#THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST xx

[balfeys]

requested by Anon: Will you plz do a parallel of Athena on her car with the lights on (4x02) and Bobby on the fire truck with the lights on (promo for 8x03)?

[forlorn-crows]

mountain sitting on dews face

what r ur thots 👁👁

oh i have thots 👀

how about a lil modified 69 with these silly horny guys?

Mountain’s balls draw up for about the third time since he sat his ass on Dew’s face. He can’t help it, though, not really. Not when that hot mouth suctions to his rim and his delightfully wet tongue delves unnaturally far inside. 

His dick twitches, sending another drop of precum onto Dew’s clavicle. “Shit, sometimes I think just your tongue could make me cum,” he groans. 

Dew pulls away and grips his asscheeks hard. “It has, big guy.” The smirk in his voice is obvious, even when Mountain’s facing away from him.

“Ugh, I meant right now, asshole.”

“I’m already in—”

Dew squeaks as Mountain grabs hold of his little dick and squeezes. It drools a fat glob of precum onto his knuckles, pearly and thick. He kicks his feet against the blankets with an undignified whine.

Mountain just sighs. Strokes his thumb through the mess he’s already made. “Fuck, why’re you so cute.”

“You are suffocating my di-i-ick fucking fucker—” he wheezes. That thumb presses further into his slit, pushing down the sensitive foreskin and rubbing over the width of the head. Mountain’s slow and antagonizing with it, doing it over and over until Dew groans bodily, right into his hole. 

“Oh, Belial, do that again,” he gasps, mercifully releasing his dick. 

“How ‘bout you ask me nicely.”

Mountain scoffs. “Pleeaase moan into my ass again?”

“Uh uh. Try again,” he teases, spitting straight up into his hole and rubbing over it with the pad of his finger. 

“F-fuck—” 

“Come on, Mount, why don’t you kiss it a little? Where’s that sweet-talk, hm?” Dew rolls his hips to bounce his cock in the earth ghoul’s face where he’s crumbled to his elbows. 

He can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips. “Please. Wanna feel it,” he starts, genuine this time and much more needy. 

“I’m listening.” Dew’s tone gets softer too. He swirls around his hole, watches it clench. 

Mountain’s gasp fans hot over the head of Dew’s cock. “Gonna make you feel good so you moan and groan right into me.” He noses down the wet length and presses a kiss to the base. “Kiss you all sloppy here,” he mumbles. 

“Shit, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” His lips wrap around the side of his shaft, as promised, tongue darting out to lick at the veins. Mixing saliva into the streaks of slick. 

“Hnf, like that.” He bucks into it, balls bumping into the side of Mountain’s chin. “Fuck, sit down.” Dew digs his claws into his boney hips and forces him back onto his face, squarely onto his waiting tongue. Burying his nose between his cheeks. 

Mountain whimpers. He grips the inside of Dew’s thighs and spreads them open. Migrating from the side of his cock to swallow the whole thing down in one go.

“Ffuuu,” Dew moans right where it counts. The earth ghoul can only respond with a dumb, gurgled sound. It’s a vicious echo chamber of cause and effect, each of their actions spurring on the other in a self-imploding horny cycle. It only takes a few more minutes of impassioned attention to Mountain’s hole to get him close again, balls drawing up and mouth dragging down Dew’s dick until he’s panting into his taint. Mushy-brained and fumbling for words.

“Gonna—D-Dew,” he struggles, thighs crushing into the smaller ghoul’s ribs. Dew presses that spot inside him again—with only his tongue, how is that only his tongue?—and Mountain wheezes. His cock bobs back and forth between his stomach and Dew’s chest, splattering them both with precum that just won’t stop. 

Something that sounds vaguely like uh huh come on vibrates through his core, and that vocalization is what sends him over the edge, shooting onto the fire ghoul’s chest with a surprised shout. 

“Sh-h-hit,” he hisses against Dew’s skin, nose pressing tight to his little balls until he whimpers too. Mountain twitches through shudder after shudder. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling on Dew, but his brain’s too empty to care. 

“That’s it,” the fire ghoul coos, regaining his composure (and the upper hand). He rubs Mountain’s backside as he slowly goes limp, the bigger ghoul groaning louder when his cock finally makes contact with his own mess and grants him one last jolt of pleasure. Dew presses a kiss to his hole, tutting when it clenches. “Such a sensitive guy, aren’t you?”

Mountain gurgles something unintelligible. 

“Yeah you are.” Sadist that he is, Dew slips his pinky into that puffy, spit-coated hole, prodding until he hits the spot. Wringing a breathy, feminine moan from Mountain that he’d surely be embarrassed about, if it weren’t for all of his self-consciousness shooting out of his dick along with his load. 

He tuts again. “Be a fuckin’ shame to waste this nice wet ass, wouldn’t it?”

Mountain chirps, a questioning noise that’s almost comical, like a single question mark popping up above  his head. 

Dew smacks his ass. “Shove up, big boy, it’s my dick’s turn to be inside that tight hole.”

[bruisedboys]

steve rogers blurb tonight perhaps 😛

[readwritealldayallnight]

‘Really really weird request, I know’

‘But could you please pick up a pregnancy test or two on your way home?’

‘I’ll explain when you’re here xx’

Gaz and Soap’s heads turn towards the sound of their Lieutenant dropping his phone to the floor.

“All good there, LT?” Gaz asks, watching as Ghost stands apparently stupefied to the spot where he stands, still staring at his empty hand where his phone had been.

“Look like you’ve seen a Ghost.” The Scot snickers to himself, earning an eye roll and a half-hearted swat to the chest from his fellow Sergeant.

Ghost finally snaps himself out of his shocked daze, grabbing his phone off the ground and silently sprinting out the door in the blink of an eye.

By the time he’s made it to his front door, a shopping bag carrying two of each brand of pregnancy test he could find at the closest shop dangling from his fist, Ghost is scrambling to get his key in the lock and find you wherever you are in the flat.

The normally ever so stoic man finds himself struggling with the mundane task, his mind in a frenzy over the idea of there being a baby inside you. A baby he put inside you.

It seems you’ve been just as eager for his return home, because you hear him at the door, unlocking and swinging it open for him.

“Oh thank god you’re here. She’s been a wreck all morning, hasn’t let me leave her to run to the shop myself.” You blabber, standing up on your tippy toes to quickly press a kiss to his still mask covered cheek, snatching the bag from his hand at the same time.

He is standing there stunned, when he spots who he recognizes as your best friend sitting on the couch in the living room, surrounded by wadded up tissues, obviously appearing as though she had just been crying.

“What-”

“She’s worried it’s her ex boyfriend. From before they had broken up.” You whisper quickly in his ear, thinking that you’re simply catching him up to speed as to why he had to go and fetch a test for your friend to use.

Unbeknownst to you, you’ve turned Simon’s world upside down for the second time today, all in less than a half hour.

As he watches you walk towards your friend with the dozens of tests in hand, he wonders if he can’t stash away a few for the two of you to put to use yourselves.

[berryfairyluvr]

hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

sylus and his princess (queen) treatment

pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader

warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories

a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3

With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.

He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.

You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.

You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.

You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why, he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”

He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.

He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.

He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)

You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.

His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.

That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.

This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.

Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.

this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look

He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.

Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)

For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.

His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..

read zayne’s version here

read caleb’s version here

requests open ❤︎

[visforvengeance]

Where did you sleep last night?

Requested by: no one :)

Notes: hey y’all lmao. Sinners brought me out of retirement like I knew it would. I did post this on AO3 if you’ve already read it lmao so please don’t come at me. Anyway I need Michael in a room in which there are no others…or you could all watch I don’t give a shit🫦. I do have one for stack in the works!! Coming very soon xx

Warnings: cursing ofc, sex. I think that’s it. My sympathies if I didn’t get everything. But as always read at your own risk!!

Stack x reader

You heard him before you saw him, Stack. Always loud, always smooth talking. The twins were back in the Delta, and you hadn’t heard not one word about it. You’d think it’d get back to you considering the history between you and Smoke before he left…and when he left.

You turned the corner to where the train was, and there he stood in all his glory. He was almost still the same boy from before, but colder. You knew of all the things those boys did because you were right there beside them, as much as they tried to protect you from it. Yours and Mary’s mama had been kind enough to raise them up after theirs died. Raised them with their own daughters, like their own sons.

But, something happened, and then your first kiss was with Smoke in the dead of the night. And then more happened later on. There had been just too much between you, but he still up and left anyway.

You stomped over to him angrily.

“Where’s that sorry ass brother of yours?”

He turned to you, not surprised at all to see you.

“Well, hello to you. ‘Long time no see! How have you been?’

‘Great, thank you for asking.’”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled him into a much-needed hug. You enjoyed his embrace for a minute, rubbing his back. Then, you whispered,

“I missed your dumb ass.”

He chuckled as he pulled away

He took a long, hard look at you, really seeing you after all these years. You’re a grown woman now, not some annoying ass little girl that his brother used to chase after when they were younger. He missed you. And he knows for sure that his brother does too. Smoke had been with countless women during his time in Chicago, no doubt. But none of them compares to you.

“He’s at our new spot,” gold teeth and pearly whites on display. The boys always did have such beautiful smiles.

“Whatchu talkin’ about, boy?”

“You know that old sawmill down by the way,” you nodded

“Consider it under new management. Club Juke is now open.”

You didn’t know whether to be proud or slap that stupid ass smile off of his face. Ten years, you ain’t seen or heard not a word from these motherfuckers and now they’re here opening a juke joint?

You shook your head and removed yourself from Stack’s arms, stomping to your car. Mary had accompanied him with a different version of the same argument. Stack knew that his brother was in for it with how hot the fire in your eyes burned. You were hot. Hotter than this Mississippi heat, hotter than the devil’s wrath.

You walked inside of the old, rundown building. They’d already begun setting up, gathering the old crew. The smell of Annie’s fried catfish filled the place. Sammie was on stage, strumming his guitar lazily. Grace talked with Annie while she cooked.

It almost felt like home again. Almost.

Smoke walked out of the office to see a ghost in the shape of you standing at the entrance of his establishment. Smoke was always stoic, perfectly motionless. Until he saw you. No, he couldn’t let his resolve crumble completely when he saw you. But, he did let you see the softness only a select few could muster in the only way he knew how.

His eyes. Always his eyes. Emotions swirling around like a tornado. He knew how you felt after he left; he studied you well enough to expect it. But was he prepared to face his consequences? A man who stood so tall, so fearless. Even in the face of death, he stoically stood his ground.

But seeing you here right now had him scared to breathe. Luckily, no one paid attention to the two of you. They knew better. You walked up to him. No words were spoken between the two of you, but the looks on your faces said a lot.

You walked past him and into the back room, and he followed closely behind. When the two of you were alone, you spoke up.

“Ten years. No goodbye. No letters. Nothing. Then I see Stack hanging by the train with Slim. Come to find out, you boys done opened yourselves up a juke joint.”

Silence again, this time he wasn’t looking at you.

“No hello. No ‘I missed you’. When was you gon come see me, Elijah?”

You were losing your cool. How could he just stand there?

“Could you fucking say something?” You never yelled. Loud and boisterous, of course. But, damn it you never yelled. He didn’t flinch, though. He finally looked at you.

“What the fuck do I look like coming to you after I just shot my own damn daddy? Hmm?” He got in your face, he towered over you. But that didn’t scare you. He never did, no matter how frightening or threatening he tried to be. It never worked on you, and it will not now.

“How was you gon help us? Cry to ya mama? Wait. I know. You was gon get that sheriff granddaddy of yours, huh?” He laughed. He didn’t know what else to do so he fucking laughed.

“That’s not fair, and you know it. I would’ve helped you the best way I could. But, you shut me out and made that decision for me!”

Yes, you were young. You absolutely should not have been involved in the shit that you were. But you were in love. And so was he. Still, you both are. So, what do two fucking idiots do when they’re in love? They hold onto each other as tightly as fate will allow.

“Smoke, you never did give me the benefit of the doubt. Why do you think no one came looking for you two for all those years? Even now? With the case being unsolved?”

There is no statute of limitations on murder after all..

“But, even after all of that. I didn’t deserve to know that you were leaving?”

All of this fucking silence. You couldn’t stand it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tightly. He wasted no time wrapping himself back around you. You held each other so close and tightly, you’d think you were killing each other.

You stayed that way until the obvious question couldn’t be ignored anymore.

“Why you back here? Now of all times?”

Too much shit had happened in the time that he was gone. Clearly none of it was enough to bring him back.

“Missed it. We wanted something of our own and thought home would be the best place to do it,” he was avoiding looking at you. He did that when there was something he didn’t want to say to you. It was almost shocking to see him still so childlike in this moment.

“Elijah Moore, you hated this place with every fiber of your being. Why are you here?”

It was weird hearing his own name. He’d been Smoke for so long, Elijah almost felt like a stranger to him. But, hearing you say it made him remember exactly who Elijah Moore was. And, he was yours.

“I love you too much.”

Now he was finally looking at you. Still so vulnerable and childlike. For such a short sentence, it was beyond loaded. Somehow, you understood everything Smoke couldn’t express to you because he didn’t know how.

You couldn’t help but kiss him. It was messy, rough, all teeth and bite. His hands roamed all over your body, squeezing and gripping at whatever he could like a starving man. A starved man he was. He turned you around and pressed you against the desk.

“I missed you too much,”

His lips left kisses on your neck and a haze in your brain. You missed him, too, more than anything. You turned and pushed him back into the chair that was behind him.

“You think you gon come back after all these years fuck me like it’s nothing?” You moved to straddle his waist, pulling him into another heated kiss. His hands gripped at the fat of your ass and thighs, kneading them like dough.

He pressed you into him further, making you grind against his cock, causing the both of you to moan. He didn’t intend for you to keep grinding, though. “I’m a big girl now, Smoke. Let me show ya.”

Somehow, the two of you ended up on the floor with your clothes thrown about. You were still on top of him. Lips kissing over every scar and mark that littered Elijah’s body.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you mumbled against his skin. You sat up straight to look at him.

“Never did a day go by when I didn’t think of you. I love.” Then, you began moving your hips. You hadn’t had sex with him in 10 years, but it was even better than before. You traded feeling the pain of splinters in your knees for the warming pain of Smoke���s cock splitting you open.

Smoke was quiet, aside from the occasional groan he let out. His eyes raked over your body. He watched the way your breasts bounced with your movement. They were bigger, not that he minded either way. Your body was softer than before, too. More to grab on to, more to hold on to, more to love.

None of the girls he’d been with (not that there were very many. They were not you and it started to piss him off eventually) compared to you in the slightest. They didn’t smell or taste like you. Definitely didn’t feel as good as you.

Now he felt like he finally knew what was missing. He’d been chasing something he’d left for 10 years.

The eye contact between you two had not wavered the entire time you’d been riding him. There was still so much that neither of you had said, but in this moment, you understood everything. He let you see the vulnerability, lust, regret, the ache he’d had the moment he left you and how it had stayed with him until he was back with you again.

You nodded to him, telling him that it was ok. It was ok to just feel in this moment with you. In which he did. He’d been holding back on cumming in you for both of your sakes and his masculinity. But that thought had passed as he released deep inside of you.

Still hard, he flipped the two of you over in missionary. Now, it was his turn to focus on your pleasure. He pounded into you heavy and rough, and you took it, like you always did. Between your moans, the skin slapping, the fucking wet sounds your pussy made. It was safe to say that you were NOT quiet. But the music that was being played and the overcrowding voices silenced you splendidly.

Once again, the two of you were locking eyes. Him fucking you knocked the breath out of you completely, but this was what you wanted. And needed. Because Elijah was back. And, maybe what the two of you had could continue. And, it goes well. Or it doesn’t. Neither of you fucking cared. Because at that moment, it was just the two of you again.

He wasn’t leaving you again. Not even through the hellish nights you’re bound to encounter.

[gothlcsan]

SWEETEST TASTE ›› 희승

Tipsy bold confessions lead to more than what typical best friends would do together. You learn more about one another, more than you’ve ever imagined before, maybe more than you’re able to handle.

pairing ⸝⸝ lee heeseung 𝑥 fem!reader ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𓄵 feat ⸝⸝ other enhypen members - non sexually

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ smut, idol!heeseung, some fluff, lots of smut..

warnings ⸝⸝ lost of hee’s virginity, drinking, tipsy sex and confessions, teasing, pet names, crying, soft and rough sex, cursing, hee likes to be called sir, messy kissing, so. much. kissing, cum eating, facials, breeding

I apologize if I miss any warnings !

𝒮torm’s note ⸝⸝ six months later and i finally finished this fic.. ㅜㅜ writers block had me in a head lock.. but i’m glad to finally get this published and out of my drafts! this is slightly all over the place (my apologies) but i hope you can enjoy nonetheless ~ xx

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ﴾ 6.3k ﴿ ╱ ﴾ m. list ﴿

𓂃⋆.˚ all feedback and reblogs are welcomed 𓏲𝄢

“Drink up!” Sunoo excitedly shouted at you, all while dramatically throwing your head back with a groan as you hand your glass towards him to refill.

“This is so unfair you know I'm absolutely horrible with these types of games. When’s the last time I've even won?”

Sunoo only shrugs at you with a smug smile, watching as you wait for them to finish counting back from ten before taking your shot, tipping your head back to ensure none spills down yourself. The soju thankfully goes down smoothly (or maybe that’s only possible due to you already beginning to feel a bit tipsy by this point), inhaling sharply between your teeth with squinted eyes. You hated drinking games not because they weren’t fun, you always had a great time, you just absolutely sucked at winning.

“You ok?”

Turning your head you face Heeseung, taking note of his own face starting to form a faint shade of red from drinking, his lips curled up into a soft smile that makes your stomach twist. Nodding in response to his question, he mouths “good” whilst patting the back of your head with his hand a few times before you come to reality, sheepishly turning your head to face away from him. Growing thankful for the tipsy glow on your cheeks masking the blush that was without a doubt starting to blossom in its place. Sitting beside Heeseung had meant you were directly next to your longtime best friend and lifelong crush, internally groaning at the fact you were a victim of the cliche best friend to crush trope, anxiously picking at your tights trying your absolute best to focus on the drunken conversation taking place. Jake was taking love shots with Jay, a dare most likely mischievously curated and requested by no other than Sunoo, the two grown men screaming comically as they pulled away from each other like school children.

Lifting up from your chair at the table, you lean forward just enough to grab a piece of fried chicken with your chopsticks, successfully completing your mission and going to sit back down. The difference in your seat makes you stand back up surprised, looking over behind your shoulder to see that you’ve completely missed your chair altogether and had sat down directly onto Heeseung’s lap. Embarrassment struck you to the core instantly, feeling your face grow hot as you began profusely apologizing quickly trying to explain yourself. Heeseung looked at you with a raised brow, you could easily tell he wasn’t upset or truthfully even close to being bothered, Heeseung shifting in his chair as he not so subtly looked you up and down.

“It’s ok, baby, sit where you’d like.”

Heeseung said that so casually yet still with a clear hint of teasing laced at the end, guiding you back down onto his lap with two hands placed on either side of your hips. The other guys groan begging for the two of you not to be gross, Heeseung quickly tells them to shut up as he returns all of his focus back onto you. He asks if you’re enjoying your night, his randomly timed small talk makes you giggle, nodding. Telling him that it’s nice to be able to come visit at the dorm since they’re not working and overly busy. He smiles huge at that, better securing you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around your waist. Having you now facing him, your legs over to the side, your mouth going dry, Heeseung’s looks being something you’d never be able to familiarize yourself with properly. He was beyond more than handsome.

“You mean that?”

“Why wouldn’t I,” you questioned Heeseung, placing your hands onto his brightly flushed cheeks, your cold hands bringing him comfort.

“Mm,” he hummed. “It’s nice to hear that you miss me.”

You blush again, trying what you can to look away, anywhere but his face, however he brings you back with a finger under your chin, your breath catching in your throat. Drunk Heeseung was bold and it was making you want more, asking him exactly what he was doing.

“Looking at you, you’re really pretty.”

“You’re such a bully, it’s not funny to make fun like this, you know.”

Heeseung gives you a puzzled look as if you said something unimaginable to him. “Making fun of you?”

“You know,” you paused to carefully collect your thoughts to the best of your abilities whilst being this tipsy, “jokingly flirting with me in front of everyone?”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow yet says nothing audible, simply removing you quietly from his lap as he goes to stand up. Worry pricks at your stomach thinking that you’ve accidentally offended him by what’ve you said to him, opening your mouth to apologize but you’re cut off before being able to properly do so.

“Hee,” you squealed as he lifted you up, praying your dress hadn't ridden up and given everyone a glimpse of what was underneath. The other members' drunken cries of playful disgust and teasing are ignored by Heeseung (doing your best to ignore them yourself by burying your face into his chest) as he carries you to his bedroom, pushing the door closed with his foot before turning to make his way to the bed. Gently he drops you onto the mattress, a tiny gasp leaving from your lips as you make contact, pulling the hem of your dress down to protect your modesty.

He stared at you in silence for a moment, an embarrassed smile paired with an awkward laugh escaping from you.

“What, Hee?”

Once again he doesn’t say anything, making his way closer to you, knee bent so that it sits perfectly in place between your legs against the mattress. Pulling you to sit up, he brushes the few strands of hair out of your face. His face was a mere centimeters away from yours by this point, your breath hitched as you became frozen still, anticipating what Heeseung was planning. This was unlike Heeseung, who’s always never purposely crossed any lines over the best friend relationship you two shared, your stomach turning into knots out of confusion but mostly excitement mixed with curiosity. He moves which makes you gasp, his mouth so close to your ear that his breath fanned your neck, your mind thinking what his lips would feel like against your neck, causing you to squeeze your thighs together around his knee - that action not going unnoticed by Heeseung who chuckles amused but pleased.

“I really want to touch you, may I?”

The request floats around your head before you nod, letting out a whine as you give Heeseung audible permission to do so.

“Please, please touch me.”

Heeseung doesn’t hesitate longer than he has to, his large hands wrapping around the plush flesh of your thighs while his mouth crashes into yours. It’s messy, the alcohol bitter against your tongue as his tongue slips alongside yours. He seems eager, hungry even, which only excited you more than anything wondering how long you both had painfully waited for this very moment to happen. The sound of ripping fabric brings your attention away from the kiss, pulling back to look down, seeing Heeseung has ripped apart your tights leaving your thighs exposed to him.

“Sorry,” he said softly, his smile evident he was in fact not sorry, but you couldn’t get out a response as he looked down then back up at you.

“Although it doesn’t seem to bother you, hm?”

You turn red with embarrassment knowing the wet patch on your panties grew from that question laced with taunting. The dress has failed to stay down, the fabric bunched up around your hips, unable to close your thighs with how he was positioned. He repeated his question, looking into his eyes, gasping as he rips the tights further, your panties becoming his main view. Your mind goes fuzzy, whimpering in response when he pressed his fingers up against the very evident wet patch. Need pricked every nerve in the entirety of your body, subtly shaking as Heeseung removed himself away from under your dress.

“Heeseung, please this is cruel,” you whined, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles at your desperation finding it amusing how quickly you grew impatient, kissing at your neck. The way his lips brushed and kissed your neck felt better than anything you could have imagined. Sighing contentedly as you mumbled his name under your breath, his grip on you tightening in response. Nevertheless Heeseung had no intention of furthering this just yet, teasing you to what seemed that had no clear end. Every subtle brush of his lips moving down your throat made you clench around nothing, drawing in your breath simultaneously as he pressed the pad of his thumb hard flushed against your clit over your panties, instinctively moving your hand up to curl your fingers into the baby hairs that adorned the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he trailed off as you tugged at his hair, Heeseung dipping his face back into the crook of your neck leaving wet open mouth kisses in it’s wake. Trailing down your throat he makes his way down to your collarbones, delving his tongue into your clavicle as he kisses the area leaving small red hickeys. He guides you to lay down on your back, his knee pushing into your pussy causing you to moan from the added pressure, pulling him away from your chest and back into a kiss. It’s not as messy as the previous kiss, this one more heated as the two of you grew handsy. Heeseung lets out a strained moan that brings a smirk to your lips, breaking the kiss to peek down at your hand that was palming him through his pants. His erection grew (a fact that made your head dizzy with just finding out he was already sizeable while soft) Heeseung guiding you back to regain eye contact, his eyes hooded with need. You weren’t much better, wanting or more so needing him, giving him a few slow strokes over his pants, trying your hardest to form a coherent sentence.

“Do you have a condom,” you asked breathlessly between a few shared kisses. Heeseung nods, leaning over away from you to reach over to his nightstand, opening the top drawer to his bedside table, pulling a small box of condoms out. He cutely fumbled with the box as he opened it, picking one from out the box. You watch as he begins ripping it open carefully, moving back to you. Heat runs over you in massive waves watching Heeseung intensely as he strips himself down until he’s wearing nothing. He teases you as he pulls off your dress, your panties not lasting much long after that, the thin fabric torn and discarded absent-mindedly somewhere onto the bedroom floor. Sitting up to rest on his knees, you watch as Heeseung rolls the condom on, visibly shaking from the sensation, rolling his head to the side as he tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. The sight makes your stomach burn with lust, looking up at him. He grabs a pillow guiding it to be tucked under your hips, maneuvering your legs so that he can fit between them easier. A shudder runs down your spine as he rubs himself against your pussy, pushing the head of his dick through your folds but not giving either of you the satisfaction of easing himself in, this drawing a needy whimper from deep within you. Heeseung takes his time with you, continuing his slow pace of rubbing against you whilst filling out the bedroom with the lewd sounds of your pussy growing wetter for him alongside your desperate noises.

“Hee,” you cut yourself off to gather both yourself and your thoughts, swallowing hard before continuing, “please, I need more. I need you.” The last bit of your sentence is trailed off from your head lulling to the side, whining growing desperate by the millisecond not knowing how much more teasing you could put up with by this point.

At first Heeseung seems to hesitate but it’s clear as day that he’s equally as desperate, although not saying anything as he begins repositioning himself so that he can kiss up your neck to your cheeks. Whimpering softly with scrunched eyes as he lines himself back up before ultimately slipping into you, your fingers curling around his biceps asking him to wait, needing a moment shocked once again by the sheer size of his dick.

“Sorry, fuck, wow,” Heeseung rambles, his voice shaky as he halts his movements to allow you a moment to grow comfortable. Giving him a few squeezes around him in an attempt to familiarize yourself to his size, you take a final deep breath and nod, giving him the go ahead to continue. Pulling back his hips he groans loudly when he pushes back in, feeling your walls clench so beautifully around him with each slow thrust. It didn’t take much more than a few minutes before the impatientness grew in your limbs, begging Heeseung to fuck you, needy whines ripping out of you until he picked up speed. His thrusts were messy and ever so slightly uncoordinated as his thighs slammed into yours, the skin reddening with impact but you loved every second of it making sure to vocalize your thoughts. Heeseung leans down and assaults your throat with his mouth, his lips kissing it whilst his teeth mark you as his. Heeseung’s possessiveness being exposed by his need to mark you, mumbling under his breath that you were his. The slightest change of position deepens his thrusts making your eyes squeeze shut tight, swearing under your breath, reaching up so that your nails dig into his arm. Mumbling something into your neck that you’re unable to make out, the two of you in an impatient frenzy not caring to stop and repeat yourselves. You questioned if the members could hear the two of you, slightly embarrassed by how loud you were being but your thoughts were casted aside as Heeseung pulled completely out of you. It makes you whine in annoyance, frantically searching for his thigh with your hands, digging your nails into the soft skin wondering why he removed himself from you in the first place.

“Why, please,” you pant feverishly between each word, Heeseung seemingly finding it amusing how desperate you were whilst questioning him. He roughly pushes himself back into you, your head tipped back with wide eyes, back lifted up into an arch. You were completely under his command by this point, allowing him to bring your legs together and over to the side so that his thrusts could reach much deeper. The pleasure is slightly unbearable, unsure what to do, burying your face into one of the other pillows on Heeseung’s bed, moans being muffled. Having you on your side, Heeseung lands a rather firm slap across your ass, making you yelp in surprise, removing yourself from the pillow and glaring at him.

“Don’t hide your pretty face from me.”

You stare at him in silence, your mind fuzzing around the edges growing dumb, receiving another slap that lands directly in the same spot, clenching your teeth in an odd mixture of pain and satisfaction.

“Yes, Sir,” you whine, falling back into the pillows, staring at his proud expression knowing that he had you completely under his control. The nickname snapping something in Heeseung, arching your back as his fingers press fingertip sized bruises into your soft skin. His movements grew intense, more coordinated, his nails moving to dig into your ankle. The lewd sounds of your skin connecting with his made you wetter, gasping as Heeseung threw your legs open, manhandling you to lay flat onto your back. With an arm on either side of your head, he leans forward so that his face hovers over yours, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. He looked gorgeous, part of his bangs hanging down, his lips swollen red, eyes knitted together as he focused on solely making you feel good. Heeseung groaned when he leaned even closer, finding himself kissing your chest then slowly back up to reconnect with your lips. He was growing feverish which was evident from how he couldn’t seem to focus on just one area of your body to kiss, his speech slurred as he grew drunk from the prior alcohol he consumed and now from you.

“Fuck, feels so good, I’m going to die,” Heeseung rambled near incoherently into the crook of your neck. Feeling as his wet hot tongue lap at your skin made your toes curl, instinctively reaching a hand over to pull at his hair. Your mind was growing fuzzier, no longer in control of your own body nor even your own actions as you pulled him impossibly closer to yourself, fingers tangled tightly in Heeseung’s hair to lock him into a kiss. The way in his tongue worked alongside your own made you feel savage, insane, locking your shaky legs around his torso. His thrusts were now growing faster as his thighs tightened and convulsed, tightening the grip around your waist with his large hands.

A loud groan erupted from Heeseung’s throat, muffled by your heated kiss as he cummed into the condom. His eyes are closely knit together as he continues to fuck into you despite having reaching his orgasm, determined to have you cum around him. The fire in your stomach was growing unbearable, your body lifting into an arch but ensuring your legs kept tight around his body as you cum hard around Heeseung, your eyes blown open as you became flush with the bed. He doesn’t pull out just yet, holding himself up weakly by his forearms to not crush you, the both of you trying to catch your breath before looking at each other.

“I always wanted to do this,” Heeseung said with a smirk, taking a deep breath as he swore, pulling out slowly. With shaky hands he carefully pulls and ties off the condom, discarding it into the trash can then returning back to bed with you. He seems a bit lost at first but he quickly recovers coming to help you out of bed so you’re able to use the bathroom, Heeseung spewing about utis to which you ignored, telling him to please stop talking so you could focus.

Placing your head against his stomach as you used the bathroom, you told him he talked too much, Heeseung giving you a little laugh in return.

“Harsh words coming from the person who took my virginity.”

Your eyes widened, shooting to sit up straight ignoring the slight pain in your lower back as you looked at him in pure shock and disbelief, making him flinch slightly in surprise.

“Heeseung. Do not joke like that with me.”

“I’m not joking, I mean, you did just take my virginity.”

Your hand slaps against your mouth, eyes shaking as you shake your head still in disbelief from this new found information. Heeseung nods with a smirk that you knew meant he was telling the truth (as well as being cocky, he knew he did you good - definitely had you convinced he wasn’t a virgin). You had just taken his virginity, a fact you simply couldn’t begin to wrap your head around. You suddenly felt sober, too sober, tears pricking your eyes as you tilted your head down feeling immensely shameful. Confused and equally as concerned, Heeseung crouches down and places a hand under your chin to raise your head up.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, doing his best to sound calm despite feeling utterly confused.

Shaking your head in an attempt for him to leave your side, Heeseung stands firmly in his position, asking you once more. Lifting your head up to look at him, your bottom lip trembles as you speak, more tears threatening to fall given if you spoke too much more.

“I didn’t know you were still a virgin, I wouldn’t have come onto you like I had.”

Heeseung looks hurt, then softens his expression, petting the side of your head until his thumb is able to comfortably brush away the tears that had stained your cheeks.

“How can you feel sorry for something I initiated, hm?”

You tried to open your mouth to reply but it only made the urge to cry worse, shaking your head once more as you buried your face into his chest as he crouched down to comfort you better. There wasn’t a good way for you to explain to Heeseung why you felt guilty taking his virginity, not wanting to come off the wrong way and causing an even bigger misunderstanding. He allows you to cry until you can’t anymore, wiping the tears off your face with his fingers, before asking again why you felt apologetic for something he had so clearly orchestrated in the first place.

“Had I known you were a virgin I would’ve made it special for you, I can’t believe I ruined your first time the way I have.” You trail off into word vomit, Heeseung cutting you off successfully with a kiss, his hand holding you still by the back of your neck. Heeseung didn’t want you overthinking (or thinking at all at this point - which was more than successful) due to him not sharing the status of his virginity, pulling away watching as the weak strand of saliva that connected the two of you broke.

“I wanted this, more than you’re prepared to know, ok? I don’t need cliche first time with flowers and you whispering sweet things into my ear,” Heeseung said, tucking some loose hair behind your ear. His voice was calming as equally as it was convincing, he made you feel less guilty about the situation that you blew up in your head, giving him a faint “ok” alongside a head nod. He plants one last kiss onto the crown of your head before heading to walk back to the bedroom, telling you to finish up and he will meet you back there with warm clothes and a movie. Smiling as he closes the bathroom door behind him, you lift yourself onto shaky legs (a byproduct from sex and sitting on the toilet for an ungodly amount of time) you bite your knuckle as you work on cleaning yourself up, overly sensitive from earlier. The overstimulation unlocks something in your brain, allowing a breathy moan to escape from the depths of your throat, any innocent or guilt ridden thought being put onto the back burner. Washing and drying your hands with a clean towel you open the bathroom door to walk back into the bedroom, seeing a now clothed Heeseung sitting in bed with his back against the headboard. He lights up when he sees you, offering an oversized pair of shorts and one of his shirts that you already knew you’d be swimming in. Ignoring his offer (much to his confusion) you climb into bed, crawling the short distance until you’re practically on his lap, kissing his neck.

“What are you doing,” he questioned with an amused tone, his hand sneaking its way to your backside, swatting his hand away which surprises him. Sitting up you smugly smile at him, messing with the band to his shorts but not doing anything beyond that. It was thrilling watching as he hitched his breath just to sigh in annoyance when you teased with your silence and the possibility of furthering your flirty touches. Your hand makes its way back to his shorts, this time exceeding past the band. Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat in surprise, watching your hand travel down the entirety of his dick before traveling back up in painfully slow strokes. His bangs hang in his face, tilted forward too focused on how your hand felt around him to think much of anything else, growing needier in every aspect. Twisting your wrist, Heeseung's eyes blow wide, a strangled moan erupting from him that took the both of you by surprise.

“You liked that, hm?” You taunted, giving the head of his dick another firm squeeze. Heeseung doesn’t respond with coherent sentences, reduced to whines and tiny pathetic mumbling begging for more. It’s not what you're looking for, removing your hand from him, ignoring his defeated sounds asking what you were doing. With a snap of your fingers you demand him to take off his shorts, he seems to hesitate for a mere millisecond but frantically moves to remove them. A triumphant smile reaches your lips telling him he’s a good boy for obeying you without a fight. The praise rushes from his ears down to his exposed dick an erection now in full view for you to tease him with. Taking it back into your hand, you push your thumb pad into the soft slit of his dick, watching him twitch under your hand.

“I’ll take that as a clear yes then.”

Heeseung’s mind felt fuzzy, this new sensation growing almost unbearable as he let his head fall back against the headboard.

“Please,” he groaned, a bubble in his throat popping as he tried to keep himself grounded. His face is flushed a bright rosy red, sweat starting to form on his brow, mumbling over himself. Your thumb moving back and forth is in a lazy, unfocused, movement wanting to continue listening to Heeseung’s desperation.

“Fuck, please, baby,” Heeseung groans, his voice deep and raspy, wrapping a shaky hand around the wrist that was torturing his dick. His eyes shook whilst the corners collected overwhelmed tears, desperately seeking more. Still, you wanted to test his patience a hint more, repositioning yourself so you laid flat on your stomach. Locking in eye contact, you have Heeseung gasping from a few kittenish licks against the head of his dick. He mumbles something along the lines of this being pure torture smirking to yourself before you break eye contact, wrapping your lips around the tip, tongue swirling around just directly underneath the head. Heeseung makes a humming sound in the back of his throat, his fingers finding their way to your hair, raking through it once before curling the digits near the back of your head. Keeping his grip firm, you groan deep in your throat as his hold on you causes a few tugs if you lean forward too much. Pulling back so Heeseung was no longer in your mouth leaves Heeseung swearing under his breath. He knew you were purposely torturing him. Heat flooding his senses.

“Please,” Heeseung’s voice is raspy, barely above a whisper but the clear desperation and need dripping off his lips brings heat flooding to your stomach. With a click of your tongue you lean back down to where his dick laid heavy on his lower abdomen, wrapping a hand around the base to guide it to your mouth - coating it with a generous amount of spit using your hand to stroke the base. Moving to take the tip of Heeseung’s dick back into your mouth, swirling your tongue, taking more little by little. Once you’ve fully taken what you can, you swallow around Heeseung who tightens their grip on your hair, a loud moan erupting from their chest.

“Such a good girl for me, made to simply take my dick.”

His filthy words make you pool in between your legs, clenching around nothing in hopes of helping with how badly your clit ached. Heeseung used the hand gripping your hair to help guide you

with bobbing on his dick, calling you a messy eater once drool and saliva dripped from your sloppy lips. Initially you had wanted to be the one in control but that plan had been long forgotten, eyes rolled back into your skull with Heeseung losing any prior restrants now fully fucking up into your mouth with messy thrusts. It was overwhelmingly harsh breathing through your nose, tears starting to roll down mixing with the spit on your cheeks and lips.

“Fuck, yeah just like that baby, keep making me feel good.” Heeseung moans, a chuckle of disbelief rolling off his lips. He couldn’t believe how the two of you had gotten to this moment, the girl of his dreams a drooly dumb mess on his dick. A fire built in the pit of Heeseung’s stomach grew uncontrollable, his head tipping forward with furrowed brows, a sharp moan from him as he cums hard. The grip on your hair makes it impossible for you to pull away having to swallow Heeseung’s load to ensure you don’t choke, eyebrows scrunched together at the warm cum soaking your throat. With the hand still wrapped tight around your hair, Heeseung pulls you off, a wet mixture of spit and cum dripping down your chin, the thin strings of saliva connecting you to his dick breaking and coating you both. It was gross but Heeseung twitched at the sight, letting your hair go to use his fingers to swipe a bit of the mixture off your lips before then having you suck the digits clean, praising you for being so obedient.

Your mind is nothing but mush by this point, drunkenly smiling up at Heeseung who pets your hair to lay back flat out of your face, bringing you up by your arm to initiate a kiss. It’s wet, grossly sticky, as he tastes himself off your tongue. Something about it makes him moan against your lips, guiding you to straddle his lap, snaking a hand down to hold your hip. Your tongues work in perfect harmony, a gasp being swallowed by Heeseung as he lands a harsh slap against your bare ass. He leaves no time for you to collect yourself as his fingers are teasing your wet pussy, spreading the folds apart allowing his middle finger to tease and prod at your eager hole. You’re greedy trying to lean back so that it’ll slip in but Heeseung is stronger keeping you in place with the hand on the back of your neck, whining into his mouth about wanting him. A blush across your face when he asked you to repeat yourself, to beg if you wanted it that badly. To which you do, leaning into his chest, licking and nipping his ear lobe.

“Fuck me, please? Want you to fill me up, make me yours.”

“Unless,” you leave a pause, smirking as you whisper into his ear. “I should ask one of your friends to come fuck me for you.”

That's more than enough for Heeseung to angrily stuff his fingers into your wet pussy, the hand on the back of your neck tightening leaving you gasping. Heeseung wasn’t no longer the sweet man from earlier, his fingers scissoring you open as he demanded you to tell him who you belonged to, rough slaps against your ass when you took too long to respond. You were his. Squealing as he corrected your behavior by removing his fingers, manhandling you so that you were on your stomach, legs tucked underneath you. There’s no build up, Heeseung pushing himself into you harshly, mounting you until he has you into a mating press. He was going to ensure you never thought about another man again, his thrust making you come in contact with the headboard, tears forming in your eyes making your vision blur.

“Hee,” you cry out, nails digging into the sheets, tears starting to fall and roll down your flushed cheeks.

Heeseung leans forward so that his body weight traps you underneath him, he pushes your hair out of his way, biting roughly into your shoulder. It makes you scream, begging him to slow down, Heeseung responding with a laugh.

“Going to remind you that you’re mine, train this pussy to only cum if I am the reason. You understand?”

“Yes-,” you let out an animalistic whine, Heeseung pulling you into a headlock, forcing you to stare at the mirror directly to your right.

“Try again.”

“Sir, yes Sir,” you whimper when he calls you his good girl earning a kiss on your cheek as he continues to fuck into you with growing speed. Your pussy was red, bruised, hungrily swallowing Heeseung like the greedy whore you were for him. Your second orgasm was dangerously near, something snapping in you as Heeseung added the slightest bit of pressure in the chokehold, squeezing around him in response. Heat flooded into your abdomen and inner thighs, begging him to let you go, saying you needed to use the bathroom. He ignores your pleas, sobbing uncontrollably now as your body gives out, squirting around Heeseung’s dick with a shrill scream being fucked out of you. He doesn’t slow down as he chases his own orgasm, your sensitive walls being abused by your best friend, whimpering nonsense into the sheets as you watch yourself in the mirror.

Feeling Heeseung’s thighs start to shake and convulse, your eyes roll sweetly back into your skull as he cums hard into you, body going limp having to catch himself with a shaky arm to not crush you. He doesn’t pull out just yet, guiding you along with him so that he’s next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath. Neither of you say anything for a while until Heeseung presses small kisses into your shoulder blade, shakily gasping as he pulls out, having you turn over to face him. He calls you pretty which earns a laugh, humming happily when he cups your face into his hand, pulling you into a slower kiss. It’s sweet, romantic, butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach as Heeseung pulls away, playing with the ends of your hair.

“How do you feel?”

“Sore,” you chuckle, giving him a kiss. “Otherwise, really, really good.”

His free hand is massaging your hip, fingers digging into your skin making soft content hums come from you.

“Let’s get a shower and head to bed, yeah?”

Stealing a peek at the time it was well past six in the morning now, your eyes widening is disbelief. Heeseung laughs at your shocked expression, helping you off the bed and towards the bathroom on shaky legs. Landing a playful slap across your ass, you stumble, the two of you laughing as Heeseung grabs you in a panic to help stabilize you.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, kissing your cheek as he opened the bathroom door.

“Slapping me when I already can’t walk? You’re shameless.”

“It’s not my fault that I have a pretty girlfriend.”

Heeseung had said it so casually you nearly didn’t catch it, the two of you freezing before looking at one another. His cheeks were bright red, you could feel yours warming up as well, but not to the extreme degree he currently was. At first he goes to open his mouth, apologize for calling you his girlfriend when you weren’t, but something in him stopped him. He wasn’t sorry for calling you that, he wanted you to be his girlfriend, wrapping his hands around the base of your jaw, kissing you. The two of you didn’t need words to know what that kiss meant, Heeseung guiding you towards the sink, lifting you to sit on the cool marble. The contrast of the cool sink against your warm skin causes you to jump, giggling into Heeseung’s mouth who giggled along with you. His hands slowly slide down to comfortably rest on your waist, Heeseung pulling back to look at you, the held eye contact and comfortable silence making the butterflies in your stomach dance.

“So, is it okay to assume you’re my girlfriend?”

Heeseung asked this while tucking your hair behind your ear, a smile on his lips.

“Wow, not even going to ask me out? After I took your virginity and all.”

A laugh bellows out of Heeseung, who nods, stepping away to open the bathroom door, peering into the bedroom watching as Heeseung goes to the bedroom’s door now. He sticks his head out just enough so he wouldn’t accidentally flash either of you.

“Just so everyone knows, she’s my girlfriend now!” Heeseung yells into the hallway, hearing the sound of bottles clinking together and a rather loud, “fucking finally!” Assuming it was Jay. Slamming the door behind him, you laugh watching Heeseung walk back into the bathroom, humming happily when he stops in front of you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You’re insane,” you laughed, a clear smile across your face expressing how you felt perfectly. Heeseung nods, a smile on his own face, giving you several small pecks agaisnt your lips.

“Yeah but you like it. My, pretty, girlfriend.”

“I do, I really do. I love you.”

Those three words bring a blush to creep up your neck to your face, giggling watching Heeseung’s expressions. He brings you into another romantic kiss, his actions soft and full of passion. He goes to slip his fingers into you but you stop him, telling him you were sore and desperately wanting a shower. He makes a joke about using the shower for another round calling him a feral beast, Heeseung laughing hard as he helps you off the sink and into the shower. He’s respectfully helping you shower without making it an excuse to initiate another round, helping dry your hair afterwards so you don’t catch a cold.

Once the both of you are ready to climb into bed, thankfully with clean sheets and comforters, you nuzzle your face into Heeseung’s chest. He smells like ocean air and sandalwood, the warmth radiating off him blanketing you in sleepy comfort. His hands fall into a repetitive rhythm of rubbing your back, your eyes starting to struggle to stay open.

“Hee,” you softly whispered, Heeseung giving you a quiet, “hm?”

You lift your head up, your eyes moving from his eyes to his lips, back up, before moving your head back to its previous position.

“I love you.”

“I love you most,” Heeseung said, wrapping you closer to him if that was even humanly possible.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. Not taking very long for you two to fall asleep, curled up in each other's arms. Happily content and thankful for your inability to win drinking games.

[heesimp]

tasty (heeseung)

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count: 5.6K

notes: based off of this request. thank you anon! I probably won’t open a taglist at this time but I’ll let you know if I do when I post other fics. XX

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” 

Your co-workers stare at you while you try to push down any simmer irritation. They’re not to blame, but pestering you to go out to a bar and get drunk when all you want to do is go home, is making you even more irritated. They mean no harm and look at you with sorry eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you tell them. Luckily for you, they nod and accept your decline. “Thanks for the invite though.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” 

In typical twenty-something-year-old fashion, certain days feel longer than most. Today is no exception. It’s hard to navigate the woes of landing on your feet when you’re wrapped up in midterm projects and trying to have a social life without throwing yourself off balance. When the semester started, you were nothing other than a happy-go-lucky, fourth-year university student who was excited to finish college and take the first step towards “real life.” Unfortunately for you, your days would get tough before you’d see it to the finish line. 

The ride back to your apartment isn’t long by any means but the traffic from your job at a convenience store was met with rush hour. The bus took much longer than usual but you always anticipate that when you’re scheduled until 5pm. Everybody’s going home at the same time and even public transportation falls victim to the hustle and bustle of corporate life. 

On your way home, you can’t help but linger on the inconveniences of the recent past. Midterms have snuck up on you like they do every year and no amount of studying into the night could ever prepare you for the stress that comes with obsessing over good grades for five separate classes. It kills you that no two tests weigh the same and preparing for projects feels like you’re signing a death sentence. You’ve barely seen your friends aside from in passing and haven’t had any time to take care of yourself and have fun. 

It feels as though you’ve lost all motivation because school and work has sucked the energy right out of you. Even your best friend, Lee Heeseung, has started to soften up around you because he can tell how stressed you are. If anything, the amount of unread texts from him and your absence in his physical life is a telltale sign that school is kicking your ass, but he knows you always bounce back. You know you will too, but right now it feels like it’ll take too long to get there. 

The first thing you do is take all of your clothes off and settle them in the dirty hamper and take a shower, cleaning off the grime from a long day outside of your bedroom. Your hair is clean and your skin feels silk to the touch when you step out and dry yourself. It takes a great deal of effort to follow through on your skincare routine and tidy up your room so that it doesn’t feel like an overwhelming mess the more you look at it. Today sucked. There’s no doubt about that. 

Eventually, the clock turns into a late hour after you’ve had dinner and a sweet treat to make up for the awfully long and boring day you had. The week drains on you and you’re looking forward to the weekend because that means you don’t have to work. After settling in bed with the television on, you try your best to let your worries escape you and focus on what’s in front of you. 

Whether the show is too boring or you’re too worked up, you don’t know. The TV is long forgotten as you aimlessly scroll through your phone and start pushing your thighs together and clench around absolutely nothing when you log into a Twitter account you don’t post on. It must be out of habit to act like this when you see the familiar username because it’s where you keep your porn stash for when you need to get off. There’s everything you could ever want–short videos, photos, and links to other websites that always gets you off. The long day has made you think about how you need at least a single win in order for this week to not completely suck. Bringing yourself to orgasm might be the way to do it. 

You spread your legs underneath the covers and take a finger to tease up your slit that’s covered by your panties and hold your phone in your free hand, using your thumb to scroll past the plethora of videos that turn you on. It’s all about finding the right one, and seeing big dicks and wet pussies makes you worked up. You start to forget about the week and consider that a good start. 

Moving your finger against your covered pussy always makes you wet. You imagine it’s someone else teasing you the way you like it and pretend you don’t need to move a muscle to get off. Swiping the tips of your fingers back and forth makes you soak through the pathetic fabric anyway, and the excitement of your arousal makes you gush right onto your panties. 

You scroll through them one by one and pull your panties to the side to feel just how wet you’ve become and moan quietly as the feeling of your slicked up walls. Pushing a finger inside, the welcomed sensation is exactly what you needed after a hard week. You add two, then three, and pump them in and out of you with your legs bent towards your chest. It should be an easy orgasm. 

Except, it isn’t. Three of your own fingers isn’t enough.

At this rate, you don’t know how long you’ve been rutting your hips but what you do know is that you can’t seem to get yourself off with just your fingers. Pulling them out makes you wince at the loss and you force yourself off of your bed to find your trusty vibrator that has always served you when you need to get off quickly. You dig for it in the depths of your drawers but, to your dismay, the device is uncharged. You’re far too worked up to wait for it to become usable. You crawl into your bed again and angrily look through your phone at the porn in your bookmarks and try to get yourself back to that state of euphoria when you started touching yourself, but knowing too much is bothering you is preventing you from letting go. 

Your room echoes as you groan in frustration when your eyes land on a photo on your desk. It’s a picture of you and Heeseung that Jay took when the three of you hung out together after you first moved into this apartment. The two of them helped move boxes and furniture, and you rewarded them with a free meal from the noodle shop across the street. Heeseung sits next to you with his thighs pressed against yours because of the small table but neither of you really cared. 

That’s the thing, though. Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.” He hears you whisper it into the phone. 

“Did I hear you correct? You can’t get yourself off?” Heeseung curses under his breath and his hands have stopped typing on his keyboard completely. Frustration pushes tears to the rim of your eyes. 

“I can’t.” Your voice wavers like you’re about to choke a sob. “I just want to cum, Heeseung.”

You don’t see it, but he disconnects his video game connection without consulting his friends. He sits back in his seat and brings the phone off speaker mode and pushes it to his ear. “Y/N…Have you been touching yourself?”

“Yes. I don’t know why but I’m in this mental block and I can’t focus on anything. Nothing is helping.” 

He chokes. “What do you mean?”

“My vibrator is dead and I’ve been using three fingers but it’s not helping!” 

Heeseung sits quietly on the other line. “Are you touching yourself now?” 

“No,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it for an hour and I can’t finish.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You must be so wet.” 

“Not anymore.” You say it through your teeth, too upset that your high has ebbed away.

“You should start touching yourself again.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Touch yourself and make your pussy all wet.” It’s concerning how much you like hearing your best friend talk to you like this. But you do, putting your phone on speaker and putting it on the mattress beneath you with your hand caressing your pussy. You don’t know if it’s you, Heeseung, or the notion that you’re crossing a bridge, but your spine starts to tingle. Your touch is as light as a feather.

“Are you doing it?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Really good…”

“How good?” 

“Feels like someone else is touching me,” you tell Heeseung. “If I close my eyes, I can pretend it’s someone else.”

“It’s not enough, is it?” 

“No, Hee. I just…I’m so frustrated.” 

“Yeah, baby?” He’ll address that nickname later. “Why are you frustrated?” 

“School and work are stressing me out and nobody in my group projects lifts a finger. I feel so alone in this.”

“But you aren’t alone. You have me, remember?” You get wetter the more he talks. It feels wrong to be turned on by Heeseung’s voice but you can't help it. He’s talking to you like he hears the way your voice quivers and how badly you need somebody to take away all of your pain, and perhaps you feel comforted because you know Heesueng will do just that and always had. Your fingers rub your wetness around your bare mound the more you think about it, pushing aside any guilt or awkwardness you initially felt.

“When have I ever not been there for you? Never, baby. Including this.” 

“This?” 

He chuckles. “Yeah. Helping you cum.” 

“Hee, don’t say that.” 

“Why? It’s true. Best friends help each other cum.” 

“How are you gonna help me do that?” 

It’s silent on the other line for a long pause and your heart starts to sink when you think you might’ve crossed a line. Is he uncomfortable? Does he want to hang up and forget about this? Will he ever look at you the same way after tonight? 

“Keep touching yourself. I’m coming over.” 

Your eyes widen. “N-Now?” 

“Yes, now. I live five minutes from you. I’ll be over soon.” 

The thought of Heeseung coming over makes you impossibly wet. It’s been so long since you’ve let anybody touch you the way you’d like after failed hook ups that left you unsatisfied. Your bedroom suddenly feels warmer and your arousal keeps your fingers slick the more you rub against your pussy. It makes your toes clench and you’re starting to get excited again. 

“Please hurry, Hee. My fingers are starting to get sore.” 

“I’ll be there in two. Don’t hang up.”

“F-Fuck,” you whimper silently. Heeseung’s phone picks up your moan and you hear him let out a low groan when he turns his engine on. 

“You have the sexiest moans. I wanna hear them while you get yourself off, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

You rub your pussy faster. “Yes, Hee. Fuck, I’m so wet. This feels so good.”

“Be a good baby and play with your clit a little for me, hm? Get her all nice and prepped.” 

You do as he says, moving the pads of your fingers in circular motions around your engorged nub when he tells you. Your eyes close shut when that jolt of pleasure makes your body jerk and arch off of the bed and that loud sound emitting from the back of your throat makes Heeseung hum in approval. 

“Juuust like that. Fuck, you sounds even better than I imagined. You’re a vocal one, huh?” 

“Only when it feels really good.”

“Yeah? Do you feel really good?” 

You lick your lips. “It would feel better if you were here.” Heeseung laughs. 

“I’m here and I’ve got your spare key. Keep fucking yourself for me.” 

The call ends there. You hear the door opening and part of you considers using your blanket to cover yourself up because in all of the years you’ve been friends with Heeseung, he has never seen you this indecent. It feels a bit humiliating to know your best friend will find you with your fingers rubbing against yourself while your hips chase that delicious pleasure but ultimately, you can’t find it in yourself to care too deeply about that. 

Heeseung’s footsteps alert you to his presence and you’re pleasantly surprised to see him standing in the threshold of your bedroom after he’s opened your doorknob. His black hair covers his eyes as he catches his breath, and it looks like he ran up the two floors just to get to your apartment quicker than an elevator could take him. He’s hesitant when he walks inside until his eyes lock with yours. Your next moan comes from deep within your chest and Heeseung wastes absolutely no time. 

He lands on his knees and pulls your body towards the edge of the bed. Your scent invades his olfactory senses as he looks down below you, pushing your feeble hand away to admire the mess you’ve made of yourself. It should feel embarrassing to have your best friend look at you like this, but it doesn’t. Your heart beats faster the more Heeseung’s eyes scan your wet pussy and before you know it, his mouth latches onto you. 

The feeling of someone’s tongue shoved deep within you is a feeling you haven’t experienced in a long time. Heeseung kneads your thighs with his hands as he keeps you in place and the pace he sets makes your body feel like it might as well be up in space. 

You hear stories all the time about Heeseung hooking up with other girls whether it be from himself or others. Girls love to pretend to be your friend to get close to him and love to talk about these kinds of things with you because they assume you’re getting in on the action too, only to leave the conversation perplexed when you tell them you and Heeseung have never gotten involved like that. But now, with every bit of information about how he slurps pussy like he needs it to live, you’re starting to wonder why you never asked him to do this before tonight. 

“Tasty,” he mutters after a beat of silence. Your hand comes to grip his hair for stability when he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks on it while rubbing his tongue against your pleasure point. “How come you never told me you taste so good?”

“You never asked.” 

He laughs against your pussy. “Still got some attitude, huh?” 

“What are you gonna do about it?” He looks up at you like he’s weighing a challenge. 

“If you were any other girl, I’d pull out every time you’re about to cum. I’d have you begging for that shit. If you were somebody else, I’d stuff your mouth with my cock until you learn how to obey.” He licks up your pussy once more before adding two of his fingers inside, moaning at your smooth and wet walls as he pumps them inside of you. “But you’re my best friend and you’ve had a hard week. I’m gonna make you cum.” 

If a thousand suns exploding feels like Heeseung’s tongue and fingers working in tandem with each other, then this is a feeling you never want to forget. They work separately but it feels like he’s pushing you closer and closer to the finish line the more he pays attention to your clit and g-spot at the same time, pressing on that little button the more you whine and aimlessly beg for him to let you cum. You can barely register your own voice moaning because the pressure is too much against your ears. Heeseung’s fingers plunge in and out of you at a pace that is somewhere between gentle and brutal, giving you enough force to take your mind off of the stress from the week to focus on your pussy being pleasured. 

You screw your eyes shut when you can feel that coil unraveling. Heeseung seems to notice that too because of the string of moans you let out when he pushes his fingers against your sweet spot. His mouth licks and licks as his hand pushes your wetness right against his tongue and it doesn’t take very long for him to taste your cum. 

Heeseung’s head disappears between your legs and he’s barely able to move his hand because of how tight your thighs are against his ears. He’s always loved your thighs and legs, and loves them even more now that he knows what it feels like when you suffocate him as he licks up your delicious cum. You ease up on him when he pries them away to free his hand from the uncomfortable position and uses both hands to keep your legs apart as he licks up the remnants of your cum and helps you ride out your orgasm until your chest falls against the mattress. 

He wipes the back of his hands before giving your slit a gentle kiss. “You’re so sexy when you cum.”

“I can’t believe I let you do that.” 

“Why?” 

You watch him crawl up your body between your spread legs. “Because…” 

“Because?” 

“You’re my best friend and we’ve seen each other through everything. Don’t you think this is a little, I don’t know, weird?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head and dips below to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Not weird. In fact, I’d argue we should do this more often.”

You frown. “I don’t intend to be somebody you keep on a roster, Lee. You can keep that shit to yourself, but thank you for helping me cum.” Heeseung laughs against your mouth until you feel his lips ghost right over yours. 

“There won’t be other girls involved if we fuck, Y/N. I’m not heartless like that. Everybody else knows I’m in it for sex and nothing else, but it’s like you said. You’re my best friend. I won’t make you feel like you’re just somebody I can hit up.” 

“So this would be like…friends with benefits?” 

“We can work out the semantics later.” He lets his lips touch yours and when you don’t object, Heeseung opens your mouth with his own and you taste the saltiness of your cum on his lips. You clench around nothing when you hear your mouths smacking together in the quiet of your bedroom. 

It feels…good. It doesn’t feel out of place, even though this is the first time you’ve kissed Heeseung. You haven’t thought about it much either, but somehow his lips fit perfectly in yours and his soft hands holding your body in his adds to your arousal. You feel safe with him at this moment and it’s the first time you’ve ever had sex with somebody who hasn’t made you feel like an afterthought. Your mind feels a bit foggy but you know you like this feeling and don’t want him to stop. Still, you have your worries.

“This won’t be weird, will it?” 

“No, baby. In fact, all you had to do was ask me to drop the other girls and I would’ve.” You roll your eyes. 

“Sounds like you’re in love with me, or something.” 

Heeseung pulls away and smiles down at you. “Yeah. Or something.” You ignore the way your heart flutters and realize his bulge is poking your bare pussy. 

“You’re hard.” 

“So you’ve noticed.” 

You pinch his bicep. “You get hard eating pussy?” 

“Well yeah because it’s pussy, but it’s also you.” You start to talk but Heeseung silences you with a kiss. “Are you satisfied now that I’ve made you cum?” 

His vulgar words make you shy underneath his gaze all of a sudden. It’s a new feeling and you’re not quite sure how to navigate it, especially with the way he’s staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. Heeseung is still your best friend who gives you shit for everything. You suppose you’re grateful that he’s not changing who he is just because he knows what you look like naked. 

“You know what? Actually, I don’t think I’m satisfied.” 

Heeseung grins wickedly and pulls his body off of your chest to take his shirt off, his chiseled muscles on display for you to look at. He grabs your hand and places it on his abdomen. “Oh yeah? What else can I do for you, princess?”

You take your fingernails on his skin and feel his abs move beneath you. “I think I need you inside me too.”

“Were my mouth and fingers not enough?” You shake your head. Heeseung tuts as he gets off of the bed to step out of his pants and boxers, revealing a long and thick cock you’ve only ever heard about. It’s dripping with precum and you can’t stop your pussy from clenching or your mouth from drooling. 

You watch him get back on the bed one knee at a time before he’s hovering over you again, pulling your body to the position he wants as your legs spread before him. He looks down at his cock and tugs on it twice before letting his tip rest against your clit. 

“Need some of my cock?” 

“Yes, yes!”

“Who knew my best friend has such a tight pussy. Makes me wonder why I even bothered with other girls in the first place.” You seem to like hearing that. He brings his fingers to push the head of his cock inside of you before sinking halfway in, allowing you to adjust to his size as you squeeze him. “Oh yeah, honey. This pussy’s gonna make me cum hard, I already know that.” 

Heeseung holds your legs open and pushes his hips into you slowly. The drag feels so good with how warm he’s made you and you can feel him throbbing with every pass. You hold onto your breasts for stability, which seems to turn him on even more because he’s pushing your legs towards your chest and pushing into you with all of his might. 

You’re able to see him from where you lie. His eyebrows concentrate as he squeezes his eyes shut and sweat lines his forehead the more he thrusts inside of you. He sits up on his knees to angle his dick inside of you better and moans when you let out a strangled groan. The clench is so tight and amazing, and Heeseung can’t fathom why he’s never fucked you before tonight. 

“Sexy pussy,” he grunts, looking down at your abused hole as he thrusts into it. He brings his thumb to your clit and you yelp when he starts to rub it. “So wet and fuckable.” 

“Fuck me,” you manage to choke. 

And truthfully, you like Heeseung plowing into you at the pace he’s set. He’s not too fast but not too slow and you can feel him hit your cervix every single time. It’s no wonder girls were always lining up to have sex with him. Heeseung knows what he’s doing with his dick and you’re finding that out now. 

“You want me to fuck you?”

You nod pathetically. “Please fuck me.”

“How hard?” You bite your lip and shake your head at the humiliation of begging for him but Heeseung tuts and smacks your clit with his hand. “I said, how hard?”

“So hard that I feel you in my stomach!”

“Atta girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Heeseung slips out of you and pulls you up on your hands and knees, beckoning your back in a deep arch. He plants both of his feet on the mattress and bends until he’s sinking his cock back down inside of your pussy, letting your mixed wetness coat him again. 

He thrusts himself as his mouth hangs open. Heeseung grips your waist with both hands and squeezes you hard to balance himself as he throws his head back at the phenomenal sensation of your walls pulling him in every time he tries to pull out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his balls against you and clutch into your bedsheets.

“Your balls are slapping against my pussy and it feels really good,” you manage to get out without stuttering. Heeseung feels you clench around him again and emphasizes his thrusts until the sound of his balls makes your ears vibrate. 

“Feels good when it hits your clit, doesn’t it?”

“So good, fuck!” 

Heeseung speeds his thrusts and relishes in your string of moans the more his tip nudges your g-spot. “Can you cum, baby? Cum around my cock like I know you want to. You’ve earned it after this week. Cum for me. Won’t you let me feel that?”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Hee! I’m fucking cumming!”

“Yeahhh. Oh your cum is so good. Doing so well, making your pussy creamy all over me like that. Cum for me.”

And it feels so good that you follow his command. The orgasm Heeseung’s cock brings you feels like a physical manifestation of letting go of your worries and enjoying the present moment. Despite your legs and pussy aching, this feels an awful lot like freedom because your own mind isn’t caged by the inability to get yourself off. 

You don’t think, you can’t think. You’ve reached a point of nirvana that’s made your mind completely blank with the exception of your orgasm and the feeling of your best friend fucking right inside of you. His cock, so hard and warm, somehow feels so perfect lodged inside of you. 

Heeseung cock twitches and you feel it the more he pounds into you. He looks down and moans at the sight of his cock becoming white with your cum with every pointed thrust and doesn’t remember the last time he truly enjoyed himself to the point of being able to forget about everything except the person he’s with. Sex with other girls is incredible but there comes a point where he realizes that they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. But you, his best friend since he can remember, give him some kind of peace that he’s never felt before. This is more than just a quick fuck, even if neither of you address it.

“Your pussy’s gonna make me cum,” he moans through a choked grunt. “You feel so good baby, fuck.” 

Heeseung pulls out of your hole just enough to rest his tip against you. His warm cum floods against your folds and your body jerks at the way he twitches against you, but his hands keep hold of your hips to place you exactly where he wants you. He looks down to watch his cum spill from his slit and paint your pussy like the artwork that it is.

When he’s finished cumming, Heeseung leans back against his knees to spread you apart by gripping your asscheeks. “Would you look at that?” 

“Stop looking…”

He chuckles. “Why, baby? Your pussy’s so pretty with my cum on it.” 

You look back at him. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” He nods at you before pulling away to scour your room until he finds a box of tissues on your nightstand and grabs a few to clean you up to the best of his ability before cleaning himself up too. 

Overcome with a wave of tiredness, your body feels much more relaxed once you’ve slipped underneath the covers as Heeseung throws away the dirty tissues. He turns around when he hears the blankets ruffling and resists the urge to coo at you when you’ve tucked it underneath your chin. 

“Looks like you needed one good fuck to relax, hm?”

You blush. “Shut up.”

“No can do, Y/N.”

“I…”

Heeseung leans down towards you and tilts his head. “You what?”

You avert his gaze. “I liked it when you called me baby.” 

“Yeah?” He pushes some of your hair back as you yawn. “I can do that.” 

“Are you gonna go home?”

“Not if you let me stay the night.” You don't have it in you to talk back to him after all he’s done for you. Instead, you open the covers as Heeseung puts his boxers back on and watch him smile before climbing in next to you. “Come here.” He tucks your body on his chest and you’re too tired to argue with him. 

His heartbeat puts you to sleep.

tagging: @zara2318 @markmato @heechwe @horijiro @ggumjilgeong-yjn @porunarefuu @leov3rse. :)

[plutoslastwords]

I love ur baby Norris fic smmmm

Can you do one where she gets hurt or smth and Oscar is there to help her and he is the only one she wants to look after her xx

bring your kid to work day (gone wrong)

lando norris x daughter!reader, oscar piastri x norris!daughter!reader

summary: baby norris has an accident when visiting the mtc, who will she listen to? not her dad!

warnings: slight description of a broken wrist

w/c: 1.9k

a/n: ahh tysm for requesting! i hope you like it 😁 thank you everyone for so much love on lost and found <3 keep the requests coming!

~~~

Unfortunately, children were not technically allowed at the Mclaren Technology Centre. To make matters worse, the only random uni student Lando had found willing to look after his daughter for 8 hours for the next few days had cancelled. It didn’t help that Max F, Lando’s only friend currently living in London, was in Brazil either.

Therefore, Lando had no choice but to take you to the MTC with him, making special arrangements with Zak and Andrea that you’d be on your best behaviour, you were an angel! (Most of the time..)

That brings us to now, you are strapped in the backseat of Lando’s car, in your booster seat, as he drives to the MTC, babbling excitedly about what you’re going to do today. 

“Gonna see Osc, Daddy!” you squeal, evidencing your adoration for the Aussie driver, who for some reason you’ve been completely attached to since the moment he joined the team. It's quite strange if you think about it, the quiet, reserved Australian and the hyperactive, excitable 3 year old, but he too is very fond of you.

“Yeah, baby, you gonna give him a big hug?” Lando coos at your excitement, he finds it endearing how much you love Oscar, and it also gives him an excuse to put babysitting duties onto his teammate.

You nod rapidly in response to his question, then completely forgetting about Oscar and going on to chatter about something that had happened at nursery a couple days prior.

Soon enough, Lando pulls his car into the MTC’s carpack, jumping out and coming round to unbuckle you and haul you into his arms, giving you a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You gonna be Daddy’s good girl, angel?” He asks as he walks into the building, bouncing you gently in his arms.

“Yes daddy!” You cheer in excitement, you were ecstatic to be able to visit your daddy’s work, your tiny face plastered with a massive grin.

“My best girl..” He murmurs as he greets some people with a small nod, making a beeline for his office, where you’ll stay whilst he works. He plops you down on the sofa that he has, grabbing your iPad from his bag and putting on a movie for you to watch.

“Okay baby, Daddy’s just going to go to a meeting, I won’t be long, if you need anything then Zak’s office is just next door, I love you my darling.” Too engrossed in your movie to speak, you simply nod and wave at him as he leaves.

In normal circumstances, Lando would never leave you completely by yourself for an extended period of time, but these were dire circumstances and he trusted that he knew enough people at Mclaren who would look out for you if you decided to pull an escaping act.

After about 20 minutes of watching your movie, you got bored, you had already seen this one before, and the songs weren’t as good when your daddy wasn’t singing them with you. You try to entertain yourself by playing some games that you have downloaded on your iPad, but even they did not give you the thrill and excitement that you need.

You remember in the car when your daddy said that Oscar was gonna be here today, but he hasn’t come to see you yet, a pout formed across your face at that realisation. Therefore, you climbed off the sofa, and decided to toddle around the MTC in search of the Australian driver.

With hindsight, Lando thinks that maybe he should’ve sent an email warning Mclaren employees that his daughter was going to make a guest appearance that day, because no one batted an eye as you wandered around the factory in search for Oscar.

You think you’re making progress, something in your 3 year old brain is telling you that Oscar is close, when you trip on your own feet, hurtling down to the floor right onto your wrist.

You let out a blood curdling screech, as pain shoots up your tiny wrist, immediately bursting into dramatic sobs, wailing as you sit on the floor clutching your arm. 

Luckily, you must have been blessed with the gift of prophecy, because as it so happens, Oscar was around this part of the building for his lunch break, stopping in his tracks when he heard your scream. Lando had said something about bringing you in this week… he thought, as he beelined to the source of the cries.

“Oh bug, what’s happened here!?” He exclaims worriedly, scooping you up into his arms as you continue to sob. You don’t make any coherent response, possibly something about your ‘wist’, but Oscar knows that you’re in pain and that is enough for him.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna get you to your daddy, okay?” He tries to put on his best soothing voice, but in reality he is slightly panicking as he holds his teammate's daughter in a bundle in his arms whilst she cries her eyes out.

You shake your head furiously at that, hot tears still rolling down your little face, “Don’t want daddy!!” You screech, your daddy had left you! You just wanted Oscar.

Oscar doesn’t really know what to do, and your screams will soon start to attract attention, so he can’t just be standing in the middle of the hallway doing nothing. He brushes his free hand over the top of your head, trying to calm you down with a soothing motion as he coos soft words at you, “Shh, baby, ‘M not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, breathe sweetheart…”

He decides his best bet is to first bring you back to his office, and calling Lando from there, he knows he’s got some ice in there that he can put on your small wrist, which is quickly swelling and turning a purplish colour, which he decides is probably not a good sign.

Still whispering sweet words to you, he takes your sobbing form to his office, gently sitting you on his own couch and putting some ice on your wrist, cooing soothing words as you complain about the cold.

He then grabs his phone, quickly dialing Lando’s number. “Hey mate, you think you could come to my office, gotta slight problem here…”

Ever the protective dad, Lando immediately picks up on your wails from the other end of the line, “What the fuck is going on?!? I- I’m on my way.” He hangs up before Oscar can explain that no, he has not intentionally harmed his daughter.

In a matter of seconds, much quicker than his usual pace, Oscar notes, Lando is in his office, kneeling at your side. “Angel, what happened? Tell daddy what happened, where does it hurt?” He shoots questions at you.

You just shake your head at him, reaching your good arm for Oscar.

Oscar stands there awkwardly, stuck between his teammate’s betrayed expression and your sweet, sad, big, adorable eyes… he gives in, coming to sit next to you and pulling you into his lap.

“You gonna tell me and your daddy what happened, sweet girl?” He asks softly, smoothing your hair over.

Through hiccups and sobs you manage a few words “T-Tripped! Wrist is sore…” you sniffle, snuggling into Oscar’s lap.

“Your wrist, baby?” Lando asks, “Can you show daddy?”

You just hide your face in Oscar’s chest, shaking your head, and Lando just looks at Oscar slightly helplessly, his own daughter won’t even talk to him…

“You gotta show your daddy otherwise it won’t get better, sweetheart…” Oscar murmurs to you, feeling pity on Lando.

You sniffle but reluctantly pull out your wrist from where you’ve been hiding it from under the ice to show Lando, who has to suppress a gasp - for your sake - at how bad it really is. Oscar’s eyes widen also, as he exchanges a glance with Lando about what they are going to have to do.

Oscar, gently places his hands over your little ears, “You think you should take her to the hospital…? It looks broken…” Lando just nods grimly, the hospital was not his favourite place as a kid and since you’re practically his carbon copy he doesn’t think you’ll be a massive fan either. 

“Angel, daddy’s gonna take you to the doctor’s, okay?” Lando says as soothingly as possible as Oscar releases your ears, “They’re gonna make it all better and then it won’t hurt anymore, I promise..”

You think about it for a moment, you’re not a massive fan of the idea, but your wrist is really sore, and if your daddy is saying that they’re gonna make it better…

“Oscar come.” You decide. Oscar releases a strangled noise of surprise from his throat, and Lando’s eyebrows raise slightly.

“You want Oscar to come..?” He asks, you just nod, your mind was made up and there was no altering your decision. “I- baby, Oscar is very busy, he probably doesn’t have the time to come to the doctors, but daddy will be there, okay?”

You glare at him.

“I- uhm, I don’t mind coming if it’s gonna make her happy..” Oscar interrupts the one sided glaring match that you’re having with your dad.

“Really? I don’t want to disrupt your day, mate, I mean she’s already taken enough of your time today…” Lando starts.

“No, no, I’m sure, I could use a break from work anyway.” You grin at that, like you had never even broken your wrist at all, as long as Oscar was coming with you to the doctors.

So that is how Lando and Oscar ended up at the local emergency room, Lando holding you tightly whilst you grumbled something about wanting to be with Oscar. Either the lady working the desk recognised them and was too starstruck to deny them a doctor, or she saw your grumpy face and decided she didn’t want a screaming child in the waiting room and immediately got you to see a doctor. 

After an x-ray it was determined that yes, your wrist was broken, which broke Lando’s heart, his poor, sweet, girl…

Luckily, the break wasn’t that bad, and you were able to leave a couple hours later with a new, blue cast, as per your request. You had given up on your short lived resentment for your dad, and were snuggled up into his chest as Oscar drove you all back to the MTC. When you arrived, Lando spoke up;

“You gonna say thank you to Oscar for looking after you, darling?”

You wriggle out of his arms, running over to Oscar and wrapping your arms around his leg, “Thank you!” You giggle, the Doctor had given you a light dose of pain relief, so you were no longer screaming about your wrist.

“That’s okay sweetheart, you be careful, okay?” He cooed, you really were adorable. 

“Thanks, mate” Lando smiled at Oscar, scooping you back up, ready to get you home. Oscar smiled back.

The way back was funnily quite similar to the way there, you talked Lando’s ear off the entire time about just how much you loved Oscar!

~~~

a/n: thank you for reading! send in any requests you have xx

[trashytracktales]

For VDay requests: Lando takes her to a nice dinner and she gets mad at him idk maybe he does something without realizing. And then they come back home and shes still pissed but he looks so good after he changes in his comfy clothes so they end up fucking on the couch or something but that's when she tells him why was she mad at him ❤🥀

Happy Valentine's Day guys xx

Torn on Valentine | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for this request, I actually had so much fun with it. Enjoy your reading and happy Valentine’s, my lovelies!!

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🩷summary ──── Lando notices immediately that his girlfriend is angry with him. However, he has no idea why. But whatever the reason might be, he is determined to remind her exactly why she can't stay mad for long. It's Valentine’s Day, after all.

🩷pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🩷rating ──── explicit

🩷category ──── F/M

🩷warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, unresolved tension, teasing, jealous!reader, mild dominance, begging, unprotected sex, slight angst-to-smut.

🩷word count ──── 4.4k (4.444 to be exact hehe)

🩷date ──── Feb. 14, 2025

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

VALENTINE’S DAY IS ruined.

Lando had gone all out to make sure that won’t happen, starting the morning by waking her up with muffins in bed, the scent of vanilla still lingering in the sheets as he pressed lazy little kisses to her neck.

They spent the day walking around the city, and shopping, wandering through little boutiques where he insisted on buying her anything and everything she had laid her eyes on.

And then, la pièce de résistance: a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant, the kind of place with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A soft melody played from a piano in the corner, setting the perfect atmosphere. The food was great, the wine was good, and every detail screamed romance, from the flickering candle between them to the way Lando’s thumb traced tiny heart shapes on her hand as they talked, his eyes never leaving hers.

All in all, it had been perfect. Until he ruined it.

The moment was burned into her mind, replaying it over and over again, like a broken record. The waiter, a girl who had been a little too friendly with him all night, had leaned in when she refilled his wine at some point, brushing his shoulder with a touch that lingered for too long. And Lando, oblivious as ever, had winked at her.

Winked.

She knew her boyfriend. Knew he was clueless about these things, that his flirty nature wasn’t always intentional. But that didn’t make it sting any less. Because the waiter had noticed. She smirked at him, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and acted like his girlfriend wasn’t literally sitting on the other side of the table.

After that, she had gone silent.

The entire ride home, she stared out the window, with her arms crossed and lips pursed, and her knees facing the opposite way from him. Lando figured something was wrong ever since; he glanced at her between shifts, brows furrowing, but he didn’t say anything, probably thinking she was just tired.

Then they got home, and she had barely looked at him as she changed into something more comfortable, still replaying the scene in her head.

Had he done it on purpose? Probably not. But did it matter?

That’s… debatable. It mattered to her.

Deprived by every emotion except irritation, she followed Lando setting up his last surprise of the day — a cozy movie marathon on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets, sweets and drinks, and a bunch of her favorite Valentine’s-themed movies ready to run.

Now, their apartment is quiet except for the hum of the TV that neither of them is really watching. The tension between them is thick, lingering in the air like a storm that hasn’t broken. Yet.

She breathes heavily, sitting curled up on the opposite side of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and arms crossed over her chest. Lando, on the other side, is content to let her be.

Until he isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we playing the guessing game again?” he finally asks, voice edged with concern. He knows that she needs time to process whatever’s bothering her at the moment, but his patience has limits, too.

She doesn’t look at him, just shrugs as she lies, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Lando puffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Right. That’s why you’ve been side-eyeing me like I insulted your entire family ever since we got back. It’s annoying, you know? If you have something to say…” his voice trails off, but he feels a wave of anger building inside, so he decides to let go before making it worse.

Her jaw tightens.

She doesn’t want to give in, mostly because she knows that the reason why she’s mad is, well, kind of absurd. But at the same time, she’s frustrated in a way that isn’t just about her boyfriend winking at other girls. The weight of the week has been pressing down on her shoulders, and she needs something — him — but she’s too stubborn to say it. Especially now. Still, her eyes keep flickering down, lingering on the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the lazy way he’s sprawled out, legs spread wide.

He catches her looking, fighting a smile as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. “You wanna sit on it?”

Her head snaps toward him, face heating instantly at his question. “What?”

Lando shrugs, “You keep looking,” he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending you don’t want to.”

She scoffs, but can’t deny it. She does want to. Desperately. But she’s mad at him. So, she says nothing. Just presses her lips together, turning her attention back to the screen like she isn’t thinking about climbing onto his lap and letting him pull her apart, little by little.

On the TV, the main characters are making out, sending her mind spinning relentlessly, fueling her sudden desire. Apparently, that’s enough for her to decide that she has to put an end to it, finally taking Lando’s advice and speak her mind. But he’s faster. His hands are reaching out for her, almost like they appeared out of nowhere, gripping her waist, effortlessly pulling her onto his lap.

A surprised gasp leaves her lips, but she doesn’t fight him, and doesn’t push him away. If anything, she melts just a little, legs instinctively settling on either side of his hips.

He looks up at her, fingers squeezing at her waist. “That’s better, hm?”

She glares, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

Lando raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he counters, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs, thumbs brushing tiny, teasing circles on her skin. “And you’re not exactly running away.”

She hates how smug he is. Hates how easily he sees through her act. Hates how good he looks right now.

But then his hands slide further up, fingertips ghosting over the curve of her ass, pressing her down against him just enough for her to feel him through the fabric of his sweats. And the feeling is… intense to say the least, since she’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and her pajama shorts.

Lando watches her closely, aware of the effect he has on her. “Gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to make you forget?”

She shouldn’t give him the satisfaction. But when he shifts beneath her, dragging her forward so deliciously slow, her resolve crumbles.

Her hands grip his shoulders, nails pressing in. “Shut up.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes, exasperated by his attitude, “Shut up and do something.”

Lando grins at her bluntness, fingers tightening on her hips as he rolls her against him again. “Ask nicely.”

She huffs annoyed, but so needy it aches. “Lando,” she warns in a low voice.

Lando shakes his head. “No, baby. You know how this works,” he reminds her, lips brushing against her neck as his hands keep guide her movements. “Use your words.”

She breathes lightly, head tipping back as the friction sends heat pooling low in her belly. “Please?”

“See, that’s a good start,” he chuckles, nipping at her jaw and dragging his tongue over the sting, “But I know you can do better.”

Her pride wars with her desperation, but it’s a losing battle. She needs more than that, and she knows he won’t give it to her until she breaks.

Next time she speaks, her voice is a whisper, breathy yet sweet, “I need you, please.”

He smirks as he watches her through his eyelashes, happy with the state he managed to put her in so easily. “There goes my girl.”

Lando can see the shift in her the second he finishes his sentence. It’s in the way frustration morphs into impatience, and how her breath hitches every time he grinds her against him but doesn’t give her what she really wants.

“I know you’re enjoying this, but there’s no reason for you to take your sweet ass time, you know that,” she mutters, her voice edged with irritation.

Lando shrugs. “And you know I like watching you squirm.”

She rolls her eyes, but her body betrays her — again and again. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, while her thighs tense around his waist. With a sharp exhale, she moves on her own now, hands sliding down between them, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. Lando follows her movements, amused, but doesn’t stop her as she pulls them down just enough to free him.

Her breath catches at the sight: he’s already hard, the head flushed deep red, leaking just slightly.

She glances back at him, brows raised, but Lando shrugs again, as if the reason is obvious. “You on my lap, begging? Kinda hard not to get… you know, hard.”

Her stomach clenches at his nonchalance, the way he acts like it’s inevitable. Like, of course he’d be this ready for her. Duh.

Lando exhales excited as she wraps her fingers around him, stroking just enough to make his hips twitch beneath her. His breath gets slightly unsteady after that, but his control remains.

“Getting bold now?” he asks, eyes locked on her as he pushes her shirt up just a little, tracing his fingers along the warm skin of her waist.

The girl doesn’t answer, just bites her lip as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down and letting them catch on the curve of her thighs before she kicks them away. That’s when the teasing glint in Lando’s eyes fades, replaced with something darker. He swallows hard, hands settling firm on her hips as he drinks her in.

“So soft,” he mumbles under his breath, mostly to himself.

She feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with being half-naked. It’s like he’s seeing everything, because he knows her so deeply. Like he’s about to ruin her in the best way possible.

And she’s going to let him.

Lando wraps his hand around hers and, together, they pump his cock slowly, his gaze always on her, watching the way her body responds to the sight of it. Then he runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the bead of wetness there while he moves purposely, dragging the length of himself through her folds, groaning at how slick and warm she is.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, pressing his forehead to hers for a second, while she needs to hold on to him with both hands now. “You’re dripping.”

She whimpers as he does it again, sliding against her, teasing her clit with the thick head before pulling back, drawing out her frustration.

“Lando, don’t…” she whines, shifting against his chest, trying to get more of him.

Lando laughs, low and raspy, but his grip on her isn’t loosening one bit. “Patience, baby.”

“I need—”

“Yeah?” he cuts her off, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance this time, barely pushing in before pulling back out. “What? This what you need?”

Her stomach flips at the feeling, so raw, unable to spit out any words. Instead, she only manages to nod.

To show her that he appreciates her honesty, Lando guides her hips, dragging her along his length, pressing his swollen tip against her clit once more and holding her there. Without moving. She gasps, her whole body shuddering as the pressure sends sparks through her nerves.

Lando groans, feeling how she pulses against him, how her body aches for more. “Well, shit. That’s pretty,” he admits, watching her fall apart in his hands.

She lets a little cry out in protest, trying to push down, but he keeps her there, right on the edge of everything, everything.

“You gonna beg for it again?” he asks in a teasing voice.

She wants to fight him on it, but she can’t. Not when she’s this close to him, when every second of waiting feels like pure, unfiltered torture.

She shakes her head, her little cry turning into a throaty moan.

Lando gets ecstatic at the sound and the way her body shivers — so desperate, so utterly wrecked for him before he’s even inside her. For a split second, he considers giving in completely. But then he remembers she’s mad at him. Or at least, she was. And if she thinks she can get away with that attitude without consequence, she needs to understand that she’s sorely mistaken.

Instead of giving her what she wants, Lando kisses her. Hard. His lips crash into hers, swallowing the whimper of frustration that slips from her throat. He starts guiding her against him, harder now, making her ride the thick length of his cock without ever letting her sink onto it, the friction sweet but never enough. She tries to pull back, gasping against his mouth, but he doesn’t let her. One hand tangles in her hair, holding her close, keeping her exactly where he wants her.

Until her patience snaps and, with a sharp gasp, she bites his lip, just hard enough to make him hiss, her nails digging into his scalp as she pulls at his curls. Lando moans, a low, needy sound that strikes her like lightning. The sting, the fight, the way she’s clawing for a type of control she won’t get — not yet — motivates him to keep teasing her.

Annoyed, she lets her hand slip between them, fingers wrapping around his cock, slick and throbbing, before she finally sinks down onto him. Because, sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself is to take matters into your own hands.

At that, both of them go silent.

Her body tightens around him instantly, the fullness of him stealing her breath, making her walls flutter as she adjusts to his length.

Lando’s forehead presses against hers, his lips parting with a violent inhale, his hands squeezing her hips.

“Jesus, baby,” he breathes, voice wrecked, “What buttons did I push?”

She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t move. Neither does he.

They just sit like that, their bodies locked together so perfectly it almost feels cruel to even blink. The fight, the frustration, the teasing… it all fades away in one moment, replaced by something more intense. Something profund.

When she shifts just slightly, Lando whines, feeling the way she clenches around him, and how perfectly they fit together. The thought makes him throb inside her, the heat of her making his pulse race.

She presses her forehead harder against his, her breath shaky. “Baby,” she whispers, “Shit, you feel so good.”

Lando opens his eyes, finding hers already on him.

For a second, he’s happy to simply look at her. Her flushed cheeks, the way her lips are swollen from his kisses, the way she’s barely holding herself together — everything about her is perfection. Then, he lifts her up, and the sudden rush of cool air against his cock makes him moan.

She shrieks at the emptiness, at the way her body aches to take him back. “Please, not now,” she pleads.

Before she can continue, he shoves himself back in, agonizingly slow, making her feel every inch of him as he stretches her again. As a result, her head falls forward, a desperate whimper breaking from her throat.

Lando keeps his eyes on her, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks, “Already falling apart, love? I’ve barely even started.”

She whines, arms wrapping around his neck, hips twitching like she wants more. Much more.

“This what you needed, yes?” Lando taunts, rolling his hips just enough to make her lose her mind. “You gonna stop being a brat now?”

She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a shaky breath. Lando smiles, dragging himself out just to push back in, watching her eyes flutter shut.

“No, no. Keep those pretty eyes open,” he instructs, nipping at her jaw, “Come on. I wanna watch you break for me.”

Because he is absolutely evil, Lando keeps it slow. Too slow.

Every roll of his hips is calculated, dragging himself out so she feel his cock slipping away, then pushing back in deep, filling her up so completely it makes her walls pulsate. She can’t do anything but take it, her senses overwhelmed by him — by the rough drag of his hands on her skin, the warmth of his breath against her lips, the filthy sound of their bodies meeting.

Then his hands move, sliding up from her waist, fingers tracing over her ribs before finally cupping her breasts. It makes her gasp, her back arching into his touch as his thumbs sweep over her nipples, teasing a little, then rolling them between his fingers.

“So sensitive, look at that,” says Lando, his voice thick with lust. “Are you shaking, baby?”

She is. Her thighs tremble where they straddle him, her whole body squeezing him with every slow thrust, every lazy swipe of his thumbs against her skin.

His gaze drops between them, and his breath stutters at the image. “Beautiful.”

She doesn’t understand at first, too lost in how slowly he fucks her, but then he guides her chin down, forcing her to look.

And oh, fuck.

She can see everything: the way her body stretches to take him in, the way she’s dripping down his entire length, making a mess on his lap, and the way her thighs are trembling on each side of him.

Lando’s heart starts beating faster, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her neck. “See how you’re fucking ruining me?”

She lets out a soft, broken moan, fingers playing absentmindedly with the curls at the back of his head, mostly to anchor herself in the moment.

“Lan…”

“I know, love,” his tongue flicks against her pulse point before he kisses her jaw. “Not so mad at me now, are you?”

Right now? No. She realizes she’s not. She can’t be. Not when he’s touching her like this, fucking into her with such lazy, devastating precision. Not when he’s whispering filth into her ear while looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Her hands move, framing his face, tilting it up so she can kiss him again. But this time, their kiss is different. It’s not angry, not desperate, but tender and loving. A kiss that makes Lando’s grip falter, that steals the breath from his lungs and sends him to a new world that’s only inhabited by them.

She whimpers hungrily against his lips, and that’s what breaks him, because he knows he broke her first.

A guttural moan rumbles from his chest as his fingers dig into her thighs. And then he snaps. “Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispers next to her ear, thrusting into her harder. It takes her by surprise, the way he is holding her so tight like he’s trying to fuse them together. “Need you,” he adds.

The sudden change in pace fractures something in her brain to the point she can’t remember anything else except his name.

“It’s okay you’re mad,” Lando assures her. “You can be as mad as you want, yeah? All day, everyday,” he groans, voice wrecked. “I’m still gonna fuck you like this. Gonna give you exactly what you need. Whenever you need me, love.”

Her head falls back, a loud moan spilling from her lips as he loses himself in her, in the heat, the mess, and the way she clings to him.

“Always gonna take care of my girl,” he promises, sealing the words against her skin. “No matter what.”

She can feel his control slipping in the way his thrusts deepen, the rhythm faltering slightly as his breath becomes gradually uneven. He’s still trying to hold back, but she can tell he’s far from behaving. She feels his cock twitching so deliciously inside her, and the way his hands melt with her skin almost painfully on her hips. Every new sensation makes her dizzy, until it’s too much. The pressure building in her chest, the overwhelming feeling of him inside her, the way his hands start roaming over her skin, and his mouth leaving hot trails across her neck — all too much.

With a shaky breath, she collapses forward, her body unable to keep steady, falling against his chest as her hands slide weakly to his sides.

“I can’t,” she gasps, “Can’t hold myself up.”

Lando’s hands move immediately, his hold firm on her back, and voice filled with a deep urgency, “I got you, baby. You know I do.”

And then he flips them, his strength not-so-surprising as he rolls them onto the couch, her body now on her back with him above her. The new angle makes them both moan in unison, the sudden shift in depth making every movement feel sharper, more intense.

Lando’s hands find her thighs, pulling them apart so he can press deeper, pushing into her with a delicious force that makes her stomach tighten and her toes curl. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room — wet, sticky, perfect. Her hands reach up, gripping the back of the couch, her nails scratching at the fabric, trying to keep herself grounded as he fucks her harder.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando groans, his face flushed with sweat, his lips parted as he stares down at her, eyes wild with need. “You’re so fucking perfect, can’t get enough of you.”

She can feel him getting closer, the way his movements grow sloppier, more desperate, but there’s no slowing him down. He’s all in — in her, in the moment, and she can barely breathe under the weight of it all.

The sounds of their passion are unrestrained, loud, their breath ragged and frantic. It’s all they hear now: her moans, his grunts, the soft squeak of the couch beneath them. But as the tension starts to crack, she feels herself spiraling as closer to the edge as he is, and she finally feels the last remnants of her jealousy fade away.

She looks up at him, her vision blurry from the pleasure. “You… winked at the waiter.”

Lando freezes for just a moment, his thrusts shallow, and he looks down at her, confusion flickering in his eyes as he forces himself to regain control. “I did?” he breathes out wildly, his lips twitching with a laugh that’s barely contained.

She moans, biting her lip as she writhes under him, “Yes, when she came back with the wine,” she admits, her voice soft, barely a whisper. “It was so stupid, I wanted to throw it in your face.”

Lando finally laughs, a genuine chuckle, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her lips before pulling back. “Wanted to be mad, but you’re too busy getting fucked to even care now, hm?”

She wants to argue, wants to tell him he’s being a cocky bastard, but the words get lost in the sound of her own moans as his rhythm picks up again, faster this time, his cock hitting places inside her that have her seeing stars.

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice full of the tension and the blinding pressure building in her chest, “I’m so... Fuck. I’m close.”

Lando doesn’t ease off. “I know, baby. I feel it.” He pushes her closer, his hands gripping her legs just right, his thrusts brutal and relentless. “Wanna come for me?”

She doesn’t have enough time to process his words. The wave hits her hard, crashing over her like an unstoppable force, and her body goes taut, every nerve lighting up as she cries out, her back arching off the couch as she cums around him.

And Lando isn’t far behind.

He slams into her once more, and then his head falls on her chest with a groan as he releases, the hot pulse of his cum filling her up just as her own orgasm shakes through her. Breathless, they stay like that, bodies joined, both of them tangled in the aftershocks of their release.

“Next time, don’t wink at other girls if you want to keep your eyes,” she finally says, feeling him softening inside her.

“Next time,” he whispers, still trying to catch his breath, “Don’t go non-verbal on me. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She smiles weakly, pressing her lips to his. “You never mean it like that, do you?”

The air between them thickens, leaving behind an almost palpable silence. Affected by her last affirmation, Lando’s hands find home on her skin, the touch light, slightly hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the fragile calm that’s settled between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She traces her fingers through his curls, her body feeling like a flame now, flickering gently after being ignited. There’s a warmth spreading from her chest, outwards, a comfort that soothes the storm inside her. But still, her heart races, and the lingering heat from their connection seems to hum through her veins.

Lando shifts, moving to pull her closer, his arms wrapping around her. She nestles into him, feeling the heat of his skin and the sweat against hers, the warmth of him grounding her.

“You okay?” she hears him again.

“Yeah... just needed a moment to catch my breath,” her voice is a soft murmur in his ears.

Lando smiles weakly, his lips curling with that familiar grin. He brushes a lock of hair from her face, fingers skimming her cheek like a whisper, and the gesture is enough to make her chest tighten.

“You’re everything I need, silly. Always.”

She knows that. And luckily, the storm inside her has subsided. “I’m sorry, too. For being stubborn,” she whispers, her voice full of a quiet vulnerability.

Lando chuckles, “Stubborn is an understatement.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Don’t push it.”

His hands, once firm and assertive, now trace delicate patterns over her skin, mapping every curve, every inch of her as though trying to imprint her into his soul. There is no need for words now, not anymore.

As Lando presses another soft kiss to her lips, she remembers why they will always be able to overcome any childish misunderstanding.

“I love you,” she says, her voice steady.

He smiles, feeling a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. And, instead of saying it back, Lando tilts his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a teasing smirk.

Then, he winks at her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[rafecameronssl4t]

i’m actually obsessed with all your works pls i need more ceo!rafe and sweetheart!reader, maybe something with their kids??? you’re actually amazing 🙇‍♀️

Office visit || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request xx

Warnings: use of daddy and mommy but not in a sexual way 😭

Word count: 2,002

MASTERLIST (CEO!Rafe au masterlist)

“What do you boys want to do after this?” you ask, glancing back at Luca and Kai as they focus on their ice creams. The two of them sit on the edge of the bench outside the tennis club, still buzzing with energy after their lesson. The faint scent of sunscreen lingers, and their flushed cheeks tell the story of a morning well spent.

Kai pauses mid-bite, his little tongue darting out to catch a melting drip before it slides down his cone. His brows knit in concentration as he thinks, his chocolate-streaked fingers almost comically poised. Luca, always the quieter of the two, finishes his bite and watches his brother, waiting to see what he’ll suggest.

You reach over and smooth Kai’s tousled hair, the strands damp from sweat and the summer heat. “What about…” you trail off, pulling your phone from your bag to check the time. It’s just past noon, and an idea sparks. “How about we go and see Daddy at his office for lunch?”

Both boys instantly straighten, their eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yes! Yes!” they exclaim in perfect unison, their voices loud enough to draw amused glances from a passing couple. Kai bounces slightly in his seat, and Luca’s smile stretches wide, making your heart melt.

“Alright, finish up your ice creams first, and then I’ll make a quick call to see if he’s free,” you say, chuckling at their eagerness. You bend down to zip up their small tennis bags, tucking away their water bottles and rackets. Their names are embroidered neatly on the sides of their bags, a gift from Rafe when they started lessons last year.

Sliding your phone out again, you scroll to Rafe’s assistant, Rachael, and hit call. It barely rings once before her bright, professional voice answers. “Hi, Mrs. Cameron! How are you?” “Hi, Rachael,” you greet warmly, stepping a little away from the boys, who are now energetically debating whether they should bring Daddy a surprise snack. “Does Rafe have any meetings or calls in the next hour or so? The boys want to see him, and I thought we could bring lunch.”

“Let me check for you,” Rachael replies. You can hear the soft tapping of keys as she looks at his schedule. “You’re in luck—he’s free until 2 p.m. today!” “Perfect,” you reply with a relieved smile, already picturing Rafe’s reaction. “We’ll be there soon. Thanks, Rachael.” “Of course! See you soon,” she says, and you hang up, sliding the phone back into your bag.

Turning back to Luca and Kai, you find them eagerly finishing their ice creams, their little legs swinging excitedly beneath the bench. “Okay, it’s all set. Daddy’s free, so we’re heading to his office. But first, wipe those sticky hands!” you tease, handing them some napkins. They giggle as they clean up, practically bouncing with excitement as they climb into the backseat of the car.

You secure their tennis bags in the boot and slide into the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror to see their gleaming faces. As you pull out of the car park, their excited chatter fills the car. “Do you think Daddy will let us sit at his desk like last time?” Kai asks. “Maybe we can help him work!” Luca chimes in, his voice hopeful.

You laugh, your heart full as you drive toward Rafe’s office. “Let’s see how much work Daddy gets done with you two around,” you joke, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought of surprising him with his two biggest fans.

~

The second you parked your car in the reserved spot beside Rafe’s sleek black car, Luca and Kai were out of their seats in a flash. “Wait for me!” you called, though you already knew your words would be ignored. You watched with a mix of amusement and exasperation as the two bolted toward the glass sliding doors, their laughter echoing through the underground parking lot.

“No running inside, please!” you called after them, quickly grabbing your bag and locking the car. Your heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement as you hurried to catch up. By the time you reached the doors, Steve, the ever-friendly security guard stationed by the front entrance, was already greeting them. “Well, hello, Luca and Kai!” he said with a broad smile, his weathered face lighting up at the sight of the energetic boys.

“Hi, Steve!” they chorused, their voices loud and cheerful before they darted further into the building. You reached Steve just in time to catch his amused chuckle. “And hello to you, Mrs. Cameron,” he greeted warmly, his tone respectful yet familiar. “Hi, Steve,” you replied with a smile, placing a light hand on his arm. “How’s Margaret doing?” you asked, genuinely curious about his wife.

“She’s doing well, thank you,” Steve replied with a proud nod, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “That’s wonderful to hear,” you said softly, offering a kind smile before glancing ahead to see Luca and Kai at the front desk, already reaching for the small bowl of lollies. “I’d better catch up with them before they cause too much trouble. See you later, Steve!”

“Have a good visit, Mrs. Cameron,” he called after you with a wave as you made your way inside. The front desk staff greeted you with bright smiles as you approached. “Hello, Mrs. Cameron!” Jake, one of the receptionists, said cheerfully. You chuckled softly, smoothing Luca’s hair as he eagerly unwrapped a lollipop. “I hope these two aren’t bothering you too much,” you joked.

“Not at all,” Jake replied with a grin, glancing down at the boys. “They always bring a little extra energy to the office.”“Well, that they do,” you said, shaking your head fondly as Kai offered Jake a gummy bear from his stash. “Alright, boys, let’s not take all the lollies.” Luca and Kai quickly popped the last of their treats into their mouths and followed you toward the elevator, their small feet pattering against the polished floors.

As the elevator arrived, a group of Rafe’s staff stepped out, their chatter pausing as they noticed you and the boys. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cameron,” one of them greeted, while another bent down to fist bump Luca and Kai. “Good afternoon,” you replied, nodding politely as the boys giggled, clearly thrilled by the attention.

You guided them into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where Rafe’s office was located. The doors closed, and the boys glanced up at you, their excitement bubbling over. “Do you think Daddy will be surprised?” Luca asked, his voice full of anticipation.

“I think he’ll be very happy to see you,” you assured them, adjusting the strap of your bag as the elevator hummed softly. As the elevator ascended, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, already picturing the look on Rafe’s face when he saw his two little boys storming into his office like it was theirs.

~

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the sleek, modern design of Rafe’s executive floor. The expansive space was quiet, save for the faint hum of activity from his staff in the open office areas. Luca and Kai immediately bolted out of the elevator, their small sneakers squeaking against the polished marble floors as they made a beeline for Rafe’s corner office.

“Boys, wait!” you called, your voice firm but amused as you followed them at a brisk pace, your heels clicking against the floor. You exchanged polite smiles and greetings with passing employees, most of whom glanced at the boys with fond amusement. It wasn’t the first time Luca and Kai had stormed through these halls like a whirlwind.

By the time you reached Rafe’s office, the boys had already pushed the heavy door open just enough to slip inside. You caught up just in time to see them racing toward Rafe’s large mahogany desk. Rafe was seated behind it, his brow furrowed as he reviewed a stack of papers. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the sharp lines of his face, but the moment he heard the familiar sound of his sons’ excited giggles, his head snapped up.

“Daddy!” Luca and Kai shouted in unison, running around the desk to get to him. Rafe’s expression softened instantly, his serious demeanour melting away as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, what’s this?” he asked, his lips curving into a smile. He opened his arms just in time for the boys to climb onto his lap, their chatter filling the room.

“We came to surprise you!” Kai exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around Rafe’s neck. “Did you now?” Rafe replied, his tone warm as he ruffled Kai’s hair. He glanced over the boys’ heads to see you standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on your face as you watched the scene unfold. “And you brought reinforcements, I see.”

You chuckled, stepping further into the room. “They insisted. It was either this or trying to sneak into your meetings.” “Good call,” Rafe said with a smirk, shifting Luca onto his other knee. “You two behaving for Mommy?” Luca nodded earnestly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes made Rafe arch a brow. “Mostly,” you teased, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“Mostly?” Rafe echoed, giving them both a mock stern look that made Kai giggle. “We were good, Daddy!” Kai insisted, throwing his arms out dramatically. “I’ll take your word for it,” Rafe replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Kai’s head before glancing at you. “Thank you for bringing them. This is the best kind of interruption.”

“They wanted to see you,” you said softly, your heart warming at the sight of Rafe with the boys. “And they may have bribed the front desk staff with gummy bears on the way up.” Rafe laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the office. “Sounds about right. So, what’s the plan now, little troublemakers?” “Lunch with you!” Luca declared, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Lunch, huh?” Rafe looked between them, feigning thought. “Well, I think I can make that happen. What do you guys feel like eating?” “Pizza!” Kai shouted, while Luca chimed in with, “Burgers!” Rafe glanced at you, his grin widening. “Guess we’re having both.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call get Rachael to call the kitchen while you catch up with your boys.”

As you stepped aside to make the call, you couldn’t help but glance back at them—Rafe, with his arms full of Luca and Kai, looking more at ease than you’d seen him in weeks. Moments like these made all the chaos worthwhile.

[balfeys]

requested by Anon: 7.02 | 7.03

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

FAVOURITISM. [PART ONE]

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 1956 summary. tangerine was put out of work following the events of an accident. as a result, he created his own business, applying all of his knowledge. you work as a secretary cross technical assistant for him and working very closely to the big bad boss catches the eyes of your peers. one day he notices a change in your workwear — proving to you, he’s been paying a lot more attention than you originally thought. boss x secretary. disclaimer. the images at the bottom are just a reference of what I picture the reader wearing. they are not a reflection of how I write or see yn (colour and body type) it’s merely a way to show you what I envisioned

MY 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY! it’s only right that I write for tan seeing as it all started with him xx also a big big loving thank you to @pretty-little-mind33 for the idea and brainstorming with me. literally would not have done this without her <33

SERIES MASTERLIST

⎯ ☆ ⎯

It wasn’t often that you’d find yourself not looking forward to work — feeling anxious to get in. Your love for what you do always seeming to overshadow any discomfort.

For the last several months, you’ve been working as a technical assistant cross secretary for your boss, Tangerine. No one knew of his real name, and you were starting to think that’s the way it’ll always be. 

Last night after your shift, you were brought to HR for an unexpected meeting, being called up on a dress code violation. Multiple complaints made around the office about your bright tights and flowy shirts, being told that it was ‘unfit for work’ and a ‘distraction.’ You knew you weren’t exactly well liked around the office — the sneers and scowls made your way making that evident. But never did you think they would go so far out of their way to complain about you. 

Their dislike for you felt territorial — judgy eyes always seeming to follow you as you attend to the needs and wants of your boss. The attention you gain from the broody, grumpy man in charge, simply asks and tasks you agreed to in your job description. The repetitive calls for your name only ever consisting of tea requests or computer help. It left you feeling confused and isolated, constantly wondering why they hated you so much. You were only ever doing your job. Doing what was asked of you. 

So, as you sit in your car before the start of the workday, you use your spare few moments to collect yourself, preparing for those same judgemental stares. You look down at your legs briefly, noticing the lack of colour — your usual patterned tights now being replaced with grey, drab trousers. All of your vibrancy and exuberancy —personality— stolen when told to make this change. 

You exhale, giving yourself one last second of sanity before you’re getting out of the car, juggling your bags and cups of coffee in hand. Stepping into the building and into the elevator with a small crowd, you become invisible, blending in with everyone — becoming what you’ve always dreaded: a lifeless office zombie, sharing the same apathetic, dull expression with all those around you. 

You reach your floor and exit with the few remaining others in the lift. You deviate from your colleagues and head for your bosses office at the back, giving his door a couple of knocks. 

“Yeah?” he calls out, and you slowly push the door open.

His usual rigged, intimidating gaze softens as his eyes fall on you through the gap, his attention landing on you over the top of his computer.

“You’re late,” he says, the words a reprimand for most, but for you they were more of an observation — a casual, flyaway statement. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Traffic was a nightmare,” you apologise as you step into his office, avoiding his eyes like you were ashamed. 

You look down to the coffees in hand and pass him the one without the lipstick mark, extending an arm as you move to stand beside his desk.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens,” he reassures. And as he takes the cup from your hold, he glances down, noticing the lack of your familiar flamboyance. “What’re you wearing?”

You look down confused, brows pulling together as if to show you didn’t understand his question.

“The trousers,” he looks up at you, gaze almost harsh. “Why're you wearing them?” 

He has never seen you wear trousers.

“Thought I’d shake things up,” you shrug with your lie, not wanting him to know the real reason.

You didn’t want to give your peers more reason to hate you by tattling to the boss — complaining about them being mean to you, so you decided against it, keeping him from the truth. Though it’s far harder than you anticipated, his eyes ever so demanding as he remains fixed on you above. 

“So no smiley face is also part of you shaking things up?” he questions, showing you the blank cup — your usual sharpie smileys nowhere to be seen. 

You wince slightly, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. You weren’t sure if the embarrassment was from the fact he noticed or that you forgot. But humiliation was felt either way.

“It’ll save us the ballache if you tell me why,” he takes a sip of his drink and places it aside, giving you his full attention. “I can call a staff meeting, but I reckon they’ll get suspicious after seeing us talk,” he playfully blackmails, offering you a faint smile to show you his bribe holds no such malice.

You turn and look out through the window of his office, picking up on dozens of sets of eyes glued to you through the gap of his blinds. All of which briskly turn away upon the glance of Tangerine, his eyeline following yours — scaring your peers back into work.

“What’d they do?” he asks, redirecting your focus back to him.

“I just got a complaint, that’s all,” you shrug, trying to minimise it as much as possible.

“Why?” he asks bluntly, neck craning to keep your eyes on him.

“They don’t like the way I dress apparently,” you laugh faintly, the noise sounding far more hurt than you intended. “I mean I get it,” you deflect, trying not to slip into a habit of seeking him for assurance when people in the office turn against you. “I get what they mean.”

He’s quiet as he looks over you, head shaking disapprovingly as he mumbles something incoherent. He inhales deeply and then coughs to clear his throat, sounding like he was preparing for something. 

“I gotta meet with some people, but I’ll see what I can do,” he says as he stands, reaching for his briefcase. “Don’t let these miserable lot get to you,” he smiles weakly as he collects his coffee cup, heading towards the door until he stops, and turns around to face you. “They hate that I don’t hate you, that’s all.” 

Your eyes follow after him as he leaves his office, leaving you standing there alone to process his words. You’ve never really picked up on the hinted favouritism like your colleagues have — never seeming to notice the allowances and kindness your peers aren’t granted with. But you were only ever doing as told, why would that warrant any special treatment? 

And with that thought in mind, you head towards your desk just outside of his office, setting your things on your neatly, organised table. Placing your hot drink in his designated spot besides your computer, you log on — attending to emails and to things on your extensive to do list.

A few hours pass you by.

You’re interrupted from all work when you feel the presence of someone standing behind you, your boss now back from his meeting with a pile of papers in hand.

“Need you to sort these out for me,” he says as places the stack beside your hand. “Please,” he adds, trying to keep up with the habit he’s trying to enforce by showing his appreciation. But only to you.

You look down to the pile, noticing a gap in between the blank, plain papers. You look up at him briefly, like you were asking permission and then your eyes fall back onto the stack. And as you go to lift the upper chunk of papers, Tangerine is moving from you and into his office, a new bag —a shopping bag— held within the hand of his briefcase. You take little to no notice and turn your attention back to the pile, a square paper bag hiding within the fake forms. The perfect cloak of disguise. 

You didn’t need to look inside to know what it was, the warm circle giving it away immediately. It was a cookie. You swivel in your chair to look into his office, his eyes already on you through the gap in his blinds. The gap you’re now starting to believe holds another purpose. You smile at him sweetly, mouthing thanks before resuming with your work — wanting to get it all done before the end of the day.

And as five pm soon rolls around and as everyone begins logging off and packing up for home, you turn to look back at Tangerine, a pained expression on his face as he rolls his shoulder. His old injury you know very little about seeming to give him grief.  

The floor begins to clear and you collect your things, walking those few steps until you’re in front of your boss's door. You give it a light tap and enter when welcomed.

“You off?” he asks, turning his attention to you in his doorframe. 

“Yep,” you smile, lingering for a moment. “Thank you for the cookie, by the way.”

“It’s alright,” he gently smiles, head bowing almost bashfully. “Hang on and I’ll walk you out. Don’t want you out in the dark by yourself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you deflect, not wanting to be a bother. “Really it’s okay, my car is only outside.”

He shakes his head at you as he gives his desk a quick tidy, packing things up for the night. Tangerine stands and collects his belongings, picking up his coat from the rack and small bag from the side before he’s heading to you, guiding you along. 

You each walk towards the open elevators and head in, standing side by side —close— within the confined space. 

He twists inwards to face you. “I uh,” he starts, extending the shopping bag from earlier to you. “I picked something up for you.”

Your brows tug in the middle, looking up at him like you were questioning the reasoning why. You take it from his hand and look inside. 

“No,” you whisper, sheer disbelief in your voice as you pull out the gift. “These are beautiful! Where did you even find them?” you question, looking over the tights, marvelling at the pattern. 

He keeps his head cast downwards, looking between his feet as he smiles, appreciating your appreciation. “It’s a secret.”

The elevator dings, cutting your time short and you both look at each other, the glance brief. He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to step off first,  and you do. You linger, waiting for him to join so you could walk besides one another. 

The walk towards your car is slow, as if both of you are trying to savour the short journey, hang on to it. Small chuckles and shy, stolen glances being the only form of communication during your minute long walk.

You reach into your bag and pull out your keys to unlock your car, the dozen chains and charms jingling and clattering with the movement of your hand. 

Tangerine reaches for your door, pulling the handle to open it for you — nodding you inside. You smile at him sweetly as you get in, placing your bags on the passenger seat. 

“You get home safe, alright?” he says, grinning softly.

“I will,” you look down coyly, smile faint.

He nods once. “Good.”

“See you monday?” 

“Mhm-hm,” he hums, expression gentle as he goes to close your door. “Have a good weekend,” he says before shutting you inside.

You exhale shakily within the quiet sanctuary of your car, the lack of noise allowing your mind to run rampant with repeats from the last few minutes. You glance down to your gift, trying to process it all until your eyes land on the tag — his name, his real name squiggled on the note.

The favouritism you’ve struggled to notice becomes as clear as day. Every interaction from the past now being thought of differently as you look back on it all. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

in my mind she’s very penelope garcia/ louisa clark/ jessica day/ phoebe buffay coded (more so in dress sense) she’s cute and i love her

[ PART TWO ]

[itsnesss]

hiii :)

could i pretty please request Kimi Antonelli x fem reader where they're dating and get into a silly fight over something small and reader gets just slightly petty and does stuff like breaking spaghetti in front of him, ordering pizzas for dinner but they all have pineapple on them, basically everything italians consider sacrilege and Kimi just sits in silent italian rage cause he knows a reaction is exactly what reader wants

just a silly couples argument that somehow breaks out into an all-out war

thank you xx

𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦 | kimi antonelli × fem!reader

summary | you and kimi have a playful fight over food. he stays calm, but you know he’s secretly fuming

warnings | playful arguments, food-related humor, light teasing and petty behavior, silly and lighthearted tone

word count | 1.0 k

🖇 more ka12 🖇 f1 masterlist

It all starts over something silly. Something so small that it’s not even worth arguing about. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself… right before you argue about it anyway.

“You said if I cooked, you’d wash the dishes,” Kimi reminds you from the kitchen, with that tone somewhere between irritated and condescending that ignites you more than the oven.

“And I washed the breakfast dishes. It’s not my fault you cook like you’re feeding the entire paddock,” you respond from the couch, not even bothering to turn to look at him. Your voice is sweet, but with venom.

“Non è lo stesso. It was three plates. Now there are twenty. This isn’t a restaurant, tesoro.”

Your eyebrow arches. You glance at him over the back of the couch, pretending to be innocent. He gives you a look that clearly means “I’m not playing.” You just smile. Because of course you’re not playing… but you’re definitely winning.

The silence that follows is tense, but almost fun. Kimi returns to his tomato sauce as if he’s a scientist in his lab. Meanwhile, you start plotting your next move.

And then you see it: the package of spaghetti in the pantry. It almost calls your name. A completely malicious idea forms in your mind. And you can’t resist.

You get up calmly, as if you have no evil intentions. You walk over to the pantry and pull out the package, holding it in front of you. Kimi watches you with suspicion. You don’t say anything. You just look at him… and then…

CRACK!

You break the spaghetti in half.

Kimi freezes. The spoon he had in his hand falls into the bowl with a soft clink. His eyes fixate on the broken pasta as if he just witnessed a murder.

“You didn’t…” he whispers.

“What? It cooks faster this way,” you respond with a small smile, throwing the broken pieces into the boiling water like nothing’s happening.

He says nothing. He just slowly turns around, with the expression of someone praying internally not to explode.

And you know it hurts him. Of course, you know.

But it doesn’t end there.

The next day, you decide cooking is too much effort. Better order pizza. When Kimi asks what kind you ordered, you smile sweetly.

“Surprise.”

When they arrive, you open the first box and set it on the table. Then the second. Then the third. And all of them, absolutely all of them, have a generous layer of pineapple.

Kimi sits in front of the boxes, staring at them in silence, and doesn’t say anything. Not a sigh, not an insult. Just that gesture of his that you know so well: clenched jaw, slightly furrowed brows, eyes fixed on nothingness.

The Italian silence is deafening.

And you, on the verge of laughing, take a dramatic bite of a slice and say, “Mmm… pineapple with cheese is delicious, don’t you think?”

You know he’s about to lose his composure. You know that deep down, an ancient voice inside him is screaming “traditrice!” and that he’s doing everything he can not to get up from the table and scream at the universe.

But he doesn’t.

Because he knows that’s exactly what you want.

The next morning is suspiciously calm.

Too calm.

Kimi doesn’t say anything when he wakes up. He doesn’t frown. He doesn’t mention the sacrilegious pizzas or the pasta broken like it’s glass. He just gets up, kisses your cheek, and murmurs a soft “bongiorno” as if everything is fine.

And honestly, that scares you.

Because an angry Kimi talks. An offended Kimi protests. But this Kimi… this elegant silence with a mysterious smile and suspicious calm… that’s the Kimi planning his revenge.

You decide to ignore it.

But by noon, the first signs begin.

You walk into the kitchen and see that he’s already made lunch.

“You cooked?” you ask with a mix of distrust and tenderness.

“Certo. I thought you deserved a… special meal,” he says with an angelic smile.

You sit at the table, a little wary. It smells good. Too good. You take a bite.

It tastes… bad.

Something’s off. Salt? Sugar? Both?

You look at him. He just takes his glass of water and drinks it slowly, provocatively.

“What did you put in this?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Love. And a pinch of divine justice,” he answers with total calm.

You put your fork down.

“Are you seriously getting back at me with pasta?”

“I’m just balancing the universe, amore. Karma exists. And so do horrible sauces.

You don’t know if you’re more indignant or impressed.

Later, when you take a shower, you hear noises in the kitchen. When you come out, the air smells like… cheese? Herbs?

And there he is.

Kimi stands in front of the oven, taking a steaming tray out. The dish looks incredible. Pasta al forno, made with a delicacy that melts your soul.

“And this?”

“It’s for me.”

“And for me?”

He gives you a cold look… theatrically cold.

“You have pineapple.”

He opens the fridge and shows you a perfectly intact box of Hawaiian pizza, with a label that reads “For culinary traitors.”

You suppress a laugh. He walks over, without losing his dignified air, and whispers in your ear:

“Never underestimate the Italian pride. Especially in the kitchen.

But then, just when you’re about to give in, when you’re about to say “okay, enough,” he leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Although… I have to admit, seeing you bite that pizza with pineapple and pretend you didn’t expect my reaction was adorable,” he murmurs, softly, as if it slipped out.

You turn, pretending to be offended, but he grabs you by the waist and lifts you easily, making his laugh resonate against your neck while you scream in laughter:

“Put me down, Antonelli!!”

“Admit that parmesan is better than pineapple and I’ll do it!”

“Never!”

“Traditrice!” he says dramatically.

[candescentkpop]

I beg, save me

Enhypen: Sacrifice (Eat Me Up)

Enhypen Part 17 / ?

[kiwriteswords]

Hello could I please request a fic where maybe the team doesnt like reader at first?

Winning Over the Kids [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4.5k|| AN: Thank you for the request; I love seeing all of them come in <3 Feedback is also always welcomed! xx

Tags/Warnings: implied age-gap, reader is a forensic psychologist, no use of y/n, secret relationship, team dislikes reader at first, protective Hotch, no mention of Jack--so up to you if he exists or not lol, mirroring the Lo-Fi vibes with Kate Joyner/Hotch/Team, canon-typical themes, some fluff, team dynamics, established relationship

Sypnosis: When Erin Strauss contracts a forensic psychologist to work with the BAU Team, Aaron Hotchner isn't sure if he is more frustrated with the fact that they dislike you as their newest team member or as his secret girlfriend.

Aaron Hotchner had spent years mastering the art of control. His team relied on him to remain composed under pressure, a steady anchor in chaos. But when Erin Strauss informed him that she was contracting a forensic psychologist to assist the BAU, he felt his resolve stretch thin. Not because he doubted the decision—he knew you were exceptional—but because the team didn’t know the full story.

You were brilliant, sharp, and confident. You had risen through the ranks faster than most, your reputation built on precision and expertise. Yet, whispers of you being a “workaholic” and “cutthroat” followed you, a product of stereotypes surrounding young, successful women in high-stakes fields. Aaron had seen it before, but it infuriated him nonetheless, especially now that you were his… well, not officially, but close enough to feel the sting of those judgments on your behalf.

At the morning briefing, he broke the news. “The Bureau has decided to bring in a forensic psychologist to collaborate with us on our cases. She’ll be joining us starting tomorrow.”

Predictably, the room bristled.

“A shrink? Really?” Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “No offense, Hotch, but we kind of know how to read people.”

Emily Prentiss folded her arms. “Isn’t that the point of profiling? What does Strauss think we’ve been doing all this time?”

JJ added carefully, “Is this about our mental health? Are we supposed to… talk to her?”

Spencer Reid, ever the analyst, frowned. “I’ve read that forensic psychologists in consulting roles often critique operational dynamics. Could this be Strauss trying to monitor us?”

Aaron kept his face neutral, though he wanted to correct them all. You were nothing like what they imagined. “This isn’t about our capabilities. The psychologist has specific expertise in complex cases involving psychological manipulation. Her role is to supplement our efforts, not replace them.”

“Yeah, until she starts picking apart everything we do,” Derek muttered.

Aaron resisted the urge to snap. They didn’t know you yet. They didn’t see the meticulous care you put into every decision, or the softer moments when you let your guard down with him.

The next day, you arrived at Quantico with a polished confidence that turned heads. Ready to take on the next case, which was local to the BAU. 

You greeted the team with a professional demeanor, offering a firm handshake and an easy smile. But the tension was palpable. The team’s skepticism hung in the air like a storm cloud, and Aaron felt his jaw tighten as he observed their guarded reactions.

Derek kept his distance, observing you with a critical eye. Emily was polite but cool, and even JJ seemed uncertain about how to approach you. Spencer avoided eye contact altogether. Rossi…well, Rossi seemed to sit back and take it all in. 

“Let’s get to work,” Aaron said, more curtly than he intended, leading the group into the roundtable room.

You took a seat beside him, your notebook open and pen poised. “I’ve reviewed the case files,” you began, your voice steady and self-assured. “The unsub’s behavior suggests a deep-seated fear of abandonment, likely rooted in childhood trauma. But the escalation pattern indicates recent stressors. Have you explored potential triggers within the last six months?”

Reid blinked, clearly taken aback. “We—uh, we considered family dynamics, but we didn’t narrow the timeline that specifically.”

Your sharp gaze turned to him, not unkindly. “It’s worth revisiting. The timeline could give us a better idea of who influenced him most recently.”

Aaron noticed the way Reid shifted uncomfortably, and it grated on him. You were offering valuable insights, yet the team’s resistance was evident.

After the briefing, Derek muttered to Emily, loud enough for Aaron to hear, “Well, she doesn’t waste time, does she?”

Aaron’s patience wore thin. “Morgan, a word,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

In his office, Aaron shut the door and faced Derek. “What’s your problem with her?”

Derek raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t say anything she didn’t earn. She walks in here acting like she knows everything. What do you expect us to do—roll out the red carpet?”

“I expect you to treat her with the same respect you’d give any other professional,” Aaron snapped. “She’s here because she’s the best at what she does, and we need her expertise. Whatever preconceived notions you have, leave them at the door.”

Derek frowned but nodded. “Got it, Hotch.”

Aaron exhaled slowly after Derek left. He knew he couldn’t shield you completely, but it infuriated him that he had to watch you navigate the team’s cold reception.

That evening, after everyone had gone home, you found Aaron in his office. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, crossing your arms. “So, how bad was it?”

He looked up from his desk, his expression softening. “They’ll come around.”

You smirked, though your eyes held a flicker of vulnerability. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Aaron stood and walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to prove yourself to them. I know who you are, and eventually, they will too.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile breaking through. “Is that your way of saying you’re proud of me, Agent Hotchner?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Always.”

For a moment, the weight of the day lifted. Here, behind closed doors, you didn’t have to be the prodigy or the psychologist with a reputation. You were just you, and Aaron was fiercely determined to make sure the team saw that too—someday.

The next morning, as Aaron walked into Quantico, he noticed a huddle forming near Penelope’s desk. Derek, Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Penelope stood together, their voices low but animated. He had planned to keep walking, but a snippet of their conversation caught his attention.

“I’m telling you, I heard she’s impossible to work with,” Penelope whispered, her usual warmth absent.

“Yeah, and she’s already showing it,” Derek added. “Control issues, first day on the job.”

“So far, It’s just one case,” Emily said, though her tone was skeptical. “But she’s definitely… intense.”

“We don’t need someone analyzing us while we’re trying to profile an unsub,” JJ muttered.

“I don’t think she’s here for that,” Reid said hesitantly. “But… yeah, I’ve heard the whispers too.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened as he listened. He wanted to intervene, to defend you, but he bit his tongue. This wasn’t the time. Instead, he walked away, the sting of their words lingering. He felt almost betrayed. His team was usually better than this. They prided themselves on fairness, on seeing beyond the surface. But in this case, they were clinging to gossip and prejudice, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

When you arrived, you carried yourself with the same poise and determination Aaron admired. You greeted the team briefly, your no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place. “Let’s get to work,” you said, spreading the case files across the conference table.

Your approach was methodical and efficient, and though Aaron knew it was how you operated, he could see how it rubbed the team the wrong way. They weren’t used to outsiders, especially not ones who came in with your level of authority and expertise. But they were professionals, and they pushed their reservations aside as the case progressed.

Aaron watched you closely throughout the day. You were unflinching in your analysis, your insights sharp and accurate. When you spoke, your voice carried confidence, but he could sense the subtle edge in your tone—a shield you had learned to wield over years of proving yourself.

After the case briefing wrapped up, Aaron found you in one of the quieter corners of the office. You were reviewing your notes, your expression focused but unreadable.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice low.

You glanced up, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’m fine, Aaron. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “I’ve heard some of the things they’ve said,” he admitted. “They don’t know you, and they’re wrong. I’m sorry for how unwelcoming they’ve been.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You don’t have to apologize for them. I get it. They’re protective of their team, and I’m an outsider. It’ll take time.”

“It shouldn’t have to,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He softened, adding, “You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to them.”

Your smile widened, though there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes. “I’ve been proving myself my whole life, Aaron. This is nothing new. Besides, I’ve got you in my corner, right?”

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

For a moment, the weight of the day lifted, and he allowed himself to take comfort in your resilience. But as he returned to the team, he resolved to address their behavior. They needed to see you for who you truly were—and he wouldn’t rest until they did.

During the next case you assisted on, the tension had been simmering all day, and Aaron could feel it building like a storm. You had just delivered a sharp, insightful breakdown of the unsub’s likely behavior patterns, pointing out inconsistencies in the case file that had gone unnoticed. It was the kind of analysis that would have earned respect from anyone else, but not today. Not from this team, not yet.

The briefing room was quiet for a moment after you finished speaking. Emily exchanged a glance with Derek, and JJ tapped her pen against the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating.

“That’s… an interesting perspective,” Derek said, leaning back in his chair. His tone was polite, but Aaron caught the subtle edge, the unspoken doubt.

You didn’t falter. “It’s not just a perspective,” you replied, your voice calm and measured. “The data supports it. If you cross-reference the victimology with the geographic profile—”

“We get it,” Emily interrupted, her tone sharper than usual. “But we’ve been doing this a long time. We know how to read behavior.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened. He glanced at you, but your expression remained composed, even as he could see the faint tension in your posture. You nodded slightly, as if conceding the point, and continued reviewing the case files without another word.

The meeting wrapped soon after, but Aaron lingered behind, pretending to organize his notes. That’s when he heard it.

“I don’t know how much longer I can deal with her,” Emily muttered as the others gathered near the coffee station. “She’s so… clinical. It’s like she doesn’t even care about the victims, just the data.”

“She’s got control issues, for sure,” Derek added. “Like she’s got something to prove.”

JJ sighed. “Maybe Strauss sent her to micromanage us. I mean, why else would she be here? We’re already the best at what we do.”

Aaron slammed his folder shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. The team froze, turning to see him standing there, his expression dark and unreadable.

“Enough,” he said, his voice low but laced with unmistakable anger. He stepped toward them, his gaze sweeping over each of them. “I don’t know what’s more disappointing--your lack of professionalism or your willingness to tear someone down based on assumptions and gossip.”

The team exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke.

“You think she’s here to micromanage you? She’s here to help. And the fact that you can’t see the value in her insights says more about your egos than it does about her methods.”

“Hotch, we didn’t mean—” JJ started, but he cut her off.

“No,” he said firmly. “You did mean it. And if you spent half as much energy working with her as you do undermining her, we’d be a hell of a lot closer to catching this unsub.”

The room fell silent. Aaron rarely raised his voice, and when he did, it carried the weight of finality. He let the silence hang for a moment before he continued.

“She’s not here to prove herself to you. She’s already proven herself, time and time again. It’s time for you to rise to her level, not drag her down to yours.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he’d have to address this further later, but for now, he needed to find you. He wanted to make sure you were okay to remind you, in whatever small way he could, that he was still in your corner. Always.

Aaron Hotchner found you where he expected to: in one of the unused offices, deep in thought over the case files. You were perched on the edge of the desk, flipping through pages with a sharp focus that never failed to impress him. The tension he’d carried since leaving the briefing room eased slightly when he saw how calm you were.

You didn’t even look up when he stepped inside. “Didn’t expect you to find me so quickly,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I needed to check in. The team…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “They were out of line.”

That made you pause. You glanced up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Aaron, it’s fine,” you said, setting the file down. “I’ve been in this position before. People don’t like change, and they don’t like outsiders. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he replied, his voice firmer than he intended. “It’s not fair, and it’s not professional.”

You tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did when you were about to cut through the noise. “They don’t know, Aaron. About us.” Your tone was even, but there was a hint of something deeper there--not accusation, just acknowledgment.

He stiffened slightly, but nodded. “They don’t. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. For now.”

You let out a quiet hum, leaning back on your hands. “For now, sure. But you should think about it. They’re already questioning why you’re defending me. If they find out later that it’s because we’re involved, it won’t sit well with them. They’ll feel like you’ve been hiding something important.”

“They’ll feel betrayed,” Aaron said, the weight of the truth settling over him.

You nodded, a small, knowing smile on your face. “Exactly. Look, I can handle their doubts, their gossip, whatever they want to throw at me. But you need to decide how long you want to keep this a secret. They’re your team. They’re loyal to you. But they also need to trust you.”

Aaron stepped further into the room, his expression softening as he regarded you. “You don’t care what they think of you, do you?”

“Not even a little,” you said with a shrug, your confidence steady. “I’ve spent years dealing with this kind of thing. It’s not new, and it doesn’t bother me. What does bother me,” you added, meeting his eyes, “is the idea of this coming out later and making things harder for you. Or for us.”

Aaron let out a slow breath, running a hand over the back of his neck. You were right, of course. You always were. He couldn’t keep this from his team forever, and things with you had grown too serious for him to pretend otherwise. He had never been one to let his personal life interfere with his work, but this was different. You were different.

“This is serious,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

You arched a brow, a teasing smile breaking through. “Wow, Aaron. Way to make a girl feel special.”

He stepped closer, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “You know what I mean. Things are serious between us. You’re not going anywhere, and neither is the team. I need to find a way to make this work.”

You softened, your hand brushing against his as he stood next to you. “You will. They’ll come around, Aaron. And if they don’t, well…” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting in a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

Aaron felt a warmth spread through him, a rare sense of peace in the midst of the chaos. You were right, as always. He would figure it out--not just because he had to, but because you were worth it.

And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that it would all work out.

Aaron Hotchner had always believed in leading by example. Transparency, fairness, and honesty were core tenets of how he ran his team, and they had rewarded him with loyalty and mutual respect. But as he stood in the conference room, waiting for his team to gather for an unscheduled meeting, he knew he had failed to uphold one of those principles.

The team filtered in, curiosity and unease written across their faces. JJ and Emily exchanged glances, Reid clutched his ever-present notebook, and Derek leaned against the edge of the table with his arms crossed. Penelope, usually lighthearted, looked slightly nervous. Rossi lingered at the back, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought.

When the door closed, Aaron cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “I asked you all here because there’s something I need to address—something I should have told you from the beginning.”

The team straightened, their collective focus sharpening. Aaron had their attention.

“You’ve all expressed concerns about having a forensic psychologist embedded in the team,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “You’ve questioned her presence, her methods, and, frankly, her character. Some of those comments have been professional disagreements, but others have crossed the line. I’ve let it continue longer than I should have, and for that, I take responsibility.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably while Morgan frowned. Reid’s brow furrowed in confusion, his pen tapping lightly against his notebook. Rossi, though silent, tilted his head slightly, a knowing look flickering across his face.

Aaron met each of their gazes in turn, his tone unwavering. “The reason I know she’s good at her job—why I trust her, and why I know she’s not here to spy on us or undermine our work—is because I’ve been seeing her outside of work. For a while now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Reid blinked rapidly, his pen freezing mid-air. JJ’s mouth opened slightly as if to speak, and Penelope let out a small, involuntary gasp. Derek sat up straighter, his brows furrowed in disbelief. Emily’s eyes widened, but she quickly masked her surprise. Rossi, however, didn’t look shocked at all. Instead, his lips quirked into the faintest of smirks, as though confirming a suspicion.

“I had no say in her placement on this team,” Aaron continued, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Strauss made the decision, and she made it clear that the reason is simple: she’s the best. You’ve seen it for yourselves, even if you haven’t wanted to admit it. Her insights have already helped move this case forward. She is not your enemy, nor is she here to judge you.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. “I didn’t disclose our relationship because I wanted to keep our personal lives separate from our professional ones. But as your Unit Chief and as her partner, I will not tolerate disrespect toward her—whether it’s behind her back or to her face.”

Reid, finally finding his voice, asked hesitantly, “Does she…know about us? I mean, our dynamics, our methods? Or does she see us as part of the problem?”

Aaron’s expression softened slightly as he addressed the question. “She knows exactly who you are and how good you are at what you do. She’s here to help you do your jobs better, not to interfere. But she also deserves the same respect you’d give any other member of this team.”

Rossi finally spoke, his tone measured. “And you think telling us this now is going to smooth things over?” His words weren’t accusatory, but they carried weight.

“I think,” Aaron replied, meeting Rossi’s gaze, “that you deserved to know the truth. And I think it’s time we focus on the job at hand rather than creating divisions that don’t need to exist.”

The silence lingered until Derek broke it. “Hotch, we didn’t mean to—”

Aaron held up a hand. “I know you didn’t mean harm, but intentions don’t erase the impact. This team works because we trust each other. That trust goes both ways. If there’s something you need to say, say it to me or to her directly. Gossip and disrespect have no place here.”

JJ nodded, her expression softening. “You’re right. We were out of line. I think…I think we just felt blindsided.”

Aaron’s tone eased, though it remained firm. “I understand. Change isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. You’ll see soon enough why she’s here. Until then, I need your cooperation.”

Emily exchanged a glance with Morgan, then nodded. “We’ll work on it. I promise.”

Rossi gave a small nod of approval, his smirk gone but his understanding clear. “She’s good, Aaron. I’ve seen it. Let’s make sure the rest of the team sees it too.”

Reid looked thoughtful, his pen tapping rhythmically again. “I think we can…adjust. If she’s here to make us better, that’s not a bad thing.”

Aaron gave a single nod, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. That’s all I wanted to say. Dismissed.”

As the team filed out, murmuring quietly among themselves, Rossi lingered behind. “You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “you could’ve just told me this a week ago.”

Aaron allowed himself the faintest smile. “Would it have made a difference?”

“Probably not,” Rossi said with a shrug, “but it would’ve saved you the speech.” With that, he left, leaving Aaron alone to gather his thoughts.

For now, he had taken the first step. And he could only hope it was enough.

Over the next few days, Aaron began to notice subtle shifts in his team’s behavior toward you. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it dramatic, but the signs were there. During case briefings, they no longer exchanged skeptical glances when you spoke. Instead, they began nodding along or even asking follow-up questions. Derek, who had been one of the most vocal skeptics, offered a rare compliment about your interrogation technique after a successful suspect interview.

“She’s got a way of getting under people’s skin,” Morgan admitted to Rossi when he thought Aaron wasn’t listening. “In a good way, I guess.”

Aaron didn’t respond, but he tucked the comment away, feeling an unspoken sense of satisfaction.

Even Reid, who had initially kept his distance, began peppering you with questions about your graduate work. You seemed to enjoy indulging him, discussing obscure psychological theories with the same enthusiasm he brought to the conversation. JJ and Emily followed suit, no longer as guarded, and Penelope—while still wary—had gone out of her way to show you how to use the BAU’s internal systems.

Aaron observed it all with quiet pride. His team was warming up to you, just as he had hoped, and it wasn’t because he’d told them to—it was because of you. Your intelligence, your confidence, and your ability to adapt were slowly breaking down the barriers they’d put up.

That evening, as the two of you wrapped up some paperwork in his office, you leaned back in your chair and smirked at him. “You know,” you said, your voice light with amusement, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Aaron looked up from his file, one brow raised. “Enjoying what?”

“You’re like the team dad,” you teased, crossing your arms. “All broody and protective, wanting the stepmom to be liked by the kids.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, low and rich. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” you shot back, grinning. “Because I think you’ve been paying more attention to their approval ratings for me than I have.”

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head but still smiling. “Maybe. But only because I know how much they mean to you—and how much you mean to me. I want this to work.”

Your expression softened, and for a moment, the teasing dropped. “It already is, Aaron. You don’t have to worry.”

His smile lingered as he looked at you, the tension that had been weighing on him for weeks finally starting to lift.

The real sign of progress came at the end of the week. The team had just wrapped up a grueling case, and as everyone packed up their things, Derek clapped his hands together.

“Alright, we’re going out. Drinks, food, and maybe a little dancing. Who’s in?”

JJ and Emily immediately agreed, and Reid nodded hesitantly, though he muttered something about “just one drink.” Rossi chuckled but offered a quick “Count me in.” Penelope looked around, her bright demeanor back in full force. “Where are we going? And more importantly, is there karaoke?”

Derek laughed. “No promises, Garcia.”

Then, almost casually, JJ turned to you. “You should come,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine. “You’ve had a long week too. You deserve to relax a little.”

Aaron didn’t miss the slight hesitation in your posture before you smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

“Good,” JJ said, already texting someone. “It’ll be fun.”

Aaron stayed silent, watching the moment unfold. The invitation wasn’t forced or reluctant—it was sincere. It was an olive branch, extended without fanfare, and he could tell by the look on your face that you recognized it for what it was.

As the team began filing out, chatting about where to go, you lingered by his desk. “That was unexpected,” you said quietly, glancing at him with a small smile.

“They’re coming around,” Aaron replied, his voice equally soft. “I told you they would.”

You smirked. “Well, Dad, looks like the kids like the stepmom after all.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood. “Let’s just hope I can keep them from embarrassing us tonight.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you teased, grabbing your bag. “Now, come on. You’ve got to show me if Unit Chief Hotchner can actually let loose.”

As you both headed out to join the others, Aaron felt a rare lightness in his chest. Things were falling into place—his team, you, everything. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to enjoy it. 

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