#and no way he acknowledges that as a Real Car. Dom wants a car he cant fucking pacrim drift with via the gearshift and does not acknowledge

[toytulini]

Okay, I will acknowledge The Brief Brian Minivan Moment.

I think my point stands tho that Dominic Toretto would be more accepting and respectful of the most freakish kinky weirdo queer person ever, as long as they can drive a stick shift. than he ever would be of someone who can only drive an automatic. He might teach them tho.

if you told vin diesel fast and the furious you were gay he'd be like "Some people like driving stick…some people like driving automatic…what matters is you cross the finish line.." and then he'd rev up a dodge challenger and drive through a building and kill 16 people

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Four

COLLARS / FIRST TIME / ANAL (@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction)

Starring: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: After not falling for anyone and approaching your late twenties, you become infatuated with your parents’ elusive neighbour, Dave York.

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: No use of Y/N, virgin reader, language, mentions of drinking/alcohol, adultery/affair, dom!Dave York, pet name, choking, oral (female receiving), fingering, P in V, unprotected sex (protection in real life, please, thank you), rough sex, praising, cream pie

Word Count: 4.3k

It had never bothered you that you were still a virgin, it was just the societal point of view that you should have lost it by the time you were in your teens. The fact didn’t really get under your skin until recently when you overheard an intern mention how his mum wanted him to lose his virginity when he next goes on holiday, he was only twenty.

And there you were, the other side of the room and in your late twenties, hearing other people laugh about the fact he hadn’t lost it, like he was unlucky, unlikeable or prude.

You tried the tedious task of dating to no avail, people around your age still seemed childish and cocky and, to be honest, not at all what you’d imagined. The idea that one day your prince would come had gone out the window years ago. No one was of interest to you, until you had to move back in with your parents.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t met Dave York before, he was their neighbour, but now, you saw him every time you left the fucking front door.

You reluctantly started your early morning runs for your mental health and as a way to avoid your mother. At first, you saw him fleetingly, one day he was putting out the trash, another week he was waving to his kids as they went to school.

Then it built to a few times a week, sometimes similar circumstances, but other times he was hopping into a blacked out car or talking to a group of four who he may or may not have worked with. The pair of you hadn’t exchanged any words, yet every time you ran away, you could feel eyes on you.

It was a particularly warm day and the sweat clung to your skin, the acknowledging sheen that you’d worked hard. The final stretch meant running past the York’s and in the distance, you could see the car and five silhouettes.

All eyes fell on you.

You carried on running yet a sharp whistle came over your music. Stopping, you pull out an earbud and glance over your shoulder.

“Hey, fancy a running partner?”

Your eyes flit from him to Dave, whose expression turned sour.

“Shut up, Kovac, you’re clearly not her type.”

The statement sent a shiver down your spine, what did he even know about what type of guy you were interested in?

“Ignore him,” he says bluntly, jutting his chin for you to be on your way.

Slipping your headphone back in, you carry on, shaking your head to get rid of the unfamiliar energy that came over you.

Back home, you couldn’t wash the sensation off you. It wasn’t from Kovac, he was like any other bloke, chasing whatever had a pulse.

It was Dave.

You couldn’t stop thinking about his stance, large hands perched lightly on his hips, or how his shoulders tightened when your eyes fell on him. It was how the muscles of his neck rippled as he restrained from shouting at Kovac for even having the balls to talk to you.

His eyes turned dark, drilling into the back of his acquaintance before honing in on you and that was the look that made your belly warm with desire.

After that small interaction, Dave opened up little by little. There were a number of waves as you bounced past, hellos when you weren’t exercising and finally, one day, he stopped talking to another neighbour to chat to you.

You felt honoured.

“You going to the Edmond’s barbecue next weekend?”

“Unfortunately.”

He chuckled, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Mum’s insisting.”

“Keeping up appearances?”

When he looks at you, it’s like he’s staring into your soul, as if he knows your problems without you opening your mouth.

“Something like that.”

“Me too.”

The comment was confusing, the Yorks were the perfect suburban family. White picket fences, two happy kids, a lovely wife, all that was missing was the dog. Your mouth parts but then you decide not to pry.

“I heard there’s a theme.”

He scoffs, “I’m not doing that.”

“Then I won’t either.”

You give him a coy smile as a smug expression draws across his face.

“See you next week.”

With that he turned away, striding back towards his home.

“Bye, Mr York,” you call after him.

“Call me Dave.”

He didn’t look at you when he spoke, it seemed more of a demand than an option. You release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

When the day of the barbecue arrived, you were already dreading it. Everyone was going to ask questions about why you had returned home, what were you going to do for work and when were you going to find yourself a boyfriend, unless you’re one of those girls who prefers girls or something along those lines.

Your only saving grace would be Dave.

“The theme’s Club Tropicana, that,” your mother points a finger up and down, “is not.”

“I’m not doing that ridiculous theme.”

“But honey.”

You give her the side-eye, “I can easily stay at home.”

You wouldn’t but the threat was enough for her to back down. If the theme was Viva Las Vegas like years ago, you’d be a perfect fit. The dress you wore decorated you in neon lights, hugged your figure and ensured every asset was ready to be showed off. You finished with kitten heel sandals you could actually walk in, well aware that Dave was a married man and that you shouldn’t be pursuing him the way you were about to but —

“Right, let’s go!”

You greeted the Edmond’s with the biggest smile you could muster, thrusting the huge bowl of homemade potato salad you cradled into Karen’s arms. After small talk, you made your excuses to find the man you came to see and maybe some alcohol to take the edge off.

You scoped out the area, a person dragging you into their conversation every now and again. With no luck, you couldn’t bear to stand waiting to be served at the makeshift bar and slipped away into the kitchen.

Your heels clicked on the tiles, the cooler interior more welcoming than the temperature outside. You continue to make sure you walked with a sway in your hips because if Dave was watching you, you wanted to make sure it’s worth it.

Thrusting open the double fridge, you pout as you look curiously within, nails tapping against the stainless steel.

“You know there’s a bar outside.”

You jump, peeking over your shoulder to see who’d caught you.

Dave approaches the kitchen island, slipping his phone seamlessly into his pocket. His eyes roam over the sight that’s in front of him, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand.

“Have you seen the line?”

You shut the fridge, closing the gap between you.

“They keep the good stuff in the pantry.”

“Do they now?”

You casually point a finger to another set of double doors that you assumed were just filled with food. He doesn’t respond, merely wanders to a different angle to watch you like a wild animal stalking their prey.

“Oh, fancy,” you exclaim as the doors lead to a hidden Narnia of booze and food from far away places.

Stepping in, you touch your fingertips lightly against the bottles, none of them appealing when you wanted something light and fruity. Tucked at the back you see a fridge with low blue lighting and knew you’d find exactly what you were looking for.

Dave was leaning on the edge of the door, keeping watch but you still had his full attention.

The sensible option would have been to crouch, instead you bend at the hip, pushing your ass out to him. You spent your time searching through the cold racks, pulling out every bottle and when you turn your head, he’s taking a sip of whatever he has.

“What are you drinking?”

“You wouldn’t like it,” he grunts back.

Yanking a bottle from the fridge, you spin on your heels.

“What makes you so sure?”

He hears your heels come closer, glancing up at you as you step down from the pantry.

“I wouldn’t like that, wouldn’t like Kovac, why?”

“You’re too sweet,” he steps away from you, “too innocent.”

Your grip around the bottle strengthens, your playful demeanour slipping.

A smirk came to his lips, it satisfied him greatly to know he’d touched a nerve. If you really wanted to play this game, he needed to have the upper hand, always. The man doesn’t flinched when you storm over to him, almost pressing your body close and no matter how angry you’re trying to look, he thought you looked simply adorable.

“And what if I don’t wanna be?”

There’s a beat before he leans forward, mouth coming to the shell of your ear.

“Don’t tempt me.”

His breath burnt the surface of your skin, his gaze falling to the vein in your neck as if he could sense your pulse quickening.

You don’t know how you found the words.

“You’re not already?”

The tip of his nose meets your hairline.

“My house, twenty minutes.”

Then he skulked away as if nothing happened yet you could still feel his presence, the goosebumps dancing over your shoulders, your back as that warmth falls into your belly again.

You made some sort of lame excuse that your mother believed, leaving the party to make a phone call to a friend who had an emergency. As you walked down the street, you glanced in every direction before diverting towards the Yorks wandering whether he would want you to go round the back.

There was a shake in your hand as you stretched it to the door handle and you took a breath before opening the door, squeezing yourself through the crack.

He stands in the hallway, his darkened eyes roaming your body as you sheepishly made your way towards him. Taking a step back, he opened your path to the stairs, waiting for you to ascend before following you.

Dave learned that he loved this view, it was nice to finally see it slowed down, to see how the rising steps accentuated aspects of your figure.

When you get to the top, you instinctively move to the right, peeking over your shoulder except he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t correct you as you continue down the hallway, quietly observing as you skim your fingertips over the first door then another.

“Last one on the left,” he says as the corridor nears an end.

You nod over your shoulder.

Time seemed to freeze momentarily when you stood in front of the door and he didn’t come any closer, leaving space in case you changed your mind.

You drop the handle and walk in.

The room appeared like every other, perfectly furnished with white walls and white sheets, small decorative florals here and there. It made something in the back of your mind niggle. You knew it was wrong, everywhere reminded you that Dave was a father, a husband, and that your first time probably shouldn’t be having an affair with a married man.

The fingers on your back made your muscles tense. 

Gliding his palm over your shoulder, he wraps a hand gently around the column of your throat, bringing his body closer.

“Having second thoughts?”

“Maybe,” your voice trembles.

“Want to know a secret?”

You swallow as he presses his mouth to your ear.

“I haven’t slept with my wife in over six months.”

His free hand comes to your hip before he slowly starts roaming the rest of your body.

“Found out she fucked one of the instructors from that ridiculous wellness studio and some guy in a bar, neither of them lasted long.”

Somehow the comment sounded sinister, as if he was the one that made sure of it.

“Of course, I was going to be a good boy until you showed up.”

His fingers were beginning to bury into your covered flesh as he brought you flush to his chest, his breath heavy.

“I’ve fucked my hand, thinking about shoving my cock down this pretty little throat of yours.”

You were struggling to concentrate on his words as the temperature rose, the hand around your neck presses further.

“And don’t get me started about this pussy.”

You cry, head falling back to his shoulder as he gropes you through your dress, one finger pushing hard against your clit. He fights against you, keeping you on your feet as electricity dances across your nerve endings.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

When you don’t respond, he applies more pressure.

“Please,” you choke. “Please, fuck me, Dave.”

He immediately lets go and steps back while you compose yourself. You turn on your heel, smoothing your clammy palms over your dress. You can’t see how blown your pupils have become, how your chest rises as you take shallow breaths.

But he can.

“Strip.”

You bend down and catch the hemline in your fingers. Slowly you straighten up, gradually lifting the delicate fabric over your head, tossing it to one side.

He takes every detail of you in, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he grows hungry.

“Should have left off the thong.”

You drop your head as you glance down, “Well, I’ve got to make you work for something.”

You don’t know what to expect as he approaches. His lips keep a subtle smile, a single finger drawing across your body, putting you into a false sense of security. You cover your mouth to stop the high pitched yelp when the heavy smack came to your ass.

He smirks.

“On your hands and knees,” he juts his chin to the bed.

Taking a deep breath, you do as your told. The mattress rocks gently under your weight, the sheets silky under your touch and you stop with your feet hanging over the bed, conscious of your heels.

Dave grabs the elastic waist and pulls roughly.

You lift your knees instinctively, feeling your thong come over your ankles before his hands return to you. He pushes the inside of your thighs, coaxing you to spread yourself wider, enough for arousal to glisten in the light.

He groans at the sight.

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest.

He loved how docile you were even if you didn’t realise. His hands shoved your ass cheeks apart, nails sinking into your flesh to reveal the one thing he failed to imagine. Your folds parted, already slick with arousal, your juices already clinging onto your neatly trimmed hair.

You take a baited breath when you hear how he moves, his exhale rolling a chill to your warm hollow.

The saliva builds on his tongue before he pushes it out and presses it flat against your weeping cunt. Your honeyed moan is music to his ears as he starts from your clit over your folds to the end. He uses the tip of his tongue to delve into your creases, trapping your outer lip into his mouth and sucking lightly.

“Oh my —“

Your words catch in your throat as he latches onto the other side.

It was the benefit of choosing someone like Dave to be your first, years of performing and practice to ensure your partner’s pleasure. Except that wasn’t it for him, after so long committing to the same routine, he had something new, only for him and he was going to devour it.

He teases your clit with his tongue before engulfing it, nuzzling deeper.

As you writhe, his arms lock around your waist and force you back. Your fingers curl into the sheets as the tip of his slopping nose nudges at your entrance. He breaths in your musk, moaning into that little bundle of nerves.

You whimper as the vibrations travel up and into your belly, fanning the flames.

He releases you from his mouth with a pop, bringing his attention back to your folds. He drags his tongue painstakingly over every inch until your pussy is twitching, desperate for him to come and taste.

You gift him a hoarse groan when he delves into your entrance.

“Fuck.”

Your arms give out, elbows dropping to the bed as he swirls his tongue around your walls.

His arms continue to hold you in place, his wide hands spreading over your back sending a tingle up your spine. He comes up for air, savouring the tang of your desire on his tastebuds, his cock stiffening against his pants.

After giving you the smallest rest bite, he plunges in again.

Mewling, you screw your eyes shut as his hums coarse through your body, your muscles quivering as the pleasure builds. He’s relentless, all tongue and teeth as if you’ve been served as his last meal.

You’re about to burst, every bit of you visibly shaking until everything stops in an instant.

Your chest heaves as you desperately try to get oxygen into your lungs, his hold on you loosening as he gets up. You have no idea what he was doing until you hear him unbuckling his belt, the sound of it dropping to the floor as he releases himself from his clothing.

You flinch as two fingertips graze your entrance.

Lifting yourself up, you press your palms down firmly, eyelashes fluttering as you open your eyes but you don’t look at him.

He smiles to himself, he didn’t even tell you what to do, your obedience was merely instinct.

Your back arches as his fingers break through the threshold, a whine as he sinks them as deep as you’ll allow. Your walls pulse around him before settling, holding his fingers snuggly in your heat. Then he starts to pump in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

“How long has it been…”

His words come over the rhythmic squelch from your pussy.

“Since someone touched you like this?”

His eyes narrow as he sees your muscles grow tense yet he keeps his hand moving. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Come on, baby, don’t get quiet on me now.”

When you don’t answer, he pushes hard into your back wall, drawing his fingers out slowly. The air rushes through your gritted teeth, shaking your head as you fold.

“No one’s ever touched me,” you whisper.

His fingers fall from your pussy and you hate that you’re now empty. After your confession, you assume he probably wouldn’t touch you again because who the hell would want an almost thirty year old —

“You’re a virgin?”

His query interrupted your train of thought.

You nod feebly.

Oh, this just keeps getting better, he thought.

Not only were you new, you were fresh out the fucking box and his cock harden more at the idea of being the first to destroy your cunt.

You were waiting for him to tell you to get out, to shamefully put on your clothes and do the walk of shame back across the road. Until his hands came to your hips and he traced your outline up to your shoulders. He pressed his chest into your back, his length brushing against your folds, your juices trickling around it.

He dropped his head, breathing you in as his nose tucked into your hair, his mouth settling by your ear. One of his hands moved back down, coiling between the both of you to take hold of his cock.

He teased his tip over your pussy and your lip trembles with whimper.

“I’m going to ruin you for every other man,” he growls, baring his teeth as he fills you to the hilt.

You scream, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

Dave holds you upright as your limps threaten to give, as your body begins to shake, a beautiful battle between pleasure and pain. You pant to get air back into your lungs, to slow down your surging heartbeat.

He stays strong as you squirm, repositioning your hips until he’s sitting within you quite comfortably. His other hand returns to your shoulder and his fingers flex before sinking into your soft flesh.

He took it slow, dragging his cock out of you before snapping his hips back in.

As you relax, each delicate squeak is replaced with grunts, sweet in comparison to the animalistic nature of his. He overwhelms you, the musk of his sweat as he hugs your frame, his breath trickling down your neck. Your head becomes fuzzy as the already sweltering temperature between you rises.

Your knees slip, parting your legs so he could push his cock a touch further.

“That’s it,” the words tumble from his lips. “Good girl.”

You sigh, walls fluttering at his praise, your arousal spilling.

The speed of his movements pick up, your slick allowing him to glide through with ease, the tip of his length hitting the spot. He listens to how you react, the hushed profanity you try to stop escaping your lips.

You close your eyes as each thrust coaxes you to the edge.

Time passes yet his pace is equally as relentless.

Your arms ache, elbows protesting and you fight to let them fall. His grip on your shoulders loosens, allowing you to collapse to the bed, forehead resting to the mattress. He draw a hand up your spine and the tingle spreads across your back.

There’s a brief moment of pause when he pulls his cock out and you don’t even have the energy to protest.

He brings a knee to the edge of the bed before hitching the other to your side. Grabbing your hips, he manipulates your body just how he wants it, raising your ass further into the air. You’re a fucking mess but he adores the view, grazing your folds with his radiating tip to watch your pussy react.

His next move isn’t a gentle as he plunged into you, a vicious slap as your bodies collided. Your scream is muffled by the plumpness of the bed, your muscles spasming.

He shushes you, a hand rubbing your lower back, “Just a little longer, ok baby?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bob of your head.

He lightly rolls his hips before going full pelt, his cock ploughing into you, notching the sweet spot again and again. He snarls through gritted teeth, nails clawing at the flesh along your hips and ass, your body bouncing through the sheer force of him.

And all you can do is take it.

You try to open your eyes yet your lids are heavy, fluttering as the sensation in your belly begins to stir.

He knows you’re approaching the edge, he starts to work against your walls as they close around his cock. His hand spreads over your stomach, moving down over your mound to hook under and press a finger to your clit.

Words fail you as your jaw slackens, nothing but moans of pleasure come from deep.

The vibrating starts as your toes curl and you cling to the sheets for dear life as your orgasm comes over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clamp around his length yet he still break through until your body grows limp beneath him.

Part of you wants to beg for him to stop but your mind protests with the blissful fog he has just given you, no thoughts, no worries just Dave. You want to say something however your loose tongue doesn’t aid you, your words nothing more than inaudible babble.

He smiles down at you proudly, brushing the hair from your face.

“Not much longer,” he says through staggered breaths. “I promise.”

You don’t have the strength to answer.

Continuing to float on air, you can’t fathom how long you stayed there and took him. It wasn’t until his hips locked and his hold on your plumpness deepened that you were aware he was coming. He snarled as his load coated your walls, collapsing on top of you as he thrusted lightly to milk himself dry.

Your bodies meld as he catches his breath.

His hand soothes your side, the brown coming back into his eyes when he checks your face, his stern demeanour breaking for that brief moment.

In an instant, it changes as he prise himself away from you.

You feel empty as his cock slips from your wrecked cunt, a dribble of hot, creamy seed dropping onto your inner thigh.

“We should head back.”

Stretching your limbs out, you perch at the end of the bed as he hands over your thong.

“I should go and make myself look presentable.”

Dave would actually enjoy watching you enter the Edmond’s place looking like a hot mess but when he arrived not long after, people would talk. People already talk about him and Carol, he doesn’t want you involved in it too.

“Keep me inside you,” he orders, buttoning his shirt.

You hum in response, the act of putting on your clothes garnering more attention.

When your face emerges from behind your dress, the pair of you are toe to toe and his hand is coiling to the back of your neck. His fingers entwine into the bottom of your hairline, pulling your head back so your eyes meet.

“Good girls use their words.”

“Yes, Mr York.”

You don’t know why you say it like you do, timid and desperate.

Even though you used the formality, he seems satisfied, releasing you from his clasp. He leans forward, the tip of his nose featherlight on your cheek and you freeze expecting him to kiss you, if he does, you don’t feel it.

“You better go.”

You blink, “Yep, going.”

Pushing past him, you make it to the door and glance over to him, standing as he always does. You flash a quick smile before strutting down the hallway and he comes to the doorway, watching you as he always does.

[agustdiv1ne]

pose (m) — cyj

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: model!yeonjun (which isn't really an au bc he's real,,,,, model yeonjun is real), assistant!reader, fluff, smut, angst

wc: 12.5k

synopsis: being world-famous model choi yeonjun's personal assistant wasn't easy. after six months on the job, however, you'd say that you had a pretty decent grasp on it. now, with fashion month right around the corner, it was your duty to make sure everything was in order, but of course a few things didn't go as planned.

warnings: 18+, swearing, sizeable timeskips, allusions to a panic attack, model!beomgyu appears and he is an ass to put it lightly, explicit sex, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, fingering, mirror sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, i beg of you), pull-out method, jealous + possessive yeonjun

disclaimer: i am not 100% educated about how modelling and the fashion industry operates. if there are any discrepancies, please forgive me! i'm only trying to appreciate model yeonjun, man.

note: no i am still not over model yeonjun don't touch me

♤ playlist ♤

masterlist

choi yeonjun.

a twenty-one year-old fashion superstar, one of the most sought-after models in the industry, the ceo of his own modelling agency, young, suave, intimidating; choi yeonjun was a lot of things, you had learned in your time working for him. in your eyes, his most admirable trait was that he was no-bullshit. you couldn't sugarcoat anything with him, and you appreciated not being forced to tiptoe around the truth in order to save his feelings. he didn't seem to even have feelings, really. you don't think you'd seen him smile fully more than twice.

and as fashion month, one of the most important months in his — well, in any model's — career, raced closer, you knew that wrenching a smile from the man was akin to mission impossible. at least your job was to book him for events and to make sure he remained on-schedule, not to find ways to make him grin. you were an assistant, not a damn clown (though some of your friends would say otherwise).

but back to your job, the current reason why he presently invaded your thoughts. 

you knocked on the door to his office, hearing a muffled 'come in' from inside. you pushed it open with a planner tucked under your arm and your cell phone in your hand. he acknowledged you with a wave of his hand, not bothering to look up from the files on his desk. you were used to this type of greeting, though it used to bother you. you had learned not to take it personally. 

despite the very nice view sitting only a few feet in front of you, the skyline behind him never failed to awe you. ceiling to floor windows allowed for a breathtaking view of the city of seoul. multiple stories down, cars shuffled along in the traffic that never seemed to end no matter the time of day. crowds of people sauntered by like ants, businessmen in a hurry scattered between groups of tourists and locals alike. the sun sat at the peak of the sky, its rays streaming through the tall windows into the spacious office. for a chilly winter's day, it was sure sunny. 

it felt like you were on top of the world when you were in here. the space was certainly fitting for your boss, given his immense success. you could only dream of having this for yourself.

“good afternoon, mr. choi,” you greeted as you sat down. now with half a year under your belt, sitting in the chair across from him had your mind trailing back to the first time you ever met him, when he had given you the position you currently work in. you could remember your trembling form in this very seat, your heart stuck in your throat, like it was yesterday.

“i don’t deal well with incompetence. my last assistant failed at a vital time in my career. i cannot allow that to happen again,” he explained, his scrutinizing gaze burning your skin nearly enough to make you cry. you knew what week he was talking about, everyone knew, but you refused to waver; you wanted this job. no, needed this job. this opportunity was your only chance to work behind the scenes at the international level, to break the glass ceiling that allowed you to watch but never get a taste of the industry, not to mention the promised salary thar piqued your interest. you couldn’t fail, not when you’ve gotten this far. you straightened your spine further, locking your eyes with his.

“i can guarantee you that i will not fail, mr. choi,” you replied with all of the confidence that you could possibly muster, meeting his glare with a determined expression. you wouldn’t dare back down, not when working in this damn industry was your dream. though you were young, your résumé spoke for itself, and so far you had not faltered once during this interview. you prayed that that was enough to prove yourself to him. from whispered rumors, you had heard that his standards were sky high.

too focused on acing this interview, you didn't notice the tick in his jaw at the sound of that title coming from your pretty, rose-tinted lips, nor did you notice how your fingers subconsciously dug into the skin of your thighs as his ebony eyes pierced yours. oh, but he did, he knew all too well the effect he had on you. the way you gulped whenever his voice lowered slightly, chewed at your lip whenever he leaned towards you, played with your fingers whenever he swept his hair back with his hand; it was all that much obvious that you were attracted to him, you didn't even need to verbalize it. 

that factor didn't bother him like it did with his other applicants, oddly enough. he should have questioned whether your professionalism would be at stake because of it, should have questioned if you'd slip up, but he could see that you were here to work and work your ass off only. you weren't here to flirt with him, nor were you here to fuck around. you had a hunger for success in your eyes, and that was exactly what he needed in his assistant.

he gave a silent nod at your answer, causing your stomach to do somersaults. the response seemed noncommittal in your mind, and a noncommittal response usually meant a lack of interest, and a lack of interest meant you wouldn't get the job, and-

his eyes left yours, and you secretly thanked your lucky stars. you weren't sure how long you could stay strong with him basically glaring at you. your racing thoughts didn't slow.

a few minutes of silence passed, though it felt like decades, as he shuffled through your résumé again, occasionally glancing up at your rigid form. you quietly inhaled a shuddering breath, nerves consuming more and more of your being the longer he stayed silent. it felt like a thousand pound weight was crushing your chest.

perhaps you hadn't done as well as you thought.

he abruptly closed your résumé, lifting his head to face you once more. his eyes trailed up your form, the tips of your ears heating up at the brazen action, before he stood. you could only muster an anxious stare, all you could do was anticipate a harsh rejection and cruel words. what came next was nothing of the sort.

the corners of his lips raised by a millimeter in what you could call a smile, causing a shock to zip through your body. he leaned forward as he spoke, his hands resting on the edge of his desk.

“your clothing choices are going to have to change drastically if you are going to work for me, but we can work on that…”

he extended a hand toward you, a single perfect eyebrow raising in silent challenge.

“congratulations, miss y/ln, you’ve got the job.”

luckily for you, it was natural to sit here now; you had done it enough at this point that it was essentially second nature. being a nervous wreck was no longer an option, and you knew it. that was like a one-way ticket to being fired.

“on time as always,” he quipped monotonously, closing the portfolio in front of him and moving it to the stack sitting to his right. scouting new models — new talent, as he liked to say — never ended. 

as he organized said pile, you took the time to fully take in his appearance. his jet-black hair was styled up in its usual fashion, slightly mussed from running his hands through it, you assumed. all you could see of his outfit was a tight, white mock neck sweater along with a thin silver chain circling the base of his throat. you could only imagine what the rest of his outfit looked like, your mind wandering off to picture his lithe, muscular body in tight black trousers that hugged his thighs with a form-fitting shirt like the one he currently wore-

professionalism. professionalism is good, you thought, nearly smacking your forehead out of habit. you refrained at the last second so as to not be questioned by your boss for your odd behavior, opting to mentally berate yourself for even having those thoughts in the first place. he was your boss for christ's sake, not some random man you could ogle on the down low. especially not when he sat a mere three feet away from you.

“i assume you know what i wanted to speak with you about.” the sound of his voice knocked you from your thoughts, and you had to stop yourself from flinching. sometimes, you truly did hate your brain. 

“yes, sir,” you swiftly replied as you flipped open your planner, neon pink sticky notes stuck on with scribbled reminders and questions that you needed clarification on. you might have been overdoing it, but you’d rather that than not do enough. he leaned forward, like he always did when he spoke with you, yet there was a degree of intensity in his gaze that you had never seen before. you licked your lips before you continued, your heart pumping a little faster, “you will be leaving for new york in three days. i’ve arranged for your private jet to be ready at six a.m., and i will be taking a separate flight with the rest of the accompanying staff as per usual-”

“no, you won’t be,” he interrupted, and you tried your best to mask your shocked expression. “you’ll be taking my private jet as well. after the shitshow that was the spring-summer shows that happened before you were hired, i can’t have you be off on your own, no matter how much you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy.” his stone cold expression and short reply gave away little information, though you could catch a glint of frustration in his eyes. the small downward quirk of his eyebrows confirmed it for you; you still weren’t sure what exactly had gone on during that last fashion month, and, to be quite frank, you didn’t think you ever wanted to know.

“understood, sir.” you nodded, clicking your pen and noting to cancel your flights to and from each city. at the same time, your chest swelled a tiny bit at the somewhat-praise. such words from him were a rare occurrence, so you’d take what you could get. and who were you to reject the chance to take a private jet around the world? 

you raised your head as you finished writing, your hands now curled in your lap while you subconsciously twirled the pen around in your fingers. “mr. kang will be taking over your duties here for the month just as you requested. the first show you will be walking is telfar, from what i understand you’ve had your eyes on for a while…”

as you examined every minute detail of the next month's schedule with him, you knew that this fashion month would be a million times more successful than the previous one he continued to mention.

or, well, at least you hoped so.

“so i heard that he’s making you go in his jet, hm?”

your head whipped around to the source of the familiar voice, finding one of your co-workers and good friends, sihyun, with a wry smile pulling at her lips. given that she was one of yeonjun's makeup artists, you were nearly attached at the hip. you traveled everywhere together for his schedules, after all.

you rolled your eyes as you swiveled your chair to fully face her, “don’t say it like that. it’s purely for business purposes. don’t act like it isn’t, you weirdo.”

she sauntered over to the side of your desk and leaned her palms against the surface, her grin growing wider as she teased you. “you have to admit it’s a little sudden, though, no matter how important this whole thing is.” she brought the back of her hand up to her forehead as she dramatically sighed, “what ever will i do without my travel buddy? i’m going to be stuck in business class all alone.”

“cry me a river,” you deadpanned, turning back to face your laptop where an article with things to do in new york sat open. you left in two days now, and you knew that you would need something to do when you weren’t running around to yeonjun’s shows. “you’ll be just fine without me.” 

“rude! and no, i won’t be,” she pouted, but her expression cracked a mere second later. her teasing grin returned. “what if you’re the main character in, like, a hallmark movie? i can see it now: cold ceo and his assistant fall in love as they spend time together on a business trip,” she exclaimed with sparkles in her eyes, hands haphazardly waving about. you pretended to gag in response.

“this isn’t some hallmark movie, this is reality,” you playfully sneered, no real aggression in your tone. it was difficult to be genuinely annoyed with her, despite her being a little younger and miles more energetic than you. makeup artists needed that level of spunk, that creative drive, while someone in your position did not. you swore it was a miracle that you two got along so well. the opposites attract trope that you had read so much about in your teen years could be applied to friendships too, you guessed.

she pursed her lips, her chocolate-colored eyes narrowing, “but-”

“you need to get out of your head, it’s dangerous in there.”

“i’ll have you know that my head is fine, thank you very mu-” she started before her eyes focused on something behind you, her perfectly-shaped brows raising. “oh, hello mr. choi! i was just leaving.”

your shoulders tensed as sihyun scurried off, your boss' footsteps growing louder behind you. you could feel his presence looming above you as his hands came to rest on the back of your chair. you hadn't realized how close he was until he spoke.

“top ten things you should do when visiting new york city?”

you flinched at the proximity of his voice as he read off the title of the article you had been reading, his warm breath brushing against your ear. you nodded stiffly all the while heat rushed to your face and down your neck. you prayed that he couldn’t feel it radiating off of you. “u-um yes, sir.”

he hummed, reaching over your shoulder to place his hand on your mouse. his face was mere centimeters from the side of your own now, but he didn't seem to notice your internal predicament as he scrolled through the article. the dark umber hue of his irises reflected the white of the screen as his eyes shot back and forth across the page. his plump lips were parted, and his brows furrowed in what didn't seem to be anger, but curiosity. not that you were staring at him through your peripherals. you? staring at him? no way!

(yes way.)

he straightened his spine, his face no longer dangerously near your own, and you finally felt like you could breathe again. he cleared his throat before he finally replied. “perhaps we’ll be able to find a little free time to do some of these activities.”

maybe you spoke too soon, because the oxygen in your lungs suddenly felt as heavy as lead. before you could find your words, however, he had walked away. you could hear the door to his office click shut a short ways down the hall. 

“what the hell does he mean by ‘we’?” you mumbled before you buried your head in your hands. you groaned quietly, willing your weak heart to stop racing. he couldn’t have meant just you and him, couldn’t he?

“lord, please give me strength.”

early mornings at incheon international airport were nothing new to you. this time, however, you stood on the tarmac rather than in the terminal.

the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, bathing everything in sight in a soft apricot hue. you'd usually be watching the sunrise through a window while sitting in one of those stiff airport chairs, a painfully overpriced cup of coffee in your hand and sihyun by your side. no matter how much you complained about the scam that was airport prices, you missed your coffee. oh, and you missed sihyun, too, even though the last time you saw her was just over an hour ago.

the dark sedan you currently sat in slowed to a stop near the airport's entrance, the door automatically unlocking in order to let sihyun to get out. she spun around abruptly, the soles of her sneakers audibly scraping against the pavement.

“good luck, and let me know if anything happens with him!” she whispered as she raised her eyebrows, grabbing her suitcase before turning around and sauntering over to the terminal doors. she turned around once more with a cheesy grin on her face, loudly calling “i want to see my hallmark movie come true!” before disappearing into the airport. you sighed, slamming the car door shut before the car started moving once more.

on second thought, you didn’t miss sihyun. 

you shivered as the chilly late-winter air nipped at your cheeks. your puffy jacket and gloves thankfully shielded you from most of the cold, yet your teeth continued to chatter involuntarily. your bags stuffed full of clothes and toiletries stood by your sides as your eyelids drooped. no matter how often you found yourself in this situation, the three a.m. wake-up never failed to get to you.

god, you really needed some coffee right about now. 

you finally glanced over at the man standing a few feet away from you, comfortable yet luxurious clothes adorning his body. you still weren't sure exactly how you felt about having to fly with your boss only a few feet away for fourteen hours. yes, fourteen damn hours in the presence of yeonjun. you released a quiet sigh as another airplane sped off into the air, another one landing, watching as yeonjun’s personal pilot maneuvered his jet over to where you stood waiting. 

yeonjun turned to face you. slight dark circles might have found their home underneath his eyes, but you were sure he looked far better than you right now. he spoke over the rumble of the jet’s engine, “don’t worry about your bags, the ground staff will take care of them for you.” he eyed your exhausted form with slight concern. “and there’s coffee on board if you need it. follow me.”

so you did look like shit, then. how wonderful. 

you replied with a lethargic ‘thank you’, following him up the small set of stairs that led into the cabin. he made his way to a seat close to where you stood while you remained still at the top of the stairs, playing with your fingers awkwardly. you had no idea exactly what you should do — sit in the farthest seat? sit somewhat near him? in the seat next to him, no, hell no, not next him, that would be weird.

he regarded your nervous form carefully, “sit wherever you’d like. it’s a long flight, so get comfortable.”

you nodded before carefully making your way over to a seat that lay diagonally behind him. the coolness of the leather seat soaked through the seat of your pants, until you noticed a set of buttons along the armrest. a recliner, heated seats, a built-in charging port...this degree of luxury was new, awkward, even. you tried to ignore the discomfort running through your veins, pulling out your phone only for it to automatically connect to the on-board wi-fi. 

you nearly groaned. while you were used to the standard business class commodities already, this brought a whole new meaning to ‘traveling with style.’

you tried to busy yourself the best that you could: playing games on your phone, staring out the window, trying to figure out the best heat setting for your seat, but those options didn't take up a long period of time, maybe an hour. and now you were back at square one, thinking about how awkward it was to sit in the close vicinity of your boss — in complete and utter silence — for fourteen straight hours. 

a few minutes of spacing out later, it seemed your nerves had receded enough for exhaustion to creep back into your brain, your head narrowly missing slamming into the wall next you as you knocked out for a split second. your head shot up, making sure you hadn't made some loud noise that caught the attention of the man nearby, before relaxing when it looked like yeonjun hadn't noticed anything. 

screw the coffee that you had been thinking about all morning, you needed some sleep. at least you knew that could take up a good chunk of this flight. 

you reclined your seat before pulling the cover over the window above your head to block the blinding sunlight streaming in. allowing your eyelids to flutter to a close, you succumbed to the enticing prospect of sleep, the sound of the jet's engine fading away into a dull rumble.

•

“this is your pilot speaking. it seems like we’ll be experiencing some strong winds soon as we will be passing through a storm. please remain seated as we expect some turbulence.”

you mind barely registered those words before you pried your eyes open. the plane rattled slightly as you sat your seat back up in its normal position. you didn't even notice your leg beginning to shake.

you had never done well with rough landings or heavy turbulence. no matter how much your parents tried to shake you from it when you were younger, their attempts hadn't soothed your nerves one bit. you kept the irrational fear to yourself for the most part, you were much too embarrassed to share that freely. currently, the only people who knew were your parents and sihyun.

in past flights, sihyun usually kept you distracted and calmed you down when she noticed your anxiety, helping you through breathing exercises and the like, but without her here, you were now doomed to endure it alone. you sure as hell didn't count yeonjun as a potential candidate to help you, and there was no way for you to call sihyun when both of you were thousands of feet above the ground, either. all in all, you were absolutely, positively screwed. 

you could feel your heartbeat quicken as the plane jolted upwards. your fingers gripped at the armrests at your sides, sinking into the soft leather in a poor attempt to ground yourself. you squeezed your eyes tightly shut as the momentum of the plane jerked your body to the right. you tried sihyun's method to calm you down. deep breath in. one, two, three, four, five. hold for five, and exhale for one, two, three, four, five. you repeated that a few more times, but you could only distract yourself for so long, a strong gust of wind — which made the previous bouts of wind seem like puny breezes — causing another surge of anxiety to shoot straight down your spine. 

this was a fucking death trap.

deep breaths weren't an option now, the air in your lungs as heavy as lead and your throat concerningly dry. tears stung your eyes. blinking them away proved to be no use. a small whimper escaped your throat as your stomach dropped along with the plane.

you hadn't realized that someone now occupied the seat next to you until you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. despite your blurry vision, you locked eyes with yeonjun, who now sat in the seat next to you, a worried frown marring his face. 

his soft, deep voice calling your name somewhat shook you from your panicked headspace, your vision clearing a little when he turned you by your shoulders to face him, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. if this was any other time, you probably would have been reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess. right now, though, your brain had your thoughts racing fast enough for you to not register the lack of distance.

“breathe with me,” he coaxed, keeping his eyes locked with yours. his hand covered your own on his chest, the other resting on your shoulder to help ground you.

your first few breaths remained shallow, frustration mixing into your swirl of emotions with every failed inhale. he remained patient, trying his best to ignore the tears streaming down your cheeks as he encouraged you to try again until you could. it took what felt like hours before you were able to breathe normally again, the steady stream of tears steadily coming to a halt. by the time you had finally calmed down, it seemed like the turbulence had followed suit. the plane no longer jerked around, and the sky was clear now. the plane had made it through the storm.

as soon as you registered the warmth of his chest under your palm, you snatched your hand away, apologies streaming out of your mouth despite mental exhaustion creeping into your system. “i’m so sorry about that, mr. choi, i-”

“don’t apologize,” he interrupted in a quiet voice, his demeanor seemingly off, yet you decided to ignore it. he probably felt uncomfortable having to help you like this. “if you feel anxious at any other time during the rest of this flight, please call me over, alright? i don’t want you to have to suffer through this again.”

you nodded before adding on a small, "thank you, sir." 

his lips twitched upward, but the miniscule smile disappeared in a blink of an eye. he gave your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading back to his own seat. 

your heart raced for an entirely different reason now.

this had to be the worst way to start this entire month off. a breakdown right in front of your boss, in his own private jet. great. fucking awesome. you felt like screaming. instead, to save face, your hand came up to run through your tangled hair, and you winced as your fingers pulled at the knots. he wouldn't fire you, you repeated to yourself. he wouldn't fire you for something like this. he might have been stern, but he was fair. you'd be fine, right?

while you attempted to shut your brain up, unbeknownst to you, yeonjun's own thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.

he had never seen you like this. his usually calm, cool, collected assistant had right in front of his eyes, tears welling in your eyes and your breathing ragged. you had calmed down since the first moments he had sat beside you, and you seemed to be feeling much better, but something about this whole interaction bothered him. in a way, it had shaken him — definitely not to as severe a degree as you were a few minutes ago, but still. you always acted so confident and assured in front of him, yet this…this completely shifted his perspective. it made him realize he didn't truly know you, didn't know anything about you at all, really.

and for some reason unknown to him, that fact left a bitter taste in his mouth.

beep! beep! beep!

you groaned loudly, swinging your arm over to slam into the offending alarm clock. the piercing beeping stopped. reluctantly, you opened your eyes, only to be met with the bright red numbers glaring back at you in the dark room.

four fucking a.m. 

despite being fifty floors above the street, the dull white noise of the city's neverending traffic reached your room. the city truly lived up to its name, but the noise had to have been worse in time's square. you thanked god that you booked a hotel away from that crowded tourist trap. 

you crawled out of the plush bed, courtesy of the luxurious hotel you currently sat in. you were sure yeonjun was up, too, right next door.

yes, his room was right next to yours. yay.

you wished that you could just go back to sleep. this was not what you wanted to be doing right now, but you knew that you couldn't. your job was on the line this month, you had to prove that you weren't like his past assistant. you had shown him that you were much more organized, more punctual, more honest than his previous assistant in the past six months, but that was no safeguard to keep your job. there was no way you could be the reason he was late to or missed any schedules this month without being fired.

and so you dug through your suitcase for your outfit of the day before dragging your feet to the bathroom. you needed to be ready in an hour.

nothing a scalding hot shower couldn't fix.

•

“are you ready for today?” were the first words out of sihyun’s mouth when she met you in the lobby. her hands visibly shook at her sides.

“how many cups of coffee did you have?” you fired back.

“not many!” she cringed, “maybe...five?”

you shook your head.

•

seventeen hours of sprinting around the city later, you decided that no, you were not ready for today. and no, a hot shower couldn't fix everything. 

“everything hurts,” you groaned, wincing as the sedan bounced into a pothole. you rubbed at your temples, trying to soothe the migraine that you had been nursing for more than half of the day.

sihyun sent you a sympathetic glance, “i get it, but you better get used to being tired. this is how every day is gonna go. we even ended earlier than usual today.”

sadly for you, sihyun's warning proved to be true. on paper, yeonjun's schedule already looked packed, but nothing could have prepared you for the constant running around the city. as if sihyun's word wasn't enough, yeonjun wasn't joking when he told you that this month would be busy, either. 

you guessed that you'd have to come back another to do the tourist-y things that you were looking at in the office back home.

countless fittings, shows, interviews, and photoshoots filled your days, leaving you with little time to enjoy what the bustling city could offer. most days ended near one in the morning, with a final fitting or photoshoot or even a fashion show. when one brand's show dragged on until 3 a.m. — on your third straight day running on less than three hours of sleep — you felt the urge to rip your hair out. 

the fourth day passed nearly the same way, the only difference being that you arrived back at the hotel a little earlier than usual, around midnight. you went straight up to your hotel room, not bothering with food despite the aching pain in your gut telling you to eat. you gave yeonjun a quick goodbye before the door clicked shut.

before you could effectively faceplant into the bed, you felt a buzz in your back pocket.

“god, what now?” you grumbled while fumbling with your phone. tapping on the screen revealed a text from sihyun.

from sihyun: do u wanna go get some mcdonald’s with me? i’m sure ur starving

your stomach growled. impeccable timing.

to sihyun: hell yes. i’m gonna ask the boss if he wants any too, i’m sure he’s as hungry as we are

she responded with an okay and a suggestive emoji, adding that she'd meet you in the lobby in five minutes. your eyes rolled in response before grabbing your bag, making the short walk to yeonjun's room. a couple of short knocks later and he opened the door, his form now clad in a plain white t-shirt and some sweatpants. his eyelids were half-closed in pure exhaustion, voice gravelly as he asked you what you needed. you tried to ignore how attractive he looked. and sounded.

you bit your cheek before responding, “sihyun and i were going to grab some food. i was wondering if you would like some too?” 

he raised an eyebrow, “let me guess, mcdonald’s?”  

you hummed sheepishly in affirmation, and a ghost of a smirk pulled at his lips. 

“i’d love some. but order a lot, please, i’m starving.”

you nodded, letting him know that you'd knock when you got back, then turning to walk to the elevator. you saw sihyun standing near the entrance when you reached the ground floor.

“took you long enough,” she teased, but even her expression seemed fatigued beyond belief. you shoved at her shoulder as both of you walked out of the skyscraper onto the sidewalk outside. “did he want some?”

“yeah, he said to buy a lot.”

“luckily for him, i was already planning to,” she chuckled. the streets were still crowded enough for you not to worry about walking down the block to the closest mcdonald’s. “we haven’t eaten since what? this morning?”

“sadly.” boy, you certainly had a way with words when you were tired.

the golden arches glowed like heaven's gates on the corner the next block down. the thought of hot fries had you thanking the universe for the twenty-four hour fast food chain. you almost felt like crying at the promise of food. not great food, but food nonetheless.

walking up to the counter, sihyun glanced up at the menu before grinning at the cashier. “hi, yeah, can i get fifteen cheeseburgers, six fries, and three drinks?”

the poor cashier looked like he wanted to slam his head into the counter, but hey, after the day you all just had, you needed all of that.

•

“i’ll see you tomorrow, gotta deliver this.” you raised the brown bag in your hand as the elevator stopped on a lower floor. sihyun’s floor.

though her eyes could barely stay open, she smirked as she stepped out of the elevator backwards, singing, “have fun with mr. ceo.”

you stuck your tongue out at her before the door could shut. 

“good night, hyun.”

“g’night.”

the elevator started up again.

sihyun was just joking. she had to be. she didn't really think that yeonjun could ever have feelings for you...and that you would ever act upon your feelings...right? 

the ding of the door sliding open made you jump. time to face the root of your unprofessional thoughts.

you knocked on his door. the lock clicked open within seconds, as if he was waiting for you. you couldn’t blame him. you extended the bag towards him with a small smile, “here you are, sir. i’ll be next door if you need anything else.”

he caught your arm before you could saunter off, “wait, would you like to eat with me?”

“i wouldn’t want to intrude, i’m sure you’re tired-”

“i don’t mind.”

“okay,” you conceded, stepping into his room once he opened the door wider.  

the room dwarfed your own by a long shot, but you figured that he was used to these types of commodities. and you thought your own room was too big.

he guided you over to the large couch nestled in the back corner of the room, overlooking the bustling cityscape. you sat on the end away from him as you unwrapped on of the burgers. the crinkling of paper drowned out the noise from below.

you two initially ate in silence, the atmosphere awkward and suffocating. you didn't know why he even invited you in if he wasn't going to make conversation. 

“what drove you to become a model?” you asked out of the blue. he provided no answer, so you glanced over only to find a shocked expression painting his face. 

you backtracked, “sorry, forget i said anyth-”

“no, no, you’re fine,” he interrupted. “it’s just, no one’s ever really asked me that.”

“not even interviews?”

“not even in interviews,” he agreed.

“well, then why?” you shifted so you were facing him, your eyes catching his. he maneuvered to face you too while stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth. you never realized how much he could eat until now.

“i’ve always been interested in fashion. how garments are made, how you can combine different pieces to create a certain feel in a look, all of that inspired me. it still does. once i got casted it was like a dream come true, but i hated that company with a passion.”

“is that why you started your own?” you stared outside, taking another bite of your burger. he looked over at you. this was the most talkative you’ve ever been around him. 

he liked it. 

“for the most part. i didn’t want someone controlling my every move. everyone there was so scared i’d tarnish my image somehow, telling me i couldn’t do this and i shouldn’t do that. plus, staying there wouldn’t let me start my own brand one day.”

“that’s the goal, huh?” you glanced over at him.

he nodded, and you two fell back into silence again. it didn't last long.

he unwrapped another burger. “can i ask you a question?”

“you just did,” you mindlessly replied, eyes going wide when you processed what you just said to him. your face felt hot as you made eye contact with him. “oh, u-uh, sorry, i-”

“no worries, it’s interesting to hear you without a filter,” he replied smoothly, ignoring your visible embarrassment. a shock jolted you when you saw a small, genuine smile on his face. not a smirk, nor a split-second twitch of his lips, but a smile.

“u-uh good to know,” you quitely stuttered. “go ahead.”

“what made you want to work for me?”

“i’ve always been a planner, and i’ve always enjoyed fashion. i thought working for you would give me both of those things,” you replied simply.

“nothing else?”

“well, the salary certainly caught my eye-” you slapped a hand over your mouth. “i really need to stop talking, don’t i?”

a short chuckle escaped him, “at least you’re honest.”

this yeonjun seemed so much relaxed, casual, a far cry from the emotionless robot you had pinned him to be. munching on burgers and fries and slurping at his drink, he looked like a normal twenty-something year-old in this environment. well, except for the whole luxury hotel room in the middle of a big city thing.

the silence filling the room comforted you now, the last of the burgers and fries being inhaled by you and yeonjun. he watched as you nearly tipped over off of the couch, waking up just in time to catch yourself. he muffled a laugh behind the last bite of his burger.

“it’s pretty late, we should probably get to sleep,” he suggested in that same low voice from earlier. a brief shiver traveled down your spine.

“you’re right,” you said as you stood up, stretching your limbs in a graceless manner. that movement revealed a strip of your bare stomach below your shirt, and he looked away. he nearly slapped himself. what was he, a teenage boy?

“goodnight, yeonjun,” you called softly as you walked to his door, not noticing your own slip up with his name. you shot him a smile as he got up from his own seat. “thank you for tonight. it was nice talking with you.” you turned to open the door.

“goodnight. and y/n?” you spun around to face him again, a large grin on his face. he liked hearing you call him by his first name. “thank you, too.”

you were wrong, choi yeonjun was far from the hardass that you first pegged him as. 

one last photoshoot late the morning after, and you were on your way back to the airport.

“i’ll see you when we land in london!” sihyun exclaimed after she had hugged you tight enough to expel almost all of the air from your lungs. she whispered the next part, as yeonjun sat only a couple feet in front of you two, “remember, i’m still waiting for my hallmark movie wish to come true! especially after what you told me today.”

“come back to reality, hyun,” you whispered back, flicking her forehead in an affectionate manner. she climbed out of the dark van, her nose scrunched up, with the few other staff members present. soon enough, they entered the ever-crowded airport, and you and yeonjun were being shuttled off to wherever his jet currently sat waiting.

running a hand through his hair, yeonjun resisted the urge to ask you what exactly sihyun had meant.

you had to say, london's schedule was at least a little less busy than new york. you actually found time to eat normal meals now, and the flight wasn't too bad, either.

more time also meant more time for sightseeing. 

you and sihyun tripped around in your free time, going from schedule, to big ben, to another schedule, to the tower of london, and so on. before you arrived, you assumed london would be severely boring, but you were proven to be very wrong, the days passing like lightning until you found yourself on day five in this city.

“maybe buckingham palace today?” you turned to sihyun in the hotel lobby, yet you were met with a sheepish grin, like a child who had done something wrong. you questioned her with your eyes.

“i might be, well, meeting up with an old friend? she moved here a couple years ago, and she reached out to me last night when she heard i was in town...” you pursed your lips when a mischievous smile formed on her lips.

“you know what? you should invite yeonjun to come along,” she sang, but you immediately shook your head.

“are you crazy?”

“no, just a romantic,” she teased.

“a hopeless one.”

“hey!”

you cackled until you saw yeonjun approaching out of the corner of your eye. both you and sihyun turned to greet him.

“hello, mr. choi!” sihyun called. “y/n was wondering if you would like to go sightseeing with her today. i would go with her, but i’m meeting with a friend after our schedule is over for the day.” you shot her a murderous glare, asking her with your eyes why in the hell she would do this to you. 

despite his blank face, you found curiosity in his gaze, eyes shifting to you, “sightseeing, hm? does our schedule end early today?”

your glare melted as his eyes met yours. “around five p.m. today, sir,” you replied automatically. you knew this damn schedule like the back of your hand at this point.

“i will, then.”

“perfect!” sihyun butted in, “let’s start the day.” you sent her another glare once yeonjun walked past you both.

“you’ll thank me later,” she mouthed, shooting a quick wink your way. you suppressed a groan.

•

the dark sedan pulled onto a side street, yeonjun slipping out of the front seat to open the door for you. you gave him a soft 'thank you' in return.

gray clouds covered the sky above as you walked towards the gargantuan estate, guards with their ridiculous hats and tomato red tunics catching your eye from afar. 

“i knew it was huge, but seeing it in person is completely different,” yeonjun observed. “those guards look ridiculous, though.”

“i agree,” you said, “i’ve always wanted to take a picture with one, just to say i’ve done it. it’s probably illegal, though.”

“confessing to your employer that you want to commit a crime isn’t very professional, you know,” he teased in a monotone voice, causing heat to travel up your neck to your face. 

you scrambled to save yourself, “i didn’t mean it that way!”

“i know,” he chuckled. he acted more relaxed when he was away from the business side of things. you were glad that you were able see this side of him, without all of the hardass tendencies that came with running your own company. you had the feeling he couldn’t find the time to relax all that often.

“let’s take a picture with them. far away to be legal, of course. i can’t be on the news for this.” 

“of course,” you laughed.

you stopped about fifty feet away from the guards posted in front of the tall gates, unlocking your phone and handing it to yeonjun. he backed up a few feet, holding the phone in front of his face to snap a few pictures.

as soon as his arm lowered, you walked over to examine the photos, leaning over your phone together. 

“you really don’t know how to pose that well,” he spoke in an amused tone. 

“well not all of us can be world-famous models,” you complained, stomping your foot lightly.

“aren’t you just the cutest couple!”

both of you turned to the voice's origin, finding a short elderly lady standing just a few feet away. 

“oh, w-we’re not-”

“thank you,” yeonjun interrupted your protest, offering her a polite smile in return.

“oh, would you like your picture taken? you two just remind me of me and my husband back in the day.”

your eyes widened, “uh-”

“yes please,” yeonjun handed his own phone to the woman, before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close. you plastered a grin onto your face as she pressed the button. 

as she handed the phone back to him, she pulled yeonjun close to whisper loudly, “marry this one, love, it’s hard to find someone so special in this world nowadays.”

she walked off with a final wave of her hand and a wink directed towards you. you gulped as you sent her a tight smile.

if he was bothered by the old lady’s comment, he didn’t show it. “come on, let’s go get some food.”

the next morning, with no schedule until two in the afternoon, yeonjun found himself in a café in a small alleyway, a steaming black coffee sitting in front of him.

“i don’t know what to do, soobin,” yeonjun explained, “she’s my assistant, for christ’s sake.”

the man in question — a fellow model based in seoul, also one of yeonjun’s best friends — set his cup of coffee down on the small wooden table between them. “well, it sounds like you have some semblance of feelings for her, even if you don’t want to admit it. and you said that she gets flustered around you?”

yeonjun hummed.

“then she might have feelings for you, too, but it’s up to you to do something about it. she must be terrified to lose her job.”

“how insightful,” yeonjun quipped.

“don’t be an ass,” soobin glared, now nibbling at a croissant. the back corner of the café allowed for decent privacy, he doubted any of the media would find him here. they always assumed that he’d be at some swanky restaurant, those idiots. 

he ignored soobin’s comment. “someone mistook us as a couple yesterday,” yeonjun sighed, smiling a little at the memory. that little old lady had no idea. “they even told me to marry her.”

“you sure seem happy about that,” soobin shot back, a cocky smirk plastered on his lips. “you’re whipped and you don’t even know it.”

“shut up,” yeonjun weakly shot back, nose scrunching. “this is the last thing i expected to happen.”

“same here, buddy, same here.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“nothing at all,” soobin replied, hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. 

if you thought your time in london felt short, the six days spent in milan felt like only a few minutes.

“the days tend to pass by faster as the month goes on,” sihyun explained. “you’ll get used to it!”

on top of the normal fashion week activities, you found yourself shopping in expensive stores that you never thought you'd find yourself in. you only bought a few pieces, but that was enough money down the drain for you. yeonjun took you to a few italian restaurants, speaking in italian to the servers as if it were his native language. so far, you knew he could speak three languages. how he picked up italian, you had no idea, but you were grateful for it.

it also didn't help that those moments nearly felt like dates. every. single. time. yet you forced yourself to brush it off, making a move was off-limits. these were simple business meals, right? right? 

for your peace of mind, you considered them just that.

despite the constant inner turmoil, being surrounded by beautiful architecture and art and people had your heart leaping, and spending time with yeonjun caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. it was too bad this week had come to an end so soon.

‘but off to paris, i guess,’ you thought, a dark car carting you off to the airport once again.

“i’m sorry, what?”

“it seems there’s only one room booked under this reservation,” the concierge clarified with a sympathetic smile. “unfortunately, we’re fully booked this week. there’s no way i can find you another room.”

great. just great. you had done so well until now with planning and organizing and remaining on time, but you really had to get thrown off by a simple reservation? 

“jesus christ,” you muttered, turning to yeonjun. “i apologize, sir. i can stay at the hotel a couple of streets down where sihyun is staying if need be-”

“even her hotel is fully booked. all of them are right now. i can offer you to stay with me, or you can call her and see if she has enough space in her room to have you stay there.”

“i appreciate the offer, sir. let me call her real quick,” you excused yourself, walking outside. you hit her contact with shaking fingers. you looked up the dark sky as you waited for her to pick up, before scanning the busy street in front of you. late nights didn’t seem to faze these people.

“hello?” the phone muffled her voice, but you could still understand her.

“please tell me you have room in your hotel room,” you pleaded, desperation creeping into your tone. 

“i don’t. it’s like a small box, and my bed is twin, babe. i got the cheapest room available. why?”

“i, uh, might have only booked one room over here, but yeonjunofferedtoletmestaywithhim-”

“woah, woah, slow down, he what now? your life really is a hallmark movie! and don’t you deny it!” she exclaimed. you could hear her elated giggles.

“you shouldn’t be celebrating this! what do i do?” you frowned as you dragged your hand down your face.

“stay with him, duh! i don’t have room over here for you anyways.”

“fine.” you let out a shaky sigh, “but if something goes wrong i’m going to punch you.”

“you wouldn’t, you love me too mu-”

you ended the call.

•

changing with the knowledge that he sat outside had you sweating bullets. you still hadn't talked about how the sleeping arrangements were going to work, but you had been eyeing that couch from the moment you had stepped in the room. you didn't know if you could handle being any closer than that for more than two minutes.

you stepped out of the bathroom while tying back your hair into a ponytail. exhaustion creeped into your bones, the jet lag had never truly left ever since you had landed in new york. yeonjun already sat on one side of the bed. 

“thank you again,” you broke the silence first. “i can sleep on the couch.”

“no, i’ll be sleeping on the couch, it would be rude of me to make you.”

“no, no, no, you need better sleep than i do, i’ll take the couch.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“how about we share the bed, then?” he suggested. “i stay on one side, you stay on the other.”

you mulled over the idea for a few seconds, before shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“that could work.”

he nodded, the atmosphere thick with tension. this was new territory, stuck between the gray area of business and relationship. both of you could sense the change, and you weren't sure how to feel about it.

you crawled into the king-sized bed, scooting all the over to one side, nearly on the edge of the mattress. yeonjun followed suit.

he flicked off the light. “good night.”

“good night.”

the first sensation you felt when you awoke the next morning was something warm wrapped around your waist.

your eyelids blinked open to find a pair of arms around you, hands linked above your belly button. yeonjun's face was currently pressed into your neck. your face felt like a burning fireplace.

“holy shit,” you whispered to yourself, trying to slip from his grip. it was no use. his arms had you trapped. 

“oh fuck.” you heard a groggy voice from behind you as he pulled away. your squirming must have woken him up. “sorry about that.”

“i-it’s fine,” you stumbled over the small sentence. it’s not like you minded, anyways.

he moved over to stretch, a satisfied groan passing his lips. he seemed to have gotten over that incident pretty quickly.

“time to start the day.”

•

“you what?” sihyun screeched before you smothered her mouth with your hand. you smiled sheepishly at the bystanders walking by, offering a silent apology for your friend’s actions. you turned your eyes back to her, eyes narrowing. the nighttime rush seemed to be universal across all big cities.

“shush! there’s people staring!” you hissed.

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” she shot back, completely disregarding what you just said.

“we didn’t have time! it’s not like i could pull you aside and say ‘hey, i woke up in yeonjun’s arms this morning’ in the middle of a damn schedule! you think i want other models to hear that shit? no!”

“but still!”

“but nothing!”

she scoffed, stabbing at the salmon on her plate. “at least the plot is thickening. i kinda like this.”

“quit it with your hallmark movie theories, i beg of you.”

“never,” she chuckled. 

four busy days later, you stood on top of the eiffel tower with yeonjun. sihyun had made up some excuse to not go, even though your departure was scheduled for tomorrow. her loss.

"“the city looks beautiful from up here.” you looked across the cityscape, taking in the lights that stretched on for miles in all directions. the sun had since set, leaving a deep blue blanket in its place. “i never understood the appeal of paris. until now, at least.”

“it isn’t dubbed the city of love for nothing,” yeonjun replied, “it has to be beautiful.”

“not necessarily,” you said. “love can be an ugly, vile thing sometimes. there’s flaws in any relationship if you look hard enough, but i guess all of that ugliness could be hidden behind a guise of something beautiful, in the end.”

“i’ve never thought about it like that,” he murmured.

he didn't realize that he had shifted closer to you until you had turned your head towards his, your noses nearly brushing against each other. he watched as your eyes flitted down to his plump lips, your breath hitching in your chest when your eyes met his again. you found an intense glint in his eyes that you had never quite seen before. not during your last meeting with him, not ever during a show, this was foreign. you couldn't quite put a finger on what it meant.

everything seemed to move in slow motion as both of you began to lean in, the sound of your pounding heart drowning out any noises from below. your mouth felt dry as your eyelids fluttered shut.

ringringring!

both of you jumped at his loud text ringtone, and you stepped back. everything felt...off. 

“we should get going,” he muttered. you nodded wordlessly. there wasn’t anything for you to say.

a charged air surrounded your bodies as you silently made your way down to street level. neither of you spoke to each other on the way back to the hotel. 

the final show. one last show, and this month would officially be over.

you and yeonjun hadn't spoken a word to each other since last night, and you had taken the couch. he didn't protest your choice. you hoped sihyun didn't notice the uncomfortable silence that permeated the car as you made your way over to the venue, but you knew she did, she just wasn't commenting on it. 

you stood off to the side, out of the way of the designer and his assistants rushing about the backstage area. you watched silently as they put the final touches on each outfit and saved last-minute wardrobe malfunctions before a model needed to walk. it was amazing what this team could do in such a short period of time, they flowed like a well-oiled machine.

models soon began to file back into the main backstage area. you stared down at your feet, trying not to make eye contact with any of them as they returned from their changing rooms in casual clothes. you almost wished you could be invisible at times like these.

“hey, aren’t you yeonjun’s assistant?” 

your head shot up to be met with a man maybe a tiny bit shorter than your boss, with long brunette hair flopping into his face. his soft, almond-shaped eyes gave you a sense of friendliness. 

“that’s me. what did you need, sir?”

“just wanted to introduce myself.” he extended a hand out, “it’s nice to meet you.”

you took it, giving his palm a firm squeeze, “likewise.”

the conversation between you flowed easily. you had learned that he too was a model from korea, originally from daegu, but most of his activities were based in seoul. he had only been in the industry a few years, a 'late bloomer', he liked to call it with a chuckle.

“so, how’d you start working for the big ol’ ceo?” he turned the subject of the conversation to you.

“i interviewed for the job. i guess he found me to be a good fit, and that was that.”

“hm, how about you interview for me?”

your eyes widened. “u-um-”

“c’mon,” he took a step closer, “imagine working for me instead. i’m sure it’d be eons better than working for that asshole.”

“he isn’t an assho-”

“oh, but he is. are you sure you wouldn’t rather work for me?” he countered one of his eyebrows raising in disbelief. “i bet i’d pay you way more than that bastard, how much do you even make?”

“that’s not a very appropriate question,” you frowned. he placed a hand next to your head, essentially trapping you against the wall behind you.

“either he’s brainwashed you, or you’re lying,” he murmured, deep voice dropping lower than you thought possible. your hands began to shake as he leaned closer. 

“get the fuck away from her, beomgyu.”

you had heard that name before, mostly from yeonjun, and it was never a good thing. this was the infamous choi beomgyu?

oh god.

beomgyu sported a shit-eating grin as he turned to face him. “oh, hey, yeonjun. fancy seeing you here. i found your pretty little assistant over here by herself. shouldn’t let her stand here alone, y’know.” 

yeonjun’s hand balled up into a fist, but he didn’t punch him. yet his jaw remained locked as he gritted out his next sentence, “she can take care of herself, now get. away. from. her.”

“fine, fine, you win for now.” he licked his bottom lip as he glanced back at you before he walked off, “you know where to find me if you ever change your mind, sweetheart.”

yeonjun stared at you for a few seconds before reaching forward and grabbing your wrist. his ironclad grip forced you to follow him through the packed backstage area. you averted your eyes down to the floor, avoiding the questioning stares of the other models, stylists, and makeup artists that you nearly ran into as your boss rudely plowed through them. you made eye contact with a visibly worried sihyun, who had halted organizing her station. she looked ready to run over, but you shook your head. you wanted her to keep her job.

he didn't stop until you stood in front of his dressing room. he wrenched the door open, rage rolling off of him like crashing waves during a deadly storm. you wouldn't put it past him to fire you on the spot, your chest tight as he pulled you into the room.

you shouldn’t have let beomgyu flirt with you when you were in a professional environment, you shouldn’t have spoken to him when you knew damn well that yeonjun disliked him, you shouldn’t have let any of what just happened happen when you and yeonjun had grown closer in this past month. how could all of this come to a hapless end all because of a flirty, arrogant model who had no regard for those who worked below him? 

those thoughts swirled in your mind like a tornado as the door slammed shut behind you. your heart felt stuck in your throat while you tried to find the proper words to express yourself. 

“mr. choi-”

opening your mouth to apologize proved useless as his lips collided with yours. you reacted with a tiny squeak as he pressed your back into the door, his hands pinning your arms next to your head. he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, mouth molding against yours until your senses were overwhelmed by him. 

it seemed like you weren't getting fired, at least.

“tell me to stop,” he growled when he broke the kiss off, “right now.”

“what if i don’t want you to stop?” you whispered, absolutely breathless. his tongue ran over the edge of his top teeth as he searched your glossy eyes for any sense of regret. finding none, his lips found yours again, eventually breaking away to find the sensitive skin of your neck. you moaned out loud when he bit down right below your ear. he kept going, your thighs squeezing together at every nibble he delivered to the delicate flesh. 

his hands traveled to grip your hips, one abandoning post to play with the hem of your skirt. 

“is this okay?” he mumbled against your collarbone. 

“yes,” you gasped as his fingers rubbed against the inside of your thighs, sending a gush of arousal into your panties. he didn’t waste time pulling your skirt down to your ankles, panties following the article. you stepped out of them while he waited on his knees.

you almost choked on your spit when his plush lips met your clit, sucking and licking and tonguing at the tiny bud rapid enough to make you see stars behind your eyelids. you stifled your moans with your palm when one of his long fingers slipped into your soaked entrance, pumping at a fast pace. your legs tried to close around his head, but he used his free hand to keep them spread, fingertips digging into the fat of your thigh.

“yeon-jun!” you cried out when he added another finger, feeling your high rapidly approaching. “f-fuck, i’m gonna cum.”

“fucking do it, cum for me,” he ordered, before he sucked on your clit hard, fingers curling upwards against your plush walls in the most mind-melting way. the pressure building in your stomach finally snapped, legs almost giving out under you if it weren’t for yeonjun’s surefire grip on you.

he held you up until the aftershocks of your intense orgasm finally calmed down, though your thighs continued to quake as he stood up. his lips found yours in bruising clash of lips and tongue. his teeth nipped at your bottom lip as he guided you forwards.

“can you take more?” he questioned, lips hovering millimeters over your own. 

you released a pathetic whimper, “p-please.”

that one word plea had him bending you over the couch in front of you.

“good girl,” he rasped.

you looked forward to find a mirror a few feet in front of the sofa. you watched as he unzipped his trousers, bringing his boxers down with them until both pieces of clothing were discarded on the floor. his long, thick cock slapped against his stomach, the tip a angry red. the sight made your mouth water.

he brought his hand down to rub over the swell of your ass, the other bringing his dick to your entrance. he seemed to hesitate.

“i’m on birth control, just fuck me,” you whined while pushing back your hips to get him to enter you. he stilled you a small slap to your ass. 

your eyes rolled back as his cock breached your walls, letting him slowly work his way until he was fully sheathed in your slick warmth. he allowed you to adjust to the sheer size of him, taking when you started grinding back into him as a sign that he could move. 

your head drooped forward as his hips began to move, long, powerful thrusts that had you crying out. 

“yeah, that feel good, pretty girl? my big cock fucking open your tight little hole?” you whined out a shaky ‘yeah’ in response. 

“yeah?” he mocked, your mind dizzy with the different sensations bombarding your mind. “knew it, prim little girls like you just need a good cock and they’re drooling for more, isn’t that right?”

your walls squeezed around him, the pace of hips picking up with every thrust until he pistoned in and out of your sloppy hole. “that fucker could never make you feel this way, you hear me? never. who’s making you feel this good?”

too far gone to answer, you didn't bother to control to moans pouring out of your lips. a hand traveled up your still-clothed spine to find its home in your hair, pulling your head up until you made eye contact with your ruined reflection.

“i asked you a question, pretty girl,” he grunted as he felt you tighten around him. he gripped your hair a little harder. “answer it.”

your glossy eyes rolled back, fluttering up to his own every few seconds in the as you tried your best to think of the proper answer. what did he ask again? you couldn't rememeber. he could see a frown pulling at your eyebrows.

“i said,” he leaned over your body, pressing his lips right up against your ear, his hot breath caressing your ear, “who the fuck is making you feel this good?”

you nearly cum right there. the words exploded from your mouth. “you! y-you are! yeonjun, ‘m so close! p-please!”

he bit his lip at your current state: a panting, fucked out little mess all because of him. not beomgyu, but him. you were his.

and so he wrapped his hand around the front of your body, two fingers locating your slippery clit, the squelching coming from your hole growing louder as he slammed into you time and time again, his cock pressing up against that one spot inside you that had your entire body shaking underneath him. 

supernovas scattered across your vision as white-hot pleasure hit you like a truck, back arching as you clenched around him sporadically. he choked, moans growing higher pitched as he chased his own high. right before he could release, he pulled out, spilling spurts of cum onto your ass.

your head sagged against the sofa cushion, the sweat from your forehead staining the leather. you heard yeonjun walk away, only to feel tissues being wiped across your backside. you were half-conscious when he pulled your panties and skirt back up. he helped you up, finding a very flushed yeonjun behind you, a lock of his once perfectly styled hair now plastered against his forehead.

“let’s get cleaned up,” he said softly, helping you sit down on the couch, “you’re lucky these rooms are soundproof.”

a knock at the door had both of you whipping around to face it. a male’s voice echoed through the wood. “yeonjun! are you coming with us to celebrate?”

“yeah, give me a few minutes to change!” he called back, before sending you a concerned look. “will you be okay?”

“mhm, go ahead,” you encouraged. he sent you a grateful smile as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead and styling his hair back into place. he slipped out of the door, leaving you alone in the white room.

a few minutes later, you walked out of the room, only to find a few staff members left to clean up the space. as soon as she spotted you, sihyun ran over to you, “y/n, what the hell just happened?”

“we...we just had sex.”

"“sihyun, hey, i’m at the airport right now. don’t worry about me. yes, i’m flying home. something happened. yeah, let yeonjun know for me. thanks. i’ll see you monday. love you too, hyun. bye.” 

you hit the red button on your screen to end the call, sighing as you sat in the terminal. you bought a ticket for the first red-eye flight available to incheon. you felt the need to leave, run away, from all of this. you needed to get back home so you could sort through all of these feelings and thoughts. 

sure, that was definitely the best sex you'd ever experienced, but that was also exactly what was eating at your conscience at this moment. the line between boss and friend — and, dare you say it, lover — seemed blurred.

and that fact scared the absolute shit out of you.

you weren't sure if you could continue working for him after what had transpired, you felt as if your professional character had been trashed beyond repair. you didn't see a way to come back after having sex with your boss.

as you waited for your flight to be called, you slipped your laptop out of your carry-on, flipping open the screen and creating a new document, your fingers flying across the keys.

monday came much faster than you wanted it to.

the envelope in your hands felt like a thousand-pound weight. in a sense, it was. all of your feelings were poured into each and every word. 

you followed your normal routine: keyed into the building, said hello to the receptionist, took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and found yeonjun's office. you knocked.

“come in,” you heard him say.

you took once last deep breath before pushing the door open. you greeted him as per usual, but you didn't dare sit as you handed the envelope. 

“what’s this?” he questioned, glancing between you and the envelope. 

“my resignation letter, mr. choi.”

he stared up at you, unable to articulate any of his racing thoughts. you smiled sadly. he hated seeing that smile.

“thank you for this amazing opportunity, but i just don’t find it appropriate to work for you anymore.” you turned and walked out of his office, passing sihyun with one last hug. 

“i just quit, i hope you understand.” you grinned as tears pricked your eyes. it felt like your life was crumbling right before your eyes.

“oh, honey,” she cooed, bringing you in for another one of her suffocating hugs.

you held back the tears until you sat in your car. you couldn't blame anyone but yourself for all of this.

“sihyun, please come up to my office.”

“yes, sir.” 

sihyun opened the door to his office, clicking it shut after she stepped inside.

“please sit.”

her eyes widened at his next words.

“i don’t want to lose her.”

she could feel her heart crack at those words. who knew choi yeonjun was just as hopeless a romantic as herself? “y/n’s a tough girl, but she can’t handle everything herself. she might be a perfect problem solver in the workplace, but she’s notorious for running away from personal problems. her address is in our employee files, so you better go get her before she runs away for good.”

he nodded. “thank you, sihyun. you are dismissed.”

“good luck, mr. choi.”

you heard a knock at your door at noon. though your tears had dried, you knew you had to look like utter trash.

“i didn’t order anything…” you muttered, lookimg through the peephole to find someone who you never expected. 

yeonjun.

you unlocked the door, whipping it open. “why are you here?”

“can we talk?”

you blinked. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

“there’s everything to talk about.” he held up your letter.

your throat felt as dry as a desert. “fine.”

you opened the door enough to let him in, allowing him to follow you over to your couch. you tried to sit away from him, but he found the seat right next to yours. he reached for your hand, but you snatched it away. you couldn't even look him in the eye, but you could sense how much that hurt him.

“i read every single word of your letter, and i’m fucking in love with you, too.” 

you froze, the emotions coming too fast for you to process. tears stung your eyes. a call of your name caused you to look up at him.

“oh, baby,” he cooed, and with that, the tears spilled over. he gathered you in his arms, rocking you back and forth as you hiccuped and sobbed into his chest. you gripped at his shoulders as if he would disappear. his heart ached. 

he made you follow his breathing, just like he did during that first flight with him, until you calmed down. you looked up at him with watery eyes, a weak grin on your face before you leaned up to kiss him.

every single pent up emotion flowed in between you, his body pressing up against yours until there was no empty space left between you. your hands ran through his onyx hair while his hands wrapped around your waist. you felt needed, whole, complete. 

you felt loved. completely, and utterly loved. 

you broke away with a panted giggle, although your cheeks remained wet. “sihyun’s gonna love this one.”

“why is that?” he raised an amused eyebrow.

“that’s a long story. another day.” and your lips found his again. you don’t think you could ever get enough. 

but neither could he.

taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx​ @nyfwyeonjun​ @txtatz​ @imtotallydef​ @jiminaaaahhhh​ @hwaddict​ @vantxx95​

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[captains-simp]

can you do a fic where reader unintentionally breaks one of the rules by accident so she has to be punished but the punishment is being ignored by BOTH wanda AND nat and reader is uncomfortable with being ignored because it makes her feel invisible and like she's a ghost so like this is what happens, reader breaks a rule in front of wanda and nat but reader doesn't realize she broke a rule but wanda and nat punish reader without telling reader first, and they punish her by not acknowledging her presence and stuff then reader just breaks and starts crying and stuff, she's really upset until nat and wanda cave in and see what's wrong with reader because they didnt know that reader didnt realize she broke a rule and her punishment was being ignored by them

also nat is dom, wanda is switch (like wanda is sub to nat but dom to reader) and reader is sub also nat, wanda and reader are in a poly dom/sub relationship and dating

Oh my god is this ✨smut with a developed storyline✨?

Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff ~ 3rd Wheel

Warnings: debatable toxic traits, feelings of abandonment and unlove, fingering, praise, oral and hints of overstimulation

2.4k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You giggled as Sam made stupid sound effects every time he paused in telling his story. You were pretty sure the story wasn’t true but hearing him tell it was entertaining enough. He put his hand on your forearm as he laughed at his own comeback to some apparently ‘very real’ character in the story and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. That was until your other arm was grabbed and pulled you to your feet. 

“It’s late, we should go.” Natasha said curtly. You nodded and said goodbye to Sam with a tight hug and followed after the Russian as Wanda joined her at her side. 

“How did your meeting go?” You teased the redheads. Officially, what you had just attended was a party. Unofficially, it was a chance for Natasha and Wanda to gather more intel for a future mission that they had been working on for months. Tony, to no one’s surprise, was more than happy to help by hosting the party and it was just like any other to everyone else. You had missed your girlfriend’s company at first, but had eventually started socializing with the others and the night had flown by. 

When you were met with silence you assumed you didn’t hear either of their responses over the music so you sped up your steps slightly to stick close by. Once you got to the car you knew they were in a bad mood. It was one thing when one of them was mad but both of them was a whole other storm. Not that it was always bad. Sometimes they would take that anger out on you in the bedroom and you had secretly been dying to be fucked like that for a while. 

You tried to make conversation a few times, telling the pair about Sam’s story and how it was probably about as real as fairies but they still didn’t respond. Of course, you had no idea that these things were just making them madder and that Wanda and Natasha were communicating silently most of the time, discussing the meeting as they ignored you. You gave up eventually and gazed out the window as you fiddled with the fabric of your dress. 

Once you were home things only seemed to get worse. “I made dinner before we left.” You said as you looked under the grill to find that the three served plates were still fine and put them on the counter. You had cooked before getting ready because you knew your girlfriends were busy and were going to be hungry when they got home. You glanced at the two women to see Natasha undoing her girlfriend’s zipper and placing a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. You smiled at the tender site. 

“Hey, where’s my kiss?” You teased as Natasha started towards the bedroom but shouldered right past you. You looked to Wanda but she didn’t spare you a glance either as she strolled through the apartment to your shared bedroom. You watched them go with a dry mouth and dragged yourself to the bathroom where you struggled to undo the zipper of your dress before finally succeeding after five minutes of struggling and sore arms. One of the redheads usually did it for you before you could even think to ask.  

You stepped into the shower and tried to focus on the feeling of the hot water running down your body, hoping it would distract you from the dull ache near your heart. It didn’t work. You wondered if you had done anything to annoy them at the party but could think of nothing. With a disgruntled sigh, you turned off the water and stepped out of the safety of the shower. You quickly dried off and tiptoed to your now-empty bedroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you went back into the kitchen you found only one of the plates was left. You glanced over at the living area to see Wanda and Natasha curled up together on the couch under a blanket as they watched TV and ate the food you made. They could have at least warmed mine up. You grumbled to yourself as you put it in the microwave and made yourself a drink. You trudged over to the couch but Wanda extended her legs to cover the free space just as you were about to sit down. You looked up at them both but their eyes were still glued to the TV. 

You sat down tentatively on the armchair closest to the couch and started taking small bites of your food. You weren’t paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, your eyes kept flickering to the two redheads curled up on the couch together. They looked so warm and tender laying together. You wished so desperately you could be with them, but instead you just felt like an outsider. That had always been a big insecurity for you. Wanda and Natasha were both Avengers and you were just a normal citizen. You often wondered if you ever felt like a burden, the weak part of their relationship. You could never understand their lives the way they could, you could only watch. Usually, you would voice your concerns and insecurities to them and they would assure you to no end that they loved you more than anything. However speaking had gotten you nowhere that night, so you kept it to yourself. 

You sat in the living room for hours. You wanted to go to bed so badly. You were utterly exhausted and your eyes were starting to hurt from the lights in the room you wanted to be shielded from. But you were determined not to go until the other two did. You wanted to be curled up between them both like you always were. You wanted to feel safe and secure and most of all loved. 

Finally, Natasha turned off the television and stretched out like a cat on the couch before standing and making her way to the bedroom, leading Wanda by the hand. You put your uneaten plate of food on the side to deal with the next day, too tired to even think about it at that moment. The pair instantly dropped down into bed and Natasha held Wanda tightly as she rested her head on the Russian’s chest. You gazed down at them longingly but forced yourself into bed besides them. You reached out your hand to tug weakly on their shirts, desperate for any kind of acknowledgement but received none. You withdrew your hand and held it up to your chest as you watched the pair. How long had they been craving time to themselves? 

You slowly got out from under the covers and left the room without feeling their usual fond gazes on your back. You lingered in the hallway before glancing back and saw Natasha tracing circles on Wanda’s back. You gulped back tears and made your way to the spare bedroom where you slept alone for the first time in months. 

*

You didn’t get up until lunch the next day. You didn’t feel like doing anything, especially not facing your girlfriend. You wanted to stay out of their way to give them the alone time they so clearly needed.

When you had finally dragged yourself out of bed and into the hallway you froze. Wanda’s moans could be heard clearly from your bedroom followed by sharp cries of Natasha’s name. You stood rooted to the spot as the pain in your chest grew worse. Since they had so keenly invited you into their relationship. The pair had never once done anything sexual without you. At first you had been flattered and insisted that you were okay if they wanted to do things by themselves every once in a while but eventually you had grown used to how things were. You had grown used to being included in everything. 

Numbly, you made yourself a hot chocolate in hopes of it raising your spirits. Not long after you had finished, your girlfriends came wandering into the kitchen with a new glow. 

“Do you want a drink?” You piped up, you could at least be helpful. Wanda grabbed something from the fridge as Natasha took out a glass from the cupboard and spun around to kiss her girlfriend on the lips with a soft giggle. Wanda smiled against her and hummed when Natasha’s tongue teased the Sokovian’s lower lip. 

“I love you.” Natasha hummed and Wanda smiled with a blush as she said the words back. 

“I- I love you too.” You added and took a desperate step towards them both, holding out your hands to them but they separated and started to stroll back into the living room. You watched on as tears sprung to your eyes. They didn’t say it back. They always said it back. “Please.” You whispered though you may have well have been talking to a wall. You whimpered quietly and weakly made your way to the guest room where you closed the door and fell down onto the bed, not being able to stop the tears streaming down your face. You curled up on yourself and hugged your duvet as close to your body as possible, needing something to cling onto like a lifeline. 

You didn’t hear the door open through your muffled weeping. You did feel the gentle pair of hands on your waist and the dip in the bed either side of you. Your head shot up and you looked between the pair in panic, fearing they were going to tell you to go elsewhere for the day or even forever. Wanda shushed you softly and held your dampened cheeks in her hands. 

“It’s okay, honey.” Wanda cooed and you whimpered as you tried to enjoy what you assumed was the last time she would hold you. “We’re not going anywhere and neither are you.” You peered at her cautiously and then Natasha who nodded gently. 

“We’re sorry, baby. Sam was getting a little too handsy last night and you didn’t seem to notice.” Natasha explained carefully. You remembered the brief moment he had touched your waist and frowned at the memory. 

“And you know letting people touch what isn’t theirs is breaking a rule.” You nodded slowly as Wanda added on.

“So your punishment was being ignored by us so you could learn but we took it too far.” Natasha admitted.

“And we never told you what was happening. We’re so sorry we made you feel this way, sweetie. We love you so much.” Wanda said as she kissed you softly on the lips as Natasha lay down behind you and wrapped her arms protectively around your waist. 

“So so much.” She added. 

“Promise?” You asked and Wanda lay down to join you and wipe your tears away. 

“Always.” 

“Let us show you.” Natasha whispered against your neck and you nodded as she rolled you gently onto your back and began planting soft kisses along your neck, occasionally lingering on patches of skin to suck dark bruises into them. Wanda titled your head towards you and kissed you slowly, cherishing the taste of you and wanting to reclaim all that she could. 

Natasha’s hands started to wander down your stomach and landed at the hem of your sweatpants that she easily surpassed along with your panties. You gasped when you felt her fingers run along your folds and up to your clit. You bucked your hips and moaned against Wanda when she applied some pressure, all while the Sokovian started to retrace her girlfriend’s steps by running her hands across your breasts. Her thumbs brushed against your hardened nipples and she hummed against you. 

Natasha finally pushed two fingers past your folds and relished in the slick that coated them instantly. She curled them gently inside you and withdrew to start about making a consistent pace that had you melting beneath them both. 

“That’s it, sweetie.” Wanda assured in the most loving tone you had ever heard from her. 

“Taking me so well. Our best girl.” Natasha hummed and withdrew her fingers. You whined softly but shushed when Natasha brought her fingers up to Wanda’s lips and slid them inside. The Sokovian hummed in delight around Natasha’s fingers, eagerly licking her slender digits before retreating to start down your body, determined to gain an unfiltered taste. 

Wanda pulled your sweatpants and panties off completely and kissed up your thighs softly, taking her time in treasuring you just as Natasha had done with your neck. She gleamed at the sight before her and didn’t hesitate to lick a long strip between your folds. You mewled in Natasha’s hold as Wanda moaned against you. “Always so sweet.” She dipped her tongue inside of you and you clenched around her muscle with a gasp.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for us.” Natasha praised softly as she started to rub your clit with her free hand. You bucked against both their movements, feeling beautifully overwhelmed by it all. Wanda’s tongue flicked inside you and you moaned loudly into the air, tempting Natasha to quieten you with a kiss while your other girlfriend continued to work between your legs that were beginning to shake. 

“Please.” You whined as you felt your high approaching. The pair smiled at one another as they continued to please you. 

“I can feel you clenching my tongue.” Wanda mused.

“Go ahead and cum for us, baby.” You did as you were told without a second’s delay. You moaned loudly into the air as you shuddered against the bed and came undone on Wanda’s tongue. The pair helped you ride out your high and into another orgasm relentlessly. They didn’t let up, making you cum again and once more, leaving you feeling utterly exhausted and overworked. 

“That’s it, darling. You did so good for us.” Wanda praised as she fell down besides you and they both held you protectively. 

“We love you.” Natasha muttered softly and you smiled.

“I love you both too.” You hummed, enjoying the warmth of your girlfriends’ comfort.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @freewaysigns-underpasses @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @mrs-avenger3000 @nightingalxx @sky-kim-00 @yeeterthekeeper @didujustcallmedumb @ymzki-haruki @uno-x-uno

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[sor-vette]

22:43

• type: Namjoon x reader • w/c: 1.5k • rating: explicit

• c/w: smut, male masturbation, handcuffs and tying up, marking, overstimulation, smidge of dom/sub dynamics because it's a classic, hair pulling, sort of rough sex but very much in the feels all the same

• part of: “Life of 27” drabble series set in “The Curious Move-In to Apartment 27”

• set: before "Furious Friday"

• a/n: no one requested this and this will be added to the endless list of sins crawling on my back. Prompt was "your hair is so soft" & Namjoon is respectfully horny. Thanks to @introlxv for beta reading this, embarrassing me in public and giving validation all in one fell swoop, thanks bubs

• tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @medicinemybish; @babycoffeefire;

It's not that Namjoon doesn't respect you. He's got nothing but admiration for you. Your strength, your hard-working nature, your everything. He admires it all and he just wants to make it clear (for whom though) that he respects you and that respectfully he wants to bend your little ass over this kitchen counter and plough into you until both of you lose consciousness. But once again just to be unmistakably clear - he does respect you. And because of that, he doesn't in fact charge towards you, like he wants to, doesn't wrap his hand around your throat and kiss you and continue kissing till there's no breath left in your lungs. He looks at his own hand, dazed. He's fairly certain he could cup your entire breast in this hand. It's a scintillating thought.

He peers back at you, sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, laughing at something Taehyung said. It's a quiet evening in, the sort of evening where everyone did their own thing together. Quality time. Jimin has his head tucked on Namjoon's shoulder as they watched a movie, local production, largely to learn the language. His eyes were drooping dangerously low and Jungkook had already fallen victim to sleep, mouth hanging open and snoring in a deeply unflattering way which of course meant that Hobi had already taken a picture of this and it was saved in a dreadfully brutal array of pictures that would damage even Jin's ocean of confidence. But that was neither here nor there because as it stood Namjoon was having yet another stiff problem with yet another no real way to solve it. He had only yesterday gathered enough courage to slip an arm around your shoulder while you walked from the shop, all underneath a guise of protecting you from cars. Was the street entirely deserted at that given moment? Yes but again, that was neither here nor there.

What was there, was your ass, squeezed into those shorts, your legs swinging against the floor, hair unruly and flowing around.

"Your hair is so soft," he mutters to himself, insane at this point.

"Thanks," Jimin mumbles, half-asleep.

The more Namjoon looks at you, the more he realises that this night the problem won't be solved with something so menial as images of dying cats or whatever. The sweat sticking to his back alone pushed him to act. He gently pries Jimin off his shoulder and runs to his room, pretending he can't see Yoongi's condemning gaze glinting from the corner.

He carefully shuts his bedroom doors and falls into the bed, weighing on the moral implications of all of this. It was wrong. Men were indeed dogs but neither of these moral acknowledgements soothed his problem. So he closed his eyes and pictured a better future.

You'd be lying next to him, after a long day of work and you'd both be reading a book together. He'd have one hand around your shoulder, innocent at first but then it would travel to your breast, pinching the nipple, testing the waters. You'd give him one arched eyebrow but the smirk playing on your lips would indicate that you don't mind that much. He'd cup your breast and they'd fit in his palm. It was such an odd little thing to get heated about but he did. His mind raced forward in the scenario to you naked and screaming but he reigned it back at again. He'd start slowly, wanting to savour the moment even though it'd get more painful by the minute. He was never the patient type. He'd kiss your neck and then bite into it, give you nice little purple marks, colour you in like an artwork. He'd continue to tease your breasts, hiking up your shirt and lowering his mouth to your nipples. Biting, pinching, enjoying. He'd then move downward, feather-light and worshipping, trying to seem like he was in such high control. But he'd know that you knew. You knew that the tremble in his arms wasn't of excitement but of holding back. He trailed his own finger down the stomach simulating some sort of joint feeling with reality and the fantasy.

He'd like for you to ride his face, that would be a dream. His mind diverted sideways, a dream within a dream. He'd hold your shaking thighs firm, maybe leave finger-shaped bruises alongside your thigh. You'd be worried. What if you crush him, what if you'd break his face? Break me, he thought. Break me and that would be heaven indeed. You'd try to get away, pawing at his hair to be released but he wouldn't. He'd yank you closer and bring you over and over again, over the edge.

But as pleasant as that fantasy was and as crudely as it sounded, his dick was screaming. Fumbling over the timeline of the fantasy he returned back to the book reading one. As he gripped his length he imagined your hand doing so. Tucking him out of the pyjama pants, swapping sloppy kisses.

He imagined that moment the clearest - the moment he'd enter you. The crease in your forehead, trying to adjust him, the arch in your back, the way your mouth fell open in a breathy moan. All of it. He'd grip your back and bring you closer, stuff you full and you'd whimper so nicely. Slowly he slid his fingers up and down, momentarily reaching after a bottle of lube, lodged between his nightstand and bed frame. When it slid down to his stomach, he groaned imagined his dream self gushing on and on about how wet you were. Warm and wet, feeling like absolute heaven. As he began to get tired of edging himself, he ran his hand faster along his length, becoming more brutal in the dream. Coming to the favourite part of his scenario and the one he needed this night. Gripping your hair, he'd pull your head backwards, nipping harshly on your neck. His mind circulated a single word that coated his entire body with a new layer of sweat. Handcuffs.

So in his fantasy, your hands were now bound together. Wrists looking small and helpless enclosed in the metal cage that rattled against the headboard. Something about that had him feral. Mouth hanging open from overstimulation you'd moan and beg that you couldn't do this anymore and then he'd coo that just one, just another one, weren't you his good girl?

You'd whine but would nod along. You were.

Admiring the way your ass bounced with every harsh slap of his hips, that same slimy, shamelessly horny part of himself whispered in his proverbial ear - handcuffs didn't go just around hands. He nearly came right there and then. Your legs spread apart, forced apart by a pair of glimmering handcuffs on your ankle, tied to the bed and forced to take anything and everything he'd give you. Lewd, obscene sounds of slapping skin that would make any passerby flush became louder both in reality and his dream.

"I'm going to break this pussy," he'd whisper in your ear. "Have you limping for days. You won't be thinking of anything other than me. Other my cock."

A single tear rolling down the cheek, you'd eagerly agree, trashing around, driven to incoherence. Good, he thought, he was usually like this in the daytime, you drove him to stupidity each and every day, only fair he'd to it in return.

Moments away he'd imagine kissing your pulse, feeling the erratic heartbeat and relishing that both of you were here to feel it. Logistically it didn't make sense as you were just tied to the bedframe but again that was the bonus of delusion, the adaptability. He'd come into you with a loud groan, fill you up and then it would trickle down your thigh. He'd continue thrusting, holding you close, playing again with your breasts and whispering that he loves you. Growling that one day he'll marry you so don't you begin to think you're getting off the hook ever again. And because it was his perfect fantasy, you'd give him an exhausted smile and say that you didn't mean to. You loved him back, you would say, tugging at his hair, whilst he was still inside you, both panting into the heady air of the room. You loved him and you wouldn't leave and with that, the fantasy shattered. He looked himself over and grimaced. His cum had managed to splatter on his stomach, hand and sheets. Gross.

Rapidly coming back from the high, his now more rational mind began to scream. Just a ceaseless drone of embarrassed horror, occasionally interrupted by harsh reprimands of "respect women, you horny dog, respect, where did the respect go". Smiling mirthlessly to himself he recognized that the voice was eerily similar to Yoongi when he launched into one of those whiny, accusatory rants of his.

© sor-vette, 2022

[frostedfaves]

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed. 

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

-

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

-

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

[yamalegacy]

prompt eleven with mirko 😳

i've already done 11 with midnight but idc, i love buff bunny too much not to do it! and well, considering how it aligns with the godly possessive!rumi hcs, it's way too tempting anyway! so here goes!

prompt: #11 from this list  “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

pairing: mirko (usagiyama rumi) x gn!reader

cw: SMUT. afab reader. rumi is a possessive bunny. brat!reader. dom/sub dynamic. hair pulling, spanking, dirty talking, slight degradation & praise kink (yes, both at the same time, don’t underestimate rumi), fingering, strapon, slight anal fingering. oh boy this really is the filthiest thing i’ve written in a loooong time.

word count: about 3,7k words WOPS I GOT CARRIED AWAY

⚠️ MDNI reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

   Your phone buzzes exactly seven minutes after you started a conversation with Keigo— he insists you call him Keigo, because Hawks is too professional and Takami is too formal, his own words. Seven whole minutes (yes, you’ve been keeping an eye on the time during the whole conversation). It’s over six minutes later than you’d expected, really. It buzzes again almost immediately, and you make a point to ignore your phone for a bit as you glance at Rumi, on the other side of the bar, over the rim of your glass.

When she arcs an eyebrow at you, visibly losing her patience, you give all your attention to Keigo again and offer him a smile before pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the messages you’ve no doubt received from the Rabbit Hero.

fluffy butt 🐇🤍

i bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home

It’s almost disappointing how predictable she is with these things. Almost. Rumi is way too hot when she gets jealous for it to actually be disappointing. You want to remind her that she is the one who invited you to that bar and who left you alone to get drinks, that she is the one who got distracted by a conversation with Ryukyu, but you decide to leave her on read and see what happens.

From where you stand, you can see Rumi’s internal struggle not to just abruptly cut Ryukyu in the middle of what she is saying so that she can get right between you and Keigo. It’s quite the amusing sight, from her flattened ears to her thumping foot, her attitude reeks of frustration. You can’t help but wonder what will tick her off so much that she will intervene — Keigo has only touched you shoulder and given your arm a light squeeze and Rumi is already seething, so it seems likely just about anything would set her off.

“I can hear her thump from here,” Keigo comments, a lazy smile adorning his lips. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

You chuckle at his words.

“I think she’s trying to see whether or not looks can kill.”

He leans closer to you (and you know it’s much too closer to Rumi’s standards because you can smell the minty alcohol on his breath), “I sure hope looks can kill. It’d be a lot less painful than her foot up my— well, wherever she fancies shoving it, I guess.”

You don’t even have time to give him a reaction that you can hear heavy footsteps approaching, so you lean away from Keigo just enough to properly look at your girlfriend as she marches over to you. It’s only now that she is right here that you notice she’s opened her leather jacket, revealing one of her favorite crop tops — black, sinfully tight and exposing just the right amount of cleavage and abs to make your mouth water. 

God, her skin always looks so tempting, you want to reach out, to put a hand on her waist, under her jacket, but she grabs you by the wrist before you can even try to move a muscle. Her eyes are fixed on you, and, to your surprise, she doesn’t even acknowledge Keigo.

“We’re leaving,” she says, her tone stern.

“Rumi... it’d be rude to leave so early,” you tell her, smiling at her with all the innocence you can muster (enough to fool anyone who doesn’t know you well), “and you are the one who wanted us to come here in the first pl—”

“We’re leaving. I remembered I have something to do.”

You want to push, to tease, to see how far she’ll go, so even if her tone leaves no room for argument, you open your mouth again.

“But you—”

“Now.”

She tugs are your arm and you follow as she takes a first few steps away from Keigo, only to turn around and face him.

“I hope you choke on your fucking feathers, birdy.”

“Always nice to talk to you, Usagiyama,” he simply smirks and gives her a small wave of his hand, “and I hope something,” he glances at you, “will enjoy getting done.”

Rumi doesn't give you any time to say goodbye to him, or to any of her hero friends, and she drags you out of the bar, heading straight for her car. She doesn't even let you register how forceful she is being that you've already been shoved in the passenger seat.

The ride home is short (too short; Rumi drives way too fast for a Pro Hero who is supposed to set an example for those around her) and awfully quiet. She didn't even look at you, didn't glance your way at least once like she usually does. Rumi's ears are still flattened in annoyance when she opens the door of her house to push you inside.

She kicks off her sneakers and takes off her leather jacket to leave it on the back of chair, then heads to the couch, sitting down nonchalantly, arms crossed under her chest in a way that pushes up her tits. All you can do is stare, unable to form a coherent thought as you settle down next to her.

“You had fun flirting with Big Bird, baby?” she asks, and the question would be innocent enough if you didn't know your girlfriend better.

You move so that you're facing Rumi on the couch, your knee bumping into a strong thigh — and maybe, for a moment, you get briefly distracted by the thought of these rippling muscles on either side of your head.

“Come on, Rumi, you know there was no actual flirting. We were just having fun.”

She leans closer to you, invading your personal space, face so close to yours that all you can see in the harsh coldness in her eyes. You barely have time to blink that one of her hands is at the back of your head, her grip on your hair surprisingly gentle.

“Oh, because you think I don’t know what little game you were playing with him there?” she is nearly snarling at you, and this time, her grip on your hair tightens, deliciously painful, and she tugs. “Why do you think I waited so long to grab you, uh?”

So, she knew? The whole time you spent talking with Keigo, flirting with him and allowing him to flirt to get a reaction from her, she knew? And it still didn't stop her from getting jealous and acting possessive in the middle of a bar, surrounded by numerous other Pro Heroes.

Her grip on your hair tightens once more and she brings you closer to her body.

"I just wanted to see how far you'd take your little game," she explains, words nearly spat through her gritted teeth. "But I couldn't take it anymore. You're mine, understood?" she asks, but the way she pulls at your hair clearly tells you that she expects no reply.

"I thought we agreed that I was my own person?" you smirk, even as she yet again tugs at your hair. "We said we don't own each other even if we're dating, didn't we?"

It is true, it's something you've talked about pretty early in your relationship together, after Rumi admitted that she could get jealous easily, but hated that she got jealous. It led to conversation about acting possessive during sex and marking, and you know that's what Rumi is going on about right now, and not some sort of ownership that she'd have over you because she is your girlfriend. But you can't help it, can't help wanting to push all her buttons and see what kind of punishment it earns you.

"You're playing smartass with me now, uh?"

She tugs at your hair again, forcing your head back slightly, but you hold eye contact, refusing to let her get the submission that she wants from you just now. You've already earned yourself a punishment, might as well make the most of it, right?

"I would never."

You smile innocently and bat your eyelashes at her, even if the pain tickling your scalp is starting to blur your sight.

She lets go of your hair without saying anything, and for just a second, you think she might be too annoyed with your act and drop the issue entirely to move on and do whatever she feels like doing for the rest of the night. But she wraps her strong fingers around your wrist and pulls, her free hand pressing harshly between your shoulder blades to push you down onto her lap, face into the couch cushion and ass up, perched over her thighs.

Well, shit.

The first spank comes unexpectedly fast and hard, you have no time to brace yourself for the impact, and your jeans do little to absorb the shock and the pain spreading through your cheek.

“Shit!” you groan through gritted teeth, trying your best not to get too loud, which is most likely exactly what Rumi wants right now.

“Got something to say, baby?” Rumi asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Nope. All good,” you mumble.

A second slap comes, matching the first one in speed and strength, leaving your ass numb from the pain. If there’s one thing you can never expect from your girlfriend, it’s for her to go easy on you.

“All good, you said?”

“Yup,” you whimper pathetically, your voice having none of the bite you wish for. Two spanks, and Rumi already has you trembling over her lap, it’s ridiculous, but you should have seen it coming, really.

She spanks you again, twice, and takes the time to brush the palm of her hand over your sore cheeks, the gesture almost soothing. She repeats the movements again, and again, before stopping to give your ass a squeeze. With each spank, you pant, forcing yourself to swallow the moans that threaten to fall past your lips.

“You’re taking your punishment really well today, baby. Trying to be good for me?” she teases, her hand now comfortably lodged between your thighs, too close to your aching core and yet not nearly close enough.

“Or maybe you’re not hitting as hard as you think you are.”

You aren't sure why you said that, aren't sure what you're doing right now, all you know is that it's dangerous because you're just provoking Rumi — it's always a recipe for disaster in the end.

She doesn't spank you though, but she snakes a hand between her lap and your stomach, pressing her fingers into your skin and pushing up until you put your weight on your knees and lift yourself up enough for her to get access to the button of your pants. Rumi hooks her fingers at the hem of your jeans and tugs, dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear.

She doesn't give you time to adapt to the cool air against your exposed bottom, doesn't let you collect your thoughts or even take a breath, before she is spanking you again. She marks no pause between each strike, just spanks and spanks and spanks. Lost in the rapid fire of her assault on your sensitive ass, you can't stop yourself from moaning — and that's when she pauses.

“Did my baby just moan?”

You stubbornly refuse to respond, clenching your jaw. You know a spank is coming, but you still aren’t ready for the pain.

“It’s okay to admit that you’re just a slut, desperate for me to touch you,” she coos, her calloused fingers gently brushing the raw skin of your ass. “Even if I’m just spanking you, you want me to touch you, don’t you? Because you’re a needy little whore for me, uh?”

Her words cause a shiver to run down your spine, straight to your core, but you press your thighs together and bit your tongue. You’re well aware what she wants you to do, what she wants you to say, but you don’t want to give it to her today. You’ve decided to play, and you won’t back down just because she’s spanking your ass raw. At your stubborn silence, she all but growls in your ear, her annoyance obvious as she slaps your burning cheek once more.

“How long do you think you can resist, baby?” she asks as her fingers trace little patterns on your back, your shirt riding up as her hand slowly moves higher. “How long til you act like the good little slut you are for me?”

You muffle your whine in the cushion, which is starting to feel uncomfortably wet from your tears and drool under your cheek. You hate it, but you can’t give in now. Rumi would be too pleased.

“Just say you’re mine, baby, say you’re my perfect good little slut,” she says, her fingers trailing down your back to settle between your thighs, an inch from where you need her most, “just say it and I promise I’ll fuck your pretty cunt so good you won’t be able to walk.”

She runs a finger along your drenched fold, and you hear her hum in delight. You hate how wet she’s making you; you can’t deny that this is all for her, that it’s the effect she has one you. Met with only silence once again, Rumi harshly pinches your clit between her thumb and index finger.

“Aaah! Rumi—” you gasp, whole body quivering.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimper weakly.

“Uh? What did you say? Didn’t hear you, baby. Stop hiding in the couch and gimme a proper sentence.”

You nearly sob as she tightens her grip on your clit before releasing it.

“I’m your slut! All yours!” you feel your whole face burning at your own word, at the desperation in your voice. “I need you to fuck me! Please... Mirko... please fuck me.”

She chuckles, all too amused to your liking.

“See? Ain’t so hard to be good, is it?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Rumi has hoisted you in her arms and thrown you over her shoulder and is making her way to your bedroom. Your pants still down the middle of your thighs and ass bared, it’s the most embarrassing ever but you can’t even find words to express it; you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, sticky and embarrassing.

She tosses onto the bed as soon as she is close enough to it.

“Be good and strip for me, baby. Take everything off.”

You hurry to obey, pushing your pants further down and kicking them off your feet before you start working on taking off your shirt. Rumi’s disappeared into the bathroom, so you sit patiently to wait for her, back leaning against the headboard.

When she comes back, Rumi is dressed, and you take the time to admire her beauty. The size of her strong arms obvious through the thin material of her long-sleeved crop top, the delicious expanse of tan skin of her stomach, her tight abs, the curve of her hips— you notice it only now, the thick bulge hidden under her jeans. You look up at her face, surprise written all over your features, and the smile she gives you is playful, she even wiggles her eyebrows at you.

Rumi unbuttons and unzips her pants, freeing the thickness of her strapon from them before climbing on the bed. She sits, legs spread, and beckons you closer with the simple movement of a finger.

“Suck it,” she demands, “get my cock nice and ready to fuck your cunt.”

You crawl over to her and wrap a hand around the hard silicone as soon as it’s within reach, your lips closing around its head. You circle it with your tongue, lick it, and look up at Rumi’s face, the dildo snug in your mouth. She can’t feel it, but she always enjoys when you put on a show for her.

Long gone is your little rebellious act from earlier. All you want is for Rumi to take you here and now, to have her fuck you until you pass out.

As you take more of the silicone cock into your mouth, she puts a hand on your head, and soon enough, you can feel her tight grip in your hair. You’re almost halfway when she tugs and pulls you away from her cock.

“Ass up. Face down. Now.”

You do as she orders, resisting the temptation to look up when you feel the bed dip next to you. You hear her open the drawer of the nightstand, then the sound of the lube bottle being opened. From the loud clang that follows, you know she’s thrown the bottle back in the drawer rather than bother putting it down.

Her fingers are cold when they press against your entrance, slick with thick lube that she spreads over your folds, over your clit, before pushing two fingers inside you. You grip at the sheets, low moan leaving your lips.

“Look at you, being all good for me now,” she comments, her tone teasing. “Taking my fingers so well.” This time, her voice comes from much closer, and you feel her chest pressing against your back. She kisses your neck and shoulders as she starts moving her fingers, slow and deliberate. “You want my cock, baby?”

You whimper at a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers and tighten your grip on the sheet to try and keep yourself anchored, balanced.

“Yes, please! I want your cock in me!”

She pulls out her fingers, and your cunt clenches around the emptiness. You can’t help but moan miserably. She coos above you, amused by your desperation, of course.

She pushes the thick head of the strapon against your hole, but instead of pushing further into you, she guides it up and down your folds, several time, painfully slow, spreading the slickness of your arousal mixed with the lube. You whine and push your hips back, seeking what she is refusing you. A big mistake, and you know it even before both her hands hit your ass, still raw from the spanking she gave you.

“Don’t try that again, baby,” she warns, squeezing the flesh of your in her hands as she presses the dildo against your entrance again. “You gonna be good for me now?”

“I promise I’ll be good! So, please, please fuck me!”

She pushes into you slowly, just the head, then pulls out and repeats the movement, carefully stretching you. She eases more of the strapon inside you with each move, and while you are grateful for how careful she is being, you wish she would just fuck you into the mattress already.

Finally, you feel her hips against your ass, and she pauses for a moment as her hands rest on your waist.

“You ready, baby?”

“I am.”

The pace she sets is fast, the movements of her hips quick, precise and harsh, almost unforgiving. The material of her pants feels rough against the sensitive skin of your ass, and you suspect Rumi of having kept her pants on merely to torture you that way.

Within seconds, Rumi has you panting and moaning.

“So good for me, taking my cock so well.”

She slows her quick pace to focus on deeper, more forceful thrusts. You can’t even form a coherent sentence, or even words, to respond. And when one of her hands leaves your waist, you clench your teeth and brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Instead of spanking you, she is gentle as she places her hand on your ass. She doesn’t leave you time to consider asking her what she is doing that her thumb is pushing against your hole, and she keeps it set firmly in your ass as she quickens the pace again, fucking into your cunt ruthlessly, her hips slapping your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck! Mirko! Please!”

You’re babbling, unsure if the sounds that come out of your mouth are even the ones in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care when all you can feel is your girlfriend fucking you like your lives depends on it. And with each thrust bringing you closer to the edge, you moan, you mewl, you pant, you aren’t sure which, the lewd, wet noises of your pussy overwhelming your senses.

“Look at you, baby,” she croons, “being such a good slut for me, making such pretty noises just for me. So pretty and perfect. And all mine.”

“I’m so close! Please! I wanna come!”

She stills her hips, “then do,” she simply says, punctuating the short sentence with a strong thrust before resuming her quick pace.

It only takes a few more thrusts of her cock and her thumb pushing a little further into your ass for your muscles to clench desperately around her strap as waves of pleasure crash through your body, your limbs quivering from the unadulterated bliss clouding your mind. 

She is gentle as she pulls out, kisses your back as she eases you down onto the mattress and lies down next to you.

You turn your head to look at her, and she is grinning at you as you lay limply on the bed. She caresses your cheek, soft and loving, and shifts closer to kiss you on the nose.

“You did so good, babe,” she whispers, her smile only broadening, “I’m so proud of you.”

Feeling the exhaustion invade your body, you close your eye and focus on enjoying her gentle touch as she runs her fingers along your back and shoulders.

“Let’s get you in the shower in a few minutes, yeah? I’ll have to take care of your ass. I really got carried, sorry ‘bout that.”

You chuckle sleepily at her apology.

“Don’t be sorry, you know I liked it.”

“I do know. I mean, you fucking dripped on my pants, there’s still a spot on my thigh.”

You groan in embarrassment, and you would cover your face with your hands if your muscles weren’t still twitching from your orgasm.

“Just carry my lifeless body to the bathroom.”

“Gimme a break, I’m tired too. I fucking wrecked my hands spanking you so hard, ya know?”

“You really want to compare the state of your hands to my ass?” you mutter, frowning, eyes barely opening.

It’s her turn to chuckle.

“Yeah, okay, no. Just, lemme take a breathe and I’ll take care of my baby.”

[thran-duils]

And Those I Can’t Charm, I Can Kill (P.4)

Title: And Those I Can’t Charm, I Can Kill (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mafia!Tony Stark. Too many fringe gangs were making ties and your father noticed. He reached out to the Stark mob for an alliance, offering up a piece of his territory at first. When Stark told him he had enough land, your father offered up the next best thing: you. He knew Stark needed a wife and what better way to solidify a relationship between the two mafia families? You were not naïve, you knew the life and you were trained with guns and negotiations. Your father had made sure of that. The two of you had seen each other on multiple occasions at mafia get togethers and knew of each other. Stark accepted the transaction but little did he know he was going to get a little hellion handed over to him that would not kiss the ground he walked on. He would grow to love it too. Words: 3,561 Warnings (more WILL be added, I am sure): Eventual smut, power dynamics, sexism, smut, public sex, fingering, dom/sub powerplay, kidnapping, violence, death, knife kink, gun kink, angst with a happy ending

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

You and Tony had stared at each other – you down at him and him up at you. It had felt good, fucking him. You had surpassed the real intimacy of a relationship – something the two of you had never had – straight to physical. It was how you normally did things, but it had just taken longer this time than a one-night stand.

But this was different. This was your husband.

You had a deeper connection now. You were startled out of your desire for this to be continuous.

And suddenly by your own doing, the two of you were apart, you standing yourself and him sitting, and you brushed at your hair, uncomfortable before turning for your clothes just to try to escape this unfamiliar territory. Normally, you would say something witty, grab your clothes, and leave. But there was no leaving him. You slept in the same bed. Even if that bed itself had not been christened by the two of you yet.

Tony was off the couch and came up to grasp your arms, stopping you and you looked up at him.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

The words fell around you. And your breath was short, working yourself up again. Tony saw it too and his thumbs caressed your arms, peering in closer. It was not threatening the way he was acting – comforting more than anything.

“I’m here… I’m here to be with you,” he started slowly, stumbling though. He was a man after all in the mafia, raised with the toxic masculinity that came with it. He was trying to navigate his feelings and be soft with you as well. “I want you to feel safe with me. In all aspects.”

It was intimate. And it was reassuring to know that he was making the effort to move even deeper with it. It was exciting. But you still wanted to be guarded.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you answered. Your eyes shot down and then you said, thinking on your feet, “We are both just naked in this room… standing in front of each other. I want my clothes. In case someone walks in.”

Tony’s eyes shot down and he gave a strangled laugh. “Right.” He let you go.

You gave a half smile before you ducked down and grabbed your bra, doing it up. Tony followed suit, beginning to dress himself back up. And then you grabbed your dress. You pulled it over your head and turned around promptly, “Zip me?”

The complete opposite of what you had asked merely ten minutes ago.

Tony cleared his throat, “Yeah.”

He zipped it up and his hands rested around the base of your neck. You were only suspended for a few moments before you turned around to face him again, your faces close. His slacks were back on, belt done, but his dress shirt half buttoned up, that drew your eyes for a split second.

“This is awkward,” he acknowledged sheepishly.

“Yeah,” you agreed and then cleared your own throat. “Um, let’s exit separately. That would seem normal to everyone else. Don’t want to shock them and all.”

He was amused, giving a little laugh, “Right. Don’t forget your thong though.”

“And there you go being the ass that I know,” you retorted, going to grab it and shimmying into it as he gave another laugh.

<><><>

You saw Bucky and Rhodey watching you come back out, curiosity painted on their faces. They had seen how angry Tony had been taking you back into the room and now that you were coming out alone, that was sure to draw their attention. Shit. Tony should have walked out first. You looked away quickly walking past their table and going back to where your friends were sitting before they could stop you.

Moving through the center of the group, you sat back down, adjusting your dress but did not miss the white-hot stares you were receiving from your circle of friends. You met their gazes and leveled them before giving an expectant shrug.

“Where did you go?” one of them asked.

“Nowhere,” you answered simply. You picked up one of your bottles on the table and began pouring shots. “Let’s drink.”

Another friend answered with a giggle, “She went somewhere with her husband.”

You glowered, stalling in pouring the shots, and asked, “So?”

“Did you finally give it up then? Because you’re being defensive. Oh, look, here he comes.”

Following their gaze, you saw Tony walking out now. He was being as normal as you, no sign of a smirk on his face. But then he did give it away. His gaze did flick over to you and the two of you locked eyes for a moment before he looked away again.

“You totally did,” your same friend crowed.

“If you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to kick you out of the VIP section!” you threatened her.

“Touchy, touchy! Fine, I’ll drop it. It’s done. And so is your honeymoon officially!”

“Ass,” you snapped as you passed the shots out.

<><><>

Tony sat down at the booth and straightened out his suit jacket. “Where are the shots?”

“Well, we took them without you because you were gone for so long,” Natasha said with a twinkle in her eye.

“There’s plenty of alcohol in this bar. I should know. Where’s our bar—”

Someone showed up at the table, dress in the staff uniform and asked, “What’ll it be, Mr. Stark?”

“A round for the table. Bourbon.”

Natasha and Bucky protested. “No, vodka, please.”

“Fine, bourbon and vodka. Just bring two bottles, everyone has their glasses already. Blanton’s and Grey Goose.”

The server nodded, “Of course, Mr. Stark.”

As soon as they walked off, Tony looked around the table again. And they all averted their eyes. Sighing annoyed, he asked – even though he had a good idea already what was going on – , “What is it?”

Clint took the dive for everyone else and tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, “You look… not pissed off.”

“And?” he asked with a sharp edge to his voice. “Do I always look pissed off?”

“Yes,” came the chorus around the table and he frowned, displeased.

Unable to help himself, Bucky chortled, “You fucked,” as Rhodey cracked a wide smile at his statement.

“Be respectful,” Tony snapped at them.

Bucky closed his mouth, biting his cheeks as Tony took a long swig of his drink.

“Respectful? You’re the one that’s been complaining she sleeps turned away from you!” Rhodey said, still laughing lightly. “I was frankly getting tired of hearing about it. This is good news for everyone.”

“You’re welcome then,” Tony muttered to everyone’s continued amusement as the server came back with their bottles. He thanked them and took the bottles, beginning to pour everyone their own respective shots.

“To the King and Queen then,” Natasha proposed, holding up her shot glass.

<><><>

A few weeks later, there was commotion at the front door, and you put your book down before sliding out of the recliner you were in. You could hear Tony; he was angry, ranting. You came into the entrance hall cautiously and found him storming up the stairs. He stopped and was shouting still back at Steve, something about making sure that the car was destroyed and far from the city.

He noticed you were standing there suddenly and that is when you got a full view of his face. He was scraped up.

“Christ, what happened?” you asked him worriedly, coming closer to the bottom of the stairs between him and Steve. Steve took the hint and told Tony he would make sure it happened and turned on his heel to leave.

To you, Tony said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” He began to turn to go up the stairs further.

You followed quickly, “You don’t look fine. Here, let me help.” He started to protest but you were already there, going past him. You stole another glance and saw there were scraps by his eyebrow and upper cheek, bleeding still. “There’s a kit in the guest bathroom. That’s closest. Come on.”

Tony followed you and you told him to sit on the toilet. He did as you said, looking hesitant. You dipped to grab underneath the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. Working quickly, you got the hydrogen peroxide as well and used the cotton balls to wipe at his face. He hissed and you apologized gently, dabbing with care.

“What happened?” you asked again as you wiped at the cuts.

“It doesn’t—”

“Tony.”

He ground his teeth for a few seconds before saying, “I almost got run over.”

You stilled and pulled away to meet his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“One of Weston’s guys.” You knew Weston. He ran an outfit outside the city, smaller but it was influential for keeping the borders secure.

“Weston?” you asked in disbelief. As far as you knew, he did not have any issue with Tony.

“I don’t know. We were working at a site and all of a sudden I heard someone coming in quick and Thor shoved me out of the way.” Your heart clenched and he saw. “He’ll be fine. He got nicked and it sent him spiraling. If it had been one of us, we would have had broken bones. He’s shaken up and bloodied, but he’s gonna be fine.”

“That’s good,” you said dropping the cotton balls into the trash and moving towards the bandaids and antibiotic ointment. “But, did Weston send him?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said honestly. “I don’t think so. The guy is someone who had an issue with me personally. Seems his brother got killed or something in a recent raid. Wanda and Rhodey were interrogating the guy after Steve forced me to come back here in case there were other people gunning for me.”

“That was smart of him,” you said tapping the ointment onto the cuts. “I’m glad he brought you back.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony asked with a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, I would like you to always come back alive if you could manage that for me,” you retorted, opening up a bandaid. You bandaged up the worst of it and added for good measure, “And if you could be more cognizant of your surroundings that would be a good place to start to make sure that happens….”

Turning away from him, you heard him give a light chuckle at your quip. You felt the air shift behind you, and you closed the kit, pushing it back further on the counter.

You made to ignore how close he was and walked towards the door, but he was quicker, grabbing your arm and stilling your movement. His other hand grasped the door, and he threw it closed before turning you around and holding you against it. Staring up at him, you stayed still, waiting for him to make his move.

“I’ll take that into consideration, just for you. I’ll keep my head on a swivel. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a good plan.”

Tony’s lips curled into a smile before he leaned in and you followed his movement, coming in to kiss him softly. He hummed in approval, his hands ghosting up your sides. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you wrapped your arms tight to paw at his ass through his pants. He liked that by the noise he released, and you sucked in at his bottom lip. Pinning your wrists above your head, his lips dragging roughly over yours. You bit at him now in a mock threat, and he chuckled before capturing you in a passionate kiss. Your pelvis ground towards him and your tongue slipped into his mouth, swirling. The two of you were locked in a passionate dance.

Tony groaned, pulling away as you brushed his length through his slacks with your thigh. He turned you around in a fluid motion, keeping your wrists pinned and pressed himself against your back. Your neck was sucked and peppered with eager kisses, him dry humping you. You dragged your teeth across your bottom lip, a wanton whine escaping.

He let go of your wrists and made quick work of pulling your sun dress up and freeing himself from his pants. Working with him, you spread your legs and arched your back, anticipation crawling over your skin. Pulling your underwear aside, he drove up into you, holding tight at your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasped as he picked up speed.

Anyone walking by outside the room would be greeted with loud, pleasured moans and the sound of skin slapping skin with how hard Tony was driving into you. You hardly cared; it was your damn house after all.

The two of you found a slow rhythm to relieve the intensity, a needed break. You rolled your hips, riding him with precision. His hands flexed, one coming up to cup your breast, kneading at it through your dress. He leaned forward enough to suck at your earlobe, whispering filth into your ear before he gave a rough nip.

You pushed back roughly and hissed, “I’m so close. Please.”

Tony’s hand fell from your tit and found its way between your panties and wet pussy. His fingers worked at your clit, and you groaned loudly, begging for him to not stop and he promised you he was going to fuck you good. He was working fast again, his breath coming quick and hot.

“I…I…” you stuttered moments before you clenched, your heat enveloping him tighter.

“Oh, god, that’s it, baby,” Tony praised in a low groan, his fingers faltering on your clit. But he thrusted quicker for a few seconds before he was pulsating. His hand fell to your thigh, fingers digging in as he stilled, emptying completely.

His head rested on your shoulder, the two of you breathing heavy. He found his breath again and laid a soft kiss at your neck.

“Well, that helped my stress,” he breathed.

Leaning back, you turned your head to be able to see him well enough to give him a kiss. Against his lips, you smiled, “Glad I could be of some assistance.”

<><><>

Erick was walking beside you, checking his phone. He suddenly stopped, holding out his arm to stop you as well. “We should go to another store.”

You furrowed your brow and said, “What? Why? I’m done. And they said they would be at the café now for lunch.”

“They’re going to be late.”

Shooting a look across the street, you spotted Bucky inside and slid your eyes back to Erick, looking completely unimpressed. “Nice try. Bucky is already inside.”

Erick swore underneath his breath and you frowned, sensing you were being kept out of the loop about something. You had been surprised when Bucky and Natasha had asked to ride along with you and Erick when they learned where you were going to be going shopping but had told them to come along. They had made it clear they were going somewhere else but would meet back for lunch.

You began walking again and Erick said more firmly, “Y/N, we should find another store to go into.”

Pressing the crosswalk button, you crossed your own arms, your bags bumping up against your middle. You always insisted on carrying some of the bags. Erick was your bodyguard, not your servant.

“Y/N.”

“I heard you. And I’m choosing to ignore you.”

Erick sighed loudly as the light came on to cross and you did so, hearing him follow you despite his protesting. Bucky spotted you through the window and his eyes shot back to Erick, giving him a disappointed glare. It only served to encourage you to move a bit quicker. Upon entering the café, you saw Bucky staring directly at you and Natasha looking at you over her shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be shopping,” Bucky said as you approached the table.

“I’m done. I thought we were having lunch,” you told him, sitting down beside him, placing your bags on the ground. “What’s the hold up?” Natasha was tight lipped as was Bucky as Erick sat down next to Natasha. You exhaled deeply and said in a quieter voice, even though you were alone in the corner, “You can trust me. You know you can. You’re doing a drop off, aren’t you?” Bucky cocked his head and you picked up his coffee and took a sip. “I know Salazar likes to do business in that building. You must need some new toys.”

Natasha and Bucky exchanged a look and for once, you noticed Erick actually looked amused at the fact you had forced yourself into the situation. He knew you were not stupid and he was probably feeling a little sense of pride that they were noticing that as well.

Adjusting in his seat, Bucky admitted in low tones, “Yes. And someone who isn’t gonna be happy about it has people set up inside watching to see who goes in and out.”

“I can do it.”

“It’s dangerous, Y/N,” Erick told you immediately before the other two could respond. His amusement was gone.

Seriously, you asked, “For me? They’re not even to think twice about me walking in. Sure, I’m married to Tony and my dad is a boss. But people really don’t pay attention to me except thinking about getting me on my back.”

Natasha ground her teeth at that, uncomfortable.

“Well, it’s the truth,” you said, shrugging. “They’ll think I’m just going in to look at the back jewelry room. All I care about is shopping anyways, right?” Natasha cocked an eyebrow and you said with a smirk, “Yes. I do know about that too, and I’ve been inside. Problem is I’ll have to actually go up to the room and that guy — Tucker — is a sleazebag.”

“You think I’m gonna let you go alone?” Erick asked.

You patted his arm, “Look at you being chivalrous.”

“Tony would have my balls if I let you around Tucker without me.”

“Wait, we did not even agree to this,” Natasha cut in, holding up her hand.

“Give it to me,” you told her, holding out your hand. “I can carry it in my purse. Go upstairs, get something small from Tucker or act like I was not impressed with the selection, and then come back down a back way to drop it into the chute before circling back and coming back out the front entrance.”

You flexed your fingers after they did not react quick enough. “I have concealed carry if anything goes wrong. And you know Erick is a great protector.”

“I have to ask Tony—” Bucky started to say.

“Bullshit,” you told Bucky. “This needs to get done. I’m assuming it’s time sensitive. And you had an unexpected snag and you have the solution sitting right beside you. Not acting on it is going to make you miss your goddamn window. I have gotten my hands dirty before and involved with this type of shit. It’s nothing new.”

Natasha nodded at Bucky stiffly and he sighed, reaching into his jacket, pulling out a thick bag and handing it to you. You felt it was money and put it into your purse swiftly. It was concealed by the fact it was hidden in a grocery store bag, not see through. Picking the menu up, you quickly scanned it.

“Erick and I both like breakfast sandwiches, his with ham and mine with bacon,” you told them putting the menu back down on the table. “I want an orange juice too. You?”

“Water,” Erick answered before following your movement to stand up.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Hopefully before the food gets here. Mind my bags, please,” you told the pair before striding off and not waiting for their answer.

Tucker was a sweet talker as always, commenting on how nice your jumpsuit looked. His hands trailed along your own and you pulled away naturally, not forcing it. When you politely brushed off his advances, he congratulated you on your recent marriage since he had not seen you since it happened. You bantered back and forth with him about how he was always able to find out the latest gossip. He told you that it was big news that Tony had gotten married; if you did not know it, you were not keeping your ear to the ground at all.

To your surprise, he had something in stock you really wanted. And it was for Tony. A nice new ring and you took it happily. Hopefully if Tony caught wind of this – which he certainly would, you doubted Bucky or Natasha would lie to him – this would soften the blow.

On the way down, you did exactly what you said were you going to do and you dropped the bag off in the chute and came back around. Walking right past the people that you knew were watching for whoever it was that Natasha and Bucky were worried about. They only glanced at you and looked away when they saw the small signature bag of Tucker’s business.

Sliding back into your chair, you placed the bag on the table and said, “It’s done. Also, do you think Tony will like that?”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai @kaylamcd2000 @damntonystarkandhissmile @aditimukul

Fic tags: @patheticallysentimental @suchababie @downeyreads @teenageregression​

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Fast and the Furious (2001)

The Fast and the Furious has a plot that often feels familiar. Some of the performances are only so-so. It’s got plenty of cheese and a teenager’s understanding of what “awesome” means. It’s also fully committed to everything it does, making the likable cast and appealing story the kind you can’t help but sort of fall in love with. Maybe you'll be embarrassed to admit it... maybe not.

Undercover police officer Brian O’Connor (Paul Walker) is investigating a gang of high-profile on-road thieves who are somehow tied to the L.A. street race scene. That territory belongs to Dom Toretto (Vin Diesel) and his crew and the only way to get to know anyone is to impress him. While Brian gets closer to discovering the culprits behind the crime spree, he risks forgetting which of his lives is the real one.

I bet many reading this review remember when The Fast and the Furious arrived in theatres. They look back fondly on the time they saw it with their friends and then promptly ignored the end credits’ warning that “the stunts here were done by professionals, you shouldn’t even attempt this” by doing their best to re-enact the NOs-fuelled street blitzes with their high-school friends in the back seat. Me? I saw this Rob Cohen pic for the first time in 2017. I technically have no nostalgia for it… but I feel as though I do. There’s something about this motion picture and its complete, un-ironic belief that what it’s showing us - the cool cars, the neon lights, the fuel spiraling through the engines, the peeks under the hood, the scantily-clad women drooling over the cars rather than the tank top-wearing drivers - that brings you back to a time that was silly, but that also, in its own way meant something. Or maybe it’s that the cars are so well shot and displayed that you, like Brian, forget who you were before the movie started a little bit.

It’s the mix of everything and everyone working in perfect synch that makes this film successful against all odds. Paul Walker is a charmer. You easily see yourself in his shoes. Similarly, Vin Diesel is surprisingly good in his part. He has a few key moments that immerse you into his character. By the time the film is wrapping up, you don’t know if you want Brian to finish his mission and return to his real life, or keep up with the charade indefinitely. Is that a new story? No. We saw it before in Point Break and despite the well-selected cast, the performances can be a bit rough, the characters lean towards the over-the-top or cartoonish and you can see the finish line way ahead of time. Somehow, that doesn’t matter. You see the flaws, acknowledge them and then admit the film wouldn’t feel right without them. How else can you explain that this undercover cop story gets better with age?

I know you’re eager to see the increasingly explosive actions-oriented sequels but take the time to appreciate the perfect circumstances that made The Fast and the Furious a movie that grabbed the world by storm. When you do, stay all the way to the end of the credits to see an extra scene that ties up the film nicely. (On Blu-ray, April 7, 2018)

[kingsuckjin]

Ruin Him - JJK

> Genre: Jk virgin coworker au, smut  

>Warnings: Jk is a bit subby, he’s a virgin, public sex/ car sex, fingering (f receiving) reader is a dom, kinda soft, corruption kink 

>Rating: 18+ (for smut)

>Synopsis: You get fired and expect it to be a lot worse of a day than it is. your friend the IT guy at the office comes to your rescue.

> Words: 3.5k

“I’m sorry but your subpar work just isn’t cutting it, we’re letting you go. Please gather your things and vacate the premises.” 

That’s what he said. Your boss sat there in his fancy chair, not giving a fuck, seeming proud of himself for his words. He didn’t care that you worked your ass off for the past few years at this job praying all your work paid off in the form of a raise or a promotion just for him to call you a different name the handful of times he ever acknowledged your existence. He didn’t care that you didn’t know how to find a new job on such a short term, he didn’t even give you two weeks’ notice. He probably didn’t even care that because of this you might have to move back in with your parents for a while. You felt like you had failed, but you were more than heartbroken as you stormed through the maze of cubicles towards your own where your desk was, clutching the box that your boss had handed you with somewhat of a smile, you were pissed. The silent stares you knew that you were getting only angered you more, you felt like a circus clown like they wanted a good show. You felt like screaming at them “what are you looking at?!” but then again maybe they pitied you. You probably had mascara running down your tear-soaked cheeks, they probably knew what had happened from the way you were acting.

It didn’t matter, you just wanted out of there, and the looks and silence from them only made you rethink even taking the time to get your things at all. 

You held the box against the side of your desk as you carelessly raked your things into it with teary, blurred vision. You had worked so hard just to toss years worth of being here into a box.

You felt so alone, no one had said a word to you, your mind raced with pain and anger as you took your filled box and began to quickly race towards the elevator. You saw that elevator as the light at the end of this nightmare tunnel, it would shield you from the staring, from the gawking, from the pity. You did your best to hold back the wall of sobs that were threatening to break forth and bring you to your knees as you thought about how someone could be so cold and just fire you as if you weren’t even a person.

In it the midst of your thought and rushing, you could feel your foot catch on something, next thing you were sent falling forward. The bottom of the box fell through and you and your things went crashing to the floor.

You wanted to just lay there, to just give up and hope you melted and soaked into the floor so you could just get away as fast as you could from this embarrassing situation.

“Here” someone muttered. You had been engrossed in your self-pity and stares from the others you hadn’t even realized the one and the only person you ever counted on was here to rescue you.

You pushed yourself off the floor as he concentrated on taking the box on the floor gathering your things and putting them back inside, carefully holding the now broken bottom so they all didn’t fall through. You looked at the man as he pushed his round glasses up onto his face and stood. He took the box under one of his arms and outreached the other arm to you to help you up, which you graciously took.

“Let me walk you to your car, okay?” he announced more so than asked, he was already heading towards the elevator with your things leaving you to run along behind him to catch up.

You had spent so many lunches with this man, he was the only real not standoffish one here, the only one that was easy to talk to and get along with. Maybe because it was because he was young like you, or maybe because he was an outcast at this place like you. Jeon Jungkook worked in IT, he was shy, stuttered when nervous combined with his little habit of pushing his glasses upon his face. He was a bit of a nerd, or that’s what people said around the office, but you had always seen him as nothing more than a friend. 

As you were accompanied out the doors of the building and into the parking lot, you were still holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. The walk to your car was silent, but he seemed to stall with the box in his hand as you stopped next to your car.

“I’m- I’m so sorry.” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed and his voice took on a tone that dripped with guilt and pity for you.

“It’s alright,” you said weakly as you took the box from him, careful to hold the button as he had. “I’m uh-” your voice broke and shook just a bit making you clear your throat and avoid eye contact with the man whom you had spent a lot of lunches with, the man who had just witnessed your near meltdown over being fired.

“For what it’s worth, he’s probably going to fire me too, he never liked either of us. Jokes on him though, I have another job lined up already, better paying too. Hey! I could put in a good word for you! I bet they’d have a spot open, it’s run by an old friend, and I bet I could-”

“Ah Kookie, you don’t have to do that.” you wondered how bad he had felt for you to offer this.

“I know, but what would lunch be without my lunch friend? If I’m switching jobs you might as well come with me, you know? I can give my friend a call tonight. You’re a good and dedicated worker and I’m sure he won’t say no.”

“Really?” you felt your tears and emotions subside for a moment and make way for a little excitement and relief.

“Of course.” he gave a little chuckle as he looked down at the pavement of the parking lot “You did tolerate being friends with the office nerd for the past few years, it’s the least I could do.” 

“I never once thought you were a nerd Kook, they were all just dicks.” you smiled at his smile from your honesty.

“Hey, uh, listen…” he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose once again and ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re not doing anything tonight maybe… would- would you want to- go out for dinner? You know? As a celebration dinner for not- not having to put up with that dictator anymore.” he thumbed towards the building behind him “Y-you don’t have to, it’s-”

The more he went on the more he seemed to stutter and that let you know he was nervous.

“Yeah actually, let’s do that. You still have my number, right?”

He gave you a wide smile as he nodded.

“Is eight okay? You want to pick me up?” you asked as you shoved the box haphazardly into your back seat. 

“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll text you,” he assured you.

You opened the driver’s side door but paused a moment before taking the few steps back over to him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for making all of this a lot better Kook.” 

You didn’t need to turn back around and see his face to know he wore such a cute flustered look, you had seen it before when casually flirting with him, you had always adored it, as a matter of fact, you more than adored it. He was always so shy and quiet and to be honest that was your thing, you often found yourself daydreaming about what he’d be like in bed. Would he let you take control over him? Would he switch into someone more aggressive? Tonight you were determined to find out, you had a bad enough day and decided that the dick of the gentlemanly coworker you had been thirsting after for years might make it all so much better.

He picked you up right at eight, still in his crisp white work shirt and black slacks, freshly off work. His car had the same smell like him. He made small talk the entire drive but you found yourself staring at your knight in shining armor. You liked how the lights from the street poured into the dark car occasionally and lit his smooth skin and glittered off those glasses that seemed too big for his face. You itched to touch him, you felt like you were wasting time already, you decided to test the waters, so when he was mid-sentence you placed a hand just above his knee. He paused a moment and you knew if he was about to reject you or if he asked you to move your hand, you would and simply just have a normal friend dinner with him then you would gladly do that instead, you did like spending time with him after all and you knew he wasn’t the kind of person to hold something like a little crush against you forever.

He didn’t stop you though, he didn’t move your hand, he just ignored it and continued about how he knew the guy who would hopefully soon be your new boss and how cool he was.

You honestly didn’t know where to go from there, dinner was casual, it was sweet, he took you to a nice steak house and paid, saying that you were “currently jobless” in a joking way. You had had so many lunches with him in the break room, you had eaten together before, but this time it felt so different. He seemed to stare more, stutter more, push up his glasses more and that was a sure sign of nervousness. You tried to join in on the conversation and not seem too boring in hopes he would want to do this again with you one day, but you honestly couldn’t get the thought of completely dominating him out of your head. 

You didn’t make another move though, you were too worried he was just too shy or afraid to tell you not to. On your way home, just as you were figuring you were probably better off as friends any way he asked a strange question. 

“Can we pull over and talk? I-I’d like to talk a little if that’s- that’s  alright?” 

“Of course, I’m in no rush to get home.” you replied knowing that this was it, he was about to give you the “we’re only friends” talk.

He said nothing else until he parked in a back empty parking lot of a store that had closed down months ago. Then he turned the car off, and simply just sat there a moment. 

You wondered if you should ask what he wanted to talk about or start apologizing for your inappropriate behavior on the way to dinner when he finally turned to you, not making eye contact.

“I-I-I…” he stopped a moment and sighed, seeming a little aggravated at his stuttering “I wish I didn’t do that.” he then muttered. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.” you urged listening closely.

“I’m bad at this whole thing.” he gave a short sad laugh, more like a short breath than anything “I’m a virgin… is why.” he stared out the windshield as he spoke, seeming regretful once he did it.

“Hm,” you said and gave a little shrug and that’s when he looked at you again, inspecting your nonchalant reaction.

“You probably guessed that, right?” he let his forehead fall on the steering wheel and closed his eyes “why am I so dumb and obvious?” he seemed to ask himself.

“I guessed that you liked it rough in bed, like a lady in the streets but a freak in the bed, you know?” 

He lifted his head and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“First of all, did you just quote an Usher song after I told you I was a virgin? Secondly, I am not whatever you thought I was.” his laugh was more of an amused one this time.

“I did. I did quote Usher. What do you say we find out though how you are in bed, right here, right now? I mean I’m not a virgin, but I’m a car sex virgin so it would be like we’re taking each other’s virginities.” you joked.

His eyes nearly went as wide as his mouth had fallen.

“N-n-now? Here? In my car?”

“Sure” you shrugged “Unless you’re opposed to it.” you shrugged once again.

His reply was a rapid shake of his head.

“Good,” you replied as you made your way over the center console that separated the both of you until your knees sat on both sides of his lap, straddling it. 

You now face to face and he looked you in the eye but seemed so speechless. You didn’t need to hear him stutter to know that he was nervous, his quick breaths were the only noise in the quiet car.

You connected your lips to his and the result was a slow but passionate kiss, no tongue, nothing too fancy. 

When you pulled your head back away from him you decided to ask to make sure this was what he wanted.

“Are you sure you want this?” You didn’t have to wait long for your whispered question to be answered.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. Turns out you- you weren’t the- the only one who has imagined what the other would be like in bed.” you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed down his nervous stuttering “do what you want, how you want it. S-show me what you like”

With his confirmation you reached down to the side of his seat, letting it fall back until he was lying horizontally.

“Let’s have some fun then Kook.” you leaned down over him hiking up your best dress so that your thighs were freer and your purposefully worn sexiest panties were exposed and could grind against his dress pants and hardening bulge in them.

When your lips met with his they were more hungry and less gentle than the first time. Your tongue found his and encouraged it to play with yours.

He seemed less and less nervous as time went by, even placing his hands on your ass and squeezing in rhythm with your still clothed but damp core grinding into his erection under his dress pants. You undoubtedly needed more though, you craved to fluster him more, you wanted him to feel what he was doing to you, how he was absolutely wrecking you without doing anything at all.

“Touch me.” you pried your lips from his to demand.

“I-I- I’ve done that part before but I-I-” you lifted his hand and guided it to tour soaked panties and he began to touch you through the material, letting his fighters over where your clit lie underneath the sticky material.

“So good, you’re doing so good.” you moaned just desperate for his touch to the point where you would take anything from him. He sucked in a breath at your praise. 

“Like that? What if I…” he slipped his hand down the front of your panties, pulling them down just enough to reach inside and once again run his fingers over your slit, but this time with nothing separating you from his touch.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you? I want you so badly.” you took hold of his wrist and guided his fingers until they were inside of you.

“Fuck.” he breathed a shaky breath. “So tight.” 

You bounced a little on his two fingers taking them inside of you.

“Tell me that you dreamed of me taking your cock.” you moaned as you imagined it yourself.

“I have. I have for so long. Please fuck me.” he seemed so desperate and a tingle ran through you at how much you enjoyed the sound of him being so needy for you.

“Beg me Kookie. Beg me to be the first to take your cock, show me how much you want me.” 

“Please please please, please. Be my first, I want it, I want you,” he whispered sweetly and still breathlessly.

“Pull down your pants.” You ordered. his fingers left your pussy you couldn’t help but see the slick sheen of them as he fumbled with his pants. You leaned over into your seat and took the condom in your bag out that you had put there in hopes this all went well.

You opened the wrapper and rolled the latex down over his now exposed cock he had been slightly stroking. You were impressed with his size, he was hiding something pretty big in those dress pants all those years, maybe if you would have known all of this you would have offered to fuck him sooner, but you tried not to dwell on all of that, you just wanted to feel his cock fill you. 

Your hips hovered over him, ready to take him at any second. 

“Wait, we’re in p-public we could get in-”

“Trouble? You want to back out of this now?” you questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.

“No, no, no. I’m doing this.” he was determined, he reached for his glasses to take them off, but you stopped him.

“Leave them, I want you to see my face clearly when I cum for you, on your cock buried inside of me.” with that you lowered yourself down onto him. You didn’t take it too slowly when you finally had him entirely inside of you, you began to rock your hips right away, leaving him moaning and gripping your hips tightly with every movement. 

It was bliss to finally have him in you, to be wrecking him underneath you like this, to hear him cursing with sensitivity under his hard, quick breaths.

You were leaning in so far forward to sporadically kiss him and bite at his lips roughly, that your clit rubbed against his pubic bone with every movement. 

“You like that Jungkook? You like the way you feel inside of this pussy?” You teased.

“Fuck.” he repeated among groans of pleasure with his eyes shut. “What-what id I accidentally-”

“It’s alright, it’s your first time, but try to hang in there and let me play with you just a little longer.” you coached, but you were already riding him so fast, just seconds from your orgasm, you were so out of breath and all you wanted was to let him feel you cum around him. You wanted to ruin him for life, and from the fucked out expression on his face you seemed to be doing your job. 

The nerdy guy from work was balls deep inside of you and you could feel his cock twitching and hard, ready to release any second and finally give you what you had been daydreaming of for so many years. 

His normally neat hair was a mess and his glasses were askew as his fingers dug further into your skin.

“Kook I’m so close.” you panted as you forced your hips to move faster. His jaw was viably clenched as he viably also struggled to hang on. 

He slammed his hips up into you in time and that was what did it.

You gripped his white dress shirt and he let out a long moan. His cock twitching as you felt him release into the condom dragged out your high. You could only watch his furrowed brows as he seemed to hold your hips in place as he came.

Then you were left staring at each other, heavy breathed and not saying anything for a moment

“Y-you know, even if I wasn’t a virgin, that would have p-probably sill been the best sex of my life.” 

You let out a laugh as you climbed off of him and back into your seat, pulling down your dress as you did so.

“Yeah, I have to admit you weren’t too bad, especially for someone who’s never done that before. You have drive and dedication… I guess I should’ve seen that coming since you show that in your job.” you talked through him pulling off the condom, wrapping it in a napkin, and tossing it.

“At least you think so, I was fired today too. Jokes on him though, we both have new jobs now anyway.” he smiled and you let your surprise show on your face “I told you earlier but you didn’t seem to be listening, now I know where your mind was.” he said, making you laugh.

“And that’s where my mind will be from now on, we should do this more since we’re still coworkers, our little secret, yeah?” 

“As if I’d say no to the best sex of my life again.” he started the car and pushed his glasses back up.

“Still the only sex of your life, but I’m kind of glad it’s the only so you think it’s the best.” you snorted with laughter at your own statement.

“Like I said, even if it wasn’t my only and there were so many more before you, I swear it would still be the best.” he gave you a smile. you knew it was cheesy but it was still cute.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Hey so I guess I’m on the needy sub train now...(choo choo motherfuckers and all that) so anyways how do think the whole ‘training to be asked for help’ would translate to our shrinkyclinks boys? Would Steve have to put a LOT of time in or would Bucky be willing sooner? Idk I just thought I’d throw that out there... -☁️ Anon who very worried about your feelings, noble S and who hopes you feel A-ok in no time at all luv u❤️

previous train car w/ Sub Steve

Yes yes yes, shrinkyclinks!

(No worries, I'm feeling fine! School just is The Way It Is sometimes, unfortunately lol)

This isn't so much of a story/particular situation but lots of thoughts together, so apologies if that wasn't what you were looking for:

Compared to shrunkyclunks (re: beefy-Cap!sub!Steve and dom!Bucky) I think shrinkyclinks beefy!sub!Bucky would be much easier to break. And then to train once "broken".

I get that feeling/vibe for the simple reason of Steve having been trained for Years to not ask for help and to not give into what he needs; to muscle through the loneliness and pain and hurt all by himself. By the skin of his teeth.

And Steve is not only from a time where it's not something a man like him, or a man at all, is supposed to feel but is also internally coming from a place of always needing to be the last one served- the last to eat and take a seat at the table. He thinks of and puts himself last. It's in his very nature. So of course he's not going to want to admit to needing help or to feeling shitty.

But, this Bucky on the other hand...

This Bucky is easier to train because while beefy, subby Bucky may have been raised to not give into his subconscious needs and may have been expected by society to not be soft and needy too, he doesn't have quite that Steve Rogers - Cap!Steve - conditioning. Not that his less conditioned feelings are any less important, it's just less hard wired into him.

And shrinkyclinks Steve still battles with his Bucky’s unwillingness to ask for help and to receive it without guilt but, again, it's not the overwhelming beast that Cap!Steve's Modern!Bucky would face when "training".

Also! These two on their own, no comparisons:

In the past I've written shrinkyclinks Bucky as being a sub who didn't really realize he was a sub until it all but literally gut punched him.

His subbiness, that is, when he went into subspace after Steve noticed it in him and did some ~light domming~ so he could discover himself some more.

So... I think their training would go pretty swiftly in some regard.

Like, once Bucky is down, Steve can keep him down in subspace and order him to tell him whenever he needs something - whether it's to get up from kneeling to go pee, to rest his knees, or if his dick is so hard that it hurts and it needs attention or anything he needs at all - and Bucky will trip over himself to make sure he does those things for his dom. Bucky is such a good, melty sub who falls apart so easy. However, if Bucky isn't down and isn't hankering to go down... its trickier.

He can take forever to finally get what he wants out through his teeth.

I think how Steve gets him there, to approaching him with his needs and wants unprompted, is through time and practice. Practice with how Steve makes sure to give him his full attention when Bucky admits to needing something or needing help. He looks at him, turns his full body towards him. He makes sure to uncross his arms, leave himself open to his sub. He thanks him for telling him, hugging him if Bucky will let him. And afterwards, so long as it's something Steve can do something to fix right then and there, he does it. And slowly but surely, with time, they get there.

Bucky gets to the point of walking in through their door after a hard day and finding Steve, calling out to him first, gently, admitting that he needs his dom. Stripping off his jacket and boots, metaphorical or real if it's the winter. And when Steve acknowledges him after he speaks - always telling him to come closer because in that kind of mindset Bucky needs to hear it, he needs to hear he's wanted - the big brunette drops to his knees and crawls to him. Nuzzling and leaning into him, his atmosphere, to get as close as he can to him. Saying it again because now that he finds himself able to say he needs help and ask for that help he kind of gets stuck in a loop of saying it again and again. Wallowing in the well deserved release.

Thank you for the ask!! <3

[jumin-deserves-better]

👏 MM fandom, I really want to talk about this 👏

《 Big rant ahead!》

I am damn sure most part of the mystic messenger fandom perceives Jumin like this 🚶‍♀️:

But whatever....

Let's get into the real matter that I wanted to say to the fandom in general.

The prejudice we, Jumin Han fans have to face, is a LOT ! . I mean, I am not even exaggerating, it is a LOT , LOT 👁👄👁

I am tired of it seriously, and as a Jumin fan, I want to justify some things, the statements and judgy things that I have to see on a daily basis 🤐, so here it goes....

•"Jumin is a manipulative & an abusive person who doesn't even care about MC's well being, what a jerk! " ( just to be clear here, this was in my asks, which I don't want to post, she was a 'someone' fan, and started saying reasons why that someone is much better than my fav, I don't tolerate this attitude ) So, this person was okay with 'someone' who treated them like a pain in the ass for 'protecting' them, totally covered it up by saying he was just being a 'tsundere', and gave him a free pass because he had a 'tragic past' and has much bigger problems than my fav ( when did people start measuring problems haha ? ) . I have told this a million times, but I will say it again,JUMIN ISN'T AN ABUSER , he does care about MC's well being and why do you think he makes MC to stay with him, for her safety. I know my man has problems and I can deal with it , so leave my man alone 👀

( ⚠️ no hate towards 'someone' fans, as long as you recognize his flaws, I wouldn't mind. I am talking about the toxic ones who love to show that their 'someone' is a much better choice , and others are not , by twisting some of their actions into something vile ⚠️ )

•"Omg, Jumin is so creepy, he kidnapped me, he is a borderline YANDERE and is not leaving me alone, I really want to go back to the apartment"....um, logically speaking, MC goes to his penthouse on her OWN ACCORD,not because Jumin invited her and his penthouse is much safer when compared to that apartment. Like, imagine living in a stranger's house knowing nothing about your safety, if I were MC ,I wouldn't mind staying at Jumin's penthouse , until the whole 'unknown hacker' thing is resolved, and you may say that he himself is a stranger to MC, but he starts caring for you as soon as you get his attention , he never lays a finger on you unless you want to, so he seems to be safe for me . If you really wanted to go to the apartment, then go ahead, say all the rude things u want to, a surprise will be waiting for u there, which you claimed to be 'safe', so Chile, anyways-

• " Jumin is a bad boss, jaehee's route says it all 💀, he made her cut her hair, over worked her. That guy is a soul less demon who doesn't care about his employees welfare "....alright.., the classic excuse, I see, Jaehee fans, u guys get a free pass for this, he was a jerk in that route, but calling him a bad boss? Hmm....I don't think I have ever seen a boss who wouldn't mind seeing their assistant shitting on them , but he leaves Jaehee to do that. That hair cut part pissed me off, but he only did this, with the aim to protect her from his father. Jaehee could have communicated her difficulties before hand, instead of not doing her work properly (with regards to jaehee's route) , there is always a option called 'resignation', u knw, jaehee ^^ moreover , he did not under pay her at all, she was a well paid employee, he even a gives a vacation for her in his route, what boss would do that? . And, for your kind information, no one in the whole RFA, not even MC, were concerned about jumin when he took seven's car and went on for a ride eventhough he doesn't even knw how to drive, like isn't this is a warning sign? . He himself had a hard time in jaehee's route, so just like how jaehee stans understand her part of the story, I understood Jumin's part of the story despite playing jaehee's route BEFORE Jumin's route.

• "Jumin han fans seems to love abuse, what the hell is wrong with them?!" As a person who had an abusive friendship , I can totally confirm, that, he is a bit controlling, but not ABUSIVE , please stop throwing the word abuse just like that , i have already seen a number of fans victim blaming.

• "U like Jumin Han from Mystic messenger ? Then, you must have daddy issues 💫?! haha...". I have a healthy relationship with my dad, who is my role model and admire him a lot so I don't think you can judge me just because i love a guy who looks dominant to you 👀

• "Oh wow, u love Jumin, that means you are into kinky stuff ?" 😐 again, People with kink, I don't have anything against you, you enjoy ur thing! It's just that I don't like it when some people generalize other fans.

I did miss a statement, we all know the infamous " 50 shades of Jumin Han" duh....🥴

I sometimes feel uncomfortable to even say that my fav character is Jumin Han, cuz all the replies would be like, "OMG! DADDY, 50 SHADES OF JUMIN". I have to say this, if you are a fan of Jumin only because of that infamous BE2 and not because of his character, u r not even a fan of Jumin, I am sorry if I offended any fans of that end but the fact that some of us are glorifying it too much pains me.

This is how Jumin really is to us, (i. e, real fans of Jumin), whether u believe it or not :

• He had a hard time connecting with people which in turns made him look unempathetic and selfish because of his familial issues.

• He yearns for someone who can understand and love him just the way he is , I mean ,what do you expect? his 'friends' doesn't even give a shit about him, his first love & his best friend, has 'gone' far away. This is the biggest reason he even clings to you like anything.

• He definitely isn't a daddy dom material, he is that soft loyal hubby type who gets very serious when it comes to work. Actually he is like a mirror, he gives back to you, what you give it to him, be it love , lust ( in context with his BE2 ) or whatever it might be

• He literally begs MC to stay with him at one point, only because he thinks that she can understand him much better than his 'friends', or his cat, Elizabeth the 3rd.

• Jumin isn't perfect , so obviously he made a number of mistakes too..especially in jaehee's route . He has done some good and bad deeds and I acknowledge both as it is 💯

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Jumin wants love and he deserves all the love just like other characters and Please stop generalizing all the fans , even if you hate that character, it's always better to ignore it rather than hating on it .

Fin !

Thank you for reading this, it means a lot to me 💕

Sincerely, from a Jumin Han fan 💜

[imagineaworlds]

I Love You (Part Forty-Eight) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of Dom/sub relationship. I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed something.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 10,833

Timeline: A week after part forty-seven.

I drove us home that night when Hotch and Prentiss came home. Hotch was in the passenger’s seat, still holding baby Emily, staring down at her with a bright smile and cooing at her every so often. She kicked around and grabbed at the air in a futile attempt to reach him until he gave in and moved her up his chest so that she could grab at his beard. Lucky. I wanted to be the one to do that. The thought only made me chuckle, though, and move one of my hands towards him so that I could brush my fingers through his hair.

I think that during that drive, I somewhat came to terms with the fact that Prentiss was still alive. I mean… I was trying to be understanding, but at least my mind had wrapped around it, and now all that there was left to do was to move on from the slight anger and betrayal I felt coursing through me. Actually, the first thing we had to sort out were the names. It was too complicated to have Emily and Emily. Prentiss and baby Emily. Especially in the future, I could foresee it becoming a problem and leading to a handful of instances of miscommunication.

So, as we were pulling into the driveway, parking the car just next to Jessica’s, I asked Hotch how he felt about us addressing our daughter by her middle name, Scarlet. At least that way she was still named after Emily, whom we both adored and Hotch risked everything for—including betraying my trust, which was ballsy of him.

Hotch gave her an Eskimo kiss. “Scarlet…” She giggled. “It sounds like a good plan.”

When we headed inside, we saw Jack playing a videogame on his tablet while Jessica was reading a book. They acknowledged our entrance—Jack hardly looked up to even see that his dad was home, so I snuck up behind him and stole the game away from him playfully, holding it above my head so that he had to turn to face us while reaching for it. Jack did as I expected. Once he was sitting on his knees on the couch, making a move for the tablet, he saw his dad. Jack hesitated for a moment. Then, when reality set in, he forgot about the game altogether, and he scrambled to his feet and ran over to Hotch while cheering. Hotch leaned down to catch his son in a hug, careful not to squish Scarlet.

“I missed you so much, buddy.”

I set Jack’s tablet down so that I could sneak Scarlet out of Hotch’s arms. Once she was resting against me, Hotch immediately wrapped his arms around Jack and lifted him up off the ground, squeezing him as tightly as he could. Jack returned the favor. I missed seeing them hug like that—I mean, a real, true, solid Superman hug where both of them were straining and wanted nothing more than to just hold each other until the end of time.

“Are you back for real, for real?” Jack asking warily.

Hotch nodded against him while letting out a choked back sob with a laugh. “Yeah, buddy. I’m back for real.”

“Good,” Jack responded quickly. Hotch kissed Jack’s cheek as hard as he could. “Ew— Dad, your beard!” He wiggled out of Hotch’s arms to escape the scratch feel of his father’s facial hair. “I don’t like it!” Jack rubbed his cheeks clean with his palms.

Hotch laughed again. “I know, I know.”

“Are you thinking about shaving it?” Jessica asked playfully from the couch.

“In a few days.”

“Or longer,” I said. He looked at me and winked.

“Thank you for everything, Jess.” Hotch leaned forward to hug her after she stood. “I know I already owe you a thousand times over, but we can just add this to the long list.”

Jessica shook her head. “There’s no list; and you don’t owe me. Promise.” She leaned in to kiss Jack’s head. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

As she headed to the door, Hotch and I whispered, “See ya.” She collected her things and opened the door. “Thanks again,” we jinxed. She smiled politely at us and headed out.

Jack jumped on the couch and grabbed his tablet again, already bored with the idea of having his dad back. I rolled my eyes. Hotch didn’t seem to mind, though, because at least it felt normal, and it meant that Jack had no clue what drama was brewing between his parents, and that was really all that mattered. We tried to shelter him as much as possible. Some would say it wasn’t good to coddle him as much as we did, but then again, considering everything he had been through, and he was only seven, it was fair of us to want to protect him from everything—including ourselves.

Hotch made a gesture, asking if he could hold Scarlet again, so I gave in, gently handing her back, making sure that she wouldn’t wake up. His smile brightened. As she yawned and stretched, he giggled quietly and sat down next to Jack, who rested his head against his dad’s side. I sighed and sat, too. Hotch, without thinking, kissed my cheek. For a second, I forgot that I was mad at him at all, and I melted, letting my eyes flutter shut, and I relaxed into his touch. I could feel him smiling.

Then, hours seemed to pass. By the time it turned nine, Jack’s tablet slipped out of his hands as he fell asleep against his dad’s side, and Scarlet was already long gone on his chest. She was so tiny compared to him. She wasn’t even curled up, and yet she still only took up about half of his stomach. And then she would squirm to curl up and suck on her thumb while she was sleeping. I couldn’t believe how freaking small and adorable she was, and how she felt so relaxed when she was with him over everyone else. She was always a menace when Morgan, Jessica, or I would try to hold her. But with Hotch, she was just so… adorable… The perfect baby.

Eventually, Hotch ended up asking if we could talk about it—Not Scarlet’s name, but the fact that he left us in the first place. I didn’t understand why he wanted to rush this. We were in a good mood now, and I had actually managed to forget about some of the pain he caused just because I was watching him hold our kids and I was so relieved to be with him again. Why did he want to do this?

But then he said something that gave me cause for pause. “I was scared.” It made me look at him and hold him tighter. “When we found out that you were pregnant, I was- I was so excited. We always talked about having kids, and when it was finally happening, I was so relieved. It felt like all the pieces of our life were coming together, and I kind of just wanted to fast forward to the part where I would get to hold our little girl in my arms…” He looked down at Scarlet and wiped his large thumb over her tiny cheek. “But then she came, and I was holding her in my arms, and I suddenly realized just how scared I was.”

“Why were you scared?”

I didn’t understand how it was that Aaron Christopher Hotchner, of all people, could have been scared of a baby—especially considering the fact that it wasn’t even his first kid. He had experience. He knew what he was doing. But I didn’t know, which should have made me the scared one; yet I never was because I knew that I had him, and that we would navigate it together. What could have possibly scared him?

“The last time I started a family with someone, it fell apart.” Oh. “And I lost everything.” Oh… “I was terrified of losing you, Jack, and Scarlet because of decisions I made. I lost Haley and Jack because of work because it was important to her that I was always around and always available to cater to her needs, but I just couldn’t be; so she left. Honesty is so important to you, Y/N. You value that more than anything in the world. In our relationship, you’ve begged me a thousand times to be honest with you, and with most things, I’ve tried, but I couldn’t tell you the truth about Prentiss, and it was killing me to keep that from you. So, I was suddenly terrified of losing this,” he gestured to the way we were all laying on him, “because I couldn’t tell you the truth. So, instead of actively lying to you, I decided to leave. I ran like a coward, and I stayed away until I was sure that I couldn’t keep the lie from you anymore.” He kissed my forehead again, but this time, he didn’t pull away, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

I reached up to cup my palm around his cheek. “It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not. And I swear that I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

I looked up at him, gently maneuvering my head so that I didn’t hurt him as he pulled away from me. I swiped my thumb over his mole on his cheek. “We’re going to be okay. It’ll take time, but we’re going to be okay.”

“I can see it in your face, you know.”

I paused. “What?”

“The anger. The hate. The disappointment. I know that I fucked up, Y/N— and you can tell me a thousand and one times that you forgive me, or that we’ll move past it, or that if we just ignore it long enough we can pretend it never happened… But I see it in your face, Y/N. You’ve made me promise to always tell you the truth, and I just… I keep fucking up, and there aren’t enough ways for me to say that I’m sorry. I’m going to spend the rest of my life praying that you don’t leave me like Haley did because of this. The unfortunate truth, though, is that as long as I can see it in your face, I’ll never be sure…”

“Aaron Christopher Hotchner, you listen to me right now. I don’t forgive you.” I shook my head insistently. “I don’t.” I stopped to stare into his eyes again. “And I don’t know if I ever will. But here’s the difference between me and Haley. She couldn’t forgive you, and she wasn’t mature enough to just… talk it out and fix it. But I’m not going to let that happen to us. I’m not. I told you a long time ago that I would always fight for you, and I still mean that. It’s going to take me a long time to get over this, to not feel the sting of betrayal every time I look at you or think about Prentiss or hold our daughter in my arms—but the thing about time, Hotch, is that it heals wounds. Eventually, this’ll pass, and I won’t be so disappointed. Until then, though, you’re just going to have to trust that I’m not going anywhere, and you’re going to have to be ready when I want to talk about this and talk about all the lies when I’m ready. There’s going to be a day when I’ve come to terms with this, and I’m going to ask you to just lay out the rest of the lies and the secrets so that we can just get them out of the way and move on, so that we can go back to who we were. Don’t you miss that, Aaron? Being us? Traveling the country together, working random cases, looking into each other’s eyes and just falling in love over and over again. I know I do. So, the best thing we can do is just work towards being those people again. It’s going to take everything we have individually and together, but I know in my heart that we can do it if we just try. Agreed?” He nodded silently. “Then, stop worrying about me leaving, and worry about making it up to me and helping us move on.”

He removed his hold on Scarlet, letting her just rest against his chest so that he could reach for my face and hold me between his palms. “How did I get so lucky?” I didn’t say anything. “How did I manage to convince the one person in the world that I love most to love me and not run away from me?”

“You didn’t have to convince me, Aaron. You never have. I fell in love with you because I see who you are and who you can be, and I am… astonished. I fell in love with you because the feel of your touch makes my knees weak and my heart race. Why would I give all of this up just because you were an idiot?”

He chuckled. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah. You did. And you’re going to keep hearing it for a while, so get used to it.”

He leaned in and kissed me gently. “I will.”

----

After that night, Hotch took off a few days to be with the family. We ended up falling asleep on the couch or in the nursery every night while holding Scarlet and Jack. It was… a process getting used to calling her Scarlet and not Emily, but it almost felt necessary now that Prentiss was back. We weren’t going to change Scarlet’s legal name or anything because I still stood by my decision to name our daughter after Prentiss, but we also knew that it would get too confusing to keep calling both of them Emily all the time. Besides, Scarlet was still a beautiful name, and I thought it fit our daughter perfectly. It didn’t matter what her name or nickname was because she was still ours and she was still perfect in every single way.

Hotch seemed to catch onto the habit faster than I did, though, probably because he had been away for so long that the name Emily hadn’t stuck in his mind yet in relation to our daughter. When we called while he was away, we’d talk about her, but he’d mostly dance around her name. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it, but knowing what I knew now, I realized that it was because he also felt awkward calling her Emily when he knew that Emily Prentiss was still out there, waiting to come home.

Explaining it to Jack was somewhat complicated. We weren’t going to force him to call her Scarlet, of course. Emily was still his sister, and that was what he knew. But we didn’t want him to get confused when we would start calling her Scarlet all the time. He said he understood, and he was going to try, but, as expected, he kept forgetting, and we really didn’t blame him. It was going to be a one step at a time kind of thing with him, and we were fine taking it at his pace. He was still young, and the decision was his, honestly. Mostly, tough, I think he was simply happy to have his dad back. He couldn’t care less about Emily or Scarlet or whatever. He had never been away from his dad that long, even with Foyet.

Three months was a long time to be away from our family. A lot had changed at work— especially my temporary promotion— more had changed around the house. Jack was doing really well in school and in soccer, he hardly even needed my help with homework anymore. And Scarlet was trying to walk. She could get up on her feet, and I was absolutely terrified that Hotch was going to miss that first step, but by some miracle, she had held out until he walked through that door for the first time in months. He lifted her out of her crib, held and kissed her while she giggled and kicked at him, and he refused to let her go for the longest time. Eventually, she started getting fussy, so we sat down with her on the floor while she played with her toys. That was when she stood up, grabbed her stuffed animal elephant, then slowly waddled over to Hotch before dropping it in his lap and falling over. He caught her and the two of us were entirely shell shocked. It was like she knew we were waiting for us to be together again to see that little miracle together. Somehow, she made sure to save that special moment for the time when the two of us could witness it side by side.

Besides that, though, there was still so much he missed. I mean, the little things that never seemed important out of context or before the fact, but when they happened… I wished that Hotch was there for all of them. Hell, I even wished that he were there for the nights when Scarlet was sick that Hotch was there just to help out or have those little moments. It sounded stupid, but it was a part of watching and helping Scarlet grow up. He had already missed out on that, and I wasn’t sure when, or if, he could ever make up for it.

On Thursday afternoon, though, he finally had a chance to make that first step towards getting back into the mindset of being the hands on, caring parent he always was. We had a parent/teacher conference set up with Jack’s school to check in on how he was doing. Thursday was the only available day that we could manage to fit into all of the teachers’ schedules. Hotch had been hoping to get back to work by Thursday, to talk with Strauss about getting back into the field and transitioning the unit chief power back over to himself because I really didn’t want to keep it. It was nice while I had it, but it wasn’t my place. Hotch was the real leader of our team, and everyone knew it, even Strauss. But we had to postpone his return just by a few hours so that we could go handle this first.

Really, we just had to meet with Jack’s home room teacher the most. She was the central part of Jack’s education, and she knew the most about how he was doing in school. That being said, there was still his gym teacher, art teacher, and music teacher to meet with, though, of course, those meetings weren’t necessarily going to be that long. Actually, they only took about ten minutes each— if that. But the meeting with his home room teacher, Mrs. McKee, was a little longer than just that, which was expected.

She handed both me and Hotch copies of Jack’s current report card and some of his best homework assignments (all of which I helped with, but I wasn’t about to admit that). “Jack’s doing really well, I’m pleased to say.” She smiled at us as we looked everything over. “He’s reading a lot, writing more than expected, he’s drawing. He’s incredibly good at drawing. Sometimes he’ll get distracted and start doodling during class, but he’ll always stop when I ask him to. He’s extremely creative.”

That was good. Truth be told, I was always worried about Jack. Especially since Haley, I wasn’t sure how Jack was going to turn out. I was terrified that he’d get quiet, shy, mundane, and stagnant. Despite how hard he worked on homework at home, and he went above and beyond at soccer, I never knew how things were going at school, which was where he spent most of his time. Hearing from his teacher that things were actually alright was a huge relief. The fact that he was drawing and was excited about learning, I was so happy. It honestly meant that I hadn’t fucked anything up while Hotch was gone. That might have been extremely selfish of me to think, but I couldn’t help myself. It petrified me to think that I fucked up our son… But I didn’t. At least, not yet. There was still a lifetime to make mistakes— though I prayed I never would.

“As for socially, Jack gets along with the other kids, he doesn’t argue with his teachers, and he participates in class as much as possible. Truthfully, Jack’s one of my best students, but don’t tell the other parents,” Mrs. McKee laughed. We chuckled with her, too. “I’m impressed by Jack, but I’m also worried.” Our smiles fell. I grabbed Hotch’s hand. “Jack’s been getting picked on by another kid named Paul—”

“Paul Cain?” I questioned, my brow raising. Mrs. McKee nodded. “I don’t understand.” I shook my head in confusion, looking to the side at Hotch. “Paul’s been coming over for playdates over the past few weeks. Jack said that they were friends.”

“How long has this been going on?” Hotch inquired.

“About a month,” the teacher replied.

“I don’t…” I hesitated.

I had no clue. Jack seemed so happy when Paul was around, and it seemed like Paul was interested in being Jack’s friend. Why would Paul be picking on Jack this whole time and they’d keep acting like they were friends while around me? Why would Jack want to hang out with his bully? This made no sense. Not to mention, how did I not see it and profile it? I mean, that was my fucking job, right, and I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.

“The good news is,” Mrs. McKee continued, “I’ve separated them, and I’ve talked to Paul’s parents, too. It seems like keeping them apart has helped, and I’m keeping a close eye on it. I’m just worried that Jack might be letting Paul bully him outside of school. Why? I’m… I’m not sure. I was sort of hoping you guys would be able to find out.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”

Hotch agreed. “We’ll have to talk with him. Will you let us know if anything changes?”

Mrs. McKee nodded. “As soon as there’s any kind of update—good or bad—I’ll be sure to call you two.”

“Thank you so much.”

Hotch and I stood. As we collected all of Jack’s papers up, Hotch asked if we could keep them to look over and hang up on the fridge, to which Mrs. McKee agreed to with a bright smile, and then Hotch took my hand. We thanked her again and then headed out so that we could finally drive to work. Though, I stopped when we stepped outside of the school.

I sighed and took a slow seat onto the bench nearby. Hotch hesitated a moment before sitting next to me. On one hand, Jack was doing really well in school. He clearly had an interest in learning, and he was creative, and the reading that Hotch had been doing with him at home since getting back was making a difference already. On the other hand, someone was bullying my son. After everything we had been through, I didn’t need to add bullying to the list of things wrong with Jack’s childhood. Maybe it was time to put him back into therapy? We thought that after about three years since Haley’s death, Jack had moved on enough that he didn’t need consistent counseling. In fact, it seemed like receiving therapy for that fateful day was only causing Jack to relive it over and over again, whereas he had forgotten most of the bad since leaving therapy. But if he was getting bullied… Maybe he just needed someone to talk to. I thought that I could be that person for him, but maybe he was just too scared to come forward about it.

Did I really fail that much as a mother? Did my son feel like he couldn’t come to me about something going wrong in his life? Was there more going on than just the bullying? How about the good news? How much had I missed out on because Jack just didn’t know how to communicate with me? But I should have known, anyhow. We were profilers. The whole time Hotch was gone, I never once noticed any changes in Jack’s behavior. We would notice if something were bothering our son, right; so how the hell did we miss this?

“He’s doing the superhero thing,” Hotch finally whispered while nudging my shoulder with his playfully. I cocked a brow as I looked at him. “He’s trying to be the bigger person by making friends with the bad guy.”

“Doesn’t the superhero usually kill the bad guy?”

“Well, okay… We’ll call him Peter Parker and Paul Cain can be Harry Osborn.”

I chuckled. “Sure.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him tonight, see if I can pry anything out of him, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Is it bad that I want to hurt a seven year old just because he hurt our son?”

This time, Hotch chuckled. “As long as you don’t actually do it.”

I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. We interlocked our fingers again as I snuggled against him as close as I could. It probably wasn’t the time to reminisce, but I truly did miss just sitting with him, feeling how warm his body was, listening to his steady breathing and his constant heartbeat in his chest. It felt like home. And then, like usual, his phone started ringing. I rolled my eyes and sat up.

“JJ, what is it?” he asked after answering it. “Shit…” He sighed. “Okay. Thanks for the heads up. We’ll be in soon.” He hung up. After a moment of sitting in his own thoughts, he draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close again. “Strauss is looking for us. She wants to talk about the Senate’s meeting.”

I hid my face against him to keep my worry from him. Since Doyle, I had been taking a lot of heat from a Senate council that had been investigating our unit because of me. Because of the decisions that I made while appointed as Unit Chief, the entire team was taking a hit, and they all had to come up with answers and excuses on my behalf. When we first got word about the investigation, I offered to quit. I was the one who knew the risks involved with my decisions, I knew that I would have to answer for what happened, but I never thought in a million years that the team would be questioned, too. I wanted to make it easy. I knew that if I just left quietly, the Senate council would leave us alone, and things for the BAU could return to normal. I just wanted normalcy again. Or at least some reminiscence of it since we technically never had any kind of normalcy in our lives.

“We’ll face this and Jack the same way we face everything… together.” He kissed the top of my head.

I was so scared that I was going to get fired. Back when I offered to quit, Hotch begged me not to, just as he always did, and so he helped me deal with taking the heat from the aftermath of the Doyle case. But now it was out of my hands. Someone telling me that I was going to lose the BAU vs leaving it of my own volition was absolutely terrifying.

“You think the CIA will take me?” I joked. Hotch didn’t laugh. “Sorry…” I just thought that the parallel between us and my parents would be funny to him, but it turned out that it wasn’t. “That was in bad taste.”

When his phone buzzed again in his pocket, this time with a text, Hotch gently shimmied me off of him so that he could stand up. He spun on his heels so that he was facing me. “Let’s do it.” He held his hand out, and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. “And I’d rather you go to the NSA.” He smiled.

I hit his arm playfully. “I’d rather die.”

“Don’t be hyperbolic, Agent Hotchner,” he whispered while leaning in.

“Yes, Sir…” I hardly got the words out before kissing him desperately.

----

Everyone watched us as we walked by their desks to head towards Strauss’s office, yet no one said anything. Even Rossi came out of his office on the balcony to eye us. Hotch and I kept moving, though, our heads held high, a fair distance between us so that we were still somewhat obeying our office rules about our relationship—not that anybody would’ve cared by this point. The rules were initially created when we first started dating, but now we were four months into being together… No one would’ve cared if we held hands casually while walking through the bullpen. Still, there was some amount of professionalism that Hotch liked to keep while we were in Quantico, and that was to maintain respect and ensure that everyone’s focus stayed on the cases instead of gossiping about us. Maybe one day that would change, though.

When we arrived at Strauss’s office, I knocked on her door and waited for her invitation to enter. After hearing it, I pushed the door open and stepped in. Strauss was sitting at her desk, removing her reading glasses so that she could look up at me, and she was sitting back in her chair to get more comfortable. She asked me where Hotch was, and I told her that he was waiting just outside in the hallway. She then said she wanted to speak with us at the same time.

I beckoned Hotch in, to which he looked shocked, which I didn’t blame him for. Usually, Strauss liked to meet with us one-on-one because it was a scare tactic, and it was easier for her to gain the upper hand in the conversation, but not this time. I felt like I should have been more wary than I was.

Hotch and I stood directly in front of her, the door closed behind us, a few feet of distance between us, our hands at our sides, our gazes glued to her. I hadn’t been much of a rebel back in high school, but Hotch sure was, so I wondered if this was what it felt like to be sent to the principal’s office. Not that I would ever ask him that. He hated talking about his past and the shitty decision he made back then when he was just acting out because his father was abusive, and his mother was absent. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. At least he was raising Jack and Scarlet the exact opposite to ensure that they had the best childhoods and lives imaginable. It was just another thing I loved about him and his maturity.

“The Senate Committee concluded their investigation today,” Strauss began.

I felt my stomach churn. More than anything, I just wanted to reach for Hotch and hold on for dear life, praying that he wouldn’t let me fall over if I passed out or threw up everywhere. But I couldn’t. At least not in front of Strauss, the one person who tried to ruin our careers after she found out that we were dating. Even though she had come around since then, and she was deterred by the fact that Cody loved us and told her that our relationship wasn’t enough reason to fire us—especially since we got married— Despite all of that, Strauss and I still didn’t get along. I doubt that we ever would.

“They’ve decided that the BAU will remain intact and untouched.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“But they want Agent Greenaway demoted and Agent Hotchner reinstated as the Unit Chief.”

“I’m not fired?” I questioned.

“Not yet.”

I looked at Hotch, both of us smiling, reassured by how the situation turned out.

“However, I’m quietly suspending the two of you for another three days—at least.”

My smile dropped and I immediately turned to glare at her. “What? Why? I thought they cleared us—”

“They did.” She threw her hands up defensively. “But this is the only way I can make sure that you stay home and just spend time with your family, and not think about work.” My jaw dropped. “After everything, I think the longer you guys have to get your house in order, the better agents you’ll be out in the field.” My jaw dropped even further. “But if I find out that you’re still working during the three days, I’m going to keep adding time off. Understood?”

For once in her life, Section Chief Erin Strauss was actually trying to be helpful. She was looking out for us. For once in my life, I felt myself actually relax around her and smile in her direction.

She ignored my politeness by turning back to her work—faking that she didn’t actually appreciate our gratefulness. “I’ll see you two in three days. Get out of here.”

We knew that she meant it playfully, yet we still weren’t going to stick around long enough to argue it. She had been incredibly kind giving us this offer, and there was really no point in fighting it, so Hotch opened her office door for me, and we both hurried out into the hall.

“What the hell just happened?” I inquired, baffled.

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

I smiled. “Three days.”

He was still in shock. “Three days.”

I cupped his chin with my fingers to make him look at me and snap him out of his trance. “Let’s go home.”

He smiled. “I love you.” He tried to lean in for a kiss, but I playfully dodged him and started shuffling down the hallway to head back towards the BAU. “Brat,” I heard him mumble under his breath before following me.

As we headed through the bullpen, leaving the way we came, no one was watching us this time around. Rossi had JJ in his office, the two of them chatting behind closed doors, and Morgan was gone to probably gossip with Garcia in her office. So, Hotch and I kept walking.

“Hey. Where are you guys headed?” Prentiss questioned, hurrying over before we could push past the glass doors.

We stopped and turned to face her. I smiled. “Strauss suspended us for three days.”

Her face fell. “What? Why? I thought everything was squared away with the—”

“She’s giving us time to be with our family.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile. “Good. I’m glad.” We both nodded at her. “So, then, what’s wrong with Jack?” I cocked a brow at her. “I mean, you guys were at his parent/teacher conference this morning, and now you don’t look too excited to get back to him. So, what gives?”

Hotch licked his lips to hide a smirk. We didn’t like to be profiled, but when it happened by accident, it was always impressive. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t easy to profile—I knew that better than anyone—but Prentiss caught it almost immediately. Nine months away couldn’t change her. She knew us like the back of her hand because we were family. Family knows when something was wrong. That was how I knew something was first wrong with the Doyle case and her leaving. That was why she was our family.

“There’s a kid in his class who’s being mean to him,” Hotch answered. “And Jack’s solution is to befriend him.”

Prentiss laughed, “Aw.” I smiled and chuckled with her. I missed her laugh. It wasn’t often that she cracked a smile, the same way Hotch hardly ever did either, but when they smiled, it was like the whole world lit up. “That’s the cutest… and saddest thing I’ve ever heard. What are you going to do?”

“We, um, haven’t figured that part out yet,” I said.

Hotch nodded an agreement. “He didn’t come to us about it, and we don’t want to pressure him into fessing up to keeping secrets from us—”

“He didn’t tell you this was happening?” Prentiss asked with furrowed brows. We both shook our heads. “He wants to solve it himself…”

“Yeah, but isn’t that our job?” I asked. “Aren’t we supposed to protect him?”

“Of course. But sometimes you can’t. Sometimes the best thing you can do is show him that he doesn’t have to face it alone.”

Emily Prentiss, giving us parenting advice? I never saw it coming. Not that it was a bad thing, though. In fact, it was actually pretty nice, especially considering that she hadn’t been around long enough to give any kind of advice with Scarlet before. So, I would take it with Jack. For now. Maybe if I just encouraged her to keep at it, she wouldn’t leave again, and I’d have her around forever to give us sound advice with the kids.

As Hotch and her finished discussing Jack while I zoned out, I snapped out of my thoughts to interrupt and say, “Em, do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

They both paused, and she looked incredibly taken aback. For a moment, she exchanged a glance with Hotch, trying to gauge if he had been a part of this deal or not, and if he hadn’t been, then what did he think of her coming over for dinner? She had never been over before. At least, not on her own. But now that she was back since Doyle was gone, I wanted to make up for all of the lost time. I told her just before I lost her that I felt like I underappreciated her. I wasn’t going to let that continue. No matter what it would take, I would value Emily Prentiss, and I would never, ever take her for granted again—not when I knew what it was like to not have her in my life at all.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Okay.”

“Seven?”

“Sure.”

I smiled and took Hotch’s hand—a relieving feeling. “We’ll see you then.”

“Yeah…”

I started tugging at Hotch’s hand, eager to just get back home with him and to utilize the next few days that Strauss had given us to just spend time with our daughter. Our little bug—as I started calling her. My little man and my lil’ bug. I could live with the idea of just spending another few days with them and not having to think about work. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t want to go back. I still did. I think that going back to work would actually help Hotch and I get over the tension that was brewing between us ever since he came back from the Middle East.

But I kept tugging because it was nice to have him back at home. I liked that it could just be us again, and I could focus on forgiving him a little bit at a time. Someday soon, this whole thing would be a memory lost in the back of my brain, but it would always be there, lingering and waiting for its chance to work its way back to the front of my thoughts as ammunition against Hotch in whatever argument we could possibly be having. But right now, it was all I thought about. 24/7. Prentiss this, Prentiss that. You betrayed me, asshole, and I hate you for it. But I also love you more than anything in the world, and I can’t lose you. Which only makes me hate you more.

I kept pulling him towards the elevator as we waved goodbye to Emily.

I wasn’t going to let us turn into him and Haley. I wasn’t going to let us fail the way she let their relationship fail. I loved my husband, my son, and my daughter too much to just call it quits—even though this should have been the last time he lied to me and pissed me off. If I knew better, I should have called it quits with him the second Emily came sauntering back into the roundtable room. I should have taken the kids and left. But then I wouldn’t’ve been any different than Haley, and as shitty as it was to think—especially since she wasn’t around anymore to defend her memory—I didn’t want to turn into her. That was perhaps my worst fear. So, maybe staying with Hotch through all of this was less about us, but I supposed some kind of point to a dead woman…

I pulled Hotch into the elevator before I could keep thinking about it.

When we got home, without hesitating, I ran upstairs to the nursery while Hotch paid the babysitter to leave early. We thought that we were officially getting back to work, and Jessica wasn’t free to watch the kids, so we hired a nanny ahead of time to start watching the kids—just like Hotch and I always said we would. Only, now we were home… and we were asking her to leave early and not come back for a few days… We would’ve been lucky if she came back at all.

I gasped playfully when I saw Scarlet in her crib, kicking her legs up and out in response to seeing me and hearing my voice. “Hi, my baby.” I giggled and cooed to her as I gently picked her up. “Did you miss me?” I kissed her cheek. She grabbed onto my hair and started pulling at it, something she was obsessed with now that her hands had more movement to them.

Hotch came running in, too, just as breathless as I had been because he was so excited to see her. We only left a couple of hours ago, yet being away from her during that time felt like a thousand years. I just wanted to hold her always. But then again, so did Hotch, and he hadn’t been able to hold her as long as I had, so I had to give her up to him when he approached and outstretched his arms for her. She immediately started laughing and grabbing at his face. She loved doing that, even though his beard was gone again and there was nothing to hold onto.

Hotch slowly sat down on the ground. When he was settled, he gently let Scarlet settle on his lap so that he could accept her pacifier and toys from me as I handed them to him. She cooed as she started sucking on her pacifier. As I grabbed the koala stuffed animal that Prentiss left for her before… well… leaving, I supposed… I sat down beside Hotch, holding onto his shoulder for balance. I groaned as I relaxed.

“You good?” he questioned while taking the koala from me.

I nodded. “Long day.”

“Yeah, well, things seem to be looking up now.”

“I’m… I’m actually grateful this time around for Strauss suspending us.”

Hotch chuckled again. “I thought I wanted to get right back into the field, but after spending those three days at home with you, Scar, and Jack…” He chuckled lightly again. “I’m grateful, too.” He rested his head on my shoulder, making my heart melt in my chest. “I love you.”

I kissed his hair. “I love you, too.”

Hotch lifted Scarlet off his lap when she got too squirmy, giving her space to try to crawl around on her own. She wasn’t very good at it, but she tried her best. At least she was still too young to start walking yet so I never had to worry about Hotch missing that, or her first words. All we had to worry about right now was helping her crawl around and not fall on her face when her arms slipped under her. So, while we were sitting there, Hotch started working on getting her to crawl towards him by holding the koala up as an enticing prize.

She giggled and moved to him a little bit before slipping, just like I assumed she would. I caught her. When she was up on her hands again, she made another attempt, but then she tried reaching out for the toy, forgetting that her arms were the only things holding her up, so she slipped again. I laughed and caught her again.

“She’ll get good at it eventually,” Hotch said. “She’ll be a track star or something one day, I’m calling it now.”

“Our son, the soccer star; Our daughter, the track star. And where do academics fit into that?”

“As long as they get good grades, work their hardest, and come to us when they need help, I don’t care…” He handed the koala to her. “We’ll worry about getting them into the Academy later.”

I laughed loudly. “Come on, Hotch. The Academy?”

“I mean, your parents work for the government, we work for the government, what are the odds that they don’t?”

“What are the odds you don’t force Jack into joining the Academy?”

Hotch squinted at me. “I would do no such thing.”

“Mhm,” I answered sarcastically.

I was just giving him a hard time, to be fair. Scarlet was just too young for us to be planning out her future because we didn’t even know what she liked. We could joke all day that she would be a track star or that she would follow in our footsteps at the Academy, but until she was older, and we would get to know her, we couldn’t actually know that for sure. As for Jack, however, I would have been shocked if he didn’t think about joining the FBI. He always looked up to his father like he was a superhero. I mean, growing up, he literally said we were superheroes, he said that our job was saving the world, and he even went as far to choose dressing up as his father over fucking Spiderman for Halloween! There was no way Jack wasn’t going to consider it. I knew that I wanted him to focus on school right now and being a kid, but come college, it was entirely possible that the conversation was going to come up. Three generations of Greenaway/Hotchners in the FBI? We would be fucking legendary.

“Oh—She’s got it!” Hotch cheered while watching Scarlet crawl around the room towards the beanbag chair across from us. “Future track star, baby,” he said to me as he flung his arm around my shoulders, “what did I tell you?”

I shook my head sarcastically at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am… so lucky…” He turned and cupped my chin with his free hand, making me look up at him as he pressed into me for a gentle, loving kiss. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“Mhm.” I pressed into him a little more.

“I love you,” he mumbled against my lips.

“I love you, too—”

We parted when Scarlet threw her koala as a tantrum for not getting attention anymore, and then she started to cry.

“Well, now we know where she gets her neediness from,” he joked while standing to pick her up and set her down in her crib again.

I laid down on the floor. “Yeah. You.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, Agent Hotchner.”

“I thought I’m always right, Agent Hotchner.”

“You are.” He knelt beside me, then straddled my waist. “You always are.” He kissed me again. “And you always will be.”

I could forget that I was mad at him for just another hour or so… So, I tangled my fingers in his hair before pulling him close.

----

The doorbell rang while Hotch and I were trading places in front of the stove in the kitchen. I sighed as I wiped my hands clean on his apron, then turned to run for the front door,

Prentiss perked up when she saw me. “Hey!” And then she started giggling. “You’ve got a lil’ something’…” She pointed at her own nose, referencing that I must have had food there from when I was running around in the kitchen.

I quickly wiped my face with my sleeves. “Better?”

“Better.”

I widened the doorway, ushering her inside. As she stepped in, Emily handed me the bottle of wine that she brought for us as a polite thank you gift for having her over. I accepted it and showed her to the kitchen. Hotch was pulling the food out of the oven, setting it on hotplates, and stressing over trying not to burn himself in the process when we entered.

As he and Emily exchanged welcomes, I grabbed a corkscrew, and I asked Hotch if he could grab three glasses for us. He set his hot pads down before reaching into the cupboard for the glasses. Emily passed them to me.

“Where are the kids?” she asked.

I handed her the first full glass. “Scarlet’s passed out upstairs, and Jack’s eating dinner at a friend’s house.”

“Ryan Locke’s?”

“How did you know?”

“I kept my tabs on you guys while I was gone. Jack likes going to Ryan’s house after soccer practices.” She nudged my shoulder playfully before taking a sip of her wine, then heading to the dining room to sit down.

I exchanged a quick glance with Hotch, my eyes squinting into a short, accusing glare. He raised his hands in innocence. I shook my head at him, then grabbed our wine glasses and took them to the dining room as Hotch plated dinner for us. When he was ready, he juggled all of the plates in his hands and on his arms, slowly making his way out to the dining room, holding everything out for me so that I could help him before he could drop everything. He quietly thanked me.

He sat down beside me after giving Prentiss her food, too.

“How is it being back?” I asked.

She shrugged. “It’s… different. I’m adjusting well, but Reid and Morgan are still really mad at me.”

I shook my head. “Morgan isn’t mad. I think he’s confused, and he’s trying to deal with the fact that he mourned something that wasn’t real, but he’ll come around—They both will. It’ll just take some time.”

“I know, but I just wish things could go back to normal.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing that they aren’t. Means you can start over.”

“When did you get all wise with advice?” Emily laughed.

“I think we all changed a lot while you were gone. Don’t you think?” No one said anything. “You gave us parenting advice earlier,” I said behind my forkful of salad. “Did you realize?”

Prentiss’s face fell. “I’m so sorry—”

“No. Don’t be. It was nice.”

She smiled at me before looking down at her plate. “Have you talked to Jack about it yet?”

“Not yet,” Hotch answered. “I will, though, tonight.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’ve got a trick up my sleeve.”

The three of us snickered.

Suddenly, we could hear Scarlet crying bloody murder on the baby monitor next to my left wrist. I quickly turned it down. I sighed as I started moving my seat back so that I could head upstairs to calm her down, but Hotch pushed his hand out flat, ordering me to stay and offering that he could handle it. I smiled shortly at him. As he continued on his way up to Scarlet’s bedroom, I settled back in my seat and picked up my glass of wine. Emily eyed me as she finished her dinner. She pushed the plate further up on the table so that she could lean forward. I watched her carefully.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you, too.”

She shook her head. “No. I mean, I really missed you, Y/N. It killed me every day to know that you didn’t know the truth, and that you named your little girl after me because you thought that I was—”

“I don’t regret it, Em.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re still one of my best friends.”

“Even after everything I did?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

Hotch’s footsteps echoed through the house as he came back downstairs—a lot slower than the way he had gone up. I turned to see him coming into the living room, carrying Scarlet who was quietly fussing in his arms. He stepped to sit down, but Emily stopped him in his tracks with a question we hadn’t anticipated.

“Can I hold her?”

Hotch hesitated for a second, watching me, trying to gauge if I was at all opposed to the idea. I, of course, didn’t have any qualms with it. So, Hotch carefully handed Scarlet over.

“She’s going to be hard to chase around when she’s older,” Emily said while playing with Scarlet’s kicking feet. “She loves to squirm now… Imagine what she’ll be like when she’s on her feet.”

Hotch let out an exhausted chuckle. “Yeah. We were joking earlier that she’ll be a track star.”

Emily nodded.

Hotch threw his arm around the back of my seat as I leaned forward to keep eating. “Morgan’ll get to chase her around when she’s little, though. He’s always insisted, so we’re going to indulge him.”

“I’ll chip in on that.”

“Yeah?” I questioned.

She nodded. “Of course.”

I leaned back in my seat and put a comforting, innocent hand on Hotch’s thigh. He moved his hand from holding the back of my chair to resting on my far shoulder so that he could pull me close, tucking me under his arm and against his chest.

“You know,” I began slowly and carefully, trying to change the conversation as smoothly as possible, “she technically doesn’t have a godmother.”

Emily cocked a brow at us. “What?”

“Well, when she was born, we knew that we wanted Morgan to be her godfather, but her godmother… Well, she was gone before we got to ask if she wanted to be Scarlet’s godmother. So, we left the spot officially open, but, technically, I suppose, Jessica was her godmother.”

“’Was’?”

“You’re back now, so…”

Her jaw dropped somewhat. “You’re kidding.” I shook my head, then waited as she looked down at Scarlet. “Me?” She looked back up at me. “Are you… Are you sure?”

I nodded. “It was the original plan, so we might as well make it official now.”

Scarlet yawned and stretched in her sleep. Emily laughed down at her, making sure that she wasn’t loud enough to wake her. When she started snoring, however, Hotch slid his arm off of me, stood, and went to take Scarlet back so that he could take her back upstairs.

Since dinner was done, Emily helped me collect the dishes and take them to the kitchen, but at that point, I decided to kick her out. There was no way in hell she was going to help me clean up when she was a guest in our own home. Besides, Hotch and I had the next few days off, which meant we could afford to stay up late and sleep in tomorrow; but Emily, on the other hand, still had to be up bright and early in the morning in order to get to work on time. So, it was time for her to leave. Hotch and I ushered her to the door, insisting that if she ever needed anything, she could come to us, and she returned the favor with a bright smile while slipping into her coat.

“Good luck with Jack,” she said.

We smiled and thanked her, then Hotch opened the door for her. As she stepped outside and started towards her car, Hotch snaked his arm around my waist, and we both waved goodbye to her until she was in her car and driving around the corner. Hotch kissed my cheek and closed the door.

“Leave the dishes,” he pleaded against my skin.

I tucked into his side even more, a physical reaction to how desperate I suddenly felt for him. “You have to talk to Jack, baby…”

He turned and his hands started wandering up and down my sides, slowly feeling me up. “I know,” he pouted, “but afterwards—”

“You have three days ahead of you to do whatever you want with me.” I escaped his arms before things could progress out of control. “Go talk to your son.”

He squinted at me. “I’m counting this.”

“Counting?”

“As a bratty act.”

My eyes widened. “No, wait, that’s not—”

“Fair?” He smirked and towered over me. “Too bad.” He kissed my nose before turning to head upstairs.

I waited a few moments, staring at the kitchen, debating if I should go and do them now or leave them and regret not doing them in the morning. But we didn’t have work. I could do them whenever… I could afford to just let them sit there overnight… Besides, I was curious as to what was going on with Jack, so parent instincts took over, and I decided to head upstairs to listen in on what Hotch had to say to him.

I tip-toed down the hallway, creeping around the floorboards that I learned had a tendency to squeak. Jack and Hotch were whispering in his bedroom, and the closer I got, the better I could hear them. Hotch was talking about something new he wanted to try out with Jack in order to connect with Haley. I peeked my head in to see what they were talking about, that was when I saw Hotch lighting a candle before handing it to Jack.

“This candle represents Mom…” Hotch explained, keeping a careful eye on the flame. “Whenever you feel like you want to talk to her— whatever it might be about, I want you to tell me so that I can come light this for you and you can talk to her through this candle.”

“Why, though?” Jack asked.

“Because I know how much you miss her. I miss her, too. Every day. And I know that I wish I could still talk to her sometimes, so I think that it would be good for us to do this.”

“But won’t it make you sad?”

Hotch’s shoulders fell. “Buddy, you could never make me sad. Every day, I wake up and I see you, and I’m reminded of the great job Mom did with you, and I’m very proud of you both. I just think that if we start doing this every now and again, Mom can help us.”

“Like with what?”

“Well,” Hotch shrugged, “you know, like, if you’re having a bad day, or something.”

“But I have Y/N.”

“I know you do, buddy; but sometimes it’s just nice to get some advice from your mom, right?” Hotch hesitated for a second while he sucked in a deep breath. “Mrs. McKee told me and Y/N today that Paul’s been mean to you. And we know that you didn’t want to tell us because you don’t want us to worry about you and you want to try to handle it on your own, but sometimes it’s good to talk about these things with someone— especially someone you love. Sometimes there are things that you don’t want to tell me or Y/N, and that’s fine, but you should tell someone, so maybe that someone should be your mom through this candle. Does that make sense?” Jack nodded. “Good…” Hotch brushed Jack’s hair back slightly. “Try something like this.” He leaned forward towards the candle in Jack’s hands and said, “Mom, look over Jack. Be there when he needs it. I love you.” He leaned away from the candle, “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Jack wiggled under his blankets as he tried to find a comfortable position to sit in again. When he was settled, Jack leaned towards the flame, just like his dad did, and he whispered, “Mom, look over Dad, Y/N, and Emily for me.” He was using his grown-up voice to sound more like his dad. “And don’t forget to tell Dad that I want that new Lego set for my birthday.”

I chuckled quietly from the doorway, but not loud enough for them to hear.

“Of course,” Hotch nodded, also chuckling. “Is that all?”

“And I love you.”

“Good job, buddy,” Hotch complimented after taking the candle from Jack. He blew the flame out and set it on Jack’s bedside table so that it would always be with him, no matter what. With one hand, Hotch blindly turned off the lamp beside him while kissing Jack’s forehead.

“Night, Dad.”

Hotch pushed himself to his feet, “Good night and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“Can you ask Y/N to come tuck me in, too?”

“Yeah. Of course, I can.”

I heard Hotch walking out of the room, and before I could turn to dash down the hall to be less suspicious, he came out and caught me standing there. I giggled when his lips turned up into a smile. Before he could expose my eavesdropping, I grabbed his forearm, and I pulled him towards me and out of the doorway, pressing him against the wall so that Jack would never know we were still there.

“Were you snooping?” he whispered. I nodded and hid my face against his chest. “I think he’s going to be okay.”

“Me, too.” I hugged him tightly. “But now we have to get him that fucking Lego set.”

He let out a laugh that was a little too loud, forcing me to quickly cover his mouth and shush him. After a moment, he peeled my hand away. “You should go tuck him in.”

“You look up that Lego set, I’ll tuck him in.”

“Deal.” He kissed my lips before sneaking out of my arms and heading down the hallway to go get ready for bed in our room.

When he was out of sight, I purposefully stepped on one of the loud, creaking planks on the ground to let Jack know that I was approaching—and to trick him into thinking that I hadn’t been standing there the whole time. He was snuggled under his covers, watching the doorway eagerly for me. When he spotted me, he perked up, all excited to get a kiss and a hug goodnight. How did I get so damn lucky to have a kid like him?

“Oh, boy,” I groaned while sitting down on the edge of his mattress. I pouted and feigned exhaustion for him—not that it was hard to fake, to be honest. “What if I just…” I started falling forward until I crashed against his bed, purposefully taking up a lot of space compared to him. “I think I’ll just fall asleep here.” I rolled over somewhat and flailed my arms about to really get in his personal space.

“Mom!” he protested through a loud laugh. I started snoring loudly. “Dad! Help!” Still snoring and keeping my eyes screwed shut, I tapped my hand around aimlessly until I found his tickle spot and started going for it just to keep him quiet so that he wouldn’t wake up Scarlet in the next room. “Mom— please—” he begged through the giggles. I started snoring louder. Finally, the kid got smart by grabbing Red from his other side and started hitting me in the head with it.

“Ouch,” I said, stopping my attack on him just to rub my head. “Touché, Jack Hotchner. You win this round.” I pushed myself upright and moved back to the edge of the bed so that Jack could get settled again. “Yeah, I think this bed’s too small for me anyhow.” I smiled at the way he was still giggling while trying to catch his breath. “My little man,” I cooed, pulling the covers up to his chin, “I love you so much.”

He cuddled Red close to himself. “I love you, too, Mom.”

I leaned down to kiss his forehead. “My little superhero.” I sat up. “Should I be concerned about Paul? Do I need to go all Luke Skywalker on him?” I held my hands up like I was using a lightsaber to deflect a bunch of laser bullets. “’Cause I will.”

“That’s not how Luke—” Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“Pinkie promise or I won’t believe you.” We held out our pinkies simultaneously before interlocking them tightly. I squinted at him. “Okay. Fine.” I kissed his hand quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Night, little man.” I released him and started making my way out of his bedroom.

“Night, Mom.”

I turned off his lights then slowly closed the door.

------

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @alex--awesome--22​  @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​​ @absolutemarveltrash​​ @bshelley322​​ @rousethemouse​ @sunshinepower17​ @weexinling​​ @pettttyyyc​@ Braty-angel

[hollyxqx]

the ex-boyfriend  //  taehyung  //  oneshot

↪ PAIRING: Reader/Kim Taehyung ↪ SUMMARY: A snowstorm brings you and your ex Taehyung closer than you ever expected to be again.  ↪ WORD COUNT: 2.8k

↪ WARNINGS: pwp | choking | dom!taehyung

"Thanks for doing this." You say, the awkwardness of the situation brining an uncomfortable heat to your cheeks. Taehyung nods in acknowledgement from behind the box of your things he's cradling. It was only a matter of time before the ritual of handing back each other's things took place. However knowing it would occur doesn't make it any easier.

"Where do you want it?" Taehyung asks as he crosses the threshold of your apartment. You're quick to shut the door behind him so no more snow makes it's way inside. He's already tracked in an inordinate amount from his shoes and jacket alone.

"Here is fine." You gesture to a space you've made by the stairs. He squats down and places the box on the floor.  "Thanks, Tae."

"I told you, stop thanking me." He rolls his eyes but his tone is light. "Had to be done eventually, huh?"

"It's so...final." You say before you can stop yourself. It's been several months since you and Taehyung have been apart but this feels like the final nail in the coffin. Now there is no excuse to see each other, ever again. He was a major part of your life for a long time and you still haven't adjusted to being separate.

"Well, yeah." He scratches the back of his neck and stares at the ground. "That's what break ups are."

It was your idea to call things off, something he doesn't throw in your face but he doesn't let you forget either. He was moving away for college and the long distance thing always felt like a good theory but nothing more. Real life was more complicated and a couple of thousand miles between a couple could only hinder rather than help.

"Are you home for long?"

"Just the holidays." He sighs.

"How is college?"

"Hard."

You share a small smile. Taehyung was always so straight to the point. It was something you always liked about him. There was never any bullshit. "You're smart, you can take it." You tell him.

"I don't know, you should see my coursework." He laughs. "Get a degree but age ten years in the process. Maybe it's not worth it."

"It's worth it. How hard have you worked to get to this point?" You remind him.

"True. I just need perspective sometimes." He shifts in the hallway and the awkwardness rears it's ugly head once again. "So....I'm gonna head out."

You peer out the window at the worsening storm, chewing your lip anxiously. You can barely make out Taehyung's parked car in the blizzard that's formed. "Are you sure you want to drive in that?"

"Don't exactly have much of a choice." He shrugs. "I'm a good driver. I'll be fine."

"Tae," You reprimand. "Don't be reckless. You can hang out here for a while, at least until the blizzard stops."

"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You don't."

"It's weird."

"Yeah it is. But I'd rather a couple of hours of weird tension than you die in a snowstorm." You joke and he laughs. "Come on," You urge. "I'll make us some coffee."

Taehyung pauses a moment as if he's mulling your offer over before he shrugs his winter coat off, hanging it on the coat rack next to the door. He follows you to the kitchen, propping himself against the granite counter, arms folded across his chest as you boil some water. You can feel his eyes on you as move.

"Want me to make this Irish?" You throw him a slightly mischievous look over your shoulder and he cracks a grin.

"Sure. It'll warm me up."

You finish making the drinks a few moments later, handing Taehyung his cup. The two of you share a moment of comfortable silence as you sip the hot liquid. The whiskey burns your throat deliciously. "Are you staying with your parents?" You ask as you blow on your drink to cool it down.

"Yeah. Mom's made one too many jokes about kidnapping me so I can't go back to school, I'm genuinely a little concerned."

"Knowing her the threat is very real." You laugh.

"I'm going to have to keep my wits about me." He jokes. The two of you finish your coffee and you take both cups to the sink. Before you even have a moment to process what's happening Taehyung's body is pressed behind you; he's looming over you, broad chest against your back.

"Want me to help?" He asks, his voice vibrates deep in his throat and it makes you weak.

"Taehyung." You warn.

"What?" He is playing dumb but there's a childish smile playing on his lips. His arms cage you in against the sink. "I'm just offering my assistance."

"That's all you're offering?" You fire back, a sceptical eyebrow raised. "You forget how well I know you."

"You're overthinking, sweetheart." He leans down and kisses your cheek before removing himself from you completely. Taehyung crosses the room and is gone before you can even register what's happened. You put away the now clean dishes and muster as much strength as you can to join Tae in the living room.

"The storm is still raging." You announce as you flop down on the sofa next to him. He looks at you briefly before nodding.

"I just checked the forecast. It's supposed to be like this all night."

"You can stay here tonight, y'know." You point out. It doesn't matter how much time you've spent away from each other, you're not about to leave him stranded. You care, you've always cared.

"You're too good to me, kid." He smiles at the pet name he's always given you, regardless of how much it infuriates you. "I won't stay the night - I'll get out of your hair as soon as possible."

"You're a headache I can deal with Tae," You grin. "Don't worry."

You don't know how it happens or who makes the first move but Taehyung's arm is sliding around your shoulders and your face is nuzzling into his chest. He smells like he always has; like cologne with a hint of sweat. Nothing overt, he just smells like him. It's heady. You try not to think too much about it as you make yourself comfortable.

"We have to keep warm." He says and you can practically hear the smirk on his full lips.

"This is not a good idea." You mumble into his sweater. "I have heating."

"Why not?" He queries.

"You know why." You throw with a warning look but neither of you move away from each other.

"I missed this." He says with a yawn, tugging you that extra bit closer.

"You can't do this with all those college girls that throw themselves at you?" You tease, giving him a playful poke in the stomach. He captures your hand with his to steady it but he doesn't let it go.

"It's not the same." He replies in a small voice. Your head spins at the idea of him with anyone other than you but there's nothing you can do about it. You asked for this. "I'm too busy for girls right now anyhow."

"Sure." You smirk. "Too busy for a girlfriend - not girls."

"Sex doesn't always have to mean something, you know."

"Isn't it better when it does?" You ask, looking up at him. Taehyung pauses and swipes his tongue over his bottom lip in thought.

"Much better." He swallows dryly.

Taehyung's arm is trailing up and down your back as his eyes bore in to yours. It's easy, almost too easy to get lost in him. He's familiar, he's comforting. He feels like home. The way you slot into his embrace feels exact, like you were always meant to be here. "Tae." It almost sounds like you're pleading.

"y/n." He echoes.

He grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb and ever so gently tilts your head upwards. You know what's happening before it does, having been in this situation many times before. Unconsciously your lips part for him as he leans in closer. The moment his lips connect with yours your eyes flutter close and you allow yourself to drown in him.

His hands grip your waist and he squeezes slightly as the kiss deepens. You can't resist running a hand through his hair, it's much longer now than when you saw him last. He groans faintly when your nails scratch at his nape. "Missed you." He whispers against your mouth as he pulls away briefly.

"Missed you too." You whisper back.

He snakes his arms around you tightly and draws you on to his lap. "This is okay right?" He asks, searching your face.

"It's okay." You breathe. "Not a good idea, but it's okay."

He chuckles a little as he leans forward to kiss you once more. It doesn't take long for the kiss to get hot and heavy, tongues clashing and chests heaving. You're not sure if you're pressing yourself into him or if he's holding you there, but either way it feels good as you grind down on his lap. It's obvious he's as into this as you are, you feel the hardening bulge in his trousers as you move.

"God," He groans as he grips you ass with a smack. "I know I said it before but fuck - I missed you."

Lips trail down your face to your neck as if he can't get enough of you. Before you can even register it he's unbuttoning your blouse, mouth following his hands as he goes, kissing very inch of exposed skin. The garment gets tossed to the floor leaving you in your bra. "I'm cold," You whine as you cling to him.

Taehyung says nothing as he stands, strong arms able to carry you easily. He knows where your bedroom is and he takes you there, burying you both underneath the duvet and stealing as many kisses as he can on the way. "Better?"

"Mmhmm," You nod as you help him remove his shirt, the warmth of the bedding allowing you to do so. The feeling of his bare skin against yours is dizzying. "You're keeping me warm."

"I'll do more than that."  He smirks as he removes your leggings in one swift motion. They get lost in the sheets somewhere but you have little regard for that, desperate to feel Taehyung between your hips. He shuffles down the bed, slotting his shoulders between your parted thighs, grazing a knuckle against your clothed core. "Were you expecting something?" He smirks, referring to your lacy underwear.

"I like wearing cute panties, leave me alone." You say, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. He doesn't allow you to, large palms sliding up your skin to keep you open for him. He licks a hot strip up your inner thigh before placing a kiss on your covered centre.

"I like it." He murmurs. "Have you missed my mouth on your little pussy?" His fingertips never stop stroking you as you lock eyes. No one has ever looked at you the way Taehyung does, with so much desire and want. His expression alone is enough to turn you on.

"You have no idea." You whimper from the anticipation.

"I'm still the best right?" He says with a small grin. It's redundant, he doesn't have to ask; you both know he is. Years of mapping out your body has taught him as much. His eyes remain locked with yours as he slides your underwear down, leaving you bare. "Baby I'm not going to touch you until you answer me." His hot breath tickles you, mouth so close to where you need it most.

"You know you are." You groan. "Touch me, Tae. Please."

"How can I say no when you beg me like that?" He flashes you a wicked look before his tongue slips into your pussy, sliding in between your wet folds. It feels so overwhelmingly good you almost want to push him away but you don't, you arch your back allowing him better access. "Feel good?" He asks, pausing briefly to slip a finger into you, mouth returning to your clit.

"Incredible." You answer as best you can, not totally coherent at the present moment. He works you like he knows how, deadly combination of fingers and tongue until your fisting the sheets in your hands and hanging on by a thread. "I'm coming, I'm coming, Tae - fuck." You cry as your release washes over you.

As you regain your breath you gaze at the ceiling, still feeling like the moment was entirely surreal. You hadn't expected this to happen at all. Tae kisses his way up your abdomen until he's hovering over you, resting on his forearms. "You," He states, kissing you once on the mouth. "Are so sexy when you cum. I could watch it fifty times and never get bored."

"You're crazy." You laugh against his mouth.

"Maybe." He hums as his hands move to your back and unclip your bra. "Crazy for you."

"Cheesy."

"But true."

He's taking his trousers off in no time, leaving you both totally naked, cradled in his arms. Outside the storm rages on, the wind rattling at the windows loudly. However loud it is doesn't matter, you feel safe in his arms. You always have.

His hard cock is pressing into you and you know you should stop him but you don't. "You're so big Tae, shit." You say with a small laugh, relaxing as he stretches you out.

"You can take it." He kisses you as he begins to thrust slowly. It's shallow at first but with every movement he gets deeper. "Fuck you feel amazing."

You wrap your legs around his waist, anchoring him to you. "You fuck me so good Tae."

"Yeah I fuck you good. Just me." A hand snakes up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze before locking itself around your throat. It's something Taehyung remembered you liked and he grips tightly. Not tight enough to hurt but enough to restrict your breath and make you feel light headed. "Say my name."

"Taehyung," You choke out as he begins to pound harder, grip tightening.

"Again." He grunts.

"Tae," You manage to get out before you're cut off by your own moan. He always knew exactly how hard and fast to fuck you. Hand still around your throat he leans down and kisses you as he rocks into you. You might have been cold before but now sweat is dripping off of both of you.

Without warning he pulls out of you, flipping you to your front. A hand winds in your hair, pulling you close to him, Tae's mouth against your ear. "Beg for me." He growls.

"I'm not going to beg." You pant.

"I'm not going to fuck you then." He whispers, nipping at your neck, cock teasing your entrance. You try your best to push back on it, desperate to feel him fill you once more but he's quicker, angling himself away from you so you can't. "You just have to tell me how much you want me, angel."

"I want you." You almost feel like crying.

"More than anyone else?" He coos as he spreads your legs from behind with his knee. You fall backwards on him, the only thing keeping you upright are his hands.

"You're the only one I want."

"I want to believe you." He says. "But you don't sound desperate enough."

"Taehyung," You plead. "Just fuck me. Please. Please."

He doesn't answer you, instead he enters you roughly from behind. He drills into you, the combination of roughness with the way he holds you makes you light headed. "Y/n, I'm so close to cumming." He breathes against your ear. "Are you close?"

"I'm close, don't stop."

You're falling apart only moments later. You've never been able to orgasm twice with anyone other than Taehyung. "Baby, I can come inside right?" He says breathlessly. You give him a helpless yes as you recover before he's spilling inside of you. "There's nothing better." He groans as he rides out his orgasm. "Fuck."

When you attempt to move away after he's slowed to a halt he only grips you tighter. "I need to clean up." You complain with a laugh.

"No, you need to stay with me." He pulls out and already you can feel the mess he's made trickling down your thigh. "Don't regret this." He takes you by surprise as he holds you. "We love each other, we know each other. Don't get mad at yourself for this."

"I wont be mad. Just sad when you leave again." You admit, avoiding his gaze but he chases you, unwilling to let you hide.

"You think I won't be sad when I leave too?" He hums. You've never really thought too much about that.

"You will?"

"I fucking hate being without you."

"It's for the best, Tae." You remind him sadly.

"No - 'for the best' is when we're both happy. Are you happy right now?"

"Yes." You reply unconvincingly.

"Liar." He responds with a kiss. "I'll wait for you. I always will."

masterlist

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.5)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Five) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 3,059 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior Author’s Note: I’m not sure if this is the last part but I’m leaning towards it.

Part Four || Part Six || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Five and a half months ago…

Tony blinked against the sun as they left the news station. Y/N had facilitated a project, along with others, to bring seniors more fresh produce in their Meals on Wheels local program. She was excited about the project and Tony honestly could not give two shits about it but if it made her happy, he was happy to be there with her. He loved seeing the joyous smile on her face and her enthusiasm talking about it.

His hand was wrapped tightly around her waist as they walked out towards his car. And his smile only faltered when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd across the street. And a face he did not want to be seeing in public like this. And they were staring directly at him, like they had been waiting for him.

Tony turned to Y/N and whispered in her ear, “I need to go to the restroom.”

“We were just inside,” she jested. “Why didn’t you go then?”

“I didn’t have to go then. Here.” He opened the door for her, letting her get in. “I’ll be right back.”

To Happy, he whispered, “Fabian.”

“What do you want me to do?” Happy asked quietly, keeping his sights on Tony and not being obvious.

“Stay here with Y/N. I’ll be right back.”

“Boss—”

“He’s not going to lay a finger on me.” Tony said and Happy looked at him disbelieving. Tony was being overconfident about it and he knew it but he could not accept lowlifes trying to approach him in public like this. “Stay here with her. I’ll be back.”

Tony walked away from the car, moving back down the sidewalk. He spotted Fabian moving through it and he smirked to himself. He walked past the news station doors, and down the immediate alley.

He was waiting when Fabian entered the alley, standing dead center, hands in his pockets. If looks could smite, Fabian would have burned on the spot. “What makes you think you can come up to me in public?”

“You haven’t been returning my calls I’ve been leaving!”

“Yeah and for good reason. You’re unhinged!”

“That wasn’t my—"

Tony stepped closer, spitting, “You listen closely, Fabian, I am done with you and your bullshit! You are done. Do you get that? You had your chance and you fucked up. And I cannot be seen in public with you. You know that though. You squeal to anyone and you won’t just have me after you, you’ll have the whole city gunning for you with how many people are tied to it and you will. not. win. If you ever come up to me in public again – especially when I’m out with my wife – I will kill you on the spot.”

Tony straightened out his jacket before storming away from the man who was staring at him slack jacked. Tony did not give him a moment to respond before he was around him and striding back down the alley.

When he got into the car, Y/N was none the wiser.

She was immediately back into conversation, talking about what good this interview was going to do for the project and thanking him for coming along with her. Tony smiled sweetly, listening intently. His adoration for her wove deeply. He truly had recovered a true gem from the rabble.

<><><>

You stared at the door in bewilderment before touching it again. F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

“Excuse me?” you word vomited.

“Do you need me to repeat the message, Mrs. Stark?”

You hated how calm F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded.

“Override,” you tried.

“You do not have authorization to do that, Mrs. Stark.”

“Why can’t I go outside?”

“Mr. Stark blocked access at this door.”

You let out a frustrated noise before turning away from the door. You walked to the bedroom door, feeling the ache but you had to know. You walked down the stairs, taking them slowly. You went to the closest patio door, gripping the handle tightly.

“You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

Breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep yourself calm, you turned your head eyeing the next patio door.

Her voice was becoming quickly annoying. “You’re not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

You took off around the mansion, trying all the doors leading to the outside but you got the same code when it read your fingerprint. You made your way to the front door, the door to the garage, out to the garden. It was all the same message. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, it sinking in that you were locked inside.

The thought of the kitchen door out to the pool came to you and you moved as quickly as you could there. You stalled seeing Happy standing in there, cutting an apple. He stilled seeing you and you did not miss the sly look he gave you as you moved through the kitchen, past the island where he was standing.

The same goddamn message.

You whipped around and stared at Happy.

“Let me out!” you demanded.

“I can’t override what the boss has inputted into the security system. You know that,” Happy said in passive tone, looking completely indifferent to how worked up you were.

“Where is he?”

“He left earlier.”

“Well, did he happen to mention to you why he was locking me inside?” you exasperated, throwing your hands out at your sides.

Happy sucked at his teeth, leveling you with a serious look. “Y/N, do you really need to be asking me that? Truly?”

You bit your cheeks to avoid shouting at him and forced yourself to turn on your heel and storm out of the room away from him. You made your way back up the stairs, going for your bedroom where your cell was waiting on the bedside table. Snatching it off the table, you pressed Tony’s name.

“Yes, kitten?” he answered calmly.

“Your stupid AI won’t let me out!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah, I programmed that this morning.”

“You…,” you started to argue but then your voice went up a notch, trying to whine. “Daddy, you can’t keep me locked in here!”

“Can’t or shouldn’t? Because it looks like I’m already doing it, so I apparently can,” Tony replied coolly.

“You shouldn’t then!” You added for good measure quickly, “Please!”

Tony’s tone was firm when he told you, “I think I very well should. You crossed a lot of lines and I am not fucking around when I tell you that they were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You brought this on yourself, Y/N. Maybe if you spent less time throwing tantrums and more time listening to me, you wouldn’t have found yourself here. And hopefully you won’t again. I certainly hope you won’t again. I know you can do better.”

You were quiet, biting back tears. You thought you would be cuddling this morning, everything slowly falling back to normal.

He heard you sniffle and the sound of it elicited a soft sigh from him. “Princess, you can earn my trust back. I’m a reasonable man.”

“I said I was sorry,” you said tearfully.

“Oh, I know you did. And it was heartfelt. And you did so very well last night. I was impressed by you. Truly, baby. But I need to be sure you understand how serious I am that I don’t want you to repeat that. Ever.”

You asked weakly, “When are you coming back?”

“Tonight. I won’t leave you for long. And I’m going to bring you something. But you need to just sit tight. Be good for Happy.”

You did not answer because you were staring out the window, grinding your teeth.

“Princess?”

His voice snapped you back to reality and you got out, “I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. By the way, I set up an appointment for you today, last minute. It’s a virtual meeting. Happy knows about it, he’ll help you. OB/GYN. F.R.I.D.A.Y will scan you, the baby, send it to her and she’ll correspond.”

“She’ll correspond with… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” you asked slowly.

“Just this one time. I promise we have a real appointment next week. I’ll be at every one after this and we will do it in person. Cross my heart.”

Your voice was small, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you later. Be good.”

“I will, daddy.”

He hung up and you pulled the phone away from your ear, staring down at it. He was acting weird. He acknowledged what had happened but moved so seamlessly into baby talk and appointments.

How were you going to relax knowing you were stuck in here?

<><><>

Five months ago…

The art show was boring and even more so for the afterpart of it. You had no desire to speak to anyone about it and they were all gathered in the large center room drinking wine and having finger foods. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and you removed your underwear, tossing them into the trash bin before leaving to find Tony,

Tony was speaking to someone, sitting on a set of small chairs. The sight of you caught his attention and you put your finger to your lips. He only spared you a second’s confused look before looking back at the man. But his gaze found you again quickly, curiosity getting the better of him. Over the man’s shoulder, hidden from the rest of the room by the large plant, you opened the slit in your dress, showing Tony you were not wearing any underwear. He began to smile and hid it by his hand came to his mouth, it balling into a fist as he stared daggers at you. You gave him a wide, tantalizing grin, beginning to walk backwards towards the doorway to the adjacent hallway.

You left him sitting on the couch, dropping your dress. The hallway was empty, and you walked slowly down it, taking in the art.

It did not take long for you to hear footsteps behind you, and you looked over your shoulder finding a very hot and bothered Tony coming down towards you. He wasted no time pushing you into the corner at the turn in the hall, his hands snaking up your dress. You turned your head, giving a throaty laugh.

“Listen here… if you wanna come, you better look at me,” Tony husked.

“There’s people—”

“You started it.”

You nipped at his nose and he buried his face into your neck in return. He resumed pressing you into the wall, his fingers slipping in to work you up.

<><><>

Three months ago…

People were outside in the pool, drunk in the summer sun. You though, you were inside, sitting against the wall, pouting. Some of your old escort friends had shown up per request for the guests attending and told you they were planning a trip to Vancouver to do some shopping and ‘go out on the town’ in a few weekends. You had been excited about the prospect, you had not been out like that for a long time. When you had left the group though and leaned over Tony’s shoulder at the poker game to tell him about it, he had waved you off.

“You’re not going,” had been his exact words.

Instead of going back to the girls, you had gone inside, not wanting to tell them the bad news. At the inside bar, you had taken a couple of shots and made sure Tony saw you walk by the window. You tossed him a glare as you passed. Him and his stupid open shirt over his dumb swim trunks – that you had specifically picked out earlier this week when you were shopping – could get fucked right now for all you cared.

It was not too long before Tony appeared in front of you, peering down at you, looking ever piqued. He was not happy you were sulking.

“You know, you’re really bringing down my mood, princess. Glaring at me like that because I had the audacity to deny you one thing out of millions.”

“Then stop looking at me,” you retorted, avoiding his eyes, still staring off out towards the pool party.

You heard him scoff and he said, “Don’t even try to throw a tantrum right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just sitting here.”

“Looking like I killed your fucking dog.”

You merely shrugged aggressively in response.

He gestured out towards the patio doors. “You know they’re only going to get in trouble up there. And I don’t want you to get wrapped up in it.”

“So, you don’t trust me to be faithful,” you said finally making eye contact with him.

Tony held up a finger to you and corrected firmly, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands down beside you on the bench. “You don’t trust me!”

“Don’t try to make this into something that it’s not. I don’t trust them to keep you out of trouble,” Tony retorted. “You know how they are! You were – are – friends with them for fucks sake!” You opened your mouth to argue and he cut you off. “No, I’m done with this conversation. You know what I meant. I’m sorry that you are upset but there’s a reason I’m saying no to it. Now, either shape up and come back outside or go upstairs if you’re going to just glower at me.”

Clenching your jaw, you stood up angrily and stormed off away from him towards the upstairs.

You decided on a whim to leave, grabbing a swim suit cover and throwing some sandals on. Downstairs you ran into one of Tony’s guys and you stopped because of the way he was staring at you. You had wanted to leave without anyone noticing but seemed like that was not going to be the case.

His eyes ran over you, taking you in. “You alright?” he asked curiously, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, peachy. Have fun with your dumb poker game,” you spat at him before turning and walking to the front door.

You got into the car, turning it on angrily. You knew you should not be driving but you just did not want to be at home anymore. And Cassandra’s was not too far away, only twenty five minutes or so. You took off down the driveway, actually smirking of the look on his face when F.R.I.D.A.Y informed Tony you had left whenever he decided to check in on you. That should be awhile because he had been on a winning roll.

<><><>

He did not announce himself and you only realized he was home because F.R.I.D.A.Y came over the speaker in the living room informing you, “Dinner is ready in the kitchen.”

When you walked into the kitchen, he was a complete 180 from the night before. He walked up, giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking then sincerely, “How was your day?”

“Fine…” you said, trailing off, giving him a curious look at his nonchalant demeanor.

He brushed it off, grasping your hand and began to lead you to your plate he had set up on the island next to one for him. “That’s good, kitten. Here. I hope you’re hungry.” He immediately paused and said under his breath, “Fuck. Hold on.”

Tony walked off to the pantry and your eyes wandered to the counter. You looked down at the plate and saw it was the dish from your favorite date night restaurant. He did that on purpose, you thought immediately. To remind you he remembered things you liked. To get you something that you did like. It was like an apology, extending an olive branch. This is how he knew how to apologize, with gifts.

You waited patiently until he came back with a long lighter. He smiled at you, lighting the small candle on the counter in between your plates. “Just like at the restaurant.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the small touch.

“Sorry, it’s just sparkling cider,” he told you, gesturing at the glass in front of your plate. He held up his bourbon and took a swift drink.

“It’s fine, thanks,” you said, picking up your fork and taking a bite. You savored the taste, chewing slowly.

Silence fell over the table and the two of you ate, both staring down at your plates as you ate. There was something hanging in the air between you and you just wanted to know what.

You got your answer soon enough. Tony’s sigh was heavy as he dropped his fork to his plate. “You know… I do have to apologize.”

That caught your attention.

“I hate doing it. You know I do,” he said, giving a little nervous laugh. “Admitting I’m wrong. Goes against everything in my genes. But… I could—should have done better with aftercare. The bath was bare minimum. I know you need more. We talked about it. And I… I lost my temper. And that’s not fair of me when I’m in the position I am in.”

He had your rapt attention, you tracking his every word. What he said was not untrue – you two had had a conversation about aftercare, especially when it came to punishments. He seemed genuine in his apology.

Tony made eye contact with you, grasping your hand. “In the future, especially during your pregnancy—” He cut off. “And I looked at the report. Everything seems to be okay?” You nodded and he nodded in return, “Good. Good… I need to be more careful. I need to do better. So… I’m sorry.”

You chewed your lip, taking what he said in. He was waiting for you to respond, to say anything, his eyes desperately searching yours.

“I accept your apology,” you told him.

Tony was pleased, his frame relaxing immediately at your forgiveness. Your hand was brought to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re good. So good.” He stepped closer, and his free hand came to the side of your face, looking into your eyes deeply. “So, after dinner… maybe I can lotion you down?”

“The raspberry shea?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

Three words he always said but did not seem to follow through on.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25

[farfromparker]

Anything angst with Tom!! Or several angst? I’m in such an angst mood. Silent treatment after a fight, fight before getting on a flight, you leave to get some fresh air after a fight and his reaction. Like could you do all 3?!

One too many times

Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: This isn’t the first time, and you can’t keep pretending everything is okay.

Warnings: general sadness but a fluffy ending because real life doesn’t always have happy endings, fiction should. 

A/N: This definitely got away from me! I hope you like it anon! 

Word Count: 2.1k

You’ve let it slide before, countless times because he’s only ever home for short periods of time. And you don’t want to spend the time you have together fighting. And you know he’s pulled in a million different directions between seeing friends and family and spending time with you and god just sleeping. He never sleeps well when he’s away. 

But he’s stood you up again. This time at your office Christmas party. After you’d spent so much time telling your work family about him, about how excited you were for them to meet him and vice versa. You’d texted him but noticed nothing was marked as delivered. You’d called and his voicemail would pick up immediately. His phone was dead and you had no idea where he was. You’d texted Harrison but they weren’t together. 

Harry didn’t know where he was either. He’d offered to head back to your house to check if Tom was there but you’d declined his offer. It was too late now anyway. So you spent the night making excuses for Tom. Putting on a smile when people gave you that look, that “oh honey” look. It was pity. 

When you get home, Harry is in the living room. You’re about to ask if he’s heard from Tom when you hear heavy, quick footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Y/n I’m so sorry.” Tom says, wrapping his arms around you as he hugs you from behind. 

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from spewing the normal It’s fine Tom with a smile and a kiss. Because it didn’t feel fine, it felt built up, laying heavy on your chest and you were starting to crack under the weight of it all. You press your lips into a thin line, tilting your head up to try and fight back tears. You can feel Harry’s eyes on you from the couch. And Tom is still waiting for you to say something, say the normal but you can’t. 

You unwrap Tom’s arms, taking a deep breath, “Night Harry,” you say. He returns it, smiling softly at you. There’s that look of pity again you’ve seen all night. You head upstairs quickly but Tom is right behind you. 

The light in your room is on and you move towards the dresser, digging out clothes to sleep in. 

Tom keeps repeating your name, “Hey,” he touches your arm to finally get you to look at him. He can see the tears brimming in your eyes when you do and he’s apologizing all over again. 

And what was he doing? Why did he stand you up? He was sleeping. That’s somehow the best and worst answer all in one. 

You don’t say anything though. You’re frustrated and angry and disappointed and you can have a quick temper, saying things in the moment that you don’t mean and you don’t want to do that now, not with Tom. Not when you’ve both got a flight tomorrow with his family for a Christmas vacation. Not when you love him so much. 

“Love, please, please just talk to me.” 

But you don’t. You lock yourself in the bathroom, and you know he’s right on the other side of the door so you cry quietly, turning the faucet on to try and drown your sobs. You get ready for bed as best you can, brushing your teeth and wiping your eyes. 

You spend more time than needed in there, trying to compose yourself. Looking at yourself in the mirror you can see how puffy your eyes are, there’s no way to hide you’ve been crying. One more deep breath and you open the door. He falls back slightly, having been sitting with his back against it. He gets up quickly, reaching for you again but you push him away. 

Clearing your throat, you steel your gaze at him, “I’m gonna sleep in the guest room.” 

“Baby, no, please, please don’t.” His voice cracks, “we never sleep apart, please.”

He’s pulling at you, pleading, trying to keep you from leaving your bedroom. He’s in your face and he’s crying and it’s all too much. 

“Tom, stop!”

Your voice is loud and it startles the both of you. Finally his hands fall away from you. You bite your tongue again. You can feel the venom in the words bubbling on your tongue. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He doesn’t say anything for once, swallowing harshly, and he lets you by. 

You both sleep like shit. 

You’re quiet in the morning, coming into your room to get ready for a long day of traveling. He looks at you when you first walk in, he’s hopeful, he wants to kiss you but you give him a tight lipped morning and his face falls. 

You brush your teeth next to each other like you do every morning when he’s home but you spend a majority of the time ignoring his gaze through the mirror. 

Nikki pulls up with the car about an hour later and she hugs you tight when you bring your suitcase down the steps. You have a feeling Tom filled her in on some of the situation and it’s hard not to break down again in her arms. 

Time at the airport moves exceeding quickly for once in your life. But the problem is you’re going to Fiji for Christmas. Fiji, a beautiful island, nothing but white sand beaches and crystal blue oceans. You’ve got three bungalows over the water rented out, you should be excited about the drinking and sun and sex you’re about to have in paradise. But you’re going to be traveling for 28 hours, seated next to Tom the whole way, and you can’t talk about this in public, on a plane of all fucking places. 

Luckily, he knows you can’t talk about it in public either. The first flight is eleven and a half hours. He’s somber throughout, offering you the snacks he has packed, let’s you know you can sleep on his shoulder if you want too. You do but you won’t. 

Three hours laying over in LAX and then you’re on to the next connection; another half a day flight. You get settled next to the window and just before Tom sits down next to you, you move the armrest, pushing it up against the seats. You see the smallest smile on his lips but don’t acknowledge it. Just because you miss him doesn’t mean you aren’t still mad. 

The plane’s barely reached flying altitude and he’s fidgeting, rubbing his hands on his thighs, squirming in his seat. He wants your attention. You roll your eyes, stuffing your ear buds in and turning the volume up. 

You close your eyes but you can still feel the dejection radiating off him and you groan, blindly reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh, “You’re a fucking child.” You mutter, half serious. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that he’s smiling. 

Finally, finally you land in Suva. The sun is shining, it’s warm and all you want to do is get in the ocean and wash the last 48 hours off your body. You changed into your bathing suit on the plane. Making sure all the ties stay hidden under your clothes. You have a feeling Tom isn’t going to give you much time to yourself before the flood gates open once you're alone. You want any advantage you can get. 

It’s a quick drive to the resort, and you’re chatting with Paddy. He’s so excited for snorkeling and diving and swimming and everything you can possibly do in the water. It’s hard for his excitement to not rub off on you. Tom’s playing with the hem of your shorts, bringing goosebumps to the surface. It’s really all your own fault. You let me in on the flight and you can’t shut him out now. 

Checking in is seamless and Tom takes the lead, grabbing your suitcase as well. Nikki and Dom break off into their suite. Sam, Harry and Paddy find theirs. Tom keeps walking though and you keep following. He’s booked the most seclusive bungalow for the two of you. Albeit so his family doesn’t hear the two of you fucking but now they won’t be able to hear the two of you fighting either. 

He opens the door, fumbling with the suitcases and stepping inside. You slide in behind him, briefly hearing the door slam shut. He’s saying something, you think it’s your name but you’ve already reached the sliding doors, pulling them open as you quickly strip out of your clothes. You can feel Tom, hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he approaches. Just as he’s reaching for you, you dive into the ocean. 

You swim beneath the surface, pushing your lungs to stay under longer, just another few feet. The water is perfectly warm and cool all at once. Waking your senses and numbing your mind. When you do break the surface, you inhale deeply, the sun shining on your face. The water out here isn’t all that deep, you can see the sand below your toes, maybe 2 feet below where you’re treading. 

You turn back to the bungalow and you can see Tom. He’s shirtless, in his bright blue trunks, sitting on the edge of your deck. His feet are dangling in the water. He’s watching you quietly. 

You dip below the surface once more, taking a final moment of silence for yourself before swimming back to him. 

You push yourself out of the water, sitting next to him on the deck, feet swinging alongside his. 

“I told everyone you were going to be there. I was excited to show you off, to kiss you under the mistletoe, to maybe get a little drunk and embarrass ourselves in front of my boss. Instead I spent the night making excuses for why you couldn’t be there because I didn’t know the real reason.” Your voice is level, laced with sadness but not anger. You’re proud of that. 

He’s staring at you, listening. And you stare out across the water. 

“The hard thing is, this isn’t the first time you’ve made me feel abandoned. I make plans for us, with my friends, with my family and you don’t follow through. And I know sometimes it’s work, and you work so hard. And I didn’t want to be that girlfriend, whiny and needy, when everyone deserves to spend time with you when you’re home. And you deserve time to yourself too. It’s my fault too, because instead of telling you how you made me feel the first time, I let it slide, bit my tongue and said it was fine, that I understood and I do! But I’m your girlfriend, Tom… and sometimes -” your voice breaks the tiniest bit. 

His fingers have laced with yours and he squeezes your hand, “Sometimes it feels like I’m only your girlfriend when it’s convenient for you.”

You’re crying again, salty tears mixing with the salt of the ocean across your cheeks. But your chest has never felt lighter. He reaches for you and for the first time in almost 2 days, you let him. He cups your cheek, turning your face to him. He’s crying too and he rubs his thumb along your cheek. “Y/n I’m so sorry. Fuck, god, I never want you to feel like that. You put up with so much of my shit. And I can’t even imagine how hard it is to date me. I’m a fucking mess.” 

A wet laugh slips past your lips and he squeezes your hand again.  

“But you do it perfectly, you’re so good to me y/n and I’m going to be better for you. I’m going to do this better. And please, don’t stop yourself from telling me how you feel, how I’m making you feel, especially not for my benefit. Slap me if I do it again.”

You smile at him, resting your head on his shoulder, knowing how sincere he is. How much he does love you. He’s just kind of an idiot sometimes. 

There’s knocking at your door and you can hear Harry yelling “y/n did you slap him and make up?” And you’re suddenly curious how long they’ve all been listening. “Come on,” Paddy whines, “I wanna go parasailing!”

You and Tom laugh, wiping the tears away as you stand. “We’re coming,” you shout back but Tom grabs your hand to stop you. 

“I haven’t kissed you in almost two days.” And he’s pulling you into his chest, “feels like an eternity.” He whispers, closing his eyes. 

You smirk, pealing yourself out of his grasp and pushing at his chest. You see the terror in his eyes and a very high pitched squeal leaves his lips as he hits the water. He comes to the surface quickly, flicking his head to get his wet curls out of his eyes. You’re laughing, crouching down on the deck as he stares back, stunned. 

“You’ve got a lot more making up to do, lover boy.”