tightly on his fingers, your hands flying down to hold his wrist as he continues to make you ride his hand. Miguel just watches as you approach your high “Do you know what all that teasing does to a man?”

He suddenly pulls away as you are reaching your peak. His fingers are glazed with your wetness. Smiling down at you he puts his wet fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean, eyes never leaving yours. He takes them out of with mouth with a pop “Makes a man hungry Hermosa”

You have tears pooling in your eyes being robbed of your orgasm, you start begging him to continue whimpering and flustered as he just watches you beg.

“You're such a needy little slut huh?”

Nodding feverishly you agree to everything that leaves his mouth

“You know? I think I know how to correct your bad behavior”

Standing from the bed he removes his sweatpants, his hard cock flicking up to hit his stomach leaving precum in its wake. Staring intently at you he starts pumping his massive cock throbbing for friction. All you can do is watch him wide-eyed sure you saw it earlier but now it's going to be inside of you. His length and girth are so big you don't even know if it would fit in your tight pussy, but you are aquiver to try, whimpering at his display.

“We got to fuck it out of you Hermosa, you want that? You want me to fill up and teach you a lesson?”

You nod and spread your legs wider for him. Miguel slips out a moan, eyeing your spread open sex. All for him, begging for him, he almost can't help himself from immediately thrusting into you.

“Words?” he says, still pumping himself, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes I am bad, teach me a lesson! Fuck me, ah please Miguel!”

Miguel Grabs your face and laughs at you “No need to beg, such a desperate thing” he shakes his head. Teasing still makes your skin tingle and nipples to perk evermore. Truth be told he loves your begging, he's getting drunk off your eagerness for him.

He watches as your cunt clenches around nothing begging to be filled. He lines up and slowly rubs his length between your folds gathering your slick before slowly inching in his tip. His cock feels like fire as he slowly stretches you open, heating your soft slick walls. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep from clenching allowing him to slip in.

“Mm, that’s right, fit it in Hermosa”

The initial pain quickly becomes pleasure as he splits you open, heating you slowly going inch by inch stretching you deliciously. Your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and you close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over you. Suddenly Miguel slams his full length into you, filling you instantly and bullying into your cervix, the head of his cock nudging your g spot. The sensation causes your eyes to shoot open, you digging your nails into his shoulders and the air in your lungs to escape you.

“Keep your eyes open and on me”

Following his demands you watch him, eyes glaze over as you get cock drunk on his relentless rutting. Miguels just laughs as he rolls his hips back and slams into you again and again forcing you to stretch open and take him in. Usually, he would warm someone up a bit more before he starts fucking them so forcefully, but you've been a little pervert so you need to be taught what happens when you're bad. All you can do is moan and shake as he bullies your tight cunt making it form to his shape.

“That's it, baby, take it”

He continues to rut into you pulling back to the tip before slamming back in, thoroughly fucking you dumb. Eyes crossed and mouth hanging open muttering incoherently. Miguel leans down and kisses you sloppily still fucking you at a brutal pace, taking your jaw and making your mouth open wider he spits in your mouth.

“Swallow” he demains

Quickly following his demands you swallow and open your mouth again to show him how obedient you can be to him, you really are like a dog..

“Good girl” He rewards you by snaking his hand to your clit and rubbing it in circular motions.

You are quickly approaching your high toes curling, legs wrapping around Miguel's waist, and hands clawing into his back leaving scratch marks painting all the way down his back. Your walls start to clamp down on him.

“Ah, Mig ah Miguel I'm close, please!”

His massive cock abusing your sensitive spot has you seeing stars and pussy creaming all over him, leaving a white ring around his cock finally cumming around him. He continues chasing his release as he helps you ride out your orgasm. His cock continues to fill you pulsating as he reaches his orgasm. The sounds of your wet pussy and the slapping of skin fill the room. His rhythm becomes sloppy and pounding harder into you

“You hear that? Ah, such a needy pussy. Where do you want it huh? When does my dirty slut want my cum? Her stomach? Ah, Face? Mm inside?”

“Inside!” You beg, approaching your second high.

“Oh? Do you want me to fill you up? Such a greedy slut aren't you?”

You begin to see white, his relentless pace making your head empty.

“I said, Aren't you!” he pounds harder, making everything shake and you scream in pleasure.

“Yes! Im so fucking greedy!” you're practically sobbing at the pace he's set. You think you're going to break as he takes your legs and pushes your knees to your face, making him slip what you thought was impossibly deeper. Miguel angles himself that has you clamping down on him squirting out on his cock.

With that Miguel stops moving, hips completely flushed with you, his body shakes as he releases his hot thick cum inside of you giving out a moan that vibrates through his wide chest. His hot load warms your insides, mixing in with your release causing you to shudder. Miguel looks down at you and smiles still staying in you, he leans his massive body over you and kisses you while pulling out. The emptiness makes you whine and he quickly goes to look at his handy work.

He holds your ankles out so you have to be stretched before him, your abused clit red and sensitive, your hole filled with his sperm leaking out. Quickly taking his thumb to the escaping mess he pushes it back into your hole causing you to shake with overstimulation.

“Mm, Such a pretty mess baby.”

Miguel gets up and heads to his door, he turns to look at your tired body glowing with sweat.

“I'm going to get you some water, when I get back you better prepare yourself, I'm not done punishing you.”

You close your thighs together, his words sending a shiver of anticipation back through you as you bite your lip watching him leave.

You will have to thank Hobie later for picking this dare.

Miguel laughs, “So you came here to steal my underwear for a dare?” You look over at him with a smirk admiring his nude body in such a relaxed state and giving that smile you have been so desperately dreaming for.

Eventually, you told him all about the dare game and how you ended up here. You're searching all over the floor for your underwear in the mess of bedding that found its way to the floor in a messy heap.

“Look I am not going to back down from a dare, now where are…”.

Miguel whistles and you look up at him as he's holding up your underwear; you reach to grab them from him but he pulls them back causing you to crash down on his bare chest. His other hand instantly curled around you to hold you to him. Once red eyes now dulling down to a brown as he just holds and smiles at you.

“Take mine, do what you need to do and I will keep these” He balls up your underwear and holds them in a fist behind his head.

You give him a suspicious look “Why do you want to hang on to them?”

Miguel chuckles and looks back at you “To make sure you'll come back”

Later you find Hobie, Quin, and Ben sitting down chatting, you march up to the table and throw the navy blue underwear down on the table. They all look at you stunned at the item of clothing in front of them. Your hair was disheveled, lips red and swollen from being kissed, and cheeks still painted with a bit of blush. Hobie raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down noting your appearance, then he smirks.

“And what took you so long?”

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