could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had.
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales.
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment.
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think.
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous.
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy.
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath.
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug.
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap.
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair.
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought.
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other.
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it.
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument.
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys.
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy.
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to.
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes.
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head.
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw.
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap.
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt.
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper.
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock.
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too.
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers.
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud.
“Mark…”
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.”
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been.
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.”
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock.
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does.
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick.
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment.
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more.
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you.
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax.
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back.
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do.
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed.
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
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Training Part 2
Prompt: Enemies to Lovers type. You and Gibbs never got along, and luckily you never really had to work with each other…until now.
Part 1
It was entirely too early in the morning when you walked through the NCIS squad room with Fornell in front of you.
"Woah. Rough night Agent L/N?" DiNozzo jabbed, instantly pressing all the wrong buttons. You decided to bite your tongue this time and ignore him before seeing an opportunity to get back at him. As he handed some papers to McGee, you swiftly stole his seat and leaned back in it exaggeratively, while sipping on your fresh cup of coffee.
"Ha ha Agent L/N. Now get out of my seat."
"Make me Agent DiNozzo." You stared him down as his colleagues and Fornell watched, wondering what was going to happen next. He chuckled to himself and turned around as Gibbs walked in.
"Gibbs. Tell her to get out of my seat," he practically whined, making you snicker.
"Daddy Gibbs isn't going to help you DiNozzo," you ridiculed, catching the eye of said Agent as he took a seat at his desk. Choosing to give up, DiNozzo went to sit on the edge of Agent Bishop's desk. She didn't look too thrilled about it but didn't say anything.
"So you two interrogated Ramos and got a name, right?" Fornell asked, bringing the conversation to work.
"He's not talking. As soon as we brought up our Petty Officer, he closed up tighter than a clam," McGee answered.
"Let me at him. I'll get him talking," you offered, causing DiNozzo to snort.
"Well if we need you to shoot him, you'll be the first to know," he quipped.
You were about to snap on him but Gibbs saved his ass again by inturrupting.
"Fine. Agent L/N, you're with me. Tobias, Abby will fill you in on evidence findings we collected from the crime scene."
You left DiNozzo's chair and waited as Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge from the desk drawer.
"What about us, boss?" DiNozzo bellyached.
"You keep doing what you were doing DiNozzo. We'll be back."
As you passed the tall Agent, you made sure to give him a small shoulder check, silently laughing to yourself as he made a face. Maybe working with NCIS wasn't so bad. It was definitely entertaining.
- - - -
The drive to the bar you knew Ramos to frequent was quiet as neither one of you had anything to say. You turned the radio on to a pop station but it was shut off by Gibbs, making you huff and send him a glare.
Both you and Gibbs walked into the musty smelling bar and you immediately spotted Ramos sitting at a booth, back to you, drinking a pint of beer.
"What is your plan?" Gibbs asked, stopping you.
"Too do the job that your agents failed to do."
He sighed in annoyance as you led the way, sliding in to take a seat right next to Ramos as Gibbs sat across from him. Before he had a chance to leave, you pulled out your badge and showed him discreetly.
"Hey Ramos. I'm with the FBI and I believe you already know Agent Gibbs."
"I don't know what you plan on asking me that you haven't already. I don't know anything, remember?" he spoke confidently while taking a sip of his drink.
You looked over at Gibbs who just sat there, stoic expression on his face. Scooting in closer to Ramos, you leaned in by his ear as he visibly became uncomfortable.
"Oh I haven't interrogated you yet Ramos. See, Gibbs and his lackeys do it all by the book. Bring you in, sit you down in a room and ask a bunch of questions, then let you go. I prefer the simpler way. You come to this bar every Friday around 5pm, after working at the gas station. You play in their little pool tournament every month, and even have your picture posted up on the wall as champion. No, I'm not going to interrogate you. I'm gonna ask one question and if you cant answer said question, I'm gonna let everyone in this bar know that you're an official informant for the FBI. I could probably bet that there are a few questionable individuals here that would hate to hear that information, don't you think?"
A couple second went by as you waited for him to break. He licked his lips nervously, confidence now completely gone and his eyes looked to Gibbs who just shrugged.
"She doesn't work for me. I can't tell her what to do."
Another few seconds went by and you moved to stand up, but Ramos' hand shot out to stop you.
"Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"
You smirked and gave Agent Gibbs an arrogant wink.
"Tell me everything you know about the death of Petty Officer Killbourne. And please, the more details the better."
- - - -
Once you left the bar and got into the car, Gibbs laid into you.
"That's not the way you should've handled it in there."
"Oh yeah? Because your way was getting us soo far."
"We don't threaten people for answers Agent L/N. You can't be so negligent."
If he thought that was being negligent, he was delusional. You didn't do anything wrong and you actually got a lead on your case, something Gibbs couldn't say the same for himself.
"Negligent?! First of all Gibbs, it wasn't a threat. Second of all, my "negligence" got us a very important lead that will now help us continue our investigation and bring down this asshole. You might not like the way I do things but you're just gonna have to suck it up because I'm here until this is done."
He didn't reply back, but just started the car and drove back to the Navy Yard, you practically jumping out of the car once he parked. In the squad room, you didn't bother waiting for him before debriefing the team on your findings and talking with Fornell about arranging a sting operation. The rest of the day, you stayed as far from the silver haired agent as you could, only giving him one worded answers, if any, when he asked you a question.
He seemed to have the same mindset, acting as if you weren't there, never looking you in the eye, just in your direction. The entire team, including Fornell were uneasy but you weren't backing down.
It wasn't until you found out that Gibbs had his team follow a lead without looping you in that you lost it. The next time you saw him, he was getting into the elevator and you made damn sure to get there before it closed.
He visibly made a face of annoyance once you joined him and the doors shut behind you.
"Why wasn't I or Fornell informed about your team finding another lead?"
"I told Fornell," he answered presumptuously, not looking at you.
"Yeah, after you had McGee and Torres meet with our suspects dealers. Listen, if this is some pissing match to you-
He leaned over, flicking the emergency stop switch, causing the elevator to abruptly stop and closed in on you.
"This is about a dead Marine, Agent L/N. I'm not here to impress anyone, especially the FBI. If you want in on our investigation and leads, than start acting like a Federal Agent and less like an immature probie."
As he had you cornered, you finally saw the look that everyone talked about. The stare that could get even the hardest of criminals spilling the beans. But in that moment, you weren't scared. No, you were turned on.
You glanced away from his burning blue eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.
"And stop doing that," he warned.
"Doing what?"
He took a step closer, successfully trapping you against the wall and leaned in to growl in your ear.
"You know what you're doing Agent. I could feel how needy you were for me in the training room just like how I can feel it now. Do you do this with every agency you work with?"
Your breath got caught in your throat at his words and couldn't help but egg it on. You looked up at him as you let your fingers trail along his beltline, dangerously close to where you really wanted to touch.
"No, just you, funny enough," you whispered.
He reached up and gently grabbed your chin, brushing his thumb across your slightly open bottom lip. Your heart was racing as the tension continued to build.
"This is completely unprofessional," he stated, making you smirk.
"Than do something about it, Agent Gibbs."
He leaned in closer as if to kiss you but stopped and dropped his hand, backing off and flipping the emergency switch back on. You stood up straighter and took a breath, trying not to look like you weren't about to just get fucked in the elevator as Gibbs shifted his stance.
It did nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his pants and you smiled to yourself. Once the elevator doors opened to the Lab floor, you watched as he made a hard left turn for the bathroom as you continued on to Abby.
"Hey Gibbs- Oh, you're not Gibbs," she said, surprised.
"No, but he's right behind me. A little too much coffee I think," you hinted, making her smile.
"Yeah, that makes sense. Well, until he joins us, I'll just go over the new information I gathered about the murder weapon."
You listened to Abby talk and Gibbs joined a few minutes later, standing a bit closer to you than usual.
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— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ sweet tooth 。o♡⋆˚。⋆.
pairing: kim leehan x reader
summary: leehan teases you while you eat sweets^^
tags: 「SFW! fluff! uh... that's it | referring to members by real names e.g. donghyun, sanghyuk (it felt right) | kissing and cuddling from ur sweet crush leehan | reader has no gender! leehan loves everyone~」
word count: 1.4k
a/n: this is my first story on tumblr but im not new to writing stories online! (cough cough my abandoned wattpad cough cough) i decided to write this bc... i cant stop thinking abt leehan hjsjdkhw he's so dreamy... anyways,,, (also my first time writing in 3rd pov so... pls be kind><) i hope you enjoy!
+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal to no revisions
"can i have a stick?"
there's no way he would actually play this game with you, right? he has his own food sat on the arm rest of the end of your couch. you sit on the opposite end, facing towards him with a pocky stick half eaten in your hand.
"look at how many snacks you have, no way, these are mine!" you say as you finish the stick.
he took your comment harshly, as he started to flash his puppy dog eyes at you accompanied with a pouty frown.
what kim donghyun didnt realize was moments like these are one of the many things you liked most about him. the way his face is perfect in every emotion. how you melt everytime he smiles and shuts his eyes from laughing. the way he constantly pushes up his big glasses because he's really overdue for an eye checkup. how his hair is always the perfect length and the way it bounces, even when he takes the smallest steps... and his perfect puffy lips that pout out when he doesn't get his way.
"can i just have one, please!"
you thought he could never annoy you, but you're reaching your limit. you stare at him and chomp down another stick in seconds.
"mmmh! this chocolate tastes so good."
you closed your eyes in delight, showing donghyun he's really missing out on the snack.
your eyes widened at his sudden movement. he uses his pointer and thumb to lift your chin up, "and what would you do if i took a stick from your mouth?"
you can feel a light wave of pink start to appear on your face. you look away from his gaze, anything to not look embarrassing in front of your crush.
"there's no way you would do that," you can feel the box of pocky shake in your hand as donghyun grabs a piece from the bag.
"how about from my mouth instead?" he says as he lets go of your chin and places the stick in his mouth. he gives a slight smirk as he wiggles the stick slightly in between his teeth, waiting for you to respond.
was he flirting with you? this whole scenario seemed like a dream, how could he be teasing you so much at this time? did he get intel from your other friends? sanghyuk and jaehyun do tend to be chatty so it wouldn't be a surprise if they accidentally slipped your secret to donghyun.
he stopped your spiraling thoughts when he inched closer to you on your end of the couch. you were touching knees at this point. he got so close that the chocolate end of the stick was right in front of your lips. moving back any further would result in you folding your legs up to your chest, pressed against the arm of the couch in an uncomfortable position.
your body moved before your mind did. you quickly took a small bite of the stick in order to create more distance between you and him. the stick split perfectly down the middle. you never craved and hated chocolate so much in your life before.
you finally locked eyes with him again, only to find him eating the rest of the stick, smiling at the way he could easily make you flustered. the boys definitely told him something, there's no way.
he reached into your box again to grab another stick, this time he pointed the uncoated side of the stick to your mouth.
"ahhh," he said, wanting you to open your mouth, "my turn!"
you gave in once again, holding the stick lightly between your teeth, making it easy to move around. donghyun moved in close to the chocolate end, about to take a bite, but you had other plans. you quickly moved the stick to the side, making him open his eyes wide, shocked at your playfulness. he moved fast to try and catch the stick, but he wasn't faster than the movement from your mouth. it started to get more and more funny seeing him try to catch the stick. you both started to giggle and smile at the fun game at hand. the fun ended though when he finally caught the stick, and he was even closer to your face than expected.
there was about 3 inches of space between you two left, and the distance made you freeze. you can feel yourself burning up again. what were his intentions with you? was he teasing you because he was bored? or did he actually receive some knowledge about you liking him and this is him reciprocating?
your mind went blank when you saw him continue. he inched closer and closer to you, nibbling the stick until he was right in your face. you couldn't take it anymore. there had to have been at most a centimeter left of the stick, because you leaned in to catch the end of the stick and you felt your lips crashing harshly into his. you gave him a small, but impactful peck, and moved away quickly to see his reaction. he cupped his hand over his mouth, way to make the first kiss one you'd never forget.
"so youre the one who got to steal the first kiss, huh? you didn't have to give me a bruise though.."
"you wanted to kiss me first?"
"wasn't it obvious?"
you rubbed your thumb on his bottom lip signaling that you were sorry. you looked into his eyes again, both of your minds seemingly thinking the same things.
he placed his hand on your cheek to move your face back to his, meeting his lips once again. this time it was more passionate and slow. you both took your time feeling each crevice of each other's mouth. it started to get a little sloppy, you both couldn't believe this was actually happening, so the kiss turned into a rush of passion being exchanged. it was almost like this was the last kiss you both were going to experience, so you had to make it count. you finally got to feel his soft lips on yours, playing with his tongue as he moved your body closer to his. he started to let out little vocal breaths along with the existing panting from the both of you. hearing how much he was enjoying himself drove you to insanity. was he really as shy and aloof as you thought he always was? or does he know exactly what he wants and he's very good at hiding this side of himself from you?
you were the first one to pull away, a small line of saliva connected your lips, and you quickly pecked him to become disconnected. you stared at him in disbelief, trying to regain a normal heartbeat but light pants still filled the air.
"come here," donghyun propped one of his arms on the top of the couch, motioning for you to move next to him so you two could cuddle.
"did we really just kiss each other again?" you wanted to hear more affirmations from his mouth instead of the fantasy in your mind.
"yes darling, we just kissed."
darling? that pet name made your heartbeat rise up again, causing you to bury your face into his chest.
he started to hum quietly and pet your head softly, you dont know how much of this you can take. it felt like at any moment you were going to melt into a puddle. you started to calm down after a while, moving your arms around him, to hold him tight and never let go of this moment.
you heard a strange ruffled noise coming from the side of you, his arm around you acting like a shield to prevent you from looking. you heard tiny chomps of a familiar stick coming from his mouth. you collected yourself and looked up at his face, only to see a half eaten pocky stick in his mouth. once he locked eyes with you, he quickly ate the stick whole to try and hide the evidence.
you smiled and started to tease him again, "i told you those are my snacks!"
you tried to grab the box from him, but he was familiar with the game you showed him not too long ago. he moved very fast, and catching the box from his hands felt impossible. you both started to giggle again, wishing this perfect moment could last forever.
© nmn-yty ★
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