#or that even in the time i have known her there have been times where its possible she might've needed to evacuate for this reason or that

[heeluvv]

˗ˏˋ 09. THE FINAL DROP ˎˊ˗

pairingᝰ.ᐟ ot7 x fem reader

warningsᝰ.ᐟ unprotected sex, double blowjobs, spitplay, etc.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

statusᝰ.ᐟ 9/9 completed!

read more about this series here!

the days had stretched long and heavy, each hour feeling like its own reckoning as you drifted through your apartment in a haze of unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions. your phone had remained flipped face down on your nightstand, untouched, except for the few times you’d picked it up only to stare at the screen before putting it right back down. the flowers from heeseung were wilted in their vase now, a quiet reminder of everything you thought you understood and everything that had unraveled right in front of you. you hadn’t cried—not yet—but your chest ached in that particular way where it felt like you were about to at any given moment, like your emotions sat just behind your ribs, waiting to spill. the silence of your room made it worse, every creak of the wood floor or passing car outside pulling you deeper into the loop of memories you didn’t ask to relive. each of their faces haunted you in fragments—sunoo’s soft voice, jake’s trembling hands, jungwon’s gentle kiss, niki’s teasing smirk—like echoes of something you’d convinced yourself was just content. except now it didn’t feel like content. now it felt like your heart had been split seven ways and you had no idea how to hold it together.

“i couldn’t have been so naive to this,” you breathe, voice trembling with quiet disbelief as your hands knot together in your lap, the fabric of your blanket crinkling beneath your fingers. your gaze stays locked on a spot near the edge of your comforter, eyes unfocused, as though the right words might appear there if you just stared long enough. “i should’ve known—should’ve picked up on something.” your voice breaks slightly as you shake your head. “there had to be signs. i just… i didn’t expect it at all.” the memory of their faces—shocked, unreadable, too familiar in one room—plays in a loop behind your eyes, muddling together into something far more overwhelming than anything you’d prepared for. the air still feels heavy with that moment, even now, days later, like it’s lingering in your lungs. it’s not just the realization that they all knew each other. it’s the fact that no one said anything—that they let you walk blindly into it, moment after moment, lie after silence, until it was too late to turn back.

nari sits beside you on the bed, her presence steady, warm, grounding in the way she always manages to be. her hand is wrapped around yours, thumb stroking the back of your palm in slow, thoughtful circles, and you can feel her watching you carefully. “it’s okay,” she says quietly, her tone free of judgment, but full of understanding. “you’re not wrong for feeling this way, y/n. none of this is your fault.” the way she says it—so certain, so kind—makes your throat tighten, and you swallow hard against the emotion rising in your chest. your shoulders feel tense, your heart bruised with confusion and embarrassment and something more painful that you still haven’t dared to name. you glance at her with tired eyes, trying to muster some kind of composure, but she sees through it immediately. she always does. “you just got caught in something way bigger than you thought it was,” she adds. “and that’s not on you.”

you let out a shaky sigh and pull your hand away, dragging it through your hair in one long, slow motion, fingertips catching on a few tangled strands. “i don’t even know how to feel about it all,” you whisper, your voice low. “they all acted like it was just us, like each moment was… i don’t know, ours—but they were hiding something. and i guess i was too, in a way.” your words start to unravel, slipping out of your mouth faster than you can catch them, and you pause to breathe before continuing. “and the worst part is, i can’t even say i regret it. i meant every moment. i wanted all of it.” you close your eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of that truth. “and now i don’t know if that makes me stupid, or just… human.”

“what are you planning to do now?” nari asks gently after a pause, her voice tentative but curious, knowing better than to push too hard. “do you feel the same way about all of them… or is there one who stands out?” the question lands softly, but it echoes like a drumbeat in your chest, and you stare at her, your lips parting—but no sound comes out. you shift uncomfortably on the bed, your thoughts a tangled mess of memories and sensations and words left unsaid. each boy left something behind in you—heeseung with his gentle reverence, jay with his quiet intensity, jake with the warmth that lingered after every touch, sunghoon with the sharp tension that never quite released. and then there was sunoo, vibrant and teasing and soft in a way that made you feel seen. jungwon with his eager devotion, like you were something sacred in his eyes. niki with that careful confidence, that push-and-pull that sparked something in you you hadn’t even realized was there.

you can’t choose. you don’t want to choose. but you also don’t know if walking away is any easier.

“i don’t know,” you finally whisper, your voice hoarse with emotion. “i loved filming with each of them. the connection felt real every single time. and i know that’s why this hurts so much.” you bring your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you rest your chin on top. “but right now, i can’t make sense of how i feel. i’m not ready to face any of them. not yet.” the silence that follows is full of tension, not awkward, but full—pregnant with unspoken fear, longing, and the ache of being pulled in too many directions at once.

nari doesn’t speak right away. she just reaches over and rests her hand on your back, her touch warm through the thin fabric of your shirt. “then don’t,” she says simply. “not until you’re ready. but when that moment comes… talk to one of them. start somewhere.” she gives you a small smile, one laced with gentle encouragement. “you don’t have to figure it all out at once, y/n. just… don’t run from it forever.”

and for the first time in days, you don’t argue.

the rain had started sometime in the late afternoon, a quiet drizzle tapping against your windowpane as you curled deeper into your blankets, your conversation with nari still echoing in the quiet corners of your mind. she’d left a few hours ago, giving your hand one last squeeze and promising you time, space, and a judgment-free shoulder if you needed it. you hadn’t moved much since. everything still felt knotted inside of you—your thoughts, your guilt, your confusion—tightening around your ribs like a drawstring pulled too tight. you hadn’t heard the doorbell at first, not over the low hum of your fan or the scattered rainfall outside, but the second knock made your heart leap into your throat. you pulled yourself upright, hesitating at the mirror to smooth your hair, though your hands shook a little with the movement. the hallway light felt too bright as you stepped toward the door, your breath caught in your chest as your fingers curled around the knob and twisted. when the door creaked open, your body stilled, stunned—because there, standing outside of the door with damp curls sticking to his forehead and his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, was jungwon, eyes wide like he didn’t believe he was really here either.

the sight of you—wrapped in a loose hoodie with sleep-tousled hair and eyes slightly puffy from crying—makes his breath catch in his throat as if he’s forgotten how to speak. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, silence stretching and folding between you, the sound of soft rain falling and the warmth of your apartment curling behind you like two separate worlds. “hi,” he says finally, his voice gentle but tight at the edges, and when you don’t respond right away, just blink at him like he’s not real, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “i… didn’t know if i should come,” he admits, glancing down as if afraid to meet your eyes again, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you—about what happened.” your hand lingers on the doorknob, knuckles white, chest rising in slow, shallow breaths as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions clawing up your throat—shock, anger, guilt, and something softer beneath it all. “jungwon…” you breathe, finally finding the word, but nothing else comes with it, because he’s here and it’s overwhelming and all-consuming, and the ache you thought you’d buried is suddenly back in full force. his lashes flutter when you say his name, like it touches something delicate in him, and he nods once, then looks past you like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to cross the threshold. “can i come in?” he asks quietly, and there’s something in the way he says it—tentative, respectful, but laced with longing—that makes you step back without thinking, letting the door swing wider as he steps inside, into the space that’s felt too quiet without him.

you close the door behind him gently, the quiet click echoing louder than expected in the small space, and for a moment neither of you move. jungwon stands in the middle of your living room like he’s unsure whether he belongs there, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as his eyes slowly scan the room before settling back on you. “i thought maybe seeing you would help me understand how i feel,” he admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it too loud might scare you off. “but now that i’m here, i think i’ve always known.” the words make your heart stutter, and you find yourself slowly crossing the room, arms folding loosely over your chest like a shield you’re not sure you want to keep up. “why did you come, jungwon?” you ask, and the question doesn’t carry anger, only a tired sort of sadness, the kind that lingers after too many nights spent thinking in circles. he looks up at you then, really looks at you, and something about the way his eyes soften breaks something open inside you.

“because i miss you,” he says simply, but there’s so much weight packed into those three words that you feel your breath catch in your chest. “not just what we did. i miss how you made me feel—like i was important, like you saw something in me that no one else does.” the words hit you like a wave, crashing against the wall you’ve been trying so hard to keep standing, and you press your fingers into your arm to ground yourself, to remind yourself this is real. jungwon takes a small step closer, testing the distance like he’s not sure how far he’s allowed to go, and his voice grows softer, more vulnerable. “it was my first time… all of it. not just physically, but feeling this way about someone—this… deep, gnawing thing that hasn’t left me since i met you.” your throat tightens, fingers twitching at your side, unsure whether to reach for him or protect yourself. “you don’t have to say anything,” he adds quickly, misreading the silence as rejection, “i just needed you to know.”

“you don’t understand how complicated this is,” you murmur, the emotion thick in your throat as your gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet his for too long. “i didn’t expect any of this—i didn’t know it would get so messy.” jungwon nods slowly, and you watch the way his brows pull together, how he chews the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to find the right words. “i know,” he says, voice barely audible, “and i wish i could fix it for you. i’d take it all away if it meant you’d stop hurting.” the gentleness in his voice makes your stomach twist painfully, and for a moment you want nothing more than to step forward, to bury yourself in his warmth and let him hold all the pieces you’ve been too afraid to share. “it’s just… hard,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, and his eyes flicker with something fierce, something aching and patient all at once.

he steps closer again, now just an arm’s length away, and you can see every detail of his face—the tiny scar above his brow, the redness in his eyes, the quiet desperation in the way his lips part but hesitate. “i don’t want to lose you,” he says finally, voice cracking at the edges, “even if it means waiting, even if it means watching you figure everything out.” your breath hitches, and the room suddenly feels smaller, warmer, like the air itself has thickened around you. “i’m not asking you to choose,” he adds, almost as if reading your mind, “i just want you to know that for me… it was never just a video.” your heart aches, the confession echoing through every bone in your body, and you finally look up at him again, eyes glistening with everything you’ve been holding in.

jungwon’s eyes widen slightly when he sees the way your lips part, the way your breath trembles, and it’s like he wants to reach for you but stops himself out of respect. “you don’t have to love me,” he whispers, “but please… don’t shut me out.” his voice is so raw, so open, that it slices right through you, and you don’t realize your fingers are trembling until you clench them into fists to stop the shake. “i’m scared,” you confess for the first time, your voice as soft as the rain tapping against the window, “because i felt something with you too, and that’s the part that terrifies me.” the honesty hangs there between you, bare and unfiltered, and jungwon’s expression shifts into something painfully tender.

he nods, slow and understanding, and finally takes the last step toward you, close enough that his fingers could graze yours if either of you moved. “then let me be scared with you,” he murmurs, “we don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” your chest swells, eyes stinging, and for a moment all you can do is breathe him in—his scent, his warmth, the fragile hope wrapped around his words. “i don’t know what’s going to happen,” you admit, “but i don’t want to pretend like it meant nothing either.” his lips curve into the faintest smile, eyes shining as he whispers, “then that’s enough for me.” and in the quiet that follows, as you stand inches apart, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.

jungwon’s gaze dips to your lips for just a second—barely a flicker—but it’s enough to set off a rush of heat through your entire body, soft and slow and consuming. you don’t move right away, your breath shallow as your eyes search his face, every inch of him brimming with something that looks dangerously close to hope. your fingers twitch at your side before reaching up on instinct, brushing lightly against the edge of his hoodie sleeve, just enough to ground yourself in the moment. “come here,” you whisper, the words barely audible but enough to have him lean forward, hesitantly, like he still doesn’t believe you’ll let him. but you do—you meet him halfway, your hand curling at the base of his neck as your lips press gently into his, warmth spilling from the point of contact like it’s been waiting to ignite all along.

he kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear—slow at first, almost cautious, his hand moving to your waist with such care it makes your chest ache. you press in closer, your free hand resting over his chest where his heart is racing, its rhythm frantic beneath your touch. the kiss deepens naturally, growing hungrier without losing its tenderness, the kind of kiss that says too much without needing words. jungwon sighs softly against your lips, like he’s finally breathing for the first time in days, and you feel the way his shoulders drop as your touch pulls him in. your thumb brushes along the side of his jaw, feeling the way it tenses slightly under the emotion threatening to spill out of him. his hand curls tighter around your waist, not possessive, just needing—just wanting to be close to you without letting it slip away too soon.

when you pull back just slightly, lips parted and noses still brushing, his eyes are already glassy, a soft pink blooming high on his cheeks as he exhales through a quiet laugh. “that was…” he starts, but the words falter, and he just shakes his head gently, a crooked, lovesick smile curving at his lips. “yeah,” you breathe, matching his energy, forehead resting gently against his as you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself feel everything at once. he doesn’t rush the silence, doesn’t push for anything more—just lets the weight of what just passed between you settle into the stillness of the room. his thumb strokes a slow line along your waist, and you swear you could fall apart just from the way he holds you, like you’re the only person who’s ever mattered. “i could stay like this forever,” he mumbles, voice thick, and your heart twists painfully in your chest because you know you can’t promise that just yet.

—

this day already felt lighter than the one before, the air in your apartment somehow less heavy, your thoughts no longer as fogged and chaotic. after everything that had happened, the silence, the tension, the messy unraveling of all the truths you didn’t ask to know—you found yourself carrying a bit more clarity today. jungwon’s visit the night before had stirred something in you, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. it made you realize that you were allowed to take your time, to breathe, to feel all of it at once without rushing toward a decision. so maybe it was that small pocket of peace that gave you the courage to reach out to heeseung—the first.

he was the one you’d started everything with, the one who made you feel wanted before you even understood what you were diving into. it felt right to face him now, with more steadiness in your chest and a little less fear. the memory of the bouquet he once gave you still lingered in your room—its colors now dulled, petals soft and scattered across the surface of your nightstand, a quiet reminder of something that bloomed fast and never really faded. 

the knock on your door comes soft but sure, drawing you gently out of your thoughts. you push yourself off the couch, the floor cool beneath your feet as you walk to the door with your heart pressing steadily in your chest. when you open it, there he is—tall and striking in the glow of the late afternoon sun, his pinkish hair styled just the way you remember it, though maybe a little softer now. his eyes meet yours, a glint of something hopeful flickering in them as he lets out a breath.

“hi, princess…” he says, the petname falling from his lips like it had been waiting all this time, tucked away just for this moment. you feel the weight of it settle warmly in your chest.

“hi,” you respond, voice gentle as you step aside to let him in. “come in.”

he steps in slowly, his eyes scanning the apartment like he’s cataloging the changes, like he’s trying to trace where he used to stand, where you used to sit, where it all began. he moves with quiet reverence, shoulders rising slightly with each breath, and you watch the way his hand brushes down the side of his jeans as if he needs something to do, somewhere to place the nervous energy building between you both. you close the door behind him gently, your fingers curling around the handle for a second too long before you turn to face him again. for a moment, neither of you says anything. the silence stretches, but it isn’t empty—it’s full of everything that was left unsaid.

“i didn’t think i’d get to see you again like this,” heeseung says finally, his voice softer than you remember, like it’s been sanded down by time and longing. his gaze lingers on your face, searching, careful, like he’s trying to figure out how much of you is still his to read. “you look… you look beautiful.” you smile, barely, because even though the compliment makes your chest flutter, there’s still a tension winding through your spine, coiled from everything that’s happened since the last time you were together.

“thank you,” you reply, your voice nearly a whisper as you gesture toward the couch. “do you want to sit?” he nods quickly and moves to the couch while you follow behind, your heart thudding just a little harder with every step. you sit beside him—not too close, not too far—and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them like he’s bracing himself.

“i’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he admits, eyes cast down to the floor before flicking back up to yours. “not just about what we did. but the way you made me feel. the way i still feel.” his words hang between you like steam off a hot drink, curling and invisible and so very real. you feel the lump form in your throat, emotion creeping up the edges of your chest as he continues.

“i didn’t mean for any of this to get so complicated,” he says, shaking his head slowly, brows furrowing. “at first it was only for quick video, just for fun until it wasn’t anymore.” you watch his fingers tighten around themselves, a small tremble in his voice that he doesn’t try to hide.

you sit there quietly, your own heart pulling painfully because you know his words are true—you felt that tenderness in every touch, in the way he looked at you like he was afraid he’d ruin something just by holding on too tightly. “i kept the flowers,” you say softly, your eyes flicking to the hallway. “they’re still on my nightstand.”

heeseung lifts his head, and something in his expression crumples at your words. “you did?” he asks, and when you nod, he smiles—just barely, but it’s the kind that reaches his eyes. “i thought maybe they’d be gone. like everything else.”

you shake your head, your voice quiet but steady. “you weren’t ever nothing to me, heeseung.”

a silence falls again, this one more tender, more full of the ache that builds when two people want each other but don’t know how to fix what’s broken. then, carefully, you reach out and place your hand over his, your fingers sliding gently between his. he turns his palm to meet yours, the contact soft but grounding.

“i wanted to see you today because i needed to know if what we had meant something,” you say, your gaze steady on his. “i needed to know if you still saw me the same way.”

his thumb brushes across your knuckles slowly, reverently, like he’s memorizing the feel of your skin. “i never stopped seeing you that way. i never stopped wanting you.”

heeseung’s fingers remain laced with yours, his thumb tracing small, reverent circles against the back of your hand as if grounding himself through your touch. there’s something in his expression that looks both overwhelmed and awestruck, like seeing you up close again is too much and yet not nearly enough. your knees brush lightly as you shift a little on the couch, turning to face him fully, and your chest tightens at the way his gaze lingers on every part of you—your eyes, your mouth, your expression—as if he’s searching for something familiar and finding everything he missed. the air between you feels fragile but charged, delicate yet thick with things unsaid, with feelings that had been buried under the weight of time, of silence, of complicated truths. “i’ve missed you,” heeseung breathes finally, his voice soft but raw, like the words have been sitting on the tip of his tongue since the day he let you walk away. your lips part to answer, to say something, anything, but all that slips out is a quiet, breathless hum as you squeeze his hand in return, heart fluttering at the vulnerability spilling through his voice. he leans closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and you can feel the way his breath trembles when he exhales—like he’s holding back everything he wants to say in favor of showing it instead. “can i kiss you?” he whispers, the question not rushed, not desperate, just reverent, and the simple sincerity in it makes your throat tighten. you nod slowly, eyes fluttering shut, and the world seems to still the moment his lips meet yours.

his kiss is gentle—almost too gentle at first—like he’s afraid you’ll vanish beneath him, afraid this might be a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. he kisses you with aching slowness, like every second counts, every brush of his mouth against yours an apology, a confession, a hope. his free hand finds your jaw, thumb sliding softly beneath your ear as he deepens the kiss with a quiet sigh, his body curling into yours like he wants to shield you from the rest of the world. you respond in kind, melting into him, your fingers slipping over his shoulder and gripping the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him closer, needing him near, needing this to feel as real as it does. his tongue brushes lightly against your bottom lip and you open for him without hesitation, your breath catching as the kiss grows more certain, more full—still tender, still careful, but laced now with something rawer, something deeper. you can feel how much he’s holding back, how much emotion is pressed into the way he kisses you, like he’s trying to speak in a language you’ll never forget. when he finally pulls away, it’s only by an inch, his forehead resting against yours and his lips still barely brushing yours as he exhales, shaky and full of meaning. “you feel like home,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like the words weren’t planned but tumbled out without permission. you feel your heart crack open just a little more at that, your eyes fluttering open to meet his as he stares at you like you’re the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

heeseung’s thumb brushes against your cheek as he studies you, the softness in his eyes darkening just slightly with something more serious. “have you made a choice yet?” he asks, voice low and careful, not demanding but deeply curious, like your answer holds the weight of everything between you. your lips part with a slow exhale, fingers tightening gently around his. “i have,” you admit, heart fluttering against your ribs like it’s been waiting for this moment too. “but i want to tell everyone at once... i owe them that.” the honesty sits between you, heavy but right, and heeseung nods slowly, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, knowing smile. “then let me help,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple with quiet resolve. “come with me—i’ll take care of everything,” he adds, already pulling you gently to your feet as your stomach flips in anticipation.

you follow him to the front door, slipping on your shoes as he keeps a steady hand on your lower back, his presence steadying and grounding. the sunlight outside has softened into a golden wash, casting long shadows as the two of you step out into the cool air and head toward his car. his fingers stay laced with yours the entire walk to the passenger side, his thumb tracing calm, thoughtless circles that make your chest tighten with quiet affection. once inside, the engine hums to life, and the low volume of the radio blends into the comforting silence between you—one filled with unspoken meaning rather than awkwardness. you glance at him as he drives, taking in the quiet confidence in his profile, the way his jaw tightens slightly like he’s focused on making this go right. “where are we going?” you ask softly, eyes flicking to the road ahead as he turns onto a familiar street. “my place,” he answers, flashing you a quick glance that’s both reassuring and something deeper. “i told the rest to meet me there around six. it’s time.”

—

you thought this moment would come with more clarity, more poise, maybe even peace—but instead your nerves are coiling inside you like tightly wound string, every eye in the room weighing down on your chest. they’re all here, seated or standing in the living room, each gaze fixed squarely on you, some soft and unsure, others unreadable, but more than a few linger a second too long on your lips. the silence presses in as you shift your weight between your feet, fingers nervously twisting around each other, heart hammering like it’s being wrung out with every second you wait. “before i say anything else, i just have one thing i need to ask,” you begin, your voice quiet but unwavering as your eyes stay rooted to the floorboards. “why didn’t any of you tell me you all knew each other? was i not someone worth being honest with?” your voice wavers slightly, the first crack blooming beneath your ribs as your eyes rise slowly to meet theirs, glassy with heat you refuse to let spill. “i was naive enough to not put the pieces together, but still—there were no signs, no indication, and now i just feel... stupid.”

he confession sits heavy in your throat, your chest tightening as their silence grows denser around you, no one moving to speak just yet. “a part of me felt like i was being played,” you continue, voice just above a whisper now, “like maybe it was a joke to you all, something funny you could talk about behind closed doors.” you shake your head gently, a bitter laugh escaping under your breath as you draw in a shaky inhale. “and i hate thinking like that—i really do—because none of you made me feel that way when we were together. each of you showed me a side of yourselves that i let myself believe was real, something intimate i gave myself up to without hesitation.” your gaze flicks up again, landing on familiar faces you’ve memorized in far different settings, now unreadable and complicated. “i didn’t want to be seen as a game or some experiment, some anonymous figure who you all could just try out to see what the hype was.” the words taste like guilt and doubt and something rawer, something closer to heartbreak.

“i know i agreed to all of it,” you admit, quieter now, “and i know this was supposed to be just content—but somewhere along the way, i let my guard down, and i can’t help but feel foolish for it.” your eyes sting, but you blink quickly, refusing to let your vulnerability show any more than it already has. “my mind kept spiraling… thinking maybe it was for clout, or worse���a bet.” your voice tightens on the last word, the pressure mounting behind your sternum like a dam about to split. “i mean, why else would seven people—all so successful in their own right—end up so tangled in one girl’s content?” your arms cross instinctively over your chest as your gaze drops again, a protective reflex you didn’t know you still had left. “i just didn’t think i’d become so attached,” you finish, barely above a whisper now, “not when i promised myself i wouldn’t.”

the room remains still for a moment until finally, someone speaks—sunghoon. he leans forward slightly from his seat, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together like he’s been holding them still for hours. “i did it to understand,” he says, voice calm but honest, eyes trained directly on yours. “heeseung and jay—i’ve never seen them so... different. they wouldn’t stop talking about you, about how filming with you felt like something else entirely.” he lets out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “i got curious, nosy even, and maybe that was selfish—but it wasn’t for a laugh. i wanted to know what they meant when they said you made them feel something.” his voice softens further. “and when i met you… when we actually filmed together… it wasn’t about curiosity anymore. it was about you.”

“you made me feel something that night that i haven’t been able to shake since,” sunghoon confesses, leaning in just enough to make your breath catch. “you were gentle and confident and so goddamn sincere, and it hit me all at once that this wasn’t just content. not for me. not for any of us.” he sits back, gaze still locked to yours with something so open and raw it makes your chest ache. “i want to know more about you, y/n. not just the version i’ve seen in front of the camera, but all of you—the real parts you haven’t let anyone else see yet.” you can’t move. can’t speak. can only stare, your entire world tipped sideways again as the weight of his words settles into the silence. and somehow, deep down, you know he isn’t the only one who feels this way.

you don’t expect heeseung to speak next, not when he’s sitting so still, elbows on his knees, fingers woven together like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, but the moment sunghoon’s voice fades into silence, he lifts his head and locks eyes with you—and it’s like the air changes. “do you want to know why i never told you?” he asks quietly, and the sharp edge in his tone startles you. “because i didn’t want this to happen.” his voice is raw now, thick with something deeper than just frustration—it’s laced with regret, with something so heavy it nearly takes your breath away. “i didn’t want you to look at us like this. like we were playing you, like we were some fucking group project you didn’t sign up for. because that’s not what this ever was for me.” he shifts forward, closer than before, and you can feel the warmth of his stare—burning, sincere, full of tension he’s tried too hard to contain. “you were the first one. you were the one who made all of this real in the first place. i didn’t go into it thinking anything would happen, didn’t think i’d care beyond a good collab and moving on—but then you looked at me, touched me like i was more than a body in a video, and i’ve been fucked ever since.” he runs a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. “and then jay, then jake, then everyone else started acting different. like they were seeing the same thing i saw in you. and i hated it—hated how much it made me feel like i was losing something that was never even mine to begin with.” his gaze hardens for just a second before softening again, dropping momentarily to your lips, and then right back to your eyes. “but you were mine first. and maybe that doesn’t mean anything now, maybe i don’t have the right to claim you, but it means something to me. you were the start of all this, and if i had known where it would lead, i swear to god i would’ve stopped it. i would’ve kept you all to myself. because the way you made me feel that night—like i was the only one in the world who mattered—it hasn’t gone away. and i don’t think it ever will.”

the tension in the room thickens like a storm front, heavy and static as niki shifts forward in his seat, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable but brimming with heat. his eyes don’t leave heeseung as he speaks, low and firm, the weight of his words making the air feel colder. “you don’t get to claim her just because you were the first,” he says, each syllable slow and deliberate, cutting through the silence like a blade. “we all feel something for her, heeseung—we all gave a part of ourselves, even if it was just once. you think that just because you had her first, that gives you some kind of head start?” his voice cracks slightly with frustration, his throat tight with everything he’s been holding back. “you think the rest of us don’t lie awake at night replaying every moment we shared with her?” he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head as he finally looks away, trying to compose himself. “you might’ve met her before us, but don’t you dare act like our feelings are any less real.”

heeseung’s gaze flickers, the smugness gone from his face, replaced by something harder to name—guilt, maybe, or the realization that this isn’t as simple as he thought. his fingers curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak, like the air’s been knocked out of him by the sheer honesty of niki’s words. niki, still staring ahead, continues, his tone softer now but no less intense, the vulnerability beneath his confidence slipping through. “we all watched her change us, one by one. we all wanted to be enough.” the truth hangs there, raw and exposed, something none of them dared to voice until now. the room stills again, no one daring to move as the weight of what niki said settles across them like a shadow. you sit there in the center of it all, your heart thudding against your ribs, overwhelmed by the way each of them keeps proving that this isn’t just about lust—it’s about longing. and now, with no more room to pretend, you realize you have a choice to make—but you’re not the only one trembling at the thought of what comes next.

you sit frozen for a moment, eyes flicking between them all as the tension coils tighter, like a thread pulled taut. your heart aches at the way their voices shake, the way niki's honesty echoes in the room, the way heeseung swallows down words that almost seem too heavy to say. they're all hurting, you realize—caught in a war that none of you asked for but all of you helped build. your hands clasp together tightly in your lap as you inhale slowly, grounding yourself in the weight of this decision, in the pounding of your pulse. “okay,” you breathe out, voice quiet but steady, the softness of it enough to draw their attention. “that’s enough. i didn’t bring you all here to tear each other apart or fight for some title.” your eyes lift, watery and raw, as you meet each gaze in turn. “i brought you here because i’ve already made my choice.”

they’re still now, completely still, like the whole room is holding its breath with you. the words sit heavy on your tongue, but once they start spilling, they don’t stop. “i want all of you,” you confess, voice trembling just enough to show how deeply you mean it. “i want every single one of you, because i can’t choose. i won’t.” your throat tightens as you shake your head, fingers loosening as you let your hands fall into your lap. “i fell for different parts of you—for heeseung’s quiet tenderness, for jay’s intensity, for jake’s gentleness, for sunghoon’s fire, for sunoo’s light, for jungwon’s sincerity, and for niki’s depth.” the silence after your words is thick and warm, the kind that lingers after truth is laid bare. “how could i ever ask myself to only want one, when loving each of you felt just as real?”

you watch their faces shift—eyes widening, jaws slack, mouths parting slightly as they take in your confession. “it would destroy me to choose,” you whisper, eyes flicking downward before rising again. “because no matter who i’d pick, i'd lose the rest. and i already know i can’t handle that. not when you’ve each carved out places inside me that i can’t just ignore.” you look toward the ground again as your heart pounds louder in your chest, afraid of the silence that follows, but determined not to take the words back. “i know this might not make sense. maybe it’s selfish of me,” you admit, biting the inside of your cheek. “but if any of you are willing to set your jealousy aside... if you’re open to seeing where this can really go with me... together... i want that.”

there’s a crack in your voice by the end, a thread of fear that still lives there, but it’s softened by the truth. you’re scared—of being rejected, of being seen differently, of being too much—but your heart has never been this certain. you watch them, one by one, as they absorb every word, their expressions unreadable at first, slowly melting into something more complicated than anger or longing. you feel vulnerable, standing in front of them with your soul laid bare, but there’s something freeing in it too—like finally stepping into your own truth. “i’m not asking for easy,” you add softly. “but i am asking you to try. because i know what i feel, and i know it’s real. i just need to know if you feel it too.”

there’s a pause—a soft breath in the room, almost like the air itself is waiting for someone to move first. it’s jake who does. he steps forward slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, wide and warm and glassy with emotion. your heart jumps into your throat as he comes closer, the tension in your shoulders locking into place before he lifts a hand gently to the side of your face. his palm is warm, thumb brushing along your cheek, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you—like he’s memorizing every inch. and then, before you can even react, his lips are on yours in a kiss so full of longing that your knees nearly give out.

his mouth moves slowly against yours at first, reverent, like he’s worshipping the very moment. “i’ll do it,” he breathes against your lips, the words brushing into your skin like a promise. “i’ll do anything… anything that involves you in it.” another kiss, deeper this time, as he tilts your head just enough to make it last longer. “if it means sharing this with them,” he murmurs between kisses, “i’ll do it in a heartbeat.” your fingers instinctively clutch at the fabric of his shirt, overwhelmed by the honesty spilling from his mouth and the way he kisses you like he’s been holding back for years. “because at the end of the day,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours, “i’ll have the girl that’s been living in my head since the first time i touched her.”

he doesn’t say it in a rush or in a way that demands a response. it’s gentle, unwavering, and raw. you can feel the truth of it in the way he holds you, in the way his hands don’t wander but stay grounded—one at your jaw, one steady at your waist. there’s something grounding about jake, even in a room full of shifting feelings and emotional chaos. the others don’t interrupt, not yet, watching in a stillness that holds no bitterness. maybe because they feel it too—that this is jake’s moment, and yours. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face before dipping down again, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips like punctuation.

“i want this,” he says quietly, so only you can hear. “you… all of this. whatever it looks like, however messy it gets. if it’s with you, i’m in.” his arms come around you gently, not caging you in, but welcoming you in fully. and for a brief, shimmering moment, everything in you softens—like your heart finally knows what safety tastes like. the room is still again, but it’s different now. the tone has shifted, charged not with tension, but with choice. jake chose you—fully, freely, and with everything he has.

the moment jake finally steps back from you, the air feels heavier, charged with anticipation as your gaze slowly shifts to sunoo. he stands a little apart from the others, eyes glassy, his fingers knotted together in front of him like he’s holding himself back from something—like he’s terrified to move forward and even more terrified to be left behind. “are you really sure about this?” he asks, voice feather-soft but laced with something raw, something cracked. “you can reject me if that’s what’s in your heart,” he continues, not meeting your eyes now, lashes lowered as his throat bobs with a swallow that nearly breaks your own heart, “i just… i don’t want you to choose this out of guilt. not for me. not for any of us.” your breath catches in your throat at the trembling in his tone, at how small he suddenly looks despite the strength he’s shown in every other setting, and it’s that look—that aching vulnerability—that makes your feet move before you can think. your hands rise gently to cup his face, thumbs brushing softly against the warm streaks of tears trailing down his cheeks, and his lips part on a quiet gasp as he finally looks at you. “sunoo,” you whisper, your voice just as shaky now, but steady in its conviction, “you don’t understand. this isn’t something i’m doing to protect anyone… it’s what i want.”

your forehead leans against his as his breath hitches, his hands slowly coming up to hold your wrists, gentle like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “i want you,” you whisper again, your eyes falling shut as the tears burn behind your lids, “i want all of you, because each of you mean something to me that i can’t ignore.” your voice grows steadier as you go on, your words pouring out like a confession you’ve waited days to finally admit. “i’ve thought about it over and over—what it would feel like to choose just one of you, to let the others go, and it doesn’t feel right. it never did. i care for each of you so deeply, in ways i never expected to, and the idea of losing any of you just…” your breath shakes as you pull back slightly, enough to look at him fully, your eyes glossy but unwavering. “i wouldn’t survive it. and if you’ll let me—if you all will—i want to try. all of us… together.”

there’s a silence that settles over the room again, but this time, it feels entirely different—charged, pulsing, expectant. your lips are still tingling from the soft pressure of sunoo’s breath, your hands trembling slightly at your sides now that you’ve said everything out loud. and then, from the left, you feel movement—slow, assured footsteps that draw closer with every second until jay stands before you, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with something deep and golden. “you have no idea what this means to us,” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion and want, his fingers lifting gently to brush a strand of hair away from your face. and then he’s kissing you—not rushed or ravenous, but like he’s waited far too long and doesn’t want to scare the moment away, his lips fitting over yours with practiced heat, with reverence, with something deeper than desire. your breath catches in your throat as his hand curls around your waist, holding you steady while your body begins to lean into his instinctively, already craving more. and when he pulls back, barely, just far enough for his mouth to brush against your cheekbone, he whispers, “you’re all i’ve wanted since that first night, and i would’ve followed you anywhere, even if you didn’t choose me.” you barely have time to recover before another warmth presses behind you, and a mouth finds your shoulder.

it’s sunghoon, his presence unmistakable from the soft drag of his lips over the skin between your neck and your collarbone, his arm coiling loosely around your waist from behind as if to ground you there. “we’re not going to let you go now,” he murmurs between slow, featherlight kisses, his nose nuzzling the slope of your throat like he’s already addicted to the way you smell. “you made your choice,” he continues, his voice husky now, deeper than before, “and we’re going to show you how happy we are that you did.” heeseung comes next, his hand sliding up to gently cradle your jaw, tipping your chin toward him with such tenderness that your eyes flutter open just in time to see the raw adoration written across his face. he doesn’t kiss you right away—he just stares, long enough to let the moment bloom between you, then dips down slowly, reverently, until his lips meet yours in a kiss that feels like everything you’ve both been holding back. and while your lips mold together, you feel jake’s hands at your hips, guiding your body just slightly toward his so he can lean in and press his mouth to the curve of your neck. “i don’t care what this looks like to the rest of the world,” he breathes, his fingers tightening on your waist as he speaks. “i’ll take whatever this is if it means i get to have you.”

sunoo’s back at your side now, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both delicate and possessive, his lips brushing over the top of your shoulder while he whispers, “you’re everything to us now… just tell us what you need.” and last comes jungwon, standing before you with a gaze that could melt stone, his mouth parting slightly as he leans in and presses the softest, slowest kiss to your temple. “we’re yours,” he says simply, his thumb brushing under your eye like he’s memorizing you, like he’s afraid this will vanish into smoke if he doesn’t touch you one more time. their hands are on you now—light, worshipful, lingering touches to your arms, your waist, your back, your hips—as if they’ve all silently agreed that this is the beginning of something sacred, something not just born from lust, but the kind of devotion that simmers underneath every word, every glance, every video that ever led to this moment. your head is swimming, not from confusion, but from the weight of being seen and wanted this wholly, this completely, this truthfully—and you’re ready now. ready for whatever comes next.

niki doesn’t wait—doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate—his hands grip your waist suddenly and pull you effortlessly down into his lap, your knees straddling his thighs before your mind can catch up to the motion. the air rushes from your lungs at the feel of him beneath you, hard and warm, as his lips crash into yours like he’s been starving for them, like every second of restraint from earlier has finally broken free. he kisses you hungrily, teeth grazing your lower lip as his tongue licks into your mouth with a sense of urgency that makes your head spin and your fingers clutch at his shoulders. behind you, you feel hands ghosting along your back—softer, steadier—and when you glance over your shoulder, it’s jungwon who’s there, his expression serious but his hands reverent as they slide up your blouse. “let me take this off,” he murmurs, and the words are so gentle, so respectful, that you nod before he even finishes, letting your arms lift as he pulls the fabric over your head and exposes your bare skin to the cool air. you feel eyes on you immediately—heat radiating not just from niki beneath you, but from the way the rest of the boys have now seated themselves along the couch beside him, each of them watching intently as if hypnotized. jay’s jaw is tense but his gaze is soft, while sunghoon leans forward, arms resting on his knees like he’s holding himself back from moving toward you right then. heeseung’s eyes are dark and unreadable, but his hand has flexed into a fist on his thigh, and jake’s already licking his bottom lip slowly, like he’s imagining what it’d taste like to kiss you again.

your breath shudders as niki mouths at your neck now, his teeth scraping lightly along your collarbone before his hands come around to slide up your spine, holding you closer, firmer against him. “fuck,” he mutters against your skin, almost like a prayer, “you’re so goddamn perfect like this.” jungwon’s fingertips trail down your sides, caressing every inch like he’s cataloging you by touch alone, but he stays close, not wanting to take over—just wanting to be near you, to feel your skin under his palms while niki devours your mouth again. there’s a tension building in the room now, not the kind that burns quickly, but the kind that simmers—slow, aching, anticipatory—as if each of them is waiting for their turn, watching carefully, memorizing the way your body moves and responds. and in the center of it all, you feel it—the control, the attention, the heat—your pulse hammering under your skin as you sit there on niki’s lap with your blouse gone, your breath shared between kisses and the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

niki’s hands slide under your skirt like they’ve been waiting their whole life to do it, his touch so warm and certain as his fingers trace the soft inside of your thigh. he’s teasing at first, ghosting over where you need him most, while his other hand anchors you to him with a possessive grip on your hip. behind you, jungwon presses closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear before lowering to your neck, kissing slow and tender as if to soothe the ache building inside of you. he starts to suck at the skin just below your jaw, soft at first, then deeper, like he wants to leave his mark there—wants everyone else to see where he’s been. sunoo moves in next, his expression unreadable but his hands delicate as they help slide the remaining straps from your bra down your shoulders, careful with every touch. you feel him press a kiss just above your heart before his mouth finds your breast, sucking gently, then with growing intensity, his tongue swirling over your nipple until it hardens under his attention. your body arches against all of them—niki’s fingers edging closer, jungwon’s lips dragging fire down your skin, sunoo’s mouth wrapped around you—and the sensation of it all has you moaning helplessly, the sound slipping out like a secret you can’t contain. the others are still seated but watching, their eyes dark, their jaws tight, and every time you glance at one of them—heeseung’s lips parting slightly, jay’s brow twitching with restraint, sunghoon’s leg bouncing, jake’s tongue dragging over his bottom lip—you feel their words melt into your ears, murmured filth that makes your thighs tremble and your body cry out for more.

you feel like you’re floating, surrounded by heat and hands and mouths, and every time your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the dark, starved gazes of the others watching from the couch, eyes low, hands twitching, jaws clenched in restraint. they whisper to you from where they sit, each voice distinct—jake’s low and velvety, heeseung’s rougher, jay’s dripping with praise, sunghoon’s smooth and taunting—and their words wrap around you like a silk ribbon, reminding you who you belong to now.

you hear jake’s voice first, quiet and close, a little cracked around the edges like he’s barely holding himself together. “look at you, baby… so good for them already,” he murmurs, and your head turns weakly toward him, lips parted in a gasp as niki presses harder against your clothed clit. “i’ll have you moaning louder than that soon. just wait.” jay chuckles lowly beside him, eyes dragging down your body like he’s committing every detail to memory. “our perfect little girl,” he hums, “so responsive. so fucking pretty when she’s falling apart like this.” sunghoon leans forward slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the cushion like he’s resisting the urge to lunge. “can’t believe we’ve all been holding back like this,” he mutters, “fuck—i need to hear her say my name.” you tilt your head back as another breathless moan slips from your lips, and heeseung’s gaze snaps to your face, his eyes dark and wide, throat working as he swallows hard. “just like that, baby,” he encourages you, voice tight. “you look so good like this, fuck, i can’t wait to taste you again.”

niki finally slides the fabric aside, two fingers slipping between your folds, and the room fades around you for a second—all you can feel is him, slowly curling up inside of you as his lips stay locked to yours. you moan so loudly into his mouth that even sunoo pauses, glancing up at your face with a blown-out look of awe. your walls clench around niki’s fingers, your legs trembling, hips jerking forward as he strokes you from the inside like he’s trying to memorize every texture.

the contrast of cool air on your skin and their warm hands makes your spine arch and your lips part again, another moan slipping past as you instinctively roll your hips into niki’s palm. sunoo’s mouth is back on your breasts, hungrier now, his tongue flicking fast while his teeth graze softly over your skin and his hands hold you in place. jungwon trails open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone, whispering things you can’t fully hear—something about how beautiful you are, how soft, how perfect this moment is. you can’t respond, too lost in sensation, too wrapped up in the way all three of them are touching you at once while the others look on, voices overlapping like a filthy chorus of praise.

jake stands from the couch finally, unable to keep still, his hands running through his hair as he makes his way toward you, biting down on his lip to suppress a groan. he kneels next to niki, close enough for your thighs to brush his arm, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt. he leans in, tilts your chin up, and kisses you like he’s been aching for it—slow, deep, greedy. he tastes like longing and devotion and a touch of desperation, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t kiss you now, he might never get the chance again. heeseung’s next, walking around behind you with a look in his eyes that’s equal parts reverence and hunger, fingers gently threading through your hair before leaning down to kiss the spot on your neck that jungwon had left behind. jay follows, his hand slipping around your side to hold your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering a moment too long like he’s savoring your taste. sunghoon brushes his knuckles over your thigh, gaze focused and lips parted as he slowly drops to his knees, his head close to jake’s, his breath ghosting over your skin. they’re surrounding you now—touching, kissing, whispering, hungry.

you feel like the air has changed—thicker, sweeter, laced with something electric that crackles over your skin and makes you whimper as niki pumps his fingers deeper inside you. your head falls back again, your breath catching in your throat as sunoo takes your breast between his lips, tugging and sucking with more force as if he knows you’re getting close. “so fucking pretty,” he mutters, tongue flicking fast as you cry out. “you’re gonna come just from this, huh?” jungwon kisses along your jawline, whispering praise so soft it makes your eyes flutter shut. “let go, baby. you’re safe. we’ve got you.” jake’s hand slides up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he watches every flicker of pleasure across your face. “you’re everything, you know that?” he whispers. “our everything.” heeseung’s voice joins next, low and gritty near your ear, his arms around your waist as he steadies you. “we’ll take care of you. all of us. just say the word.”

the words blend into touches, kisses, filthy promises spoken against your skin as your climax builds with every stroke, every kiss, every groan breathed against your throat. your body trembles, thighs clenching around niki’s wrist, your nails digging into jake’s shoulder as your hips stutter against his hand. they’re all watching you now—holding you, whispering to you, grounding you—as your orgasm hits like a wave, crashing through you so hard you cry out with no shame. niki groans with you, fucking you through it with his fingers, his eyes locked to your face like he never wants to forget how you look when you come. sunoo bites down gently on your breast before licking over it apologetically, while jungwon kisses your temple, arms sliding around you protectively. your body slumps slightly, chest heaving, but they don’t move away. instead, they hold you tighter—pressing kisses to your skin, whispering how beautiful you looked, how good you did for them, how much more they still want to give you.

you step away from niki slowly, the heat of his presence still lingering behind you as you turn your attention to heeseung and jay. your fingers trail up their torsos, teasing along the hem of their shirts before you press both of them back toward the couch. they let you guide them with ease, their bodies already responding, hips twitching slightly as your palms drag over the firm outlines of their bulges. the soft, barely-there pressure has them exhaling in sharp, shaky breaths, and you can hear the hiss of surprise slip from heeseung’s lips when your thumbs press just a little harder against the straining fabric of his jeans.

"take these off..." you purr, voice low and syrupy as your gaze flickers up at them with heavy intent. they don’t hesitate. in a few quick motions, denim and boxers are pushed down and kicked aside, their thick cocks springing free—already hard, the tips flushed and glistening with precum under the low, amber glow of the living room light. your mouth waters at the sight, and you waste no time wrapping a hand around each shaft, your fingers curling snug around their lengths, your thumbs brushing against the slick heads as you begin to stroke them slowly, teasingly.

your face inches forward, tongue flicking out to catch the drip that escapes jay first. heeseung watches with wide, desperate eyes as your lips wrap around the tip of jay’s cock, the wet heat of your mouth sinking down just enough to have him curse through clenched teeth. "oh fuck, princess..." heeseung groans, voice rough, chest rising as his hand twitches like he doesn’t know whether to grip the couch or your hair. your left hand tightens around him in response, giving him a slow pump as you swirl your tongue over jay’s slit.

jay’s head falls back with a low groan, his mouth parted and slack as he tries to keep his composure. his fingers clench into fists at his sides, unsure of where to touch, how to ground himself, overwhelmed by the feel of your warm lips wrapped so sweetly around just his tip. his abs tense beneath his shirt, and when your gaze flicks up to catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip, the needy sound that escapes you makes both of them shudder in anticipation.

you pull back with a soft pop, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to jay’s swollen tip before breaking as you turn your head to face heeseung. the way he looks at you—eyes dark and hooded, jaw tight with restraint—makes your core clench. he’s barely holding it together, hips twitching upward when you lean in and lick a slow, deliberate stripe up the underside of his cock. his head tilts back, an almost growl-like moan rumbling from his chest as you swirl your tongue around the head, collecting the salty beads of precum gathered there.

“fuck, baby…” heeseung rasps, his voice wrecked, a hand reaching down to cradle your cheek for just a second before retreating, afraid to disrupt the rhythm of your mouth. you smile against his tip before sinking down a little further, your lips stretching around him while your hand continues pumping jay beside you—slow, steady strokes that make his thighs tense and his chest rise and fall like he’s on the edge. the dual sensation of having both of them twitching in your hands and mouth sends a rush of power through you, addictive and heady.

jay can’t stop watching you, his eyes locked on the way your throat works around heeseung, the soft wet sounds of your mouth filling the room. “jesus christ,” he murmurs under his breath, hips shifting like he wants more, like he’s barely keeping himself from pushing into your grip. his hands finally rise, hovering awkwardly before settling on the edge of the couch, his fingers digging into the cushions for something to hold on to. you can feel how badly they both want to let go—how close they are to losing themselves in the way you look between them, lips swollen and glistening, eyes fluttering closed with every slow bob of your head.

you switch again, pulling off heeseung with a slick gasp, your hand immediately stroking him as you turn your mouth back to jay. he lets out a breathless curse the moment your tongue touches him again, your lips wrapping around his flushed head while you squeeze the base with a teasing twist of your wrist. “fuck—keep doing that,” jay breathes, his voice shaking, his eyes screwed shut as your mouth moves just a little deeper. you moan around him on purpose, the vibrations shooting through his shaft and making his hips buck slightly despite himself.

heeseung watches, completely wrecked by the sight—his cock throbbing in your grip, your fingers gliding through the mess of precum smeared across his skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he whispers, barely audible, as if the words were dragged from him without permission. his thumb brushes your jawline when you pause again, a sweet, messy breath leaving you as you look up through your lashes, spit shining your lips, your hands working both of them in tandem like it’s second nature.

“you like that?” you ask softly, voice soaked in wicked innocence, your breath fanning over their cocks as you stroke them. “you like watching me get messy just for you?”

they nod in sync—silent, breathless, entirely at your mercy. and you smile, slow and sultry, before leaning in once more. this time, you don’t choose between them. instead, you let your tongue flick from one tip to the other, teasing them both at once until their hips stutter and their mouths fall open in matching moans that echo off the walls of heeseung’s dimly lit apartment.

you giggle softly at the way they react—so sensitive, so eager, so fucking close to unraveling just from your mouth and hands alone. their hips twitch toward you, needy and instinctual, and you don’t deny them. instead, you lean in further, letting your tongue glide between their tips again before you wrap your lips around both heads at once, sucking softly, your cheeks hollowing just enough to make them both groan in unison. the sound is filthy—wet and warm and low and broken—and it vibrates straight through your core, slick pooling between your thighs as you drink in every strained breath they let out.

“fuck, fuck—just like that,” jay gasps, his voice barely a whisper, strained and breathless as his hand finally finds the back of your head. he doesn’t push, doesn’t grip—just holds, trembling fingers threaded through your hair like he needs the anchor to keep from falling apart. your left hand continues to stroke heeseung, twisting just right as your lips slide between them again, alternating slow sucks and flicks of your tongue over their tips until precum coats your mouth, sticky and warm and addictive.

heeseung’s voice cracks when he speaks, desperate and low. “you’re driving me insane,” he groans, eyes glazed as he watches you take turns between them, completely entranced by the sight of your lips wrapped around jay’s cock while your hand keeps his own throbbing, aching for more. he looks like he’s seconds from snapping—shoulders tense, abs flexing, mouth parted in stunned awe. “fuck, baby… i can’t—i’m gonna lose it if you keep doing that.”

you pull back just enough to breathe, lips swollen and glossy, spit and precum smeared across your chin as you look up at them with that innocent little smile that only makes it worse. “but i’m not even halfway done with you,” you murmur, voice teasing and sweet, almost mocking with how calm you sound compared to their unraveling. “don’t tell me you’re already gonna come?”

jay curses under his breath, chest rising with a shaky inhale as you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the head and then do the same to heeseung. both of them watch in complete silence, lips parted, eyes wide as your mouth moves between them like you were made for this—meant to tease them side by side, meant to be on your knees with their cocks in your hands, taking your time as if you weren’t driving them both mad with every second that passed.

you press a kiss to heeseung’s tip and then another to jay’s, slow and wet, before you begin to stroke them harder—tighter, faster, your wrists moving in tandem with practiced rhythm as your mouth returns to suckle at the head of whichever one twitches first. their moans grow louder, more ragged, filling the apartment with breathless desperation and the lewd sound of your hands and mouth working them over.

“gonna come,” jay finally groans, his voice cracking as his fingers tighten in your hair, his hips twitching despite how hard he’s trying to stay still. “fuck—fuck, please don’t stop…”

you don’t. you keep going, keep stroking, keep sucking, your mouth switching between them in messy, hungry little laps of attention, until both of them are right at the edge—hips stuttering, thighs trembling, eyes rolling back as they lose themselves completely in the feeling of you using them like your personal toys. and you’re loving every second of it.

heeseung’s the first to lose it. his breath catches in his throat, sharp and ragged, as his cock twitches hard in your fist. “shit—fuck, i’m coming,” he grits out, hips jerking as the first thick spurt paints across your knuckles and wrist. you keep stroking him through it, slow and firm, watching every tremble of his abdomen, every flutter of his lashes as his head tips back against the couch, mouth parted in a silent moan. cum spills freely, dripping from your hand as you squeeze the last drops from him, the mess trailing down onto his thighs and soaking into the fabric beneath him.

you don’t pause—not for a second. the moment heeseung falls limp in your grip, you’re already sinking your mouth back onto jay’s cock, hungry and unrelenting. your hand is still pumping him, tight and fast, but now your lips wrap around his flushed head, your tongue circling the slit with desperate, greedy pressure. jay lets out a strangled sound, his thighs spreading wider as he gives in fully, no longer trying to hold back or hide how close he is. “oh my god, baby—fuck—i can’t,” he chokes out, his hand gripping your shoulder as his whole body tenses beneath your touch.

he comes hard, his hips stuttering against your mouth, cock pulsing between your lips as warm, salty spurts coat your tongue. you hum softly as he spills, swallowing around him, letting his release flood your throat with a satisfied moan that only makes his grip on you tighten. you don’t move, not until he finishes twitching, not until his chest deflates and his grip loosens and he slumps back into the couch like he’s been completely drained of breath and thought and sanity.

you finally pull back, slow and messy, a string of saliva and cum connecting your mouth to the softening tip of his cock before it snaps and drips down your chin. both of them are staring at you—fucked out, wide-eyed, wrecked. your cheeks are flushed, your lips swollen, your chest rising with shallow breaths as you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your fingers still sticky from heeseung’s release.

you slowly rise to your feet, the room heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, your hands moving to the hem of your skirt. it slips off easily, pooling around your ankles in a soft heap. your panties cling to your soaked cunt as you peel them down, the damp fabric sliding along your thighs before joining the skirt on the floor. your bare skin prickles in the cool air, arousal glistening between your legs, but before you can move any further, sunghoon’s hands are on you.

he pulls you down gently but firmly, laying you flat on the floor beneath him like you’re something fragile and precious, something he wants to worship. his palms glide down the curve of your back, the touch warm and slow and greedy. when they reach the swell of your ass, he squeezes once—then pulls back and delivers a soft, open-palmed smack. the recoil of your flesh has his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second, a low groan spilling from his lips like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon.

“fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, princess…” he murmurs, voice trembling with reverence as his eyes trail over every inch of your body. he leans back just enough to fist his cock in one hand, already hard and leaking, the tip flushed and angry. he strokes it lazily, precum spilling down the shaft as he brings it to your center, dragging the head slowly through your slick folds. the sound alone—wet, sticky, obscene—has your breath hitching. his cock catches against your clit on each pass, and you can’t stop the way your hips roll forward, needy and shameless.

your eyes drift past him, taking in the rest of the room. niki’s still exactly where you left him—leaning back against the wall, one hand stroking himself in slow, tight motions as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. his lips are parted, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, his focus unblinking. beside him, sunoo sits with a flush high on his cheeks, gaze locked between your legs. his thighs are squeezed together, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth like he’s trying not to moan aloud.

just beyond them, jungwon sits close to jake, both of them eerily still. jungwon’s eyes are impossibly dark, the kind of stare that pins you in place, makes your pulse race with how intense it is. jake leans slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he watches sunghoon line himself up. both of their hands rest in their laps, but you know it won’t stay that way for long. their hunger is palpable—thick in the air, swirling around you, coating your skin like a second layer.

you’re spread open beneath them, slick and aching, sunghoon’s cock sliding through your folds like it belongs there. and you can feel every pair of eyes on you—watching, waiting, wanting.

sunghoon breathes out a shaky curse, his hand tightening around the base of his cock as he guides it to your entrance. he pauses just long enough to look at you—really look at you—his other hand resting on your hip like he’s steadying himself. the tip nudges against your soaked hole, parting you slowly, the stretch enough to make your thighs twitch, your back arching slightly off the floor in anticipation.

“just like that,” he whispers, almost to himself, like he’s in a trance. and then he pushes in.

inch by inch, his cock sinks into you, the burn delicious, your walls fluttering and clenching down around him as you gasp beneath the weight of it. he’s thick—long—and the slow, unhurried pace he sets feels agonizing in the best way. your pussy draws him in greedily, wet and welcoming, the sound of your bodies meeting echoing softly off the walls. he buries himself to the hilt with a deep groan, his fingers pressing hard into your hips as he holds himself there, just breathing, just feeling you wrapped around him.

you whimper softly, the stretch making your thighs tremble, your fingers curling against the floor as your walls pulse around his cock. sunghoon stays still for a beat, his head tipping forward, hair falling into his eyes as he exhales slowly like he’s trying not to fall apart too soon. “so fucking tight,” he murmurs, hips twitching as he begins to draw back, slow and steady, only to sink into you again with a little more force.

your eyes flutter open and shift toward the others—niki’s hand is moving faster now, his gaze locked on the way sunghoon’s cock disappears inside you, the way your back arches and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. sunoo’s legs are spread, fingers tracing along his own cock through his pants as he watches with wide, fascinated eyes. jake’s leaned closer, jaw clenched tight, and jungwon—jungwon’s expression is unreadable, but his eyes haven’t left your face for even a second.

sunghoon sets a slow, grinding pace, each thrust purposeful, deep, like he’s trying to reach parts of you untouched. your breath comes in soft, desperate gasps, your hands sliding up his arms, nails dragging lightly down the muscle as he fucks into you with smooth, rolling thrusts. the pleasure builds slow and thick, coiling deep in your belly as your body trembles beneath his, your walls fluttering with every deep drag of his cock.

“feel so good around me,” sunghoon groans, one hand sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher, angling you just right to hit that spot that makes your breath catch and your head fall back. “you were made for this. made for me.”

and the way you whimper—needy and desperate—has all the others inching forward, unable to help themselves. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grow deeper, slower but heavier, grinding into you like he wants to leave an imprint—like he wants you to feel him there long after he pulls out. your hands slide up his back, nails raking lightly over his skin as his forehead presses to yours, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. his cock fills you so perfectly, the curve of it dragging against that sensitive spot inside you with every motion.

“look at you,” he breathes, voice soft and fucked-out, like he’s marveling at you, completely lost in the way your pussy clenches around him. “taking me so fucking well, baby… like you were made to be underneath me.”

you whimper in response, hips tilting to meet his rhythm, the friction building faster now—deeper. his thumb comes to press against your clit, slow circles drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches. the pleasure crawls up your spine like fire, and he watches every twitch, every tremble, like he’s memorizing it.

behind him, you hear the shift of movement, the sound of someone rising from the couch, and you don’t have to look to know it’s jake. his presence always lingers before he even speaks—a quiet heat that brushes over your skin. sunghoon notices too, his eyes flicking up just enough to catch jake standing over the two of you, his cock already out and in his hand, flushed and leaking, thick veins pulsing with anticipation.

“you gonna help her out?” sunghoon murmurs without stopping his pace, his voice low and teasing as he looks up at jake. “she’s being so good for me. think she deserves more.”

jake chuckles softly, stepping closer until he’s right by your head. “always knew she could take both,” he says with a little grin, eyes flicking down to meet yours as his fingers brush your cheek. “you want me too, baby?”

you don’t even hesitate—you nod, mouth falling open with a quiet, breathless “please.”

that’s all the encouragement jake needs. he drops to his knees beside you, cock in hand, and shifts just enough to guide the tip toward your lips. you open for him instinctively, tongue flicking out to taste him as sunghoon thrusts deeper into you from below. jake groans at the feeling, his head tipping back slightly as your mouth wraps around him, warm and wet and perfect.

“fuck—just like that,” he breathes, one hand settling gently at the back of your head, not pushing, just holding, guiding. “you’re so fucking pretty with your mouth full.”

your body is completely surrounded—sunghoon buried deep inside your dripping cunt, fucking you with smooth, rolling thrusts that make your thighs shake, and jake sliding into your mouth, his cock heavy on your tongue. your moans are muffled, swallowed by jake’s length, but they vibrate all the way through your body, making sunghoon groan as your pussy tightens around him.

“she’s so fucking tight,” sunghoon grits out, sweat beading at his temple as he fucks into you harder now, faster, the slap of his hips echoing through the room. “and still greedy enough to suck you off at the same time. fuck, princess... you're unreal.”

jake’s hand slides down your throat, feeling the way you swallow him with every slow bob of your head. his eyes darken as he watches the tears gather at the corners of your eyes, the stretch just enough to make your jaw ache—but you don’t stop. you don’t want to.

jake’s fingers curl at the base of your skull, holding you steady as his hips roll forward in gentle, shallow thrusts, easing his cock deeper onto your tongue with every pass. your throat tightens around him, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but you moan anyway—low and needy—because the pressure of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth only amplifies the way sunghoon is pounding into you from below.

“jesus, fuck,” jake groans, watching your lips stretch around him, your throat bulging just slightly with every slow thrust. “you were fucking made for this. so filthy, baby.”

sunghoon’s pace grows rougher now, his rhythm less measured and more desperate, driven by the sight of you completely split open between them. his cock slams into you harder, his pelvis grinding against your clit on every thrust, making you whimper around jake’s length. your hands are restless, fingers digging into sunghoon’s arms, your thighs trembling with the intensity of the pleasure ripping through you.

“she’s shaking,” sunghoon hisses, his voice strained, sweat dripping from his jaw as he presses his forehead to your chest. “fuck—she’s close.”

jake grins down at you, wiping away a trail of spit from your chin with his thumb before dragging it across your bottom lip. “you gonna come with your mouth full, sweetheart?” he teases, thrusting just a little deeper, your eyes fluttering as you gag around him. “gonna let hoon fuck it out of you while i use this pretty mouth?”

you try to answer, but it’s all muffled, wet, messy sounds and eager moans around his cock. your walls clamp down on sunghoon so tight it nearly knocks the breath out of him, his hips slamming forward one final time as he groans your name like a prayer. his cock hits that sweet spot again, over and over, and you break—loud and helpless, body spasming as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

your moan is stifled by jake’s cock, tears slipping from your eyes as your body goes rigid, cunt fluttering wildly around sunghoon as he fucks you through it. he’s growling now, a string of curses tumbling from his lips as he chases his own release, thrusting harder, deeper, until he can’t hold it anymore.

“fuck, fuck, baby—i’m coming,” he grits, his hips jerking forward as he spills inside you, hot and deep, his cum painting your walls in thick, pulsing waves. he collapses above you, still buried to the hilt, panting into your neck as your body trembles beneath his.

jake doesn’t let up. even as sunghoon comes down, he keeps thrusting gently into your mouth, watching the way your lashes flutter, the way your lips stay parted and willing despite how spent you are.

“you’re doing so good for us,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to let you breathe before sliding back in with a slow grind. “so perfect, baby. think you can take a little more?”

and the look you give him, eyes glassy, mouth swollen, body wrecked but still hungry—tells him everything he needs to know.

jake groans low in his throat at the sight of you—your lips red and glistening, spit and precum dripping down your chin, your thighs still twitching from the aftershocks of sunghoon’s release. you look ruined. ruined and so fucking willing. and he can’t help but fuck into your mouth a little deeper, a little rougher, the warmth of your throat driving him insane.

“god, you look so pretty like this,” he mutters, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as his cock slides past your lips again. “all fucked out… still letting me use your mouth like it’s mine.”

you moan in response, tongue flattening against the underside of his shaft as your hands reach for his thighs, trying to keep yourself steady. your lips seal around him tighter, your cheeks hollowing with each pass. he’s panting now, hips stuttering slightly as the heat in his stomach coils tight, ready to snap.

sunghoon slowly pulls out from between your legs, his cock softening, coated in both your slick and his cum. he leans back on his heels beside you, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he watches you work your mouth on jake. “fuck,” he says breathlessly, eyes trailing the mess between your thighs. “she’s dripping all over the floor.”

“yeah?” jake chuckles darkly, his voice strained. “and she’s about to be dripping down her throat too.”

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, your throat flexing around him, and that’s what finally tips him over the edge. his hips still, his cock buried deep in your mouth as he groans your name through gritted teeth, ropes of cum spilling down your throat in thick, hot waves. your eyes flutter shut as you swallow around him, greedily taking everything he gives you until he’s twitching and gasping above you.

“fuck, baby… just like that,” he whispers, pulling out slowly, watching a line of spit and cum stretch from your lips to his tip. “such a good fucking girl.”

you collapse back onto the floor, panting, throat sore, pussy aching, your body limp and glistening in the dim light. sunghoon’s hand finds your thigh again, stroking you gently, his fingers brushing over your soaked skin. jake’s still kneeling beside your head, fingers combing through your damp hair, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

you barely have time to catch your breath before niki’s fingers curl around your wrist, firm but careful as he helps pull you upright. his gaze is dark, unreadable, lips parted, chest rising with slow anticipation. you’re still trembling, sore and soaked, but when he tugs you gently toward him and settles down against the couch, spreading his legs wide and patting his thigh, you don’t hesitate.

you climb into his lap facing away, your knees bracketing his hips as your back arches and your hands brace against his thighs. his cock twitches beneath you, thick and hard, already dripping precum as he drags the head through your folds. you moan at the contact, body still oversensitive, but the burn of anticipation has your hips pushing down anyway, your cunt stretching wide to take him in.

niki groans behind you, his head falling back against the couch as your pussy swallows him inch by inch. “fuck… always knew you’d ride me like this,” he mutters, his voice low and tight. “look at that… fuckin’ perfect.”

you brace yourself as you sink fully onto his cock, the stretch making your thighs tremble, your walls clenching around him. he’s deeper like this, angled just right to hit that sweet spot with every shift of your hips. but before you can start moving, he wraps an arm around your waist and leans in to murmur against your shoulder.

“open your mouth, baby,” he says, and when you glance forward, your breath catches, sunoo and jungwon are kneeling on the floor in front of you now, their cocks hard and flushed, already in their fists.

you don’t even need to ask.

you lean forward, letting your hands find their hips for balance, and wrap your lips around sunoo’s cock first, your tongue licking up the underside as your hips start to move, bouncing slowly on niki’s cock. he moans beneath you, both hands gripping your ass as he helps you grind down on him, fucking you from below while your mouth works sunoo’s length.

sunoo whimpers the moment your lips close around him, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides before he finally gives in and threads his fingers through your hair. “shit—she’s so good,” he breathes, his cock twitching against your tongue as your head bobs in slow rhythm, matching the motion of your hips as you ride niki.

niki’s cock drags perfectly along your walls, his thrusts pushing up into you each time you sink down. your ass bounces against his thighs, the sound loud and wet, skin slapping against skin as he fucks you harder, growling behind you every time your pussy squeezes around him.

you switch to jungwon next, licking a stripe up his shaft before wrapping your lips around the head, your moans vibrating through his cock as he lets out a low, broken groan. his hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing your jaw as he guides himself deeper into your mouth.

“she’s so fucking messy,” he mutters under his breath, his voice tight as his abs tense. “taking all of us like she was meant for this.”

niki’s pace quickens beneath you, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks up harder, cock slamming into you over and over while your mouth drools around jungwon’s length. your body is overstimulated, raw and aching, but the sight of the boys above you—sunoo with flushed cheeks and parted lips, jungwon with that focused, dark stare—only drives you wilder.

you’re stuffed from every angle, lips stretched, cunt throbbing, your body reduced to nothing but pleasure, nothing but sensation.

sunoo’s cock slips from your lips with a soft, wet pop, strings of saliva connecting you to his tip as you gasp for breath, eyes glassy and mouth swollen. but you don’t stop—don’t even slow down. you let your head drop forward again, this time taking jungwon deeper, your lips wrapping around his shaft with eager hunger. his breath catches instantly, a strangled moan spilling from his throat as your tongue swirls around the head and you moan low, sending vibrations straight through him.

behind you, niki groans, his cock pulsing inside you as your pussy clamps down with every bounce. your ass smacks against his thighs, the rhythm loud and filthy, his hands spreading your cheeks wide to watch how wet you are, how you suck him in like you never want him to leave. “fuck—ride me just like that, baby,” he growls, thrusting up harder to meet every drop of your hips. “you feel so fucking good. so tight around me while you’ve got your mouth full of him.”

your thighs are shaking, slick dripping down the backs of them, your body overwhelmed but insatiable, every nerve ending lit up with pleasure. jungwon curses above you, voice breathless and strained as his hand fists in your hair. he doesn’t force you—just guides, just watches, eyes fluttering each time your lips slide further down his shaft.

“she’s choking on it,” he murmurs, almost in awe. “and still moving her hips like that…”

sunoo can’t take it anymore—he leans in, fingers ghosting along your jaw as he brings the head of his cock to your cheek. “open up for me again, baby,” he whispers, breath hitching. “wanna feel your tongue too.”

you tilt your head just enough to let him slide in beside jungwon, your lips stretching wide, spit pooling as you suck both of them, mouth working between their tips, switching back and forth. they both moan at the same time—low, desperate sounds—and it’s filthy, obscene, the sight of you spit-slicked and bouncing on niki’s cock while your mouth is full of two others, making their legs tremble.

niki can’t hold back anymore—he starts thrusting up harder, deeper, his grip on your hips bruising as he slams into you, cock dragging against your walls with each powerful snap. “fuck, i’m close,” he growls, watching your body ripple with every thrust, your back arched, head bobbing between sunoo and jungwon’s cocks. “you’re gonna make me fucking lose it.”

your moans are wet and muffled, drool spilling from your lips as you take them both, every part of you shaking with the force of niki’s thrusts. your walls squeeze around him like a vice, the angle hitting that perfect spot over and over, and before you can even warn him, your orgasm hits.

your body seizes, back arching, a choked cry escaping around their cocks as your pussy clenches hard around niki, milking him through your climax.

“fuck—fuck—i’m coming,” niki groans, hips jerking up one last time before he spills inside you, hot ropes of cum painting your insides, his body trembling beneath you.

your mouth doesn’t stop. you keep sucking, switching from jungwon to sunoo, moaning through the aftershocks as you chase their pleasure next. their cocks throb in your mouth, and you know they’re close—so fucking close—just waiting for your final push to unravel completely.

jungwon’s hand tightens in your hair, not to control you but because he’s barely hanging on. his breath is shaky, chest rising fast, abs flexing each time your mouth sucks him back in with that wet, eager sound that’s driven him crazy since the moment he first felt it. sunoo’s no better, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your spit-slicked skin like he can’t believe how good you feel.

“baby… please,” sunoo whimpers, his voice soft and desperate, like he’s begging for permission to let go. “fuck—just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

you don’t. you bob your head faster, letting your tongue flick between both of their tips, your lips shiny and stretched, jaw aching as drool drips freely down your chin. their cocks bump together each time you move, the mess only turning them on more, and you feel both of them twitch—one in your mouth, the other pressed against your tongue, as they edge closer to release.

niki groans beneath you, still buried deep, his hands smoothing over your thighs now, coaxing gentle little rolls of your hips as you ride out the last of your orgasm. he’s sensitive—overstimulated—but he won’t move. won’t pull out. just watches, eyes locked on the way your body takes everything so willingly.

“they’re gonna come,” he murmurs behind you, voice low and hoarse with pride. “and you’re gonna let them. aren’t you, baby?”

you moan around jungwon’s cock in response, the sound vibrating through him, making his entire body shudder. his other hand finds your face, guiding you to take more—just a little more—until your lips reach the base and your nose brushes his skin.

“fuck—fuck i’m gonna—” jungwon chokes out, hips stuttering. he pulls back just in time, cock slipping from your mouth as thick, hot ropes of cum paint your tongue, your lips, your chin. he groans low, fucking into his fist as the last spurts drip onto your chest, his eyes half-lidded, ruined.

before you can swallow, sunoo’s already taking his place, his cock sliding back past your lips with a desperate thrust. “me too, baby—me too,” he gasps, and then he’s spilling into your mouth, cum hitting your tongue fast and heavy, his hips twitching as he moans your name through clenched teeth.

you stay there, perfectly still, your mouth full, your chest rising with shallow breaths, cum dripping from your lips and chin as you slowly swallow around sunoo’s softening cock. his hand strokes your hair gently now, thumbing away the mess from your cheeks, his face flushed and dazed.

you finally pull back, panting, lips puffy, every inch of your skin glistening with sweat and spit and cum. niki kisses your spine softly from behind, still seated deep inside you, his hands resting on your hips like he can’t bear to let you go just yet.

sunoo and jungwon stare at you like you’re divine—mouth still parted, body trembling, hair messy and eyes glazed with the kind of satisfaction that only comes after being thoroughly, completely fucked.

your body finally slumps forward, the adrenaline fading into something slow and heavy, every muscle limp, every nerve buzzing. your thighs tremble with the lingering aftershocks, chest heaving, lips swollen and still tasting them. you're so thoroughly used, so blissfully spent, but not once do you feel empty because the moment your body starts to give, they’re all there.

niki wraps both arms around your waist from behind, gently pulling you off his softening cock, kissing along your spine as he lays you down across the couch like you’re made of glass. his palms run over your sides, grounding and slow. “you did so good, baby,” he whispers, brushing your damp hair away from your face. “so fucking perfect.”

sunoo is already at your side with a warm towel, carefully wiping away the mess from your cheeks and chest, taking his time like it’s an act of worship. “you didn’t even hesitate,” he murmurs, his voice soft with awe. “you took care of us… we’re so lucky to have you.”

jungwon kneels beside the couch, reaching up to intertwine his fingers with yours. his thumb strokes across your knuckles slowly, his gaze warm and tender. “you okay?” he asks gently. “need water? something sweet?”

you nod faintly, lips parting, but before you even speak, jake is already returning with a water bottle and a hoodie. “here,” he says, helping you sit up just enough to sip. “you were amazing, baby. really.”

sunghoon’s on the other side now, tucking the hoodie over your head carefully, letting it drape over your bare skin. “you’re so good to us,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “the way you handled all of us… fuck. i’ve never seen anything like it.”

heeseung settles at your feet, rubbing slow circles into your calf with his thumb, watching the way your lashes flutter as you start to come back to yourself. “you’re our angel,” he says softly. “and we’ll take care of you, always.”

you feel a kiss on your cheek. another on your shoulder. fingers brushing through your hair. your body might be aching, worn thin in the most delicious way but your heart is full. loved. cherished. safe.

they don’t rush you. they don’t pull away. they stay close, hands soft, touches gentle, every movement wrapped in care.

and as you curl into the warmth of their arms, a lazy smile on your lips, the last thing you hear before sleep begins to tug at your edges is a chorus of murmured praise—sweet, soft, and meant only for you.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ i don’t even know where to begin 🥲 premium content has become something so incredibly special to me—more than i ever imagined it would be. what started as a playful little idea slowly grew into a full story that i poured my whole heart (and a little too much filth 😵‍💫) into, and watching all of you connect with it the way you have?? it’s meant everything. the amount of love, support, messages, theories, and excitement around every chapter has completely overwhelmed me—in the best way possible. i genuinely don’t think words will ever fully express how thankful i am for this community, and how seen and supported you’ve made me feel as a writer. this fic has been a safe space for both fantasy and creativity, and to know that it has been cherished so much with love and support is all i could ever ask for. that being said… i’ve given it some thought. even though the main story has reached its final chapter (still sobbing), i’m not ready to say goodbye to these boys just yet. so i’ve decided that premium content will continue on in the form of drabbles and one-shots, whether they’re moments you request or little ideas that come to me along the way. i want to keep playing in this universe—keep exploring new scenarios and dynamics with them (and you) because this series deserves to live on a little longer 🤍 from the bottom of my heart—thank you for reading, for staying, and for loving premium content just as much as i have. i can’t wait to keep sharing more with you 🫶

taglistᝰ.ᐟ @starry-eyed-bimbo @vixialuvs @justaquarium @dark-moon-light02 @deobitifull @minjeong28 @wonzzziezzzz @wonsohl @psychicyouthfox @honeyfever @strayy-kidz @bloomiize @tunafishyfishylike @jaehaki @ihearteatingxo @songbyeonkim @sol3chu @mo0neng3ne @strxwbloody @hii01mii @merwdusa @dorrissakurada @lycxee @frequentlykit @heeenha6484 @sjakewrld @stwrlightt @parkjjongswifey @haneulhee @fr34k4c1dr41n @cozyre @vwricky @nyxtwixx @nuggets4lifers @yunkiconico @mynameis-rosie1 @leeknowslefteyebrow @babygguk98 @noiiny @horijiro @nshmrarki @delulumel @brooklyninawhitemustang @baedreamverse @stvrrylove @killedbycharlize @sehyojae @mylettterstoyou @metanoianlove @shaysimpss @kiokantalope @sanriwoozzz @mniwna @l1nn13 @gongyoorit @miszes @ineedheewoninmylife @seonhwastaar @ivyleyun @ari3ll4 @ssanhwatto @negin7 @koizekomi @enhaz1 @kittympirty @slayhaechan @semi-wife @tobiosbbyghorl @hoonsdrnkdzd @shy9-29 @heeenha6484 @heeseungsbm @kristynaaah @smlbch @kirinaa08 @millis-diary @kawaiichu32 @wonislife17 @minniesverse @k1ttyjwon @luvksnn @wondash @wooalt @sweetsoobie @nyxiebabyyy @jakezzgirlz @b1tem4rks @hoonneyyzz @mimimovv @hanjiversee @ch4c0nnenh4 @sarashusbandissunghoonfyime @tnafzi @bbypink @en-hoon02 @skzenhalove @azzy02 @sanchaah @planetmarlowe @miniw0nz @daisy-doo1 @femaholicc @cherryangel-coke @hooniesfvngs @kimsvtaes @mniwna @i-am-not-dal @star-hoon @wafflelyweddedmallow @certifiedjaeyunist @devouredyou @neogotmysam @nuki-riki @heesang07 @littlofang @simj4k3 @makgeolli-jw @ksnooppy @luvksnn @starryemiko @isagistar @nickiminajleftasscheek @jeonkaijoon @doveblackboat @haestuffs @srhnyx @azzy02 @bubblemoonclouds @diana021811 @wonuziex @blubb0 @choicila @nyfwyeonjun @neo-weareone @jooniesbears-blog @byshens @arourababy @dolliewon @shine1entertainment

[mishappeningss]

can we get more y/n and lewis? 😭 like after lewis leaves mercedes he sees her get very comfortable w her new teammates and low-key gets upset/jealous so she makes him feel better (and confirms that he is still her number one)

AURRRGHHH stoppp. there's no universe where yn and lewis aren't soulmates. never separate them.

more about driver!yn

The paddock felt colder this year. Or maybe it was just Lewis.

He wasn’t sad, per se. He was at Ferrari now, draped in blinding red, a new chapter unfolding in front of him.

But every time he passed the Mercedes garage, he still half-expected to hear her laugh echoing through it.

Until now, he never realized how much of his Mercedes life was her.

And today—God, today he wished he hadn’t looked.

Across the paddock, under the banner of a rival team, she stood laughing, arms slung over two of her new mechanics like she’d known them forever.

Luca, her race engineer, bumped her shoulder playfully. Kimi called her “trouble” and handed her a Red Bull can like it was some inside joke.

Lewis watched from a quiet corner. Helmet in hand. Swallowed the sudden ache in his throat.

“You alright, mate?” Charles asked beside him.

“Yeah,” Lewis said, a bit too fast. “Just… watching something I used to know.”

She didn’t even see him.

It wasn’t until much later, hours after the race, that she did.

He was sitting on the pit wall, half-dressed in Ferrari gear and scrolling through his phone like it might distract him from the pit in his stomach. He didn’t even hear her footsteps.

“Hey,” her voice cut through the silence.

Lewis glanced up. Her hair was damp from the post-race shower, face flushed with residual adrenaline.

She had her arms folded across her hoodie—his hoodie, actually. One she’d stolen years ago and still wore like a second skin.

“Hi,” he said, softer than he meant.

She tilted her head. “You looked like you were thinking sad poetry thoughts. Did Charles accidentally say ‘mate’ again?”

He chuckled under his breath. But he didn’t answer.

She stepped closer, eyes scanning his face. “You’ve been weird all weekend.”

“Have I?”

“Don’t do that. I know you. You taught me that tone.”

There was a pause. Then a long exhale.

“I saw you with your team,” Lewis admitted finally. “You looked… happy.”

“I am happy.”

“I know,” he nodded. “That’s what makes it worse.”

The silence that followed was tender, bruised. She sat beside him, pulling her knees up like she used to on the debrief couch back in Brackley.

“You know I still talk about you like you’re my teammate, right?” she murmured.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Even now?”

“Especially now. They’ll say something about strategy and I’ll go, ‘Lewis used to do this thing…’ or I’ll crash and think, ‘Lewis is gonna kill me.’ You literally live in me, Lew.”

“You’re not mine anymore,” he whispered, not accusing—just stating what it felt like.

Her hand reached for his.

“I’ll always be yours. Not because of contracts or team kits or who I’m racing next to.” She squeezed his fingers.

“But because you were the first person to believe I could do this. You were the voice in my ear when I still doubted my own. You’re the reason I ever thought I belonged.”

He looked down at their intertwined hands. His thumb brushed the edge of her knuckle where her old Mercedes ring still sat on a chain.

“You’ve got new people now.”

“I’ve got new people,” she said gently. “But I only ever had one home. And that was you.”

That’s what broke him.

Not in the messy way. Not with tears. Just a breath—sharp, shaky—and the quiet tilt of his head into her shoulder.

“Don’t leave me behind,” he said into the fabric of her hoodie.

“Never,” she promised. “You’re not behind, Lewis. You’re above. You’re the bar. Everyone else is just chasing it.”

And in the quiet warmth of the post-race night, with engines off and media gone, she sat there and reminded him:

That no matter how far they drifted or what colors they wore…

She would always be his.

user: “you were the voice in my ear when i still doubted my own” WHO GAVE HER THE RIGHT

user: not me crying in the club over lewis whispering “you’re not mine anymore” and yn literally rewriting the definition of soulmate

user: if you’ve ever been the friend who stayed behind while they moved on… you get this scene in your bones

user: and yet she still wears his old merc hoodie. still keeps the ring on her chain. she never left. not really.

user: her calling lewis her home while sitting in ferrari colors should be illegal tbh

user: lewis watching yn laugh with her new team like a sad victorian ghost and then her literally holding his hand and telling him he’s still her home. KILL ME????

[mommyslittlebird]

Fixation

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader (HSG universe)

Summary: After a long day, Wanda has to calm you down using some unconventional methods.

Word Count: ~1.2k

CW: discussions of pregnancy?, womb fixation, Fruedian stuff, but it's all SFW

A/N: I don't know if this is anything, but I've had a shit day. I don't know if a womb fixation is a thing, but I'm making it one. Anyway, if anyone has a vacant womb I can curl up in for the next 3-5 days, give me a call.

Wanda had gotten very good at knowing all of your tells: the way your hands trembled when you were hungry, how your gate changed just a little when you hadn’t gotten enough sleep, your nervous habit of whistling when your mind was racing with worries. Tonight, however, she didn’t even need her mama instincts to tell her you were upset. 

You shuffled into the living room in one of her hoodies. It was massive on you, trailing down your thighs so far the pajamas shorts you wore underneath weren’t visible. You chewed anxiously on one of the too-long-sleeves, fraying the cuffs. Wanda had tried to break the habit several times, especially given your affinity for stealing her clothes, but eventually she’d just surrendered to the fate of wearing jackets with chewed sleeves. 

“Baby,” she cooed sympathically. “What’s wrong? Come here, pumpkin. Tell mama what’s got you all worked up.” She tapped her thighs, ushering you gently onto her lap. 

You curled up against her immediately, tucking your knees to your chest and resting your head on her shoulder. Wanda gasped in surprise when your free hand found its way under the hem of her shirt and rested on her lower stomach. Your palm slid across her bare skin, to her hip, then traced its way back to her belly button. You silently caressed the skin there until she stopped you, stilling your hand with her own. 

She had known about this little habit of yours for a long time now. It was a fixation of sorts that seemed to come in waves: you’d go months without thinking about it, and then something would happen and suddenly you couldn’t keep away. Whether she was cooking, sitting on the couch, or even sleeping, your hands and eyes would always find their way right back to this specific spot right below her belly button, where stretch marks spanned from hip to hip after carrying her twins. 

After carrying her twins. Not you. 

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, already preparing to defend whatever nonsense was about to spew from your mouth about how you’d never really be hers. 

You finally pulled the sleeve you’d been chewing on from your mouth. She knew what you were going to say before you even opened her mouth, but the quiet, broken words never failed to pierce her heart regardless. 

“It’s not fair.”

She swallowed, tucking your head under her chin and rubbing your back through the thick material of the hoodie. “I know, baby,” she admitted. “I know it’s not.”

“I never got to be inside you,” you said. “I never got to be part of you. I was never connected to you. I was never your-“

“Don’t.” Wanda interrupted, firmly, but not unkindly. She would let you have your mourning. She would comfort you through each broken explanation of the indescribable longing in your heart. But she would not tolerate any implication that you were any less hers. 

You stiffened and pulled your hand from her stomach, instead grabbing her shirt in a tight fist. “I’m sorry,” you sniffed. 

She kissed the crown of your head. “It’s okay, darling,” she reassured. “I just need you to know that you have more of my heart than anyone else in the world. And nothing can change that. I love you so much.”

You nodded against her chest. “I know. I just…” you sniffled again, “I wish I were made of love, is all.”

You laid down on her lap, shifting your position so you were pressed up against her stomach in a tight ball. You grabbed a throw blanket from the couch and tossed it over your head. 

“Maybe we can pretend for a little bit,” you proposed quietly, muffled slightly by the blanket. “That I’m in your belly and… and you haven’t met me yet but you’re excited to. And you already love me so much.” You poked your head out of the blanket to look up at her. “Or we don’t have to… if it’s stupid.”

Wanda froze for a moment, but then a soft, sad smile spread across her face. It was a silly request, really. Nothing she said could change what actually happened. It would be nothing more than a fairytale. And yet, when your big eyes peered up into hers, she couldn’t bring herself to deny you. She couldn’t turn back the clock, but she could craft a narrative for you to carry with you. She pulled the blanket down over your head again, cocooning you against her. 

“We decided to wait, your father and I, to find out whether you’re a boy or girl,” she started, rubbing over the thick blanket in slow, soothing circles. “Your father thinks I’m crazy, because I tell everyone I already know you’re gonna be my little girl. I can just feel it.”

She shifted slightly, laying down on the couch so you could lay on her stomach. “I call you my rolly polly because you keep me up at night with all your rolling. The only thing that calms you down is my singing. It drives your dad crazy.”

“You sing to me?” You asked in a quiet, broken voice. 

“Of course I sing to you, angel,” she reassured. “I sing… lullabies mostly. But what seems to calm you down the most is my operatic cover of ‘The Middle’ by Jimmy Eat World.”

You giggled and the vibrations spread across her whole chest, warming her from the inside out. She pulled you closer. “I’m craving… ice cream and salt. Not together. Most of the time. I already know you’re a sweet tooth and I already can’t deny you a damn thing.”

She sits in silence for a minute, trying to gauge your reaction under the thick blanket. Then there’s a sniffle and another whispered question. “And… and you’re excited, right? This is something you wanted to happen.”

“Oh baby, I can hardly wait.” She doesn’t even need a moment to think about her answer. “I’ve taken up crochet and I’ve already made you a blanket and some little hats. Out of the softest yarn I could find. Only the best for my baby girl.”

“And then- when I came out- you weren’t disappointed were you?” You asked, voice trembling again. 

“Disappointed? Oh heavens no,” she nearly gasped. “The moment they laid you on my chest I knew you were better than I could’ve ever imagined. You were perfect. You are perfect. My angel. My miracle. My special girl. I have never been so happy to be anything as I am to be your mama.”

You poked your head out from under the blanket and uncurled yourself from your ball, resting your head on her chest. You could feel her heartbeat and the vibrations of her humming in her ribcage, soothing and melting away the last of your nerves. She could feel your muscles relax as she ran her nails up and down. She craned her neck upwards to kiss your head. “Rest, my love,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You whined and buried your face in her chest. You could hardly keep your eyes open. She took your hand in hers and brought it to her collarbone, splaying your fingers out against the skin there.

"Goodnight, angel. I'll be here when you wake."

[alwritey-aphrodite]

So i was thinking, and a really specific request comes to my mind.

What about a friends to lovers, but the reader doesn't tell Clark cause she thinks he'll never like her back because she's a little chubby. He discovered that because she was talking about it with Lois and accidentally, he heard.

Lots of fluff pleaseee

baby, i'm in too deep

pairing: Clark Kent x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: im actually obsessed with these two tbh they’re my babies and if anyone is interested id love to write more for them hehehe

There are few people who know you as well as Lois Lane does. Beneath the scathing articles and cutting quips, the punk music and the platform shoes, she’s a big softie. Sure, it was a little difficult to break through that hard exterior, but spending so many hours crammed back to back at your desks with only a few feet of space between you has led to an easy friendship. You’ve got the kind of relationship where you know her takeout orders from her favorite restaurants and she keeps your favorite kind of candy hidden in her desk for when you have a hard day.

She’s also the one and only person you tell all of your secrets to, and you’ve come to realize that was a huge mistake.

It’s not that she can’t be trusted, or that you’re worried she’ll use them against you, but if she raises her eyebrows at you one more time when you say good morning to Clark, you’re going to move to Gotham. 

Really, you should have known from the moment you let it slip that telling her about your crush on Clark was a mistake. You’d been huddled on her couch, feeling perfectly giggly and warm and ready to gossip, except it had turned into you spilling your guts. It’s not like you’re in love with him, despite what Lois thinks, you just think he’s cute. And tall. And funny. And considerate. And perfect.

Maybe it’s a little more than a minor crush, but regardless, Lois’s reaction has been over the top and frankly a little ridiculous. Plus, you refuse to believe that half of the Daily Planet staff didn’t have a crush on Clark, although it seems like you might be the only one based on the treatment he gets from the rest of your coworkers. 

In the handful of weeks since you’ve let your little confession slip, Lois has made it her mission to get you to tell Clark how you feel about him, for reasons she refuses to tell you. It was funny at first, little eyebrow raises or elbow nudges when he walked next to you to reach his desk, but now it seems like all she’s capable of talking about. 

“Last I checked, you covered international affairs, so this is actually none of your business at all,” your attempt at a scathing response just has her laughing, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though you’re still frustrated with her. 

As sweet as she is, and you know her heart is in the right place, she just doesn’t get why you can’t walk up to him and ask him to coffee or dinner or whatever else people do on first dates. It’s not just the fear of rejection, of getting shot down and having your heart stomped on, although that fear is present too. It’s something more, something deeper, something Lois would never understand.

All your life, you’ve never once been asked out on a date. You’ve never been anyone’s secret crush, the recipient of sweet notes stuffed inside a locker. Instead, you’re the designated wingwoman, the girl that unlucky friends get stuck talking to while your friends get chatted up by more attractive suitors and you deal with the sulking, the pouting, the thinly veiled jokes about your appearance. And it’s fine, really. Maybe a little lonely, but it’s no big deal.

The thought of Clark looking at you like that, though, makes your stomach turn. It doesn’t matter how old they are, how accomplished, how successful, how seemingly sweet, every guy you’ve ever talked to has turned into the boys you swooned over in high school, who never paid you a second glance or else made cutting remarks when they thought you couldn’t hear, or maybe they just didn’t care. 

“C’mon, just talk to him,” Lois thankfully keeps her voice low, pouring endless amounts of sugar into her coffee as you sip from your own mug, “It’s Clark.”

“Exactly,” you reply, huffing a little at the expression she gives you in response, something between irritation and humor. “Clark’s a nice guy. He’s great, even. But all guys seem great before you’re stuck at a restaurant with them and they promise to call back but never do.”

“That won’t be a problem,” she reassures you, and when she sees that her words just bounce right off, she tacks on, “and if it is, we’ll hunt him down and make him pay.”

You snort into your mug, shaking your head as you try and reign in your laughter when you hear footsteps approach.

“Who are you hunting down?” Clark asks, although he knows better than to get between Lois and her investigative tactics. When she knows there’s a story, she’ll stop at nothing to get it. 

“Our enemies,” you respond, giving him a smile before making your way back to your desk. If you were more level-headed, less prone to feeling like you’re going to explode from even a millisecond of attention, you’d stay and banter, sending playful remarks back and forth. 

Instead, you scurry away before you can embarrass yourself, not realizing until you’re back at your desk that you’ve left Clark and Lois alone together. You wonder if you should start looking for those Gotham apartments now or wait until the end of the work day. 

By some sort of miracle, though, they both go their separate ways, which doesn’t mean much because all of your desks are crammed together and well within earshot of each other. At least this way you can keep your eye on Lois and whatever scheme she’s busy cooking up. 

Lois must be playing the long game, though, because within a few weeks your crush on Clark has become old news between you and your friend, even if you only seem to fall more and more in love with him. He brought you a lemonade one day when it was unseasonably warm and you almost confessed on the spot because you find him so incredibly lovely, but then every failed declaration of love you’ve ever made came flooding back so instead you just thanked him and reveled in the way he smiled at you. 

Maybe Lois is right, and Clark isn’t like every other person you’ve ever had a crush on, but you’re not willing to find out, not yet. For now, you’re content to sit and pine and yearn in silence, because being able to smile at him across your desks is better than a heartbreaking rejection, even though it feels like it physically pains your heart sometimes. 

“Can you please just talk to him? You’re killing me over here,” Lois hisses to you as your eyes trail Clark’s path through the office towards the elevators.

“I talk to him all the time,” you tease, even though you’d thought the two of you had moved past this topic of conversation and you can feel that old frustration building up again.

“Seriously,” she says, even as she swats you on the arm with the folder she’s holding, “just tell him. I can promise you, nothing bad is going to happen. And if it does, you can be in charge of movie nights for eternity.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’d rather eat my own shoes than have to walk in here every day and bring the mood down because I was rejected by my office crush that I have to work next to,” you pause, continuing before Lois can jump in, “I know, he’s not like them. But I can’t help it, there’s no way in hell I’m saying anything to him.”

“Clark is not some random stupid guy who’s gonna be mean to you, he doesn’t even kill spiders. And I have it on good authority that he’s gonna say yes.”

By good authority, she means Jimmy Olsen, who swears up and down that he and Clark have had the same conversations that the two of you have had more times than she can count. The both of them are on the verge of locking you and Clark in a closet somewhere if it means you’ll finally tell each other, even if it is ridiculously childish. 

“You’re crazy, and I’m not going to humiliate myself, no matter what you promise me,” you put an end to the conversation, hoping that this time it finally stays buried.

What you’re unaware of, though, is that your crush on Clark is far from buried. He hadn’t meant to overhear the two of you, but he’d realized that he forgot a folder on his desk and had to turn back to grab it. You and Lois were so wrapped up in whisper-yelling at each other that you didn’t notice when he scrambled back over, and he had planned on leaving again as soon as the folder was in his hand, but then he heard his name and he couldn’t resist listening for a second more.

Even though he’d missed the beginning of your conversation, he’s certain he knows exactly what the two of you were talking about. And he’s certain that he’ll never tell Jimmy any more secrets that he doesn’t want spread around the office. Thank God it hasn’t made its way to Cat yet. 

Towards the end of the day, when you’re more focused on pretending to look busy than actually doing your work, the conversation you had with Lois still lingers in your mind. Maybe she’s right, and telling Clark how you feel would be the smart thing to do, if only to put you out of your misery.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Clark’s voice, though soft, causes you to startle, a gasp sounding in your throat as you whip your head around. He looks sheepish, cringing at himself, and he thinks that this must be a sign to keep his mouth shut. 

“Yeah, sure, of course,” you smile up at him, something more than just polite, and Clark finds himself forging ahead anyway, despite the alarm bells ringing in his head that this is a terrible idea. 

“Do you, I mean, would you maybe,” Clark shakes his head at himself, pressing his eyes closed because he finds there’s no way he can speak eloquently when you’re looking at him like that, all soft and trusting. “Maybe, sometime, do you want to get dinner? Together?”

“Together?” You ask, as if you’ve never heard the word before. Clark is so sure that he’s making a fool of himself, but he nods anyway, trying his best to smile at you when all he feels like doing is grimacing at himself. 

“Yeah, together,” he confirms, “like as a date. A date, together.”

“You’re asking me on a date?” You’re looking at him as if he’s grown three heads, and there’s a part of him that wants to take it back, wants to pretend like he never said anything and just go home, but he fights the urge and forges ahead.

“I am,” he’s still managing to keep a smile on his face, praying he doesn’t look deranged, “unless you don’t want to, then it can just be friendly. Casual. A friendly, casual dinner.”

“No!” You practically shout at him, cringing when it draws the attention of the remaining stragglers of coworkers still milling around, “I mean, no. A date would be nice. Perfect.”

“Yeah?” Clark’s still not sure that you’re not just saying yes to be nice to him, because that seems like something you’d do just to spare his feelings. You’re nice like that. Really, he thinks you’re perfect, but that seems like coming on a bit strong. 

“Yeah,” you’re grinning now, unable to help yourself, “I’d been meaning to ask you out for a while, actually, I just didn’t have the courage. Even just the idea of you saying no made me want to run away.”

“I’d never say no to you,” he says it so earnestly, so eagerly, that you actually believe him.

“It’s a date then,” you confirm, and the two of you just beam at each other, so unbelievably, stupidly happy.

Maybe Lois is right, and Clark is completely unlike every other crush you’ve ever heard. So far, at least, things are going a million times better than you could have ever dreamed. You’re going on a date with Clark Kent. Clark Kent asked you out on a date. 

Somewhere by the coffee machine, hidden by the beams that divide the office, Lois and Jimmy share a silent high-five as they watch your interaction with Clark, grinning into their mugs. 

With one last smile, Clark turns to go back to his desk, knocking into Lois’ chair as he goes and sending it spinning. He glances back at you and finds you already looking at him, causing him to turn an incredibly enticing shade of pink. With all of your worries and anxieties starting to dispel, you can finally focus on more important things. Like how to get him to blush like that again.

[kattheogcat]

Don't look for me! Please do...

Pairing — Lando Norris x afab!Reader

Summary — Sometimes feelings build up and sometimes they reveal themselfes with an explosion...

Genre — angst, established relationship

Wordcount — 2.8k

Warnings — fighting, yelling, colorful language right from the start, misscommunication

Rating — pg-13

A/N — I will repeat myself until my thumbs go numb but, don't kill me about inaccuracys of the world of f1. I'm new here TT

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©kattheogcat on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

“You know what? Fuck you! If you can´t even take the time for 5 seconds to greet me, then don´t count on me caring to see you tomorrow either!” you hissed at the wide-eyed man leaning against the headboard of your shared hotel room bed.

“Don´t search for me at the paddock.”

And with that you were out.

Grabbing your purse, phone and keycard you turned and walked out of the room, door slamming shut behind you.

Angry tears were brimming in your eyes, making it hard to see where you were going and causing the pulsing behind your forehead to grow stronger by the second. The headache you were sporting wasn´t new. It wasn´t cause by your anger or by the yelling, not it had been persistent ever since you walked out of work just the day before. The situation not making it better in the slightest.

Said headache also being one of the reasons why you had walked out on him in the first place.

You were understanding for everything concerning Lando´s career. The constant travels, the media circus and it´s focus on you and everything you did, said or posted, watching fangirls swoon over him online and trackside or the regular allnighter you pulled just to see his face on a 30 minute videocall before you fell asleep or had to go to work.

All of it you understood. Did it make you jealous from time to time to watch him smile for the camera while you had to sit at home? You´d be lying if you said not but you loved him, and you loved watching him doing what he loved. But sometimes you wished you were more present in his life.

Sometimes, in moments like now where you felt awful to begin with you wished he had the time and foresight to see what you needed. Well he did have the time, was known to take it for Cisca and Adam every time his parents came to watch him race however you apparently were a different case.

It ate at you, at your self-esteem and value to the one you´d lay your life down for and frankly in this moment, you weren´t sure if you should have said yes to the ring around your finger just a few weeks back. Was this how you wanted the rest of your life to go?

Overlooked and underappreciated? Because that's what it felt like to you; being ignored and taken for granted at times.

With a soft sniffle you tried and failed to keep in, you stepped into the elevator at the end of the hallway, pressed the button with the big 4, the irony did not escape you, and leaned against the wall as the door closed with a ding and hummed to life while going down.

The door opened and you rushed out just to frantically knock at the one room you knew would let you in in a heart beat.

Cisca was already in her sleepwear when she opened a little stunned but immediatly opening her arms for you to fall into.

The floodgates opened and every tear you head managed to hold at bay started rolling down your face uncontrollably.

“Oh, darling whats wrong?” she whispered into your ear and you choked on your own words trying to get something coherent out of your mouth.

Lando´s mother had been your rock since day one when you still weren´t sure how to act with the publics eye on you and ever since then she was the one you turned to when you needed some motherly attention.

She pulled you inside, sat you down on the couch and simply held you until you had calmed down enough for your breathing to slow and your shoulders to relax under the soft touch of her hand on the back of your head.

“That´s good, just breath my sweet girl. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

Though her words were reassuring, she wasn´t sure what to make of the situation herself.

Earlier when she had seen you at the paddock you seemed to be doing alright. A little more subdued then she was used to from you but you were standing and smiling at crew and fans with a softness Cisca had never seen in any of the girlfriends her son had brought home and introduced to the wild world that was F1. It was like you were made to fit right in.

Honest, kind and bright without taking shit from anyone. Thats how she knew you and thats how she wanted you to stay. Whatever was making you this shaky and slightly sick version of yourself, she wanted it to be gone.

Your breath fanned gently over the skin of her neck where you were hiding, enough to feel you fall asleep on her. Cisca laid your head down in her lap, the bathroom door opening as her husband stepped out. Equally as ready for bed as Cisca was and equally as confused when he saw your passed out form laying on their hotelroom couch.

The tear track still very visible and slowly starting to dry.

“Can you give me my phone?” Cisca hummed and pointed to her phone on the nightstand.

Adam nodded and grabbed the device.

“You think Lando knows something?”

“You mean why she came to us instead of him? I have a hunch that he does.”

And she was proven right.

Lando had texted him just 10 minutes ago when she was still busy trying to shush your weeping. The pained frown never leaving your face as you breathed on her lap.

Please tell me she´s with you mum? - Lando

She´s here, don´t worry – Cisca

But can you please enlighten me why your fiance came crying to our room? - Cisca

I was being stupid – Lando

That i can see baby – Cisca

Thanks mum – Lando

I´m sorry baby but when your usually always smiling love practically fled to cry, one tends to wonder – Cisca

I may have let stress get to me. She hasn´t been feeling well and i didn´t notice... - Lando

Oh lando – Cisca

I know! - Lando

She said she won´t be coming tomorrow and i can´t even fault her for it. This time i was the muppet – Lando

I’m sure its nothing you can´t fix – Cisca

Can I come get her? – Lando

Let her sleep. I’ll see what I can do for you tomorrow morning – Cisca

Thanks mum – Lando

Go sleep. – Cisca

--------

Left behind and now pacing tracks into the floorboards, Lando stared down at his phone. He was relieved that you weere safe and not aimlessly wandering around the hotel grounds at night but the feeling was only minor compared to the guilt he was carrying with him at the moment.

The things you had thrown at him in your anger weren’t baseless, he knew that and he also knew that you could have been much firmer in your way of arguing if you had wanted too. That fact that you hadn’t was just another testimony to the fact that you weren’t feeling well enough to maintain your point and that you were crumbling on the inside.

Ever since he had known you when you were barely 15 years old while he was a teenager himself, he had always known you to be a firm believer in fighting for your beliefs in a rational, calm, yet fierce way. Sure you could scream and yell to the point someone who didn’t know you as well as he did would back up in fear but that was rare. And the fact that you so easily broke told him more about himself then about you.

“I smile, I understand and I see you living for racing and I love that. Watching you race even if you finish P10 or lower, I still love it because that’s part of what makes you you! But today I needed you to see me too! I travel whenever I can, barely catch a breath between work, flights, races and going back to work and miss sleep to see your face at ungodly hours but I want to do it! For you, because I fucking love you, you absolute idiot. And then you can’t even give me 30 seconds to hug me? That’s all I needed. 30 seconds when I was right there. Right next to your parents…” Your words were still ringing in his ears.

You were right, of course you were. He took the time for his mum and dad so why not for you. When it was so evident that you weren’t at 100%. That for once you needed him to look at you and see you. Really see you. Because now that he thought of it, the signs were all there.

All the subtle clues he should be able to puck up just by glancing at you were there, were almost screaming at him. And he chose to not see it, not in that moment.

Lando had told his mum that he understood why you didn’t want to come see him tomorrow. That wasn’t a lie. But it still hurt.

Hurt to think he was the reason you didn’t want to see him and yet he had no right to demand you being there after failing to uphold his part of what he had promised you when he asked you to be his wife even if you had not even set a date yet.

How could he have fucked up so bad…

---------

The next morning you woke up feeling better and worse.

Your head wasn’t pounding anymore but your eyes were puffy, red and burning from crying yourself to sleep the night before.

Mortification settled in your bones when you remembered crashing your future parents in laws night just like that and you sat up so quickly you felt a bit dizzy.

The room was empty. Cisca and Adam having left for breakfast as the sticky note left on your phone told you along with a set of fresh clothes Lando must have brought down for you before he left.

Oh fuck.

Had you really told him not to search for you? That you weren’t going to come? And he just took it? Believed you like a kicked golden retriever?

What an idiot. You and him.

You for ever believing you could stay away from any track Lando was driving on and him for believing you in your frustration and anger.

A perfect match you were.

I’m sorry, love. You were right, I haven’t seen it. Haven’t tried to see it which was my fault. You sacrifice so much for me and I took it for granted. I understand why you don’t want to be here today. To be honest, I’d rather not be here either. Not without you... – Lando

Flopping face first back into the couch pillow you barely could hold back the scream of frustration building in your throat.

“I am stupid.” You muttered into the silence of the room before moving of the couch.

You hurriedly got dressed, went back to your room to get ready, maybe take some Ibuprofen and get your ass to the Circuit.

The fan posts about Lando arriving alone on Instagram and tiktok weren’t lost on you. They were theorizing like crazy, throwing the words breakup and fighting around like confetti and made your stomach roll.

Yes you were fighting but what couple doesn’t at times?

The thought of breakup now seemed utterly ridiculous and when the car stopped, you almost flew out of the door.

Armed with your paddock pass you waved politely back at some fans who smiled at you, took a selfie here and there with some particularly dedicated ones and marched straight into McLarens hospitality unit.

Oscar, surprised at seeing your face, stopped in his track. Lando must have told him.

“Y/n? You came!”

“Of course! Where-“

“Drivers lounge.”

The Australian nodded back to where he just came from and you give him a thankful sidehug.

“Get him back on track woman.”

“Will do!”

With your heart pounding in your ears you came to a halt in front of the drivers lounge. While you had made valid points yesterday, you knew that your words were fueled by hurt and pain and that in itself had fired you up more then when you would have felt alright.

You were sensitive, reacted harshly instead of talking like a civilized person and had thrown things at him he had no idea were even an issue. That was on you.

That was something that you could have spoken about before it came to a fight that could have been prevented if handled accordingly.

Gently you knocked, signaling that someone was about to come in. Lando didn’t answer. He was sprawled out on the papaya colored couch, back leaning against the rest, man spreading like there was no tomorrow and his head laid back with his eyes shut. Even like that you could see the frown etched into his features. A muffled grumbled left him at the sound of the door opening and closing again with being spoken too.

Lando knew it couldn’t have been Oscar and besides drivers and their family nobody was supposed to enter the drivers lounge uninvited. The fact that someone had entered left him suspicious enough to look up enough to be able to squint against the blinding overhead lights of the lounge.

At first nothing happened, his brain not able to catch up with the fact that it was you leaning against the door, hands clasped together in front of your midsection and fingers nervously fiddling with the fabric of your shirt. Y

“Hi…” you whispered, hesitating to speak louder in fear of disturbing the peace that was settled over the room save for the humming AC.

When it fibally clicked that he was in fact not imaginibg thibgs or seeibg ghosts and that you were actually standing in the same room with him after telling him you wouldn’t be there today, he almost fell over as he jumped to his feet.

He was still dressed in his orange polo shirt and simple black jeans, curl hair sitting messily and slightly longer just the way you liked it on his head.

“Wait huh? Love what– but you said and–“ The McLaren driver took a deep breath at seeing the little smile tugging on your lips as he fumbled with what to say before eventually rushing forward.

You found yourself in his tight embrace just seconds later, his warm breath fanning over your ear and making your dangling earring brush against the skin there.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He pulled away just enough so his hands could frame your face, gently forcing you to look at him directly. Not that you were trying to escape it.

“I am so sorry, my love. For not seeing that you weren’t okay, or not taking the time to-“

“No, I’m sorry. You couldn’t have known because I didn’t say.”

“But I should have seen it. Mum saw it for fucks sake!”

“Your mom stood next to me for nearly 2 hours, Lando. You haven’t seen me all week. How would you have known?” Tilted head and another apology on your lips your fingers brushed through the curls on the base of his neck. Hands thrown around his shoulders.

“Still. I would have understood if you–“

“Stayed at the hotel? Do you really think I’d do that? That I could bring it overmyself?”

“You have good reason not to.”

“And an ever better one to do so.”

Lando leaned his forehead against your own and your eyes fluttered shut at the calming proximity. His scent tickling your nose pleasantly.

He couldn’t help but lean in and press a series of kisses to your face. Your cheek, nose, forehead and last your lips. A touch so soft and hesitant like he was scared he’d scare you away again that It left your heart aching.

“I think–“ you began and paused to think. “– that we both have handled things wrong. That we definitely need to work on time and stress management—”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“—and that I should be clearer with what I’m feeling when you aren’t there to hold me. Because this could have been avoided if I had just told you about my headache and being exhausted.”

Your eyes flew over his face, taking in every detail like you could possibly ever forget it.

Lando nodded.

“I’m still sorry, my love.”

“Yeah, me too baby.”

You let your arms fall down to his side just to wrap them around his back.

“And now please just hold me. My week was horrible and I missed you…”

Never in his life had he complied that quick to a request.

[pballer5]

timeout: chapter 10

masterlist

summary: Paige and Azzi slowly let basketball back into their lives, adding a new dynamic to their relationship.

a/n: idk if I like this chapter, it was kinda had to write tbh :P idk lmk!

wc: 4.8k

Chapter 10: Scars

10 Years Ago

Paige

The apartment felt too small, like the walls were folding in on themselves, inch by inch, every time the clock ticked. Each breath Paige took echoed in her ribs like a reminder: you’re still here, but not quite. She sat hunched on the edge of the sagging couch, shoulders drawn tight. 

Outside, the Minnesota sky was a low-hanging sheet of steel, colorless and unmoving. The air that seeped through the drafty windows carried a kind of winter that didn't just freeze your skin, but reached deeper, down to the marrow, to the softest parts of you that once held warmth. No amount of flannel or blankets or heat could shake the chill Paige felt inside.

In the kitchen, her dad’s voice murmured low and tense, the way it always did when he thought she couldn’t hear. Her stepmom responded with a sharp whisper, and though Paige couldn’t make out the words, she could feel the weight of them. Conversations about her, not with her. About what came next. About how none of them really knew.

She wasn’t angry. Not exactly. She just felt… hollow. 

Paige pressed the heels of her palms into her temples, trying to quiet the noise, external and internal. The injury had splintered more than her knee. It had fractured something deeper, something invisible. Her sense of direction. Her sense of self. The silence she carried now wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind that echoed.

She could still hear the doctor’s voice like it had been etched into her skull. "You’ll need surgery. Full recovery’s uncertain. This season… maybe longer." The words had landed not like a sentence but like an erasure, sweeping away the entire shape of her future with the finality of a slammed door.

Her dad had sat next to her then, jaw clenched, eyes too dry. He’d told her to “stay positive,” over and over, like it was a switch she could flip. But she’d seen the fear in his eyes, tucked behind the steady tone, the kind he used when he was barely holding it together.

She’d nodded. Said she would.

But that was a lie.

The walls of her bedroom were still covered in UConn posters, her younger self’s shrine to the dream. She hadn’t taken them down. She couldn’t. It would feel like pulling the plug. Like admitting it was really over.

That night, she sat on the edge of her bed, light from her phone screen casting shadows over the letter she’d unfolded so many times the paper had gone soft. The official offer. The scholarship. The dream, pressed between university letterhead and embossed signatures.

She traced the edges with her thumb. That version of Paige, smiling, certain, already halfway down the tunnel toward a packed arena, felt like someone else. A ghost in her own skin.

Who was she now, without basketball?

Her mind kept replaying that moment, the drive to the basket, the step, the twist, the way her knee dislocated before it even hit the ground. That grotesque sound. The sick slide of bone from its socket. The pain, but worse than that, the knowing.

She'd known. Immediately. That everything had changed.

Rehab had been a slow crucifixion. Endless reps. Ice baths. Tight smiles from trainers. The overwhelming shame of having to start over from a body that had once done everything without hesitation. There were days she couldn’t even look at her leg. Couldn’t stomach the jagged scars that now marked the place where her dream had broken.

Coaches called less. People stopped asking. The noise dulled. The silence thickened.

And now, college? Without basketball?

She didn’t want to walk through campus halls as a shadow of who she used to be. Didn’t want to smile politely when people asked “Aren’t you…?” as if she wasn’t already carrying that question herself every day. Aren’t you supposed to be someone?

Paige let her head fall into her hands.

Tears slid down her cheeks, slow, uninvited. They weren’t dramatic. They just were, like everything else now: quiet, inevitable.

She didn’t know how to be a person without a schedule, a season, a goal.

Didn’t know how to believe in a future when the one she’d spent her whole life chasing had disappeared in one ugly, irreversible moment.

The apartment smelled like burnt toast and old coffee grounds, the radiator clanking like it was trying to keep up with a winter it had no business fighting. Paige sat motionless on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked up under her, one knee braced in compression fabric she hadn’t taken off since the last physical therapy appointment. The joint ached constantly now, a dull, throbbing pulse that made everything else feel louder.

Her phone buzzed once. Then again. Teammates. A coach. Probably someone asking for an update she couldn’t give.

She let it fall facedown on the comforter.

She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Didn’t want to say the words out loud: dislocation. Cartilage damage. Chronic instability. The phrases the surgeon had rattled off last week still rang in her ears, sterile and final.

"You’re not just rehabbing an ACL anymore, Paige. You dislocated your kneecap. It’s time to start thinking long-term. Quality of life. Stability. It might not be safe for you to keep pushing the way you’ve been pushing."

She’d nodded, numb. Her dad had squeezed her hand too tightly while she stared at the floor. 

The dream had already been fraying at the edges. The re-injuries, the complications from the ACL tear, the pain that never really went away. But this? This was the final rip. The tear straight through the fabric.

She reached for the letter again, the one from UConn with her name printed at the top like it belonged there. It was soft around the edges now, the crease worn from being folded and unfolded too many times. A part of her still wanted to believe she could go. Just show up, sit in the stands, pretend it hadn’t all come undone. Pretend that walking across campus wouldn’t feel like dragging a shadow behind her, a ghost of the player she used to be.

She pressed the letter to her chest, eyes squeezed shut.

It should’ve been everything.

Instead, it felt like a reminder.

She didn’t remember falling asleep. Just the slow blur behind her eyes and the leaden weight of her own breath, heavy in the quiet.

When she woke, it was still dark. Not the gentle kind that softened the edges of morning, the kind that pressed in, like the world had paused without telling her.

The apartment was still.

Her dad’s voice, the footsteps, all gone, tucked into whatever hour of the night it was. The radiator had gone silent, and her knee, braced stiff and aching, pulsed with that familiar, dragging throb.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t want to remind herself she was still in this room. Still in this body.

Still eighteen.

That was the part that kept catching her off guard. She was only eighteen.

Everyone said it like it meant time was on her side. That everything she’d lost could still be reclaimed, rewritten. But it didn’t feel that way.

It felt like the future she’d been working toward, the one everyone knew was waiting for her, had slipped right through her hands while she was busy icing her knee.

And now?

Now she didn’t know what was left.

She stared at the ceiling until the silence turned oppressive, until the dark started to close in like it had weight. Her chest rose and fell in shallow rhythms, her body still, her mind anything but.

And then the thought came. Again. A whisper she kept swatting away, only for it to return more stubborn each time:

You could leave.

Not to another school. Not to some new doctor with a new plan. Just… out. Away.

Away from the fluorescent rehab rooms, the clipboards, the quiet reassurances that sounded more like condolences. Away from the conversations where everyone kept smiling too much, like if they just grinned hard enough, they could pretend this wasn’t happening.

Away from the looks, the ones that said we used to believe in you.

The worst part was that she couldn’t even be angry anymore. Not really. What was there to fight? Her body had drawn the line. She could push through pain. She had, for months. But this wasn’t pain anymore. This was reality, finally settling in.

She was eighteen. Eighteen, and already trying to mourn a future she’d trained her whole life for. Eighteen, and already washed up, even if no one said the words.

They didn’t have to.

She felt it in how no one asked about game film anymore. No more mentions of minutes or rotations. Coaches stopped calling. Her teammates still texted sometimes, but even those came with that soft tone: thinking of you, hope today was a little better.

Better than what?

She shifted under the covers, the ache in her knee pulsing low and mean. The brace itched against her skin. Her muscles twitched with memory, fast breaks, backdoors, bounce passes, things she used to do without thinking. Now they lived in her like ghosts. Movement she could remember but no longer reach.

She blinked hard, jaw tight. The ceiling above her didn’t blink back.

She wasn’t brave enough to say it yet, not out loud, not to anyone who loved her, not even to herself most days, but the comeback dream was gone. The one where she defied the odds, made everyone believe again.

And if she stayed here, she’d keep chasing it. Keep pretending.

She didn’t want to pretend anymore.

<3

Present

Azzi

The thaw came slowly.

Not just the snow outside, though the drifts had started pulling back from the trees, revealing patches of stubborn pine needles and old gravel. But between them, too, something had shifted. Less sharp edges. Less flinching. A slow return to the ordinary.

They weren’t what they were before the fight. Not exactly. But they were something.

Mornings came early. Azzi would wake to the sound of Paige splitting wood out back or shoveling the path clear. She started helping again, not just out of guilt, but because it steadied her. Chopping kindling. Washing dishes. Driving into town for supplies with Paige in the passenger seat, humming along to the radio like nothing had broken. Like maybe some things had simply bent.

There was a gentleness to the way they moved around each other now. A deliberate kind of care. Azzi noticed it in the way Paige didn’t press when Azzi got quiet, just slid her a bowl of soup or nudged her foot beneath the table. And Paige felt it in the way Azzi sometimes leaned just a little closer than she needed to, like reaching for warmth she wasn’t sure she could ask for outright.

They filled their days again.

Small things. Resealing the back windows. Cleaning out the crawlspace. Picking through Ruth’s old cassette tapes, laughing at the labels: “ROADTRIP,” “XMAS,” “DONT PLAY SAD.”

And slowly, basketball crept back in.

Not as a question. Not as a pressure. Just… there.

One evening, Paige sat on the edge of the couch, twisting a thread on her sleeve. Azzi was nearby, flipping through a worn notebook with no particular focus.

Paige set her mug down with a sharp tap, eyes narrowing just enough to make Azzi shift on the couch.

“Can I be honest about something?” Paige said, cutting straight to it. “Basketball related.” 

Azzi looked at her, curious but cautious.

Paige smirked. “You have this thing, when you drive to the basket, you always hesitate just a hair too long before the final move. Like you’re waiting for the perfect moment that never really comes. It’s so subtle, nobody else probably even notices it. But I do.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“I’ve watched you enough to know it’s a little ‘tell’ your brain’s telling you to be perfect, but sometimes, you just gotta go.”

Azzi nudged her with an elbow. “You’re such a nerd.”

Paige laughed. “Guilty. But it’s true. That hesitation? It’s like you’re waiting for permission from yourself to be reckless.”

Azzi shook her head, smiling now, the tension easing between them. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes.”

Paige grinned, eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of mischief and something softer underneath. “Well, it keeps me watching. But also drives me crazy. Like, just commit already, stop overthinking and blow past whoever’s guarding you.”

Azzi laughed, a sound that was half amusement, half exasperation. “Easy for you to say when you’re not the one getting tackled every time you try.”

“True,” Paige admitted, “but sometimes you make it look like you’re trying not to break anything, your own ankles included.”

Azzi nudged her again. “Maybe I just like the suspense.”

Paige shook her head, but there was no bite behind it anymore. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, well, you love impossible.”

“I do.”

They shared a look, playful and warm, tethered in the quiet space between teasing and truth.

The next morning, Paige found Azzi out back, shooting at the crooked hoop nailed above the old barn door.

The ball thudded against the wood, too flat from the cold, and Paige winced at the sound. Still, Azzi kept shooting her hoodie sleeves shoved up past her elbows, her breath misting in the air. She missed more than usual, but didn’t seem frustrated by it. If anything, she looked… present. A little looser in her body. Less like she was punishing herself and more like she was remembering what her limbs were for.

Paige watched from the porch for a while before tugging on her boots and joining her.

“You want a rebounder or are you just out here freezing on principle?”

Azzi caught the next miss off the rim. “Didn’t realize I needed an audience.”

“You don’t,” Paige said, snagging the ball on the bounce. “But you’ve got one anyway.”

She tossed it back without ceremony, and Azzi caught it one-handed, brow raised. Paige just shrugged.

They didn’t talk much after that. Just passed back and forth, a lazy rhythm settling between them. Azzi shot. Paige rebounded. Occasionally, they switched. There was no drill. No structure. Just motion. Just being.

It became a kind of ritual. Not daily, but often enough that Paige started keeping the good ball in the mudroom, away from snow. She found herself watching Azzi’s form again, how her elbow tucked just a little tighter on good days, how her follow-through softened when she was tired. She didn’t always say what she noticed. But sometimes she did.

“You’re leaning left again.”

Azzi would groan, or flick the ball at her, or roll her eyes, but she didn’t stop listening. Not really.

And in return, Paige let Azzi in too. Told her about the ache that never really left her left knee. About the way she still dreamed sometimes about high school gyms and missed layups. About the weird, half-warm, half-resentful love she still carried for the game, how it had raised her and betrayed her in the same breath.

Azzi listened in that quiet, absorbing way of hers, half-turned, eyebrows slightly pulled, the ball cradled under one arm. She didn’t always respond right away. Sometimes she didn’t respond at all. But when she did, it landed.

“You ever think about going back?”

Paige glanced over, brow furrowing slightly. “To what?”

Azzi nudged the ball with the toe of her boot. “Basketball. Coaching. Something.”

Paige gave a short laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You trying to recruit me or something?”

Azzi shrugged, too casual. “Just asking.”

There was a pause, long enough that the wind rustled the pine needles above them like a whisper.

Paige huffed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I think about it sometimes,” she said finally. 

Azzi glanced at her, quiet now.

“I loved it so much,” Paige went on. “God, I loved it. So I don’t know if I could be near it without wanting to prove something again. And I promised myself I didn’t need to prove anything anymore.”

Azzi’s voice was soft. “Even to yourself?”

That got a twitch of a smile from Paige. Sad, crooked. “Especially to myself.”

They fell into silence again, punctuated only by the squeak of boots on packed snow and the soft thud of ball on rim. Paige watched Azzi’s stance realign itself mid-shot, automatic, effortless and felt that familiar ache bloom in her chest. Not the kind from her knee. Something older. Something deeper.

“I used to think if I wasn’t playing,” Paige said suddenly, “I wouldn’t matter anymore. That nobody would care what I had to say unless I had a stat line attached to it.”

Azzi’s next shot went wide. She didn’t chase it. Just turned to face her, brow furrowed.

“I still catch myself thinking that way,” Paige said quietly. “Like, if I’m not in the gym, or in the game, then I’m just… background noise. A story people tell about what could’ve been. Someone they remember in past tense.”

Azzi’s throat tightened. She stepped in, brushing the back of her hand against Paige’s sleeve, light, but steady. “You’re not past tense.”

Paige let out a breath, one that fogged in the cold. She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed on the quiet outline of the hoop, the backboard barely visible in the dark.

“I don’t know if I believe that yet,” she said. “Not really. But I’m trying to. Some days, it feels like I almost do.”

There was something raw in her voice, an honesty. The kind of quiet truth that sat in your ribs long after it was said.

Azzi nodded, her gaze steady. “Me too.”

Paige tilted her head, then bumped her shoulder into Azzi’s with a familiar ease. “Well. At least we suck at believing it together.”

Azzi cracked a smile. “Speak for yourself. I’m amazing at denial.”

“Oh, right. A real pro.” Paige’s smile was soft, crooked at the edges. “Hall of Fame delusions.”

They stood there in the quiet again, the cold long forgotten. The net stirred slightly in the wind. The hoop loomed above them, but it didn’t press down. Not right now.

Azzi pulled the ball close and said, “Okay. First to five. Loser makes hot chocolate.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Loser makes it? Not gets it?”

“Listen, I am not risking your powdered milk monstrosity again. My taste buds still haven’t recovered.”

Paige gasped in mock outrage. “That’s gourmet, thank you very much.”

Azzi was already dribbling back to the line, laughing. “Get ready to lose, Barista Bueckers.”

<3

Paige

Azzi’s fingers were tracing something on the rim of her mug, slow and absent. The kind of movement Paige had started to recognize, not nervous, exactly. Just careful. Like she was working up to something.

Paige looked back down at the book in her lap, though she hadn’t read a single word in minutes. 

“Can I ask you something?” Azzi said.

Her voice was low, almost hesitant.

Paige didn’t answer right away, just looked up, let her hands fall still in her lap. Nodded.

Azzi didn’t meet her eyes. “When did you… stop playing? Basketball, I mean.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“I know you said it was early,” Azzi added, voice gentler, “but I never really asked what happened.”

Paige felt something in her chest catch, not pain, exactly. Not anymore. Just the ghost of it.

She shut the book and set it aside, folding her hands slowly in her lap. Her thumbs rubbed lightly together, the way they always did when her brain tried to make sense of memory.

“It started with my ACL,” she said, after a moment. “Junior year. Stupid plant-and-pivot. I remember the sound more than the pain.”

Azzi was watching now, quiet, open. Not pitying, just present.

“Surgery went fine, they said. Rehab went long. I worked like hell to come back, harder than I ever had. I mean, full throttle. Rehab until midnight, icing on the drive home, every mental trick I had.”

She exhaled, short and quiet. “And I did come back. Kind of.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, though she wasn’t looking at anything out there.

“But it wasn’t clean. My knee never felt right. Little things, tightness, stiffness, pain I couldn’t explain. They said it was scar tissue. That it just needed time. I kept pretending that was true.”

She felt her jaw tighten.

“And then senior year, middle of some no-stakes drill in practice, I stepped wrong and my kneecap popped out. Just like that.”

Her mouth twitched, like she wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite find the sound.

“That was the end. I think I knew it even before the trainers got to me. My body had tapped out, even if I hadn’t.”

Azzi’s expression didn’t shift much, but Paige could see it, the ache behind her eyes. The way her grip tightened slightly on the mug.

“They kept looking at me like maybe I’d go for another round,” Paige said softly. “Another comeback. But I think… I knew. That was the nail in the coffin.”

The silence stretched, soft but heavy. Familiar.

“I couldn’t even watch games,” she murmured. “I’d try, but it felt like watching some ghost version of myself. Like I hadn’t buried her properly, and she was still out there, running the floor.”

She looked down at her hands. “People kept calling it bad luck. A rough chapter. Like I’d turn the page and it’d all be fine again.”

Her voice thinned. “But I could feel it. It wasn’t temporary. The thing I was trying to claw back to, it didn’t exist anymore.”

There was a pause. Azzi’s voice, when it came, was soft enough to break her.

“That must’ve felt like—”

“A death,” Paige said. “Yeah.”

The wind rattled faintly against the windowpanes. Somewhere out in the trees, something shifted, a branch creaking, or a bird launching into sky.

“I think I held on longer than I should’ve,” Paige said. “Not because I believed I’d get back, but because… I didn’t know who I was without it. I was eighteen. Everything I imagined about my life, every version of it, was built around basketball. And when that fell apart, I didn’t have a backup plan. I just had blank space.”

She swallowed. “I never made a big decision to quit. I just stopped showing up to the places that hurt. And eventually, the silence didn’t scream so loud.”

Azzi didn’t say anything, but Paige felt her listening. Not with just her ears, with everything. With her stillness.

Paige let out a breath. “What made it harder was how fast people stopped asking. My parents were supportive, yeah, but after the third or fourth surgery, they had other things to manage. My dad lost his job. My siblings needed attention. And I’d always been the strong one. The one who could handle it.”

Her smile didn’t quite land. “So they assumed I’d keep handling it.”

Azzi’s jaw tensed ever so slightly, and Paige saw something flash across her face, recognition, maybe. That kind of loneliness you only feel when everyone around you thinks you’re fine.

“And then they stopped talking about basketball around me,” Paige said. “Like it would break me to hear the word. Like I wasn’t allowed to miss it out loud.”

“So I left,” Paige said, a little shrug in her voice. “Came here. To the middle of nowhere. Not to reinvent myself or anything that poetic. I just needed to stop waking up every day feeling like a ghost.”

Azzi blinked, and for a second, Paige thought she might cry. But her voice was steady. “That must’ve taken so much courage.”

Paige gave a low, almost laugh. “Or desperation. Maybe both.”

Azzi didn’t look away. “But you did it. You carved out space for yourself.”

For a moment, Paige didn’t speak.

Then, almost to herself: “Some days it still feels like I’m trying.”

The fire had burned low, the logs now more ember than flame, casting a soft, pulsing glow across the living room. Paige’s mug sat cooling on the table. Azzi hadn’t moved much, her hand lightly resting atop Paige’s, thumb absently tracing along the ridge of a knuckle.

Azzi’s voice broke the hush, quiet and careful. “Can I see them?”

Paige looked up, brow furrowed. “See what?”

“Your scars,” Azzi said, not flinching from the question.

Paige blinked, surprised, not by the request, but by how gently it was asked. Her gaze flickered away, toward the window where the glass reflected just enough of her own silhouette to feel like a version of herself was still watching.

“You’ve already seen them,” she said eventually, voice light, like that might make it easier.

Azzi shook her head. “I’ve seen them. But I haven’t really looked.”

That made Paige pause. Her jaw shifted like she might laugh or deflect, but the moment didn’t make space for either. Slowly, deliberately, she pushed up the hem of her sweats just enough to expose the pale lines trailing across the skin of her knee. The pink had long since faded to silver, but the shape of it still carried memory.

Azzi didn’t reach out. She just looked. Long enough for Paige to feel a flush crawl up her chest, unsure if it was from exposure or the tenderness in Azzi’s eyes.

Paige shifted slightly, the fabric bunched at the bend of her knee, catching on old scar tissue that didn’t bend the same way it used to. The fire hissed behind them, one last crackle from a collapsing log. Otherwise, it was silent.

Azzi leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees, chin lowered just enough to let her hair fall, curls bouncing around her face as she looked. Not with pity. Not with fear. Just… presence. The kind Paige didn’t realize she’d been craving until it was there.

“I used to trace them sometimes,” Paige said, her voice almost a murmur. “Right after the first surgery. Like if I could memorize the shape of it, I’d get something back. Control, maybe.”

Azzi’s eyes didn’t leave the line of skin. “Did it work?”

“No,” Paige said simply. Then, after a beat: “But it gave me something to do. When I couldn’t run. Couldn’t play. When my body wasn’t mine.”

She tugged the fabric a little higher. Another scar, higher up. Shorter, messier. The one from the scope, the complication. The second time they told her it’d be fine.

Azzi swallowed. “This one?”

Paige nodded. “Scar tissue built up around the graft. They tried to fix it. It just… didn’t fix.”

Her breath hitched in a way she didn’t expect. Not crying. Not breaking. Just remembering.

“And the kneecap?” Azzi asked softly, like she didn’t want to hurt the air around them.

Paige’s fingers tapped once against her thigh before she peeled the fabric higher, just a few more inches. There, on the outside, a faint ripple of skin where the bone had pushed out of place, shifted sideways like the last betrayal. It didn’t look like much now. But she remembered the sound.

Azzi finally reached out, not to touch, but just to be near. Her hand hovered, respectful, then settled lightly on the edge of Paige’s shin. Her thumb moved in slow, grounding circles, as if to say I see it. All of it.

“You still feel it?” she asked.

“Every time it gets cold,” Paige said, managing the ghost of a smile. “Which, here? Pretty much always.”

That earned a soft laugh from Azzi. Her eyes were still on Paige’s leg, but her voice was somewhere deeper. “It’s beautiful, you know.”

Paige looked over sharply, almost startled.

Azzi shrugged, her thumb still moving. “Not the pain. Not the break. But that you lived through it. That you’re still here.”

Paige didn’t answer right away. She didn’t have to. Her hand turned, just slightly, so their fingers could interlace.

Azzi didn’t look away. Her gaze followed the curve of Paige’s scar like it was a story she wanted to memorize. Then, almost without thinking, she shifted, tugging her own sweats down just enough to reveal the faint, jagged mark along her knee. The one she never showed. Not in interviews. Not even in the locker room.

“This one’s mine,” she said, almost shyly. “ACL. First time.”

She paused, then nodded at a second, parallel line. “Second time was worse.”

Paige’s eyes traced the scar, slow and reverent. Her fingers brushed over Azzi’s shin, featherlight, not for comfort but communion. Like she understood what it had cost.

“You came back,” Paige said quietly.

Azzi’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. But I was never the same.”

Paige’s touch didn’t leave. “None of us are.”

They stayed like that for a moment, legs bare, winter wind humming faintly outside, the fire settling into quiet. The air between them had shifted again, less like a question and more like an answer they hadn’t known they were asking for.

Azzi’s hand curled tighter around Paige’s.

And neither of them let go.

[miffyscakes]

I don't want to see you with her

part one part two

SYNOPSIS: After your breakup, Caitlyn moves on with someone new — someone who is alarmingly similar in mannerisms, interests, even hairstyle to you.

WARNINGS: angst, lesbian yearning, no use of y/n, angst with happy ending, modern! au (bc it's easier on my brain)

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

A/N: I hate my ex. that little fucker bruh, anyway have fun w this part it was rlly fun to write

You freeze.

Is your mind playing tricks on you?

You stand still, thinking - even hoping - that you've somehow imagined Caitlyn's sweet voice calling out to you once more. However, as you turn around - slowly - there she is.

Her hair gets hit by the sunlight in just the perfect direction, enhancing the beautiful deep blue colour of it. While her eyes are filled with that look she once used on you so long ago if she was ever concerned about you.

She's not in a hurry as she walks towards you.

However, you notice how she's alone - that mirrored version of you now gone.

You try to speak.

Try to run.

But you can't

Your words feel as if they're trapped within a cage in your throat.

Your body feels as if it's no longer in your own control anymore.

You feel like a puppet that is unable to control itself no matter how hard it tries.

Caitlyn stops just a few feet in front of you - she's not too close, nor is she far from you. She's close enough to the point where you can see the slight differences in her face from when you last saw her.

There's more matureness within her eyes - but that softness still appears clear within them. That same softness that would make you melt so long ago.

"I hadn't expected to see you there" Caitlyn whispers softly, almost as if she's afraid that her voice will scare you away.

You let out a deep breath that you hadn't known you'd been holding this entire time. Your words still feel trapped in your throat as you try to force out an answer.

"...I hadn't planned on even coming in"

There's a short pause between you two - the longer you both stay silent the heavier the tension in the air weighs.

"She's not... I wasn't..." Caitlyn fumbles her words, but her eyes never leave yours as she tries to explain.

You just smile softly - whether you're trying to convince yourself or Caitlyn that it's alright is unsure, but it's adamant how hurt you truly are.

"Cait, you don't owe me an explanation," you tell her, trying so hard to convince yourself that you mean it.

"I know that," she replies as a painful expression washes over her face, "but I want to give you one, please."

You break your lasting gaze with Caitlyn and look around the street as people walk as if your whole heart isn't crumbling at that very moment.

You sigh and motion for Caitlyn to walk with you so you both don't block the sidewalk.

You both stay in silence for a while longer before Caitlyn breaks it. "She just reminded me of you," Caitlyn admits, looking embarrassed with herself. "I hadn't realized until I was laughing with her the way I did with you," she swallows. "And I hated myself for that."

You feel your chest tighten.

Before you can question her. Asking her why, asking her for any sort of answer, she continues to speak as if she knows what you'll ask her.

"I just missed you," Caitlyn doesn't hesitate as she speaks. "I missed you that I used anything to attempt to get over you," she admits, still not hesitating or stuttering over her words; as if she's been waiting to get this all out of her, like it's been weighing her down.

"Even if it wasn't truly you, I'd cling on."

You both continue to walk.

Neither of you knew where you were going, but you both kept going anyway.

"You don't get to miss me, Cait," you cut the silence. "You're the one that left me."

"Why don't you spend as much time with me anymore, Cait?"

You question your girlfriend, breaking the thick silence that you two have been sitting in throughout dinner.

"What do you mean, darling?" Caitlyn asks.

"It just feels as if we don't spend time together - as if we're not even a couple," you mumble, playing with the food on your plate with your fork.

Caitlyn doesn't respond this time, and just continues to eat as if she's gathering her thoughts.

The beginning of your relationship felt so beautiful.

Flowers.

Date nights.

Care for one another.

Just simply the bare minimum.

However, now it felt stale.

Boring.

Empty.

Neglected.

It felt like a new toy; at first it gets loved and played with every moment of every second, but once children get bored they begin to forget about it and move on to the next best thing available.

It felt like you were simply just tolerating the lack of nurture Caitlyn was providing for your relationship.

Like you were constantly waiting for her to magically change into the old her that treated you with genuine love; instead of bland I love you's that were only spoken out of habit after being together for so long.

"Cait?" You call her, hoping to actually get a response from her.

"There's no reason," she mumbles as she begins to play with her food as well.

"Caitlyn, please, I've constantly asked you about this for months now and nothing changes," your voice starts to rise as irritation fills you up.

"You always say that you're sorry and you'll work on it but nothing ever changes," your heart begins to tighten as you let everything pour out of you. "Am I just not worth changing for?"

You hope that this time Caitlyn will actually change.

That this time she'll actually realize how much her attitude is jeopardizing your relationship with her. However, no matter how many times you've poured your heart out to her, it never seemed like it was enough for her to change for you.

As the words hang above Caitlyn's head, it seems like they've actually affected her.

But, they hadn't affected her in the way that you had hoped.

"Then you deserve someone better," Caitlyn whispers softly. "Someone not like me."

The words you say hang heavy over Caitlyn's head - similarly to that one night.

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispers, still walking right beside you. You believe her, despite you wanting so badly not to.

"I know that doesn't make it any better. I know that, but I truly am sorry," she says softly.

You stay silent, because what can you even say to that? That you still love her? That you missed her too? That you've spent countless nights imagining this exact scenario, hoping that it'd come true? However, now that it's come true you're unsure as to how you should feel.

You want her back in your life so badly, but you're afraid of history repeating itself once more.

You force yourself to respond. your voice shaking in the slightest bit.

"Take care of yourself, Cait," you smile softly, before turning around and leaving her standing there alone for just a few seconds.

You suddenly feel her cold hand grab yours.

It's not forceful - it's simply that soft touch that you once grew so familiar to love so long ago.

"Wait," she quickly breaks the silence.

She seems to hesitate what she's about to say.

The sounds of the city fill the air as you stand there.

Your hand locked in with hers.

"I don't want this to be goodbye," she whispers, the sounds of cars and chatter almost overpowering her voice. "I don't want there to be a goodbye."

And for a second time, it feels as if time has just stopped in that very moment.

You feel your heart beating loudly in your ears.

She looks scared - terrified - but her eyes are honest. Filled with love and regret at once. You can barely hear what she's saying, but you are able to catch the words, "I still love you."

Hearing that breaks you out of the trance that you'd caught yourself in.

"I don't know if that's selfish of me to say. I know I don't deserve a second chance," she hesitates. "But if there's even the smallest chance that I could try again with you..."

She trails off, the silence around you weighing heavy and the tension thickening.

Then you feel it.

That same feeling on that day you two both met.

That feeling of your heart fluttering and your body heating up as you laid your eyes on the most beautiful girl you had ever seen in your life.

That feeling of love that you had assumed had been buried after months of silence.

It never disappeared.

It was simply hiding underneath all of those feelings of pain that you held for so long.

It was simply waiting to come out.

"I still love you too, y'know..." You whisper, your face heating up with embarrassment as you admit it.

Relief washes over Caitlyn's face - that fear that was once on it now gone, the tears she's been holding finally allowing themselves to fall. Suddenly you're in her arms, wrapped tightly as if one of you had just come home from war.

The noise of the world - cars, chatter, animals - becomes muffled as you melt into her touch. That scent that once overtook your apartment entering your nose as she holds you tightly.

"I missed you," she whispers, her voice shaking.

You nod softly.

You're not naive - nothing will change overnight.

There's healing that must be done.

Conversations that must be had.

Trust that must be rebuilt.

But now there's time for that.

There's hope.

This time you both can do this.

Together.

taglist: @freakyjorker @poeticrenaissance @autisticratbagtm @naponiac @sezzys

[maladaptive-daydreamer-23]

Requiem For Vixen

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Mal's Note: Y'all are gonna be mad at me for this one... but I'll remind you that some of you asked for more parts, and this was the only way I felt the story could move forward and still be interesting. However, I regret nothing.

Love,

Mal❤️

I LOVE MY BETA READERS MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF! @theghostofcosmichorrorpast @cringeiknow @snailsinamarchingband

Warnings: MDNI 18+ beyond this point! semipublic sex, p in v sex, oral sex fem!receiving, mentions of death, mentions of Haley Hotchner and her death, vaginal fingering, angst, fluff, oh I almost forgot reader bites Hotch, cliffhanger ending (kinda)

Additional Note: If you're tagged its because you asked me to tag you in the previous installation, if you wish to be untagged or for me not to tag you in the next chapter please message me and I will take care of it. <3

Pairing: Hotch x BAU!Reader (NO Y/N)

WC: 14.8k

AO3

Mal's Masterlist

Your eyes refused to open, your head felt so heavy and your brain seemed to be made of cotton. Not only were you unsure where you were, you didn’t know what day it was, or what year. 

You did know, however, that there was a second body in this bed with you. Strong arms held you close, and warm breath stirred your hair. 

You forced your eyelids to cooperate, and peeked down at the dark head of hair nestled into your neck. From this angle it looked like…

Hotch. 

Everything came rushing back to you at once and what you remembered… was the best morning of your life.  

He had absolutely rocked your world. You had known it would be good… but that was… Wow.

He was sleeping peacefully so you didn’t want to wake him, but you wanted to know what time it was. There was no sunlight coming through the windows, only the dim glow coming from the street lamps on the sidewalk. It was night. You’d slept all day. 

Wait. 

When had you fallen asleep?

The last thing you remembered was… 

Oh God.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and suddenly you were very glad that you had woken up first. 

You had fallen asleep with his dick still inside you. 

Which was mortifying. However, to be completely fair, the man had completely exhausted you and you’d already been over tired to begin with. 

You wondered again what time it was. 

Your phone should have been laying on the nightstand closest to you, so you carefully untangled your arm from Aaron’s and reached blindly for it. Patting around the table top until you found it. 

Powering it on, you had to wait nearly five minutes for it to stop buzzing with six weeks worth of notifications. 

It was nearly nine o’clock. 

You didn’t know what time you’d fallen asleep, but you knew you’d been asleep for over ten hours. 

You were starting to go through your messages and respond to emails and such, when the phone began to ring. 

You panic-answered it, not wanting the noise to wake Aaron. You didn’t even check to see who it was.

That was a mistake. 

“Hello?” You rasped into the phone. 

“Omg, did we wake you?” You’d recognize Penelope’s voice anywhere. 

“No, I was awake. Who’s we?” You murmured. 

“Morn’n sleeping beauty.“ Emily drawled. 

“How are you feeling?” JJ chimed in with concern, which you appreciated. 

“Who me? I’m fantastic.” You replied quietly, smirking to yourself as you glanced down at the sleeping man whose head was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“Oh, I bet you are.” Emily said, teasingly and your brows drew together. 

Your confusion only grew when the others giggled quietly in the background. 

“Am I missing something here?” You queried. 

Aaron groaned softly in his sleep and you coughed to cover it, running your fingers through his hair soothingly. 

JJ cleared her throat. 

“How’s Hotch?” She asked, a bit mischievously. 

You almost panicked, but you knew there was almost no way they could have heard him, and an even slimmer chance that they recognized his voice from one sleepy groan. 

“Last I saw him was this morning around five. He was headed home, so I haven’t the slightest. Why?” You tried not to sound guilty. 

“Really? Cause we thought he must’ve just crashed at your place.” Emily pushed. 

What the hell was going on?

“Nope. I offered, the poor guy was beat. You know him though, he politely—but firmly—declined and then went home.” You lied, whispering softly, and then to make yourself feel a little better, told one truth. “Wouldn’t even accept a cup of coffee for the ride home.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like Hotch.” JJ agreed. 

You relaxed slightly. 

“We’re a little confused though.” Garcia piped up. 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm hmm.” She hummed. “Hotch hasn’t been answering his phone all day and the SUV never made it back to Quantico. So we just assumed…” 

Shit. You hadn’t thought about that.

“Oh, well he was probably too tired to make that drive so he must have just gone straight home.” You murmured dismissively. “It’s not like him not to answer the phone though. He’s probably still sleeping, I wouldn’t bother him.”

“Is that why you’re whispering?” Emily’s tone was full of glee.  

“No…” You hissed. “I told you, he’s not here, he left this morning. My cat is sleeping on my lap, if you must know why I’m whispering. And even if Hotch was here, why is that such a big deal? He was exhausted.”

You didn’t know where the hell you came up with the idea of a cat… you didn’t even have a cat. But it was the first thing that popped into your mind, and it was better than the alternative.

Aaron stirred again, his arms tightening around you. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Well, we tracked the SUV and his phone.” Penelope admitted. Fuck. Think fast, think fast, think fast. “They’re both at your apartment.”

The jacket!

“Just a second let me check something.” You murmured, then waited thirty seconds. “Oh my God, his phone was in the pocket of his suit jacket. I wore it home, remember? Cause I was… underdressed. Yeah I have it. I’ll bring it to him in the morning.” 

“And the SUV?” JJ prompted. 

“I have no idea, maybe he called a cab. Or slept downstairs inside it like the stubborn mule he is.” You joked, and suddenly there was a hand moving slowly down your bare stomach.

Was he awake?

The girls laughed, but you were no longer focused on them. 

 “Wait, you have a cat?” Penelope asked excitedly. “Since when?!”

“Uh, yeah…” You said distractedly, because that hand was now between your legs gripping the thigh closest to him and pulling it up over his legs. Effectively giving himself access to what he seemed to be after. “I got it a couple months ago.” 

You gasped involuntarily as a finger found your clit. Circling it lightly. 

“You okay?” Emily asked. 

You cleared your throat.

“Yeah, I just remembered that I need to pay my neighbor, Marge, for taking care of the cat while I was gone.” You lied, through your teeth, which you were now clenching tightly to keep from making any obvious sounds. 

The finger started to roam again, from your clit, down to your entrance. Teasing at it playfully. 

“I want pictures!” Penelope demanded. 

“Pictures?” You choked out as the finger slipped inside you. 

“Of the kitty!” She exclaimed. “Jesus, are you alright? You sound… distracted.” 

You should have seen that coming, honestly. Of course she wanted pictures of the nonexistent cat!

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied. 

You were not fine. 

Aaron’s finger was pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, doing nothing but tormenting you with the barest tease of what you now knew he was capable of doing to you.

“I don’t have any pictures of the cat, I got him right before I went undercover, I never even decided on a name.” You bluffed. 

“That poor baby!” She cooed, as if the “cat” could hear her. “Take a picture and send it to us! We’ll help you name him!” 

Shit.

“I can’t right now Pen.” You said, biting back a whine as he curled that finger just so. “He’s all curled up in my lap and I can’t see his face. If I move him he’ll wake up and you know the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t move until the cat does…” She grumbles.

“ExactLYY!!” You yelped involuntarily as Aaron slid a second finger into your pussy. 

That made him finally look up at you with a smirk on his face, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“What are you doing?!?” You mouthed, and he had the audacity to shush you silently. 

“Are you alright?” JJ asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You hissed, then looked pointedly at Aaron and said, “The little fucker just dug his claws into me in his sleep and it caught me off guard.” 

The smirk on his face and the mischief in his eyes only grew, as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you. Leisurely, as though this was the most normal thing in the world and three of your coworkers–and best friends–weren’t on the phone. 

“Uh huh…” JJ muttered, and she didn’t sound convinced. “Well we were actually wondering if you wanted to join us? We were having a little girl’s night, we tried to call you but your phone kept going to voicemail.”

“Oh, yeah, I just turned it back on… but ya know, I’m still really tired, so I think I’m just gonna stay in.” You feigned a yawn to sound convincing. Then made direct eye contact with Aaron. “It was a rough night and then a long morning. When I got home, the cat was really excited to see me. So I knew I would have to play with him before I could get any rest, and let me tell you, he has stamina for his age.”

Aaron scowled down at you playfully, and then he started to move. Pulling his fingers out of you so slowly you could hardly contain yourself. You bit your lip to keep from moaning. 

“Oh is he old?” Penelope asked. 

“He’s practically geriatric.” You quipped.

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead, as though he were saying ‘oh really?’ and then, he simply disappeared beneath the covers. 

Oh fuck.

“Awww I wanna see him…” Penelope whined. 

You could feel Aaron’s breath on your pussy. 

“They say cats get tamer and less playful with age… less gullible… not this one though. Dangle a toy in front of him and he’ll chase it everytime.” You said, and you knew that Aaron knew you were teasing him because he chose that moment to lick a stripe up your pussy. 

You let out a strangled laugh. 

“Well we hate to leave you out.” JJ tried again. “What if we came over there instead?”

Your eyes shot wide. 

“Yeah we could bring dinner! And wine!” Emily supplied.

“Oh, no. Guys really, I’m exhausted, I wouldn’t be any fun, I just want to lay here in bed and cuddle the cat.” You protested. 

The cat seemed to like that response, and hummed contentedly from between your thighs, before lapping at your clit. 

“What was that?” Emily asked. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in question. 

“I heard something in the background.” She clarified. 

“Uh, my stomach growled, maybe that was it?” You suggested. “You mentioning dinner reminded me that I’m hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate something, sweetie?” JJ asked, sounding concerned and motherly again. 

“Um… I had some sausage for breakfast while I was playing with the cat.” You smirked to yourself.

Aaron snorted a laugh from under the covers.

“There it was again!” Emily exclaimed.

“I heard it too!” Penelope agreed. 

“That was not your stomach either!” Emily continued. “So don’t give me that again!” 

“The cat snored?” You tried weakly, swatting the back of Aaron’s head. 

“Ow?” He protested softly. 

“Shh.” You hushed him, covering the phone mic with your hand. 

His response was to latch his lips onto your clit and suck. 

Which pulled a very startled, very loud, very non explainable sound from your throat in the form of, “Fuck!” 

“Woah.” JJ said.

“That was a moan.” Emily stated, with no room for dispute.

“That was definitely a moan.” Penelope agreed, excited amusement dripping from her voice. 

“It was not a moan!” You protested. “It was-“ 

“I swear to God, if you give me some bullshit about a cat again I am coming over there and catching you in the lie! There is no cat!” Emily was adamant.

“I- I- it’s- umm-” You stuttered and fumbled for words, but your brain was not currently online. 

Because Aaron had reinserted those two—thick—fingers and was pumping them in and out while sucking on your clit. 

“Oh my God.” Emily muttered, then shouted. “Is Hotch still there?!?!”

“No!” You blurted without thinking it through. 

“So he was there at some point.”  JJ called it out immediately. 

“What? I- no- he-“ you stuttered again. “Hotch was never here!” 

Hotch was most definitely there, and he was making his presence felt more and more every second. He had started to devour you, eating your pussy like a gourmet meal. You could not focus and you were about to cum on his face, for the second time that day.

“Oh she is lying!” Penelope said excitedly. 

“I- I am not…lying!” You struggled to make the words come out of your mouth. “I don’t know where he is, the last time I saw him was this morning, and there is nothing going on between me and HOTCH!” 

Aaron chose the exact moment you said his name to curl his fingers up against your g-spot and flick your clit with his tongue. So it came out in the most pornographic moan you thought you’d ever heard. 

Especially from yourself.

Aaron hummed around your clit, sounding very pleased with himself. Unfortunately for you, that was all it took to throw you over the edge you’d been riding. You dropped the phone, and it went tumbling off the bed with a thud as you grabbed onto the blanket, clutching it for all you were worth. Biting your lip through what would’ve been a scream, but came out a strangled yelp. 

You could hear Emily calling your name from the floor, and the chaos of Penelope and JJ in the background. But you were more than a little busy riding out the intense orgasm that was pounding through you. 

Aaron licked you through it, lapping at your pussy until it stopped pulsing and your thighs stopped shaking. Then he crawled up and rested his head on your stomach, pulling back the covers so you could see his face. Smirking up at you so smugly you could only lay there and think of ways to make his life hell for this. 

“Are you okay!?!” You could just barely hear Emily from the phone speaker as it was now laying on the floor in the middle of the room. There was nothing you could do about that currently, you were fairly certain your legs weren’t going to work for the next several minutes, and you had no words. You didn’t even know what words were, actually, he had simply tongue fucked you stupid.

Aaron kissed your stomach and then got up and retrieved your phone, putting it on speaker so you could hear Emily and the others. Then he grinned at you.

“Sorry Prentiss, she can’t seem to talk right now…” He said. “The cat must have her tongue.” 

“I FUCKING KNEW-” and then he hung up the call, interrupting her mid sentence. 

You stared up at him in panicked shock. 

“Oh my God, are you cra-” you started and he just laughed shaking his head, so you trailed off, dumbfounded at his lack of concern.

“So I’m a stubborn mule, huh?” He asked with a teasing grin. 

You scowled at him. 

“As if you didn’t already know that about yourself…” You grumbled. “And in my defense, I didn’t know how you would feel about them… knowing… about whatever this is. Apparently, it's not an issue…”

He huffed a laugh. 

“They already knew, Sweetheart.” He knelt down on the edge of the bed and crawled toward you.

“How?” You asked. “We weren’t that obvious last night… were we? I mean you could’ve been a little less handsy—not that it bothered me, cause it didn’t—but other than that…” 

He hovered over you for a minute. 

“I slipped up on the phone with Morgan. He backed me into a corner this morning, just like they did with you. They have known all day.” He murmured, then dropped a kiss to your lips. “So there’s no point in hiding it from them any further.”

You hummed against his lips contentedly. Kissing him twice. 

“The exhibitionism may have been a little much though, don’t you think?” You asked, then looked up at him seriously. “I’m never going to be able to look them in the eyes… ever again. And if they tell Morgan what they heard… The jokes will be unending.” 

He smirked, then kissed your jaw, your neck, your chest… and then came back up to your lips for one more kiss, before he rolled to the side and laid on his back next to you. 

“The jokes were coming regardless, baby. Morgan may not have heard that, but he definitely knows something happened.” He sighed. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. I can tell you, that even though he’ll tease, he won’t tattle. Which, in our situation, is more than we could ask for.”

“The others–” 

“Will be discreet… well… I don’t know if they’re capable of being discreet… But they won’t tell anyone.” He joked. 

You laughed quietly and then you just laid next to him in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

Until you had a thought. 

“Oh my God…” You muttered. “Do you think they told Rossi?” 

He snorted. 

“Oh definitely, Dave is the biggest gossip on the team.” He laughed quietly as you groaned, then kissed your cheek. “He should be the last of your worries though… He won’t say a word to anyone.”

You rolled over so that you were nose to nose with him, resting your hands on his bare chest. 

“You just said he was the biggest gossip on the team, and now you want me to believe he won’t say anything?” You asked incredulously. “How could you possibly know that?”

He brushed his nose against yours three times—making your stomach do backflips—and then kissed you with a smile. 

“Because, first of all, Dave is my closest friend. He wouldn’t say anything that would get me into trouble, unless he thought there was the slightest possibility that I was hurting you; physically or emotionally.” He explained, kissing you again. “Which I wouldn’t ever do intentionally.”

“Mmm this is starting to sound like that talk that you really wanted to have earlier.” You hummed, burrowing in closer. 

“Which we really should still have…” He murmured, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand sliding slowly down your back. “Maybe over dinner?” 

You giggled as he nuzzled into your neck, leaving soft kisses everywhere.

“Are you asking me on a date, Aaron?” You teased, making him pull back and look you in the eyes. 

“Conventionally, I would have done this before I took you to bed, but yes, I am.” He admitted softly. 

“Well something tells me, nothing about this is going to be conventional. Which I happen to love, so yes, I will go on a date with you.” You smiled at him, watching as his eyes lit up. 

He closed the small distance between you and kissed you thoroughly. Your lips parted with ease and his tongue tangled with yours. That hand finding your ass and giving it a firm squeeze, making you moan into his mouth.

Then you realized something. 

“Aaron?” You questioned, pulling back just enough to speak. 

“Yeah baby?” He asked, nipping at your lips gently. 

“You said, “first of all.” That implies there’s more than one reason.” You brought the conversation back to Rossi’s gossiping habits. 

He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of your nose.

“The other reason is because it benefits him if no one comes snooping about our relationship.” He said cryptically. 

“How does that possibly affect him one way or another? We both know that the worst that would happen is they transfer me to another unit, or section. Which would suck for me, but the rest of you would be fine…” You muttered in confusion, scrunching your face up at him. 

His eyes were twinkling with mischief again as he leaned in closer. 

“I happen to know that he’s sleeping with Strauss, and if anyone came snooping into the interpersonal relationships of the BAU…” He whispered conspiratorially, as though it were the juiciest gossip he’d ever heard and you began to wonder if maybe Dave wasn’t truly the biggest gossip after all. 

It was pretty juicy though. 

“Wow, so both our Unit and Section Chiefs are sleeping with subordinates. How scandalous, Agent Hotchner.” You teased, leaning back in and putting your forehead against his. 

“It happens more than you might think, the Bureau just keeps a lid on it.” He admits. “I can think of a few more inappropriate workplace relationships off the top of my head…” 

“Hmmm… well, while you do that…” You murmured, making your voice drip with seduction, running your hands down his chest and stomach until you found the waistband of his boxers—which you were slightly irritated had found their way back onto his body—and slipped one inside. He was already hard as you wrapped your fingers around him. “I think I’ll give you some head, seeing as I’ve received four mind blowing, earth shattering, life altering orgasms from you… and you have still only gotten one in return.” 

You saw his pupils dilate, felt his cock twitch and grow impossibly harder, and his breath stuttered as you started kissing your way down his chest. 

But then your stomach growled—loudly—and you remembered that you actually were hungry. You weighed your options in your head… Get out of bed and eat, or stay in bed and fuck the delicious hunk of a man infront of you for the second time in twenty four hours… 

There was a very clear winner in your mind. 

However, Aaron also heard your stomach call out for sustenance, and he was nothing if not practical. 

“As much as I would love to feel those pretty little lips wrapped around me again…” He murmured, his voice suddenly two octaves lower and oh so raspy. “You did lie to JJ about having breakfast this morning. Which means you haven’t eaten since before you went into the club last night. That's been over twenty four hours now, Sweetheart. You need to eat.”

You groaned and let him pull you back up so that your faces were even, and gave him a pitiful little pout. 

“Technically, I didn’t lie. I said that I had sausage this morning, I did not say that I ate it, or what kind it was. Simply that I had some, and I did. Soo…” You joked, earning an amused chuckle as he shook his head. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He murmured, almost to himself, though you knew he meant for you to hear it. 

“Fuck me again, preferably, but I also would not mind being fed…” You mused, getting a sexy little smirk for your efforts. 

He kissed you slowly, as though he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it to memorize the taste of you. 

When he finally pulled away, you whined pathetically, and he laughed, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Go hop in the shower, honey. I’ll order something and have it delivered so you can eat.” He instructed. 

You looked at him skeptically for a moment. 

“Will you still be here when I get out? Or are you Irish goodbying me?” You interrogated him. 

“I’m yours all night baby…” He murmured, kissing you once more. “Promise.” 

You wished he were yours forever…

The next morning Aaron woke up early, his limbs still tangled with yours, your soft breaths moving his chest hairs as you lay sprawled across his upper body, your head laying just above his heart, and your hands resting on his shoulders. 

There was sunlight, just barely starting to trickle through the blinds. If the sun was coming up, it was around six in the morning. His body’s internal clock was a well oiled machine. Up at six, no matter the previous night’s activities. 

And last night there were plenty. 

You were sleeping so peacefully… and he truly didn’t want to wake you. 

But he also didn’t want you to wake up alone, wondering where he went, what time he snuck out, and why he didn’t say goodbye. 

And he did have to go, if it was six, then he only had three hours to drive the twenty five minutes from your place to his. Take a five minute shower, iron a shirt and press his slacks, tie a tie, have breakfast with Jack—who he hadn’t seen since the day before the raid (Jessica was a saint)—then drive the thirty minutes to Quantico. Which only added up to an hour and fifty minutes, but if he factored in the morning rush traffic and construction on the beltway… he’d be cutting it close. 

His arms were wrapped around your waist and he tightened them, wanting you even closer for just a moment. Just to savor the weight and heat of your body on his. 

He really hoped he got the chance to get used to it.  

“Sweetheart.” He murmured in your ear, stroking the side of your face with the backs of his fingers.

You moaned softly in your sleep and nuzzled in closer. He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. 

“Baby, wake up for me please…” He said just a little louder, kissing your forehead and stroking your back. 

“Mmm mm…” You mumbled sleepily. “It’s not time yet.” 

“I know, baby… You can go right back to sleep, but I don’t want you to wake up alone later and be sad that I didn’t say goodbye.” He tilted your face up just enough to give himself access to your lips, which he kissed. Once, twice, three times… 

And there… a smile was forming on your beautiful face now. 

“There you are…” He whispered. “Come on pretty girl, open your eyes…”

Your lashes started to flutter and he was breathless—speechless—as you looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes. You looked slightly dazed and a little confused, but as your eyes grew more alert, they flooded with pure adoration that made his heart pound in his chest. 

“Good morning…” You yawned, your voice raspy and sleepy

“Morning…” He hummed, kissing the tip of your nose, then your lips. 

“What time is it?” You asked, nuzzling in closer to him. 

He held you tighter and kissed your forehead again. 

“Around six.” He told you. 

“Work doesn’t start until nine. Why are we awake?” You pouted sleepily. 

“Because I have to go baby, and I wanted you to know that I was leaving instead of sneaking out.” He explained softly. 

“Oh…” You murmured. “Where are you going?” 

“Home, I need clean clothes for work, and I want to have breakfast with Jack. I haven’t seen him in three days.” He explained softly, running his fingers through your hair. Taking every opportunity to touch you while he could. 

Your eyes shot wide and you sat up straight. 

“Oh my God, Aaron! You haven’t seen Jack in three days?!” You exclaimed. “What are you still doing here? I mean, I like having you here but Jack is more important, you should’ve gone home last night! He is probably worried or at least missing you!” 

Your concern for Jack’s emotional state was so endearing, he could help himself and pulled you back down with him. Peppering kisses all over your cheeks. 

“You’re so sweet, pretty girl.” He murmured. “It was already Jack’s bedtime when we woke up last night, and I wouldn’t have made it home before he fell asleep. There was no sense in it, when I knew I would make it home before he woke up this morning. So I stayed.” 

You relaxed slightly and he smiled. 

“I’ll be dressed and ready for work before he opens his eyes. I promise.” Aaron assured you, stroking your cheek. “And yes I’m sure he misses me but he’s used to me being gone for longer stretches of time than this. He’s okay I promise, he’ll just be excited to see me when he wakes up.” 

“Okay…” You murmured, “I feel less guilty for keeping you from him now.” 

He chuckled softly and kissed you thoroughly. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Sweetheart.”

It took him five more minutes to get out your door, and the whole drive home all he could think about was you.

He made it home by six forty and tried to be as quiet as possible coming in. He’d already pulled his phone out to send Jess a text, letting her know it was just him and not to be scared.

“Where have you been?” 

He looked up and found Jess sitting on the couch with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She nodded her head toward the kitchen where a second mug waited next to the coffee pot. 

“I stayed at a co-worker’s place, we’d been up for forty eight hours and once I dropped them off, I was too tired to make it back to the bureau and then home.” He explained on his way through the living room, walking over to grab the second mug and pour his own cup. “I’m sorry I should have called and let you know, I was just exhausted and it slipped my mind.”

“Oh?” Jess called softly, so he could hear her, but she wouldn’t wake Jack. “Who? Was it Dave, or Spencer? Maybe Derek?”

He wasn’t sure why that detail mattered, but he was happy to make small talk with her if it made her happy. She did so much for him and Jack, that Aaron sometimes felt like he owed her a debt he could never fully repay.

“Uh, yeah I stayed with Dave.” He said, choosing the one he felt was most likely to cover for him if asked later. 

Silence.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he picked up the now full mug. 

She was squinting at him and in that moment she looked so much like Haley that his heart clenched with pain for a brief moment, and had to take a deep breath to shake it off. 

“Wanna try that again?” She murmured, then took a sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim. 

“Who are you, my mother?” He joked, going to sit in the chair adjacent to the couch and shooting her a teasing grin on his way by. 

“No, just the closest thing you have to a big sister, and you’re my little brother… I’m allowed to worry. Especially with your job…” She shrugged, as if that wasn’t a guilt trip. He knew she was just fishing for answers though and wasn’t actually trying to upset him. “Also, Dave called me yesterday morning, looking for you. Then called me back to let me know that they found you and you were more than alright.”

God, fucking damn it, Dave.

“I was alright.” He shrugged simply, taking a sip of his coffee. Knowing good and well he was caught in a lie, but not really caring to come clean yet. Jess wouldn’t know exactly what he was lying about.

He wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it, not with Jess. He didn’t want to taint this—whatever this was—with all the emotions that would come with that conversation. 

Not yet. 

“So…” She drawled innocently, too innocently. “Who's the girl?”

 Aaron choked on his coffee. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He gasped through the coughing fit that overtook him. 

But he could feel his cheeks burning. 

“That is the exact look you had on your face that time I caught you sneaking out of Haley's bedroom window twenty years ago.” Jess accused, a look of pure glee on her face. “Aaron Hotchner, you have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell me?! Spill!” 

He was busted… there was no getting out of it now. Not with Jess. When she put her mind to something, she got her way… come hell or high water. 

“ I- it’s- I don’t-” He stuttered, trying to come up with an acceptable answer, and sighing when the best he could do was, “It’s complicated, and very, very new. But I really like her, and I did ask her out–”

“ I would hope so,” Jess interrupted with a shit eating grin, “you spent the last twenty four hours at her place!”

Aaron thought he might just melt into the floor and die. Jess was the last person he wanted to be having this conversation with right now. He just knew his face was blazing red, he was sure because it definitely felt like it was on fire. 

“Jess! I’m not doing this with you right now, I have to get ready for work before Jack wakes up so I can eat breakfast with him before I go.” He started to get up and walk to his room, intent on following through with his plan—and promise to you—to be ready for work before Jack woke so he could give the boy his full attention.

Jess just laughed. 

“Fine… Keep your secrets! But Aaron…” She called after him, and the softer tone had him pausing in the hall. 

“Yes?” He looked back at her. 

“I’m happy for you… It’s about time.” She murmured, and the smile on her face was open and genuine… She meant it. 

Aaron was sure that if he opened his mouth to respond, he would tear up instead. 

He was happy too, in a way that he hadn’t been… in a very long time. 

So he smiled back at her and then continued on to take his shower. 

Jack had been over the moon to see him. 

He’d had a million questions and a thousand stories to tell Aaron when he’d come into the kitchen and found him sitting at the table with his Aunt Jess. 

Aaron answered every question and listened intently to every tale the boy told, and when it was time for him to head to work he’d gotten the biggest hug with a whispered, “I love you Daddy!” 

He couldn’t imagine a better start to the day than the one he’d had this morning. 

Traffic was light on the way to work, he didn’t get stopped at a single light and the closer he got to Quantico the more suspicious he got. He was never this lucky. 

Usually, mornings felt like the universe was conspiring against him. 

So he was bracing himself for the other shoe to drop as he walked into the bullpen and started the coffee machine as he did every morning. Then he walked to his office, flipping on lights as he went.

He was the first one in, as per usual, and so he sat down to catch up on his emails from the last two days. Then his phone dinged twice. 

The first message made him grin ear to ear.

Pretty Girl: Omg I fell asleep after you left and just woke up about 15 minutes ago, I’m gonna haul ass to the office as quickly as I can. 

He shook his head with a soft chuckle and sent back a response. 

Drive safely please, no one else is here yet either and Morgan is late at least twice a week. You’re fine. - A.H. 

He looked at the message and thought it looked too formal, too stiff, and considering the fact that he knew what it felt like to be buried inside you… that seemed a little cold. So he sent a second message. 

I think I left my suit jacket at your apartment this morning, I was a little preoccupied. I'll have to come back by and get it soon. -Aaron

He didn’t even have time to check the other message before you responded. 

Pretty Girl: I’ll grab it on my way out, but uh… You don’t need a reason to stop by, I’ll always be happy to see you. ;)  Also, why do you sign your messages to us? You know your contact information is saved in our phones, right? I have always wanted to ask you that and now that you’ve literally seen my pussy… I think I have enough good will to get a pass.

He snorted to himself. 

Maybe because I’m geriatric and just don’t know how to use technology… And I’ve done a lot more to your pussy than just look at it, or do you need your memory refreshed? I would be very glad to help in that endeavor. –The man who made you come four times yesterday

Pretty Girl: Do you want me to be late? Because if you keep talking to me like that I’m going to have to pull over on the way there and take care of the throbbing sensation I’ve now got between my thighs.

Don’t text and drive… Come to my office when you get here and I’ll take care of it for you.

He didn’t get a response, so he assumed you were doing as he asked, and refraining from texting while driving. So he checked the other message he’d gotten just after yours. 

Strauss: I need to see you in my office at 9:15

Aaron checked his watch. Nine o’ five. He had ten minutes to chug a cup of coffee, maybe prep with some ibuprofen (in anticipation of the headache he got anytime he had to deal with her), and then walk up to her office. 

There was a knock on the doorframe. 

“Mornin’ lover boy…” 

Aaron groaned inwardly, then looked up at Morgan standing in the doorway. 

“Where’s Foxy Loxy?” Morgan teased. 

“She sent me a text telling me she’d overslept and was going to be late.” He tried to brush it off, walking toward the door to go start the coffee pot. 

“We figured you two would’ve just ridden in together this morning, ya know, since you were still at her house at Nine o’clock last night.” Morgan teased, following him down the stairs and through the bullpen. 

“I went home to see my son.” Aaron muttered, not specifying when he’d gone home.

“Jack’s bedtime is at like eight thirty…” Morgan quipped. 

He couldn’t help the small smile that he had to bite back at the fact that Morgan knew Jack’s bedtime. He was a great friend. 

No matter how annoying he was being at the moment.

“I didn’t say I saw him last night…” Aaron smirked, throwing Derek a bone, just to get him off his back. 

He let out a bark of laughter and clapped Aaron on the shoulder. 

“My man!” He crowed. 

Aaron just rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“I have a meeting with Straus in…” Aaron checked his watch. “Eight minutes. I would appreciate it if you’d get the team going on the morning briefing if I’m not back by ten.” 

Morgan’s teasing expression dropped immediately as Aaron started pouring himself a mug of coffee, then silently offered to pour one for the other man as well. 

“I’m good… What does Strauss want? Early meetings with her are never good… she’s cranky in the morning.” Morgan warned, as if Aaron didn’t already know.

“She didn’t say.” He answered. “Just told me to be in her office at nine fifteen.”

“I don’t like that, Hotch… I don’t like that at all.” Derek muttered. 

Aaron just sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sure everything is fine… We haven’t had any major discrepancies recently, we executed that raid with precision and we knew going in there would be casualties, but we didn’t lose any agents or officers, we even got our UC out clean.” Hotch shrugged. “Unless one of you has something to confess… then she probably just wants an update on this investigation, since we’re partnered with the Organized Crime division, we made a huge bust but it’s not over.”

“What if she knows about you and Miss Vixen doing things together that are not so clean…” Morgan teased, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. 

“I don’t see how she could, unless they called her about the SUV, but even then that’s easily explainable.” Hotch assured him. “Everything is fine Morgan, if there is something to worry about, I will let you know.” 

“Okay…” Derek muttered. “But I still don’t like it.”

With that, Aaron sat his mug in the sink, patted Derek on the shoulder and made his way up to the lair of the dragon.

“We need to talk.”

Those were the first words Erin Strauss said to him when he entered her office. 

They did not inspire much confidence. 

“Well, I didn’t assume you ordered me up here for coffee.” He smarted off… then kicked himself…Why couldn’t he just sit down and be quiet? Now she was gonna be pissy. 

“Aaron, this is serious.” She said, “The Organized Crime Section Chief called me this morning.”

Hotch stiffened. 

“Your UC was compromised.” 

Everything was not fine.

You were forty five minutes late. 

You’d made it down stairs and then you’d realized that you couldn’t text him and drive at the same time if you’d wanted to. 

Your car was still at Quantico.

You’d have to call a cab. Or an uber… but either way… you were gonna be much later than you’d originally expected. 

You picked up your phone again to call Aaron and let him know… and then you had another horrible realization. 

You’d forgotten to put your phone on the charger the night before.

You’d been a little preoccupied, as Aaron had put it. 

Your phone only had ten percent, and you figured it’d be better to use it to hail a cab, than to call Aaron, because what could he do? 

Besides, call a cab for you from his phone. 

You didn’t want to bother him with it, so you called the cab and then turned your phone off to spare your battery until you made it to work, running back upstairs quickly to grab a charger.

The cab took another fifteen minutes to get there. 

By that point you knew you’d be lucky if you made it in time for the briefing. 

The cabbie must’ve been like eighty five years old. 

That’s how he drove anyway… five under the speed limit, the whole way and he got stuck at every single light. 

You’d been ready to scream. 

When you’d finally arrived at the office, the entire unit was in an uproar. People were scattering like roaches in every direction. Morgan was standing on top of his desk—shouting orders—JJ and Emily were both at their desk phones, nearly screaming to be heard over the commotion. Penelope was in the conference room, a laptop in front of her on the table. She was in a state of panic and Reid was doing his best to console her. 

You looked around for Aaron. There. In his office with Rossi, he was on his cell phone, it looked like he was calling someone, and then every time they didn’t answer, the furrow in his brow would deepen. His usual suit jacket had been discarded somewhere, his tie was missing, he had two buttons undone on his shirt and his sleeves were rolled up halfway to his elbows. 

Something was seriously wrong.

You picked your way through the crowd, trying to get to someone so they could tell you what was going on. You reached Morgan first, and tugged on the leg of his pants, just to get his attention. 

“What is happening?!?!” You shouted up at him. 

When he looked down and saw you, his eyes widened with… relief? Then he grabbed you by the arm and hauled you up onto the desk with him. 

“Morgan!” You protested, but he wasn’t listening to you. 

“Everybody quiet! QUIET!” He shouted, and the bull pen fell still. JJ and Emily gasped and then Morgan shouted one last thing as he turned you to face Aaron’s office, “HOTCH!” 

Aaron turned and looked out his window. When he made eye contact with you, he dropped his phone and came running out of his office, Rossi hot on his trail. 

“What is happening?” You asked again as the crowd parted for him like the red sea. 

Nobody answered you. Not as Aaron reached the desk, grasped both your hips and unceremoniously transferred your feet to the floor. Not as he took you by the elbow and pulled you, gently but firmly up to his office. Not as he slammed the door and closed the blinds.

They just stared until they could no longer see you, in wide eyed relief. 

“Aaron, what in the world?! What is–” 

He backed you up against the door and kissed you. 

His hands were everywhere; your face, your shoulders, your arms, your waist, your hair… It was like he was checking to make sure you were still in one piece. 

You didn’t know what had frightened him so badly–terrified him, it seemed–but you were happy to console him if you could. So you let him kiss you, until he was satisfied. 

He finally pulled away, just enough so that he could speak–against your lips with his forehead pressed to yours–but he did not let go. His hands cupping both sides of your head. 

“Where have you been?” He breathed. 

“I- I told you I was going to be late…” You murmured, confusion wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what you were feeling.

“You weren’t answering your phone, your car was in the parking lot but you were nowhere to be found, none of your neighbors would pick up their phones…” He started listing things like they were explanation enough, but they weren’t.

“My phone was almost dead, I forgot to charge it last night. I turned it off to save the battery just in case I needed it. I also forgot my car was here so I had to catch a cab, and he was the slowest driver in history I swear and then– Aaron what’s wrong?” You pulled back farther to look at him. 

He was shaking. 

“Are you angry at me?” You whispered. “I’m sorry I was so late, I didn’t mean to be…” 

He shook his head and just pulled you into his arms. Holding your head against his chest tightly and pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“No baby, I’m not mad at you.” He murmured. “I thought I’d lost you…” 

“Lost me??” You asked him incredulously. “Aaron what is going on!?” 

He pulled you over to the couch and sat down beside you, unwilling to be separated by a desk. 

“Sweatheart… you were compromised… Organized Crime called Strauss this morning to tell her they suspected your cover was blown.” He explained. “And then we couldn’t find you.” 

No. That wasn’t possible…

“What?” You asked, your heart pounding in your chest as fear took hold. “No, I got out clean. There’s no way.” 

“I’m sorry, honey, but you didn’t… We thought you did… but apparently one of the bouncers recognized–” He paused and clenched his fist in his lap. “He recognized me.” 

“You? How–” You knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “The private room… He remembered you from the night we…”

“Yeah… He did.” Aaron nodded. “Apparently Organized Crime also has a UC in the ring… he sent in a warning at his last check in. They know about you. I’m so sorry, baby…”

You were shocked… you knew—of course—when you signed up for this, that something like this could happen… but you never imagined that it would.

“What do I do?” You finally had the wherewithal to ask. 

“We, will keep you safe–” 

There was a knock at the door. 

Aaron nodded you over toward the desk and you moved to sit in one of the two chairs as Aaron sat in his desk chair. 

“Come in.” He called out. 

You shot Aaron a nervous glance, as Chief Strauss entered the office. 

“I heard you found her.” She said immediately and then her eyes fell on you. “Ah good you’re already here. We’re glad to see you safe and sound. Let’s talk about next steps.”

Aaron cleared his throat. 

“I was just getting to that.” He said, glancing back at you. “I think this team is more than capable of protecting her, we can work out a schedule and she’ll stay with one of us every week. She’ll never be alone and once we take the ring down, everything will go back to normal.”

Strauss frowned at him and shook her head. 

“I know you can be brash, Aaron, but let's not be so shortsighted. How is your team supposed to focus on the rest of your case load if they’re so busy protecting her. Taking down this ring could take years, and our entire case rests on her testimony. Without it you have no probable cause and no reason for raiding that night club.” Strauss reasoned. “So of course she must be protected at all costs, but your team doesn’t have the time or the resources. Correct me if I’m wrong Agent, but you’re unattached, no spouse, no children, no close family?” 

You blinked at her, in shock for a moment. She spoke as though your life was only as valuable as your testimony. 

“Erin.” Hotch muttered, giving her a look that you didn’t quite understand. “She is invaluable to this unit, and I would be hard pressed to find a replacement.” 

“I asked you a question.” Strauss said to you, ignoring him. 

You snapped out of it. 

“Yes ma’am, that’s correct.” You murmured softly, warily. 

You didn’t like the way Aaron was looking at her, you didn’t like the way she was looking at you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. 

“It would be in the best interest of the case—and your safety of course—if you went into the program.” She said bluntly. 

You felt your brow furrow. 

“What program?” You whispered… because speaking any louder seemed unwise at that moment…

“Witness Protection.” They said it at the exact same time. Strauss sounded determined, Aaron sounded defeated. 

“What?” You felt your chest caving in, your breaths starting to accelerate, tears welling in your eyes and you could only look at Aaron. “Sir. I- I don’t need that kind of protection, I can stay. I don't want to uproot my life for this.”

You knew that only he heard the unspoken, I don’t want to leave you for this.

The look he gave you would’ve broken your heart if it wasn’t shattering already. 

“Can you give us a week? If we can’t function as a unit and protect her at the same time, then we’ll send her into the program.” He bargained. 

“Aaron…” She sighed. “I didn’t want to tell her this, but if you two are going to be stubborn… The other UC made contact again. He was calling for an extraction, he thought they suspected him too… His unit didn’t get there in time.”

The panic that bubbled up in your chest was sickening, your heart rate skyrocketed, your body began to shake uncontrollably, you broke out in a cold sweat and you couldn’t breathe. 

“Shit.” You vaguely heard Aaron say, everything sounded like you were underwater. “Give me till the end of the day, she won’t leave the building, and I’ll have her ready to go by five.” 

“I’ll let the Marshalls know.” Strauss murmured, then laid her hand on your shoulder. You looked up at her on instinct alone and her face softened slightly. “You did good work… The Marshalls know what they’re doing, you’ll be in good hands.”

Then she left the room. 

Aaron had you in his arms as soon as the door clicked shut. 

“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He murmured. 

One of his hands stroked your hair as he pressed your head to his chest, the other on your back. You could hear his heart beat–strong and steady–it was the only thing tethering you to solid ground. The only thing keeping you from spiraling. 

You didn’t cry, you were too shocked to cry. 

You just sat there–shaking–in stunned silence. 

“Talk to me sweetheart…” He murmured after… you didn’t even know how long. “What’s going on in there?” 

He tapped the side of your head with the tip of his finger.

“I don’t know…” You murmured, shaking your head as you pulled away, just enough to look up at him, making eye contact. “I- I know that it’s safer for the team… if I go… but I don’t wanna leave the BAU… I don’t wanna leave you.” 

“You’re not leaving to protect us, baby, it’s you that’s in danger here.” He murmured, you nodded that you knew… and he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head up. “And you are not leaving. Not for good, it will be a leave of absence, just a sabbatical. I won’t replace you, the position will still be waiting for you when all this is over. I promise.”

You nodded, biting your lip, hesitant to ask what you really wanted to know. 

“And so will I.” He whispered. “Whatever is between us… it’s worth waiting for.”

That was when the tears started to fall down your cheeks. 

“I could be gone for years, Aaron, I can’t ask that of you…” You whimpered. 

“I would wait decades to feel how I feel when I’m with you.” He confessed, wiping away tears with his thumbs as they rolled down your cheeks. 

You didn’t care that you were in the office, you didn’t care that the door was unlocked, you didn’t care about anything in that moment… You just knew that you needed to kiss him… 

At least one more time. 

So you surged forward and melded your lips to his. 

He met you half way, with a tender sort of passion that told you this wasn’t going to end with a kiss. When he buried his hands in your hair, you whimpered against his lips… 

“I need you…” You sighed, barely breaking the kiss. 

He hauled you up out of your chair, picking you up by the backs of your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you across the room. He locked the door, pressing your back into it as he parted your lips with his tongue. 

You let him in easily, your hands going to the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair. 

He tasted of coffee and salt.

You realized then, that the salt…was from your tears… Still steadily rolling down your cheeks. 

He didn’t seem to mind. 

Leaning back slightly, and stroking them with his thumbs as he looked at you. Then, as if compelled to do it, he leaned forward and kissed the tears away, so tenderly you thought you might die from the sweetness. 

He turned with you still in his arms—wrapped around him so tightly nothing could have pried you away—and laid you onto your back on the couch, lowering himself over the top of you. 

He started to kiss his way down your throat and when he found the collar of your shirt he started to unbutton it slowly, continuing his trail of kisses with every button he freed. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders, clinging to him as if he might disappear if you let go… Because you knew, this could be the last time you ever felt him this close. 

It wasn’t fair. 

You’d only just found your way to each other. You should’ve had so much more time.

Two days would never be enough. 

His mouth trailed down your stomach and he found the button of your pants with his fingers, undoing it with barely a thought. He knelt at your feet beside the couch and gently removed your shoes. Looking up at you with so many emotions swirling around in his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint what they were. 

Then he hooked his thumbs into your pants and slipped them down over your hips, pressing a kiss to the point of each hip bone as he did. The warmth of his mouth on your skin had you arching up off the couch. 

When he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the front of your panties, just below the little black bow on the waist band, you moaned. 

He made his way back up your torso to your mouth, trailing kisses until he reached your lips. Kissing you deeply, so that any sounds you made would be caught by his mouth. Then his hand slipped beneath the lace of your panties, finding your clit and circling it with gentle precision. 

You slid your hands down his back and tugged the tail of his shirt out of his slacks, reaching beneath the fabric, desperate to feel his skin beneath your finger tips instead. 

He shuddered at your touch, leaning further into it and deepening the kiss, his teeth nipping at your lips gently. 

You whimpered softly and pressed up into his hand with your hips, his fingers dipped down from your clit and found you already wet for him. 

“Aaron, please.” You whispered against his lips. “I need you.”

You knew you didn’t have a lot of time. Not here. 

He sat up, dragging your panties down your legs slowly. 

The sound of his belt buckle jingling, the rasp of his zipper, and your mingled panting breaths filled the silence. 

Your eyes never left his, and his never left yours. 

As he lined himself up with your entrance, he lowered himself back over you. His lips met yours again as he slowly pushed into you, catching the low groan that escaped you. 

You felt every inch of him as he stilled inside of you. 

He kept kissing you through it, one hand on the sofa next to your head, the other cupping your cheek. 

When he started to move, his strokes were long and slow, like he was memorizing the way it felt to be inside of you. To be kissing you. He pulled away from your lips, and his eyes roved your face, the hand on your cheek threading through your hair instead. Pushing it away from your eyes. Taking in every little detail of you and committing it to his memory. 

Committing you to memory.

The realization that he also knew that this could be it—that you could be gone for years or end up dead—was too much for you to bear and you began to cry again. 

Tears slipped down your cheeks no matter how hard you tried to blink them away. 

“Baby?” He didn’t even have to voice the question, just stopped moving and looked at you with concerned eyes. 

“You’re looking at me like you’re never gonna see me again and I… it just feels like this is it. This is all we get.” You explained, wiping at your own tears. Trying to get rid of them. 

He grasped your wrist, gently moving it away from your face as your tears fell freely. 

“This is not the last time.” He murmured, wiping them away with his thumb. “This will not be the last time I hold you, it will not be the last time I kiss your lips, or the last time I fuck you until you think you’ve seen God.”  

You knew the last line was supposed to make you laugh… but you only sobbed harder at the memory. The last two days had been so perfect. 

“Hey… sweetheart listen to me.” He whispered. “We will get that first date, we will get to experience the relentless teasing of Morgan and Prentiss, we will have so many firsts together that it’ll be like this never happened.” 

You both knew that those were pretty words… but it was a promise he couldn’t make. You let him have that hope though, because you wanted to believe just as badly. 

So you nodded and pulled him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. He started to move inside you again, his thrusts a little more urgent now, like he needed you so desperately he could hardly contain himself. 

And you felt that urgency too… growing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t hold back.” You murmured against his lips on a gasp for air. 

It was like he only needed to know you wanted him just as badly in that moment as he needed you, because as soon as the words left your mouth he let all restraint fly out the window. 

Your head tipped back on a strangled moan as he fucked you deeper and harder than he had been before. He muffled the sound with his own mouth, kissing you with bruising passion. 

“Shh, I know it feels good baby, but I need you to stay quiet, unless you want the whole bullpen to know what I’m doing to you.” He murmured against your lips when you quieted. 

Just like that, your brain left the building, as it tended to do when this man touched you and spoke to you like that. 

The force of his thrusts were moving your body… and the couch, which had started to make a scraping sound against the floor. 

 Aaron wasted no time, scooping you up off the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you to the closest wall. Where he fucked you like his life depended on it, slipping one hand between your head and the wall so you wouldn’t bump against it, and holding you aloft with the other under your thigh. 

He kissed you like you were water in the desert and he hadn’t had a drop in days. The strength of his lower body had you secured against the wall as he pounded into you. 

His hand moved from your thigh and slipped down between your bodies. His fingers located your clit with practiced ease that had you biting your lip—wait, no, that was his lip—to keep quiet. He groaned softly at the sting of your teeth and tangled his fingers into your hair, tugging on it just hard enough for you to feel it. 

His lips moved from yours as he kissed his way across your cheek and down your neck, nipping and sucking lightly at the skin there. 

It made you tighten around him and he moaned quietly. 

“I’m gonna think about this every night until I have you in my arms again, I won’t be able to help it.” He whispered, biting your earlobe gently. “When I close my eyes I’ll see the face you make when you come, I’ll hear the sounds I drag from you with my mouth, feel the way you clench around my cock… nothing—no one—could ever compare. Not to you.” 

You felt that tell tale tension rising in your core… the way he spoke to you… 

The way his fingers worked your clit in tandem with the thrusts of his hips—his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you… Every. Single. Time. 

All that combined with his mouth on your neck—lips, tongue and teeth finding every sensitive patch of skin—was almost too much to bear. 

“Aaron!” You whimpered as he drove you closer and closer to that edge, clutching at him desperately for anything to hold on to. 

“I know, Sweetheart, I know… I can feel you. You’re so close aren’t you? Just need a little more, huh?” He murmured against your neck.

“Yes!” You whined, your nails sinking into his biceps, the only place you could find purchase. “Aaron, please!” 

“Okay baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?” His voice rolled over you like a caress, making the knot in your core tighten even further and you could only whimper in response. He kissed your jaw and your eyes fluttered closed. “It’s okay baby, bite my shoulder if you need to.” 

The very thought of biting him… 

So you did.

You reached up and pulled his collar to the side, and sank your teeth into the muscle where his neck met his shoulder. 

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groaned in your ear, it was the most obscene sound you’d ever heard, the rasp in his voice knocking the little breath you had from your lungs. 

The ball of tension in your core exploded. 

You bit down harder on Aaron’s shoulder just to keep from screaming and he held you close as your whole body tensed so tightly you weren’t even sure you were breathing. 

“Baby I- I’m-” He started trying to pull out of you, but you held on tightly with your arms and legs. 

“Don’t pull out!” You pleaded, through the euphoric bliss flooding your body. 

“Fuck!” He gasped, and you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up as he thrusted through it. 

Your body went limp, your vision fuzzy, your breathing staggered. 

You let your head fall to his shoulder as you panted. 

His chest was heaving as he leaned into you, using his body weight to hold you up and not much else. 

“We’re making a habit of that…” He murmured after a moment. “As adults we really should know better.” 

“A habit of what?” You mumbled, your brain too sex-adled to put it together on your own. 

“Me coming inside you…” He responded quietly. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing and I’ll never get enough of it, but a pregnancy is the last thing you need right now.”

You scoffed. 

“That’s what pills are for.” You joked. “But can you imagine trying to explain that to the team… Christ… I can practically hear Morgan and Garcia calling us mommy and daddy now…” 

He groans in exasperated amusement. 

“I’ll give you the money for one, though you do know those aren’t one hundred percent effective, right?” He murmurs, leaning his head over and kissing your forehead. 

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, nodding. “That wasn’t the pill I was referring to though. I’m on birth control, but I guess the added protection wouldn’t hurt. Since birth control isn’t always fool proof either.” 

He just pressed another kiss to your forehead and then carried you back to the couch. Laying you down on your back as he slowly pulled out of you, making you both moan softly. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up…” He murmured. “We need to tell the others what the plan is.”

Aaron had a million things on his mind as he helped you get cleaned up. 

He had found some baby wipes in his filing cabinet—that he kept around because they were handy to have everywhere when you had a young child—and brought them back over to the couch. 

“Lay back for me, sweetheart.” He murmured as he knelt by your hips. 

“You don’t have to do that.” You whispered, biting your bottom lip and blushing probably the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen. 

“I made the mess. I’ll clean it up.” He smirked at you, as your face went from pink to red. “Baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed. I enjoy taking care of you.” 

“Okay…” You whispered. 

And he was getting a weird read on your body language… he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

“Unless that’s going to make you uncomfortable?” He asked, fishing for an explanation for your sudden loss of confidence. 

“Not at all!” You shook your head almost violently as you tried to assure him that wasn’t the case. 

Okay… that wasn’t it… 

So he went about gently cleaning you up, knowing that you would tell him what was bothering you eventually. You couldn’t handle the silence—he’d noticed—you always felt the need to fill it, and that was fine with him. He loved to hear your voice. 

It wasn’t until he was helping you slip back into your panties that you spoke up. 

“Aaron?” You murmured softly, hesitantly. 

“Hmm?” He hummed, biting back his smile. 

“I uh- I don’t want you to think…” You bit your lip again and looked away. 

“That’s gonna be a bit of a problem in our line of work sweetheart.” He teased softly. 

“Aaron…” You groaned, but he could hear the amusement in your tone. 

“What is it baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your knee before turning to grab your pants off the floor. 

“I just… I need you to know that I don’t just… do that… with just anyone. I’m not usually irresponsible like that…” You explained—very vaguely, he might add—and yet he only felt more confused. 

“Do what, sweetheart?” He asked for clarification as he gathered your pant legs up so they’d be easy for you to step into, then pulled your legs over the side of the couch so that your feet landed in the holes. 

And you just let him, not making a single move on your own to help. Which he found both amusing and endearing, especially being an expert in body language. This screamed complete and total trust. 

At least on the physical level, you knew he’d never hurt you. 

“I don’t let guys… finish like that… inside me, I mean.” You seemed to struggle getting the words out. “I- I’m not like that, I know that’s incredibly risky for so many reasons. I- I’m not easy… It’s just… it’s different with you. I don’t think when it comes to you, I just…” 

Aaron’s brain short circuited. 

He didn’t hear the rest of your sentence, he was too busy processing the first few fragmented phrases. It seemed that you were in the process of trying to convince him that you were not promiscuous. 

Which he already knew. 

So this confused him. He was unsure of what he might have said or done to imply that you were. He was, however, very sure that he hated the very implication that he’d made you feel that way. 

“Honey…” He murmured, reaching up to cup your face in his palm. 

You just kept talking. Prattling on about how he was the first person you’d ever allowed to take such a liberty with you—which made his toes curl and gave him butterflies, (he would examine those phenomena later) —and how it wasn’t like you to sleep with someone before you’d even been on a date. 

Ah… There it was. 

Last night he’d said, conventionally he’d take you on a date before sleeping with you. Then just a minute ago he’d pointed out that he probably shouldn’t make a habit of finishing inside you because it wasn’t safe… and he’d told you that contraceptives weren’t completely effective. 

Yeah, he could see where you might have taken that the wrong way. 

He took your face in both hands and kissed you. Thoroughly.

It shocked you enough to quiet you. 

“Honey, I never thought you were any of those things.” He assured you. “It’s not exactly a normal situation we’re in right now… the way I feel about you is… intense. It makes sense that we would get carried away and, clearly, that's something we both seem to… enjoy… and that’s all that matters, as long as we’re safe about it.” 

You blinked at him for a second and there were a million different thoughts running across your face. Most of them seemed to be filthy. 

“I really wish we had time to do whatever just went through your head.” He teased as he pulled you to your feet and then pulled your pants up over your thighs and hips. “Unfortunately…”

You grinned up at him. 

“We should probably make an appearance soon, or people might wonder.” You finished his thought. 

Then, together you made sure your clothes were straightened and hair was neat. Aaron put his jacket and tie—which you straighten for him—back on and then he watched you fix your make up. Thinking to himself how beautiful you were the entire time. 

“Ready?” He asked when you turned back toward him. 

You nodded your head and he held his hand out to you from where he now sat behind his desk. You came around the corner of it and took his outstretched hand and he pulled you down into his lap. 

The little giggle that bubbled out of you made his heart clench, he didn’t know when he’d next hear that sound… and he’d started to get used to it.

“Aaron!” You hummed happily. “You said we had to go!” 

“I know…” He murmured, looking up at you and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I just want you all to myself… for at least one more minute.” 

Sadness flooded your eyes and he immediately regretted bringing that up. 

“Do I really have to go?” You whispered, holding back tears again. 

Aaron took a deep, in through his nose—hold 1, 2, 3, 4…—out through his mouth. His face tipping up to the ceiling, his eyes closing. He knew he had to say that you did have to go… 

It was the safest thing for you… even if it broke both your hearts.  

“Yes.” He sighed. “Because staying puts you in twice the danger. Staying and working on this case puts you in direct contact with people who have orders to kill you. But in WITSEC, you’ll get a whole new identity, you can alter your appearance, and they will get you far away from here. You’ll be safe.” 

And yet… he had that little nagging feeling in the back of his mind… a little voice that whispered: ‘Are you sure she’ll be safe? The last time you put the woman you loved in WITSEC… you never saw her alive again.’ 

He recognized that voice, it haunted him in every decision he made. The voice belonged to a dead man… he shoved that voice into a deep dark hole in the back of his mind. 

WITSEC was safer than staying here, and last time the situation had been much different. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been safer than I am right now.” You murmured. 

He smiled softly at you, at the implication that his arms were the safest place you could think of.

“I’m glad you think so…” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose. “We should go, we have prepping to do before I send you with the Marshals.” 

“Prepping?” You asked. 

“You’ll see.” He answered. 

A few minutes later, when you walked together into the conference room to find the others… they were making a plan. 

“Hotch!” Morgan said upon seeing the two of you. “We’ve got a plan, we wanna run it by you, but we’ve got a schedule all worked out and we think we can manage the case load and this case, all while protecting Foxy. Here’s what we’ve got-“ 

Aaron held up a hand. 

“Stop.” He said softly, glancing down at you to find tears in your eyes again. He hated seeing you cry. He laid a hand on the small of your back before he continued. “There’s already a plan, it’s already being put into motion. I appreciate this effort from you all, truly I do… but the circumstances are more complicated than we thought. We can’t handle this on our own and keeping her here with us only puts her in more danger, because we have to keep working the case.” 

The room was silent for a second, confusion thick in the air. 

“Okay…” Morgan said. “Then what’s the plan, fill us in so we can help.” 

Aaron pressed his lips together in a tight line… he knew the reaction this was going to get. He knew that the others would hate this just as much as he did and if anything happened to you…

They’d blame him just as much as he’d blame himself. 

A small sniffle drew everyone’s eyes over to you. You were crying again. 

“She’s crying.” Penelope whispered. “Why is she crying?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying not to.” You whimpered, and Aaron couldn’t take it. 

He pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight, in front of the whole team. 

He didn’t care to hide it from them, not when they already knew. 

“You cry if you need to, sweetheart, it’s okay.” He murmured into your hair and held you tighter. 

“Hotch?” Emily, questioned. “What is going on?” 

Aaron swallowed hard, stroking your hair soothingly. 

“Strauss is sending her into the program…” He murmured. “And for once… I agree with Strauss. This is what’s best for her.” 

“The program!?” Spencer exclaimed. “W-what- like witness protection??” 

Aaron nodded. 

All hell broke loose.

He’d been expecting it… he’d known they wouldn’t take it well. Hell they were taking it worse than you were, just like he’d known they would. It was still hard to be patient with them… 

He let them get it all out… 

The surprise, the anger, the fear, the hurt and the sadness. 

But when he told them about the other UC—the dead one—they changed their tune. If the ring was gonna go scorched earth on anyone they were suspicious of… the team couldn’t imagine what the ring would do to you, a woman they knew was a material witness against them. 

Well they didn’t have to imagine, because they knew… so they just tried not to think about it. 

One by one they’d all come to the realization that this was the only safe course of action. 

Even if it wasn’t a sure fire guarantee. 

“You wanted to know what you can do to help.” He reminded them when they all settled down of their own accord. Resigned to the reality of the situation. They all nodded sorrowfully. “Each of you has a skill that I need, to give her the best shot at surviving this until trial. Until it’s safe for us to protect her ourselves.” 

He’d been holding you against his chest the entire time, and you finally looked up at him curiously. 

“Morgan, I want you to put her on the sparring mat. Find every weakness she has and tell her what they are so she can fix them.” He said to Derek who nodded seriously. Then he looked at you. “You write down everything he says and when you get wherever you’re going you find a gym or an mma class and you practice everyday, do you understand me?” 

You nodded at him with wide fearful eyes, and he hated scaring you but he would not let you be vulnerable… you weren’t Haley, you were already capable of defending yourself… but he’d made a mistake in sending her away when she was defenseless on her own. 

He would allow you to go unprepared. 

“Prentiss, you’re gonna teach her everything you can about spotting a tail and losing it. You’re gonna teach her how to disappear.” He instructed Emily.

“Of course…” She murmured, she was biting her nails… she only did that when she was stressed and scared. 

“JJ you’re gonna get her back up identities. Not the one she’ll be using, because we don’t need to know that name… but others… just in case it goes belly up and they find her. So she can get out on her own and call us if she needs help.” He made eye contact with JJ, who was watching him with scrutinizing eyes… she was checking in on him. 

“I’m on it Hotch.” 

“Spencer and Penelope, I need you monitoring chatter. If you pick up anything that sounds remotely like they’ve found her you alert me and the Marshals immediately.” 

They both nodded. 

“What about me Aaron?” Dave asked, and Aaron took a deep breath.

“I need you to remain objective. Keep your focus on the case and not on her… because I can’t… I’m emotionally compromised, and I won’t let this happen again. So I need you to keep things above board, the whole case hinges on her testimony. Every bit of evidence we gather is a step closer to bringing her home. But we have to get it right.” He explained, hoping the urgency he felt was being conveyed. “If we don’t, and they walk, they might target her out of spite.” 

He felt you flinch in his arms and he looked down at you. 

“I won’t let that happen.” He murmured into your hair. 

“When does she leave?” Penelope asked, tears slipping down her cheeks now too. 

“End of day… today.” He answered. “So we have to work fast. It’s nearly eleven, we have until five. Let’s get started.” 

The rest of the day seemed to go by in a blur and the whole time, Aaron couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. 

He watched you spar with Morgan. Helped to spot out your weaknesses and even wrote them down for you. 

He sat with you as Emily lectured you on spotting and losing a tail, he made you take notes and made you promise to study them. 

No one stopped for lunch. 

When Emily was done with you they sat you down because Spencer and Penelope had compiled a power point of every single known member of the ring. Pictures, aliases, identifying marks, and last known addresses. They put it on a flash drive for you to take with you when you left so you could go over it every chance you got. 

After that, he took you down to the shooting range himself. 

He worked with you on your concealed carrying techniques and your draw to fire speed with each carry style. As a federal agent you didn’t need a permit to carry. You just had to pass your weapons qualifications, and you did more than pass. You were nearly perfect. 

Rossi finally made you all pause to eat an early dinner since you’d had no lunch. He’d run home, and he’d made your favorite Italian dish. He even gave you the recipe with specific instructions so you could have it while you were gone. 

JJ had come back just in time for dinner. A manila envelope in hand…

It was thick.

She didn’t give it to you, not yet. You were laughing with Reid and Garcia over something and he could see by the look in her eyes that she did not want to interrupt that moment of peace.

He was sitting right next to you at the round table, but it didn’t feel close enough. 

He tugged your chair a little closer and rested his hand on your thigh. 

One by one the others fell silent, he could see them out of the corner of his eye, elbowing each other and grinning conspiratorially.

He didn’t care, he was too busy absorbing every detail of you… 

“We still want answers about this, by the way…” Emily droned, gesturing between the two of you.

He didn’t bother looking at her, he watched you. 

You blushed bright pink… God you were beautiful. 

“Oh?” You feigned innocence. 

He wasn’t going to hide from them though, this was his family… your family. He may not like their prying, but they did it because they cared. 

“I would think you got more answers than you were looking for last night, Prentiss.” Aaron drawled in return. 

Your face turned beet red at that, and Emily opened her mouth to give a retort, but Garcia beat her to the punch, grinning smugly from ear to ear.

“Really? Then uh, how’s that geriatric cat of hers feeling today? Still pretty energetic?” She asked teasingly, “Or did all the playtime from the last few days wear him out? He’s not as young as he used to be, ya know…” 

“Woah, woah, woah, easy on the geriatric!” Dave protested. “You all are getting a little loose with that word around here.”  

Everyone laughed and Aaron couldn’t help himself. 

“I mean, in cat years he’s only a little over forty, that’s not considered geriatric is it?” He joked.

“Well I’m a little over forty and if I were to get knocked up right now they’d consider it a geriatric pregnancy so it think it’s only fair to label the boys that too.” Prentiss finally got her jab in. 

“Now wait a minute, cut the old fella some slack…” JJ chimed, a sly smirk on her face. “She said he had stamina for his age.” 

Derek finally opened his mouth to chime in but Spencer cleared his throat loudly and nodded toward the bullpen, everyone turned to look. 

Strauss was headed toward the cat walk with two men and a woman Aaron didn’t know. 

He checked his watch. 

Four fifty five… they’d be the marshals then. 

The room went completely still, the silence heavy and thick. 

Then Emily was on your case again.

“WITSEC cannot save you from me, ma’am! You have to come home eventually and when you do…” she waved her fork at you menacingly. “We will be having a discussion about what we heard last night!”

Her attempt to ease the tension—the sadness—in the room did not go unnoticed. 

Sad smiles were offered up around the room, and next to him, Aaron heard you sniffle. 

He was so tired of seeing you cry, knowing there was nothing he could do to make it better. 

So he didn’t look. 

“I love you guys…” You murmured, your voice quiet and strangled. “And I’m gonna miss you all so much.” 

Strauss rapped on the door frame as she stepped inside. 

“I don’t want to interrupt but the Marshals are here, and they already have a placement ready for her. They would like to get on the road as soon as possible.” She announced. 

It seemed like everyone forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Was all Aaron could manage to say. 

She took in the silence, the mood of the room, and–for once–did the right thing. 

“I’ll give you all a moment to say your goodbyes.” She murmured and then turned to you and said, “We’ll wait for you at the elevator.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” You whispered, your voice barely a breath, almost inaudible. 

Strauss nodded and walked out. 

“Did she just… do something mildly considerate?” JJ asked as soon as Strauss was out of ear shot. 

Derek scoffed, Emily groaned and Dave winced. 

“Is that what she was going for?” Spencer asked. 

“You should have seen her this morning when she told us about WITSEC. She was almost motherly.” Aaron joked, just trying to do anything to make you smile 

“Is that what she was going for?” You quipped with a smile, but it was a weak one at best. 

No one really laughed. 

Penelope was the first to move, rushing out of her chair and pulling you out of yours. 

“Come here you!” She murmured as she squeezed you so tightly, that Aaron wasn’t sure you could breathe. 

After that the others all took turns embracing you, squeezing you nearly lifeless. JJ gave you the manila envelope, and told you what was in it.

And then he was the only one left, and he knew the others had made it so on purpose, because they had all embraced you… So could he. 

He took you into his arms and held you tightly to his chest. 

“You are going to be just fine. You’ll be home before you know it and we can have that first date.” He murmured into your hair, sealing the promise with–what he hoped was–an almost imperceptible kiss to the top of your head. 

Your arms around his waist tightened and for several moments neither of you moved. 

He soaked up every second of it, memorizing the way your body felt against his own, the warmth of it, the smell of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest against his own. 

“I’ll write to you, if they’ll let me…” You murmured into his chest, he squeezed you tighter. 

“Only if you send it directly through the Marshals, not the mail.” He warned you. 

“Of course.” You murmured, and then you were pulling away… and as desperately as he wanted to hold onto you for dear life…

He had to let you go. 

“I’ll write to all of you.” You murmured to the team as a whole. “Every week.”

They all nodded, no one seemed inclined to speak. 

“Let me walk you out?” He offered softly. 

But you turned with tears in your eyes and shook your head no. 

“If you walk out there with me I won’t be able to keep it together in front of Strauss, and I won’t be able to make myself get in that car.” You whispered. “I have to go alone.”

“I understand…” He choked out against his own tears. “Go–” 

“Don’t.” You pleaded with him. “Don’t say that, if you don’t say it… it feels less final.”

He nodded, wiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek. 

“I’ll see you soon.” He murmured instead. 

You nodded at that. 

“I’ll see you soon.” You repeated. 

Then you turned and fled the room. 

They watched you go together. He made eye contact with you one final time as the elevator doors slid closed in front of you, blocking you from sight, and carrying you away.

Taglist: @newtomofgods @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @misacc08 @mystargirl-interlude @arhaenyra

[reallybigproblem]

pairing: prince consort mark x queen!reader

warnings: arranged marriage, loss of virginity, breeding

wc: 2.8k

mdni banner by @cafekitsune

Mark has always known what his destiny would be. It would be whatever his parents decided. That’s the duty of being the second son of the King and Queen.

As heir, at least his older brother would be king one day. For all his sacrifice he’ll eventually be rewarded with the most powerful seat in the country.

Being the spare, Mark isn’t so lucky. He’s high up enough to bear all the responsibilities but without enough power to ever have his own say.

The day had now come for the biggest sacrifice he could make. What he knew would always come, marriage.

What he wants doesn’t matter. What matters is how he’d be used best.

This meeting was more of a formality. His parents and your mother have been writing back and forth for weeks. The three of them have made the journey to your kingdom to finalise the details.

Your father, the king, had unexpectedly passed away. Without children of your own, you had to marry quick or risk some unknown male relative claiming they would be better suited for the throne.

You’re not just mourning your father, you’re mourning the future that death has stolen from you. Instead of finding love, starting a family and watching your parents grow old, you now have to walk an unknown path with a stranger.

What you needed was simple. A man who was well bred from a suitable, preferably royal family that would be a great match. But not someone so high up that he’d be a risk to your authority.

Where your mother and advisers are concerned, Mark seems to tick all the boxes. So what more do you need to know?

As the parents discussed dowry and gifts. Mark caught his first proper look at you, his future wife.

You’re beautiful, but stoic. He knows it can’t have been easy for you. Despite everything, his family has always been close. If something happened to his parents today or tomorrow, Mark wouldn’t know how to cope.

That they expect so much of him doesn’t mean that they don’t love him. This wedding is their final ask. The last thing they need Mark to do.

He would be leaving his kingdom behind, to spend the rest of his life with a woman he’s just met. Destined to share a life with a woman he’s yet to share a word with.

Could he really complain? After all, this is what his mother had to do. In a world where women only inherit as a last resort, prince consorts are rare but not unheard of. Being a prince consort is still better than a prince.

The meeting ends with both parties pleased. The wedding would be in a week.

As is custom, you both kept apart in separate quarters in the lead up to the ceremony. Your mother, the dowager queen, was kind enough to show Mark around the castle he would now call home.

He did wonder if he should approach you. But, what would he say? Everything has already been decided. What else is there to talk about? You haven’t approached him, so he assumes you feel the same.

“He seems kind.” Your mother relays to you in your chamber later that evening.

“What does it matter?” You reply.

She comes closer. “I know this is not easy, or fair. But you’re going to need each other.”

Your mother wishes you goodnight and you sit with her words as you fall asleep.

The second time Mark sees you is as he’s waiting at the altar. He’s fiddling with the sleeves of his suit when you arrive.

You’re draped in white. Several ladies in waiting follow behind you, holding a train of lace that’s almost as long as the aisle.

He can spot his parents, your mother and hundreds of lords and ladies whose names he’ll need to learn. His older brother couldn’t attend as someone had to keep watch over the kingdom. It’s just practice for his future.

But now, Mark’s future was about to stand beside him.

His hands shake slightly as he lifts the veil over your head. Today, you’re composed. But he swears there’s a glimmer of hope in your eyes only he can see.

Mark gets so lost in seeing you that it takes him a few seconds to realise the priest is waiting for his reply.

“I do!” The prince blurts out.

You let out a faint giggle. You smile. He promises to never tire at seeing you smile.

For him the rest of the ceremony is a blur. Near the end you seal your matrimony with a chaste kiss. Now, he’s yours.

Everything is happening so quickly, but as short as your first kiss is, Mark can’t help but notice how soft your lips are.

As you leave the altar with his hand in yours, the cathedral echoes with applause. Even amidst all the cheers, Mark can hear your short sigh of relief.

Your reception is the first time you and Mark sit at the head of a table as Queen and Prince Consort. A long line of nobles approached all with gifts and well wishes. His father raised a toast and your mother gave a short speech, both emphasising what this marriage means for your reign and your kingdom.

As most attendees are now focused on the arrival of their meals, Mark finds the courage to attempt to say more than two words to you.

“This food is excellent.” He compliments after a few bites.

“You have my mother to thank.” You explain that you’d left the choice of menu to her. Your response makes him curious.

“Did you get to choose anything for the wedding?” He knows you had no choice over the groom, but surely as the queen you had more input than he did.

“Only my dress.” You admit.

On instinct he knows he shouldn’t, but Mark allows himself to scan at your body.

Your dress is regal. A triumph of sewing and dressmaking that you must have planned for ages. But the more he looks, the more his mind starts to wonder about what’s underneath.

After a few dances, your wedding day draws to a close. You both thank your guests and bid them goodnight and safe journeys home. This includes Mark’s parents the King and Queen, as they’ll probably have started their journey home by the time you awake.

It’s only when they leave the reception hall that Mark realises he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see them again.

Sensing the tinge of anxiety that bubbles to the surface, you covertly offer your new husband your hand. He accepts.

The carriage ride back to the castle that’s now your shared home is silent. It’s the first time this whole day the two of you have been allowed to decompress.

“Can you help me with this?” You offer your back to your new husband, asking him to loosen the corset constricting your torso.

Even though he had kissed you a few hours prior, the idea of loosening a woman’s clothing still makes Mark nervous. He’s having to undo years of being told what not to do to a lady, as he fiddles with the string on your back.

Once you arrive home and a footman opens the door, Mark exits first. He offers his hand to you to keep steady as you come down from the carriage. But when you’re on solid ground, he doesn’t let go.

Looking up at him, you think about how he’s handsome even in the dim moonlight. He was also this handsome waiting for you at the altar. Even when you were wrecked with anxiety and grief at that first meeting, you were still captivated by his features.

Your prince consort takes you and your guards by surprise when he swoops you up in his arms. He carries you up the stairs and through the large oak doors, only putting you down with care once you’re in the building. As fuzzy as his head may be, Mark still remembers every little tradition.

You hesitate, but finally decide on delivering a kiss to his cheek. Then you whisper in his ear. “Come meet me when you’re ready.”

The night was not over. Technically, you needed to do one more thing to be truly married.

The third time Mark sees you, you’re waiting for him in your bed. Your maids have helped you change out of the extravagant gown into a simpler nightgown. It was still white, made mostly of lace and deliberately see through.

You’re sat on the bed holding a down pillow, looking out the window onto the grounds below.

“Come in.” You invite your prince, hearing him knock on the door. Apart from his jacket and shoes, Mark is mostly fully dressed.

Sensing his hesitation, you encourage him to sit next to you, patting the empty side of the mattress.

He obliges. And so the two of you sit, an awkward feeling hanging in the air.

At least you were afforded privacy. Hundreds of years ago a few people would be required to witness this part of your union.

“I take it you’ve done this before?” You state what you think is obvious, but frame it as a question to seem polite.

Mark thinks whether or not he should be honest. Would you be able to tell? But if he’s going to do this, he should do it being truthful.

“…No.”

You make no attempt to hide the befuddled look on your face.

“I mean-“ His voice cracks but he composes himself before continuing. ”I know what to do. But….I thought…if my future wife was going to keep herself for me, then I owe it to her to do the same.”

This is not what you’d expected.

You weren’t completely in the dark. Unlike most ladies who were left to be taught by their new husbands, your parents had done you the rare favour of educating you on ‘the act’. After all, any impolite inconveniences needed to be avoided so you could produce a heir. Of course, you’ve never experienced it first hand.

But this isn’t how its supposed to be. Lords were afforded freedoms ladies risked their heads for. For them, having a lover was a fact of life. Dora you, it meant destroying your virtue.

Yet, the thought of Mark saving himself for you before he even knew who you were, made something stir inside you.

Mark is still trying to read your reaction then he freezes. You start to move, drawing closer, then closing the gap, then mounting him.

Even through layers of formal clothing, as you sit on top of his lap it’s very clear to him this nightgown is the only thing you’re wearing.

A day ago, having him under you like this would be scandalous.

You cup his face in your hands, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. “You’ve at least kissed someone before, right?”

As heavily guarded as you were, you still managed to sneak off with some noble’s son once or twice.

You can feel his face getting awarm, but Mark answers much quicker this time. “Yes. You. This morning.”

The two of you laugh. And somehow it makes this feel easier.

Sitting tall, you inject confidence into your voice. “Well, let me show you what a real kiss is like.”

True to your word, the way your lips press against his this time is nothing like the first kiss you shared this morning. It’s much warmer. Your mouth moves against his with intent.

He’d read about great kisses in novels before but they were nothing like this. Everything about the way your lips and your body move against him feels hungry.

Mark’s body feels like it’s on fire. He feels as though you intend to eat him alive.

The prince happily lets you take the lead. His eyebrows raise instinctively when your tongue begins to explore his mouth, but he tries his best to match your movements.

You think about his restraint. He fully submits but his hands remain by his sides. You wonder if, in time, you could break it.

As you pull away to catch your breath, a single line of saliva still connects your lips. Watching it fall, Mark’s eyes move down to your body for the second time today.

This time, he barely has to imagine what’s underneath your gown. The prince quickly corrects himself, raising his gaze to look only at your face.

This time you notice. You lean in, lips brushing his ear before you speak softly.“You can look at me you know.”

Pulling back, you look Mark in the eye, watching the shock form on his face as you move his hand onto your hip. “You can touch me as well. You are my husband after all.”

When you go in to kiss him again, this time Mark’s hands stay on your body. As you roll your hips you can feel him harden underneath you.

He wonders if he’s done something wrong when you push him away from you to lie down on the bed. But as you start unbuttoning him, Mark sits there stunned.

You kiss his neck, then his collarbone, then his chest, exploring each bit of skin that’s revealed.

After you remove his shirt but hesitate at his trousers. You’d felt it, but seeing his dick straining through the fabric makes this feel more real.

His big brown eyes look at you for approval. When you nod, Mark’s want overpowers his meekness. He shuffles out of his trousers and you’re left gawking rudely when his dick slaps against his stomach.

Feeling emboldened, Mark starts the kiss this time, pulling you back on top then gently moving you underneath him.

As he hovers over you, he’s feeling a need he’s never felt before. You’re as beautiful you were this morning, but this is a type of beauty only he is allowed to see.

The prince shivers at the feeling of brushing against you bare. He opens your legs and you feel the cool air hit your heat. He looks between your legs unabashedly, watching how you glisten.

“Can I?” You both groan when he drags himself through your folds, seeking entry.

“Y-yes.” You look up at him, but sigh.“I know it’s going to hurt though.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, he doesn’t want to cause you any pain. He kisses your cheek, then speaks softly in your ear. “It doesn’t have to, I’ll take it slow.”

You’re equal parts wanting and anxious, but you give your new husband one final nod of approval, choosing to trust him.

With great effort, Mark maintains eye contact as he slips in. While he can control his hips, letting you get used to him, he has no control over the sounds leaving his mouth.

You’re left panting as you take in this foreign feeling. Your fingers grip the linen as you watch the sweat form on his brow.

“Do you want me to move?” He grunts.

“Please.” At this point you’re not sure if it’s a want or a need.

He starts a slow but steady pace, moving in and out of you with ease aided by your slickness. Your hands rush to his back, pulling him in deeper.

Each thrust solidifies the thought of having his children. You don’t just accept it, you crave it.

Mark feels the same. This is his duty now, to make you feel good, to give you the heir that you need.

It takes great effort to keep going, you’re much tighter than his hand. Warm and wet. The sensations and slick sounds are driving him mad.

Once he really takes in how you look underneath him, he can’t help himself, lowering his head to begin mouthing at your breasts.

You cry out, it’s all starting to feel so intense, but you need to chase this high. You want him so bad.

“I’m going to- inside.” Mark groans against your skin. He’s struggling think of full sentences. All he knows is that he’s dangerously close to filling you up.

“Please.” You wrap one leg around his waist, pulling him closer still. “I want it.”

Your words are all he needs to let go. With a low moan he spills his seed inside of you. But he doesn’t halt his movements.

The double assault of him continuing hitting a spot so deep inside of you and the friction of his body moving against your clit with each thrust tips you over the edge.

Through teary eyes, Mark watched your back arch off the bed as the pleasure jolts through you, maintaining his movement despite the overstimulation.

You’re left chanting his name until you’re breathless. He only stops once you bring his head down for one last kiss.

As he slips out to lay beside, the sounds of heavy breathing begin to fill the room as you both come down from your high.

When he looks back at you, Mark realises the mess he’s made of your nightgown.

“Sorry I-“

Holding his hand, you bring his fingers to trace over the hem of your dress. “You should just take it off then”

[lavenderangell]

Thinking of Giving Up?

A lot of people think manifesting is hard. And honestly, in the beginning it is. It feels like you're fighting against everything you've known, believed, and lived through. The thing that made me keep going is this:

I refused to give up.

I refused to live in a world where we're told to accept circumstances that break our hearts. Where we’re expected to just cope with pain, struggle and lack, as if that’s all life has to offer.

I’ve gone back and forth about whether or not I should even share this. I’m a private person, and I’ve never really liked opening up about the hard parts of my life but maybe someone needs to hear this. Maybe there's someone out there on the verge of giving up and this will encourage them to keep going.

For me, it was financial instability. My family struggled with money after my father lost his job. He had to sell his car to make ends meet. I know what it feels like to worry about where your next meal will come from. To feel ashamed and afraid. At one point, my parents hadn’t paid rent in over 6 months. Every single day I woke up thinking, "Is today the day we get evicted?"

And eventually… that day came.

We had to move to a much smaller house and because I'm the oldest, I had to give up having a room of my own. I slept in the living room. Every night, I would lie there surrounded by silence, pretending it didn’t break my heart. There were nights I cried quietly in the dark, wondering if this was all a waste of time. I doubted the law. I doubted myself. I thought, "Maybe this doesn’t work and I’m deluding myself." I felt like I was drowning in hopelessness, watching life go by while I stayed stuck.

Something in me refused to give up. I persisted, it wasn't easy, but giving up meant continuing to live a life that crushed me. It meant accepting defeat and I couldn't do that.

So I kept going. I assumed that my parents were wealthy, even when the fridge was empty. I imagined a better life, even when we were surviving on handouts.

Then, out of nowhere, my mom found out her father had left her a huge area of land. She sold it. The first thing my parents did was pay the money they owed the former landlord. After, they bought 2 cars and invested in real estate. And they still had money left over.

My dad, who had been unemployed for three years, finally got the job he had been hoping for.

We were once evicted.

Now my parents own an apartment complex and they're already planning on buying another.

You can’t convince me that this was just a coincidence.

So I ask you this, with all the love in my heart:

Are you willing to accept what they told you life has to be?

Or will you keep going, even when it’s hard?

Even when it hurts.

Even when your heart is tired and your eyes are heavy from crying. Because the moment you stop accepting less, life stops giving you less.

Accept that you already have what you want and persist.

This girl walked through shadows with tears in her eyes. She cradled hope like a fragile flame, even when the world gave her nothing but cold winds. Manifesting, she realised, was never about chasing. It was about becoming. She remembered the ancient truth that reality is soft clay in her hands, and with each quiet assumption, she shaped a life worthy of the divinity within her. She is no longer waiting. She is creating, endlessly, effortlessly.

......

I was going through my drafts when I saw this post and felt a nudge to share it. If it reaches even one person who needs it right now, then it’s done its job.

[prettyyangelll]

hi!!! i wanted to ask if you could write a fic where its right after spencer gets out of prison and him and reader reunite and theres so much comfort and fluff and just spend all day in bed plus smut🫦🫦🙏🏽🙏🏽

yessss ofc. This took me forever and I’m very sorry but I hope you like it!! have fun my little freaky angels!!!! 🤍

Back Home to you| postprison!spencerreid x reader

summary: 3 months in prison can really change a man, and your not arguing.

Warning: p in v, daddy kink, slight face slap, spitting in mouth, a little bit of oral. SPENCER IS A FREAK, breeding kink, cream pie, different Spencer

You had been waiting for this day to come. Spencer and you have been together for 3 years but you have known each other way longer than that. He was your everything, he didn’t make you feel stupid, he showed you what true love felt like and he never let you down.

When you found out he was going to prison it happened so fast. One minute you were on the phone with him, talking about how dinner was ready on the stove when he got back. Next thing you know, JJ called you to tell you the news. You broke down right then and there.

JJ had practically lived with you. Those long, painfully, and tortuous of three months she was there. You knew he was innocent. JJ had promised you she would do her best to get him out of there. And you believed her. And she did.

The morning of, JJ had stopped by to tell you the news. She said it would be better for you to stay at the house while she went and grabbed him. In her words, “He needs something to feel familiar when he gets back. Something stable”. And you trusted her.

You spent the whole day, cleaning up, making sure everything was the same as you both had left it. Lighted some candles, put clothes out for him to change into, and even backed some of his favorite cookies. You had nervously sat on the couch waiting.

You could barely contain your excitement. You wanted nothing more to jump into his arms and talk about how much you missed him. He was finally back home and you were not going to let him out of your sights for months.

When he walked through the door your heart shot up into your throat. You ran over to him and collapsed in his arms. You didn’t even know that tears were streaming down your face as you took all of him in. You let go and kissed him on the lips. JJ who was standing in the door smiled and wiped the tears that were following down her face and closed the door.

“I missed you so much” You practically sobbed as you held on to him even tighter. His hair had gotten longer, he had a stubble growing and not only that he looked handsome. He still looked like the same boy you fell in love with. But the best of all he still had that same look in his eyes. That you knew he hasn’t changed.

“You don’t understand how much I’ve missed you. I’ve been waiting for the moment forever” Spencer said as he collapsed in your arms. You pulled away and cupped his face. You kissed him hard.

It wasn’t full of lust, it was love. Everything that you couldn’t give him in the last 3 months. You were giving it to him now and there was no way you were going to let him go. Every raw emotion you had you put yourself into that kiss and did not stop. Until you were both out of breath.

“I love you” you said with a smile as you looked into his eyes. You had so much love for him you couldn’t even put it in words. He was here with you right now and that’s all that mattered to you.

“I love you too, sweetheart” Spencer said again as he kissed your lips one more time. You smiled as you pulled away and pulled him into the bedroom.

“I made sure to keep everything the same. Take a shower, I’ll be out here. I can make dinner. Is shrimp pasta still your favorite?” You rambled on as you looked at him. You looked down at you and smiled.

“It’s better than bread and rice” Spencer said as he let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but laugh even though it wasn’t something to laugh about. You were glad he was home. You left the room while he showered and you focused on making dinner.

You put on some soft music and focused on making dinner. You had made this meal numerous of times you had memorized. You couldn’t help but smile when you thought you finally had your man back and that was all you needed.

You were finishing up your pasta when Spencer walked out of your shred room, grey sweats on, white shirt and his hair all wet. He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you while you both slowly swayed to the music that was playing.

“You smell good” You said with a smile as you felt yourself melt into him. His strong arms, and his familiar presence. It almost felt like he had never left and you were happy with that. This is what you needed.

“Yeah? Better than just some generic bar of soap they give you. I feel clean” Spencer said as he gave you a kiss on the neck. You never felt better. It was just like he was coming home from work.

After dinner you two have managed to end up in bed together. Your legs were tangled up into each other, your head was laying on his chest, his arms lightly scratching your arm. The Tv was playing some movie you had both seen hundreds of times but laying in bed was what you needed.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked as you tried to get up. He had grabbed your wrist and sat up with you. You looked at him and smiled.

“I have to pee” you said with a little giggle. You would understand why he was being clingy, but not letting you pee?

“I’ll come with you” Spencer said as he got up and followed you. You couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t weird you both have peed in front of eachother multiple times. But Spencer never chose to go with you.

“Are you gonna protect me from the pee monster?” You asked him as you sat down on the toilet and did your business. He looked down at you with a serious look.

“Just don’t want you far” Spencer said as he looked at you. Your heart melted. You knew this was probably going to happen and you didn’t mind it. He needed to heal in his own way and JJ had talked to you about it.

She said he would probably get more protective or possessive. She said it was nothing to be concerned about and it will lay down in a couple of months. It intrigued you in a way. Spencer wasn’t the clingy or possessive guy. He let you go out with friends and he would occasionally get jealous when a guy stared too hard but most of the time he had trusted you.

When you finished and washed your hands you both went back to the bed and in the same spot. It had been a couple of hours. You didn’t ask him about prison because you knew it was a topic that wasn’t supposed to be brought up yet. You knew he would tell you when you’re ready. But he wanted to ask about you.

“How much did you use your vibrator while I was gone?” Spencer asked as he looked at you. You gagged, you weren’t ready for that type of question not yet.

“Spencer!” You said as you lightly pushed him. “I don’t know, maybe like 2 times a week” You said as you shrugged your shoulders. You and Spencer were never shy with sex toys and even used them.

Spencer would go on work cases and you both established it was okay to use sex toys while the other was gone. But you guys agreed if one another was there that there was no need for sex toys. Which you were perfectly fine with that.

“You think of me?” Spencer asked as he climbed on top of you and started to kiss and suck on your neck. You let out a small moan as he sucked on your sweet spot right below your ear. You put your hands in his hair pulling and tugging.

“Of course I did. Who else?” You asked with a small laugh. Spencer didn’t like that response and bite your neck gently. Spencer wasn’t the one to bite and suck. It was a type of vanilla sex. This was different.

“You’re mine” Spencer said as he wrapped his hand around your throat to push up your neck so he could have more room to abuse and bruise it. “I’ve been waiting for this. 3 months can really make you mind wonder” Spencer said inbetween kisses. You couldn’t help but feel your panties get wetter.

“Spence…feels good” you moaned as you spread your legs apart. He moved between your legs and set his knee right on your clit. You shuddered as you felt your hips move on their own.

“Yeah? I’ve missed those sounds. Your sweet whines and whimpers. I’m gonna make you sound like that all night long” Spencer said as he grabbed on your body. Gripping your tits and squeezing. He looked up at you and smiled. That smile that made you want to come undone right there.

“Please” you begged, you didn’t even know what you were begging for you just wanted it. You wanted to feel him inside of you, making you feel good, cumming around him like he never left.

“Please what baby?” He asked you, as he listed up your shirt and kissed your stomach. He tugged on your shorts to pull them off. You lifted your hips up and let Spencer take your shorts off, he threw them somewhere in your dimly lit room.

“Please fuck me” you said, those words you had been waiting to say for months and now Spencer didn’t have to hold back anymore. You sat up and took your shirt off. You were left in your bra and panties and Spencer didn’t take his time.

“Normally, I’d take my time with you…but I can’t. I need you know” Spencer said as he helped you unclip your bra and his hands groped your bare tits. You whined as you brought your hands up to his hair.

“ Spence please” you whined, you needed him and you didn’t want to be teased anymore. You guys had the rest of your life to tease and take your time with eachother.

“I love hearing you beg. Lift your hips” Spencer said as he hooked his finger under your panties and pulled them off. You were left with nothing else on. You were completely bare and open. Waiting for him. “Fuck your so wet for me” he said as he spread your legs open.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your clit. You moaned as your hands reached down to his hair and pulled ever so slightly. You could feel him smile against your wet cunt as he contuined to kiss down your cunt with ease.

“Spence please fuck me” you whined, you loved his tongue but you needed more. You needed your tiny hole stuffed with his cock. You missed his cock. His big fat cock that hit you g spot right away. If he laid you on your stomach and put a pillow under it you could feel him entering your guts.

“Only cause you asked so nicely” he said as he sat up infront of you and took his shirt off. He pulled down his past and you could see how hard he was through his boxers. You whined at the thought. You could feel your cunt hey even more wet at the thought of him entering you.

He pulled his cock out of his boxers already dripping with pre cum, he spit on his hand and started to stroke his cock. He wasn’t just big, he was long. You would think boys like him, tall lengthy and nerdy didn’t carry around a big cock like that. Before him you weren’t used to guys with big cocks.

It was usually you needed to go to the bathroom after hook ups to make yourself cum. That was your life. You never had a guy go down on you for hours because he wanted too. But that was Spencer. Spencer made sure you cummed right before he did.

Spencer wanted no time sticking the tip of his cock in you. You whined at the sudden stretch. You didn’t even bother to finger yourself. You wanted to be tight and un used so when Spencer got back he could ruin you like he did for the very first time. He slowly fucked his cock in you inch by inch until you were completely full.

“You’re so fucking right baby, I’m gonna ruin this cunt” Spencer said as he put his head into your neck as he started to slowly thrust himself into you. You whined as you felt him all the way in your tummy.

“Feel so good!” You moaned as you dug your nails into his back. He picked up his pace contuing to damage your cunt with his cock. He lifted your ankles on top of his shoulders to get deeper into you.

“Yeah baby? You like when daddy comes home and fucks your pussy like he hasn’t in years” he asked you as he got close to your face. You looked up at him and nodded. You were so dumb and turned on you were turned into mush. He slapped you across your face, not to hard but not to light either. Enough to make you moan and suck on the stinging pain. “You use your words when daddy talks to you” he said as he pounded into your gummy walls.

“Yes daddy, feels so good” you whined as you racked your nails down his back. You were in complete bliss. Spencer was shy in bed, asked for permission first and the most he would do is slightly choke you from time to time but this was different. He had never referred to himself as daddy and you loved it.

“Yeah baby? Open your mouth” Spencer commanded you. He didn’t have to tell you twice before you opened you mouth and watched him spit in it. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his spit and stuck your tongue out for him. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl baby” Spencer said as he assaulted your neck once again.

It didn’t take you longer to reach your orgasm. The way he was talking to you, not having sex inforever and the way he was pounding into you was all too much. And it didn’t help when he started to rub figure 8s with his thumb on your clit. He went faster when he felt you clench around his cock.

“Gonna cum daddy!” You whimpered out as you felt your climax come faster and faster. You were in complete ecstasy and you had never felt better.

“Yeah? Cum around daddy’s cock baby” he said as he kissed the side of your jaw. That didn’t stop you once before you felt the knot in your haunch explode as you painted his cock with your cum. “Daddy’s gonna breed this pretty pussy” Spencer said a she quickened his pace and thrusted into you even harder.

“Daddy cum in me!” You whined as you ran your fingers through his hair. That’s all he needed. Your whines and your tight cunt to wrap around him and he was already close to cumming inside of your gummy walls.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming” Spencer said with a slight moan as he rode out his climax before he collapsed in your arms. You had both stayed there for a minute before letting go.

You hadn’t felt that good ever. Whatever the fuck Spencer went through in prison changed him. And you were slightly scared but you loved it even more.

“Was it to much?” Spencer asked as he looked up at you before slowly taking him out of you. You smiled as him as you put your hair behind your ear.

“No. It was amazing” you said as some crashes down beside you. You snuggled closer into him as you leaned your head on his chest. “What changed?” You asked as you looked up at him.

“Before I went to prison, I read one of your books you had. It was lying around the house and I wanted to know what you were reading. And turns out you read a lot…of interesting topics. And I wanted to try it with you” he said. You felt the heat in your cheeks rise as you covered your face.

“Your lucky I love you” you mumbled, you felt him kiss the top of your head and say the same words back to you.

[revelboo]

Rev please notice me I have been asking this for ages

I want a senior of bayverse jazz with reader who they have a daughter with which reader has to raise alone since he died 💔

Like a wolf children deal? Physical pregancy mention/angst. I prefer not to write this sort of thing/scenario, so y’all please don’t ask for these

What If Scenario-Everything Stays

Bayverse Jazz x Reader

• “Shhh, I know,” you whisper, adjusting her weight against your hip as she warbles, clearing her vents with little rasps. Crouching and pushing under the flap in the chainlink fence, you wince as the jagged edges scratch your cheek when you shield her with your body. Heart racing, you keep moving away from the base, the thermos of stolen energon sloshing and banging into your knees. “You’re being so good.” Glancing down at her wide optics staring up at you, you force a smile. Like this is all a game, sneaking into the hangar and stealing what she needs to survive. Too scared to let anyone know about her existence.

• Afraid they’d take her from you. Feel her little servos clinging to you as you take a moment to adjust the blanket you’d wrapped her in. Hiding her features as you head back to the low rent apartment you’d found after everything had fallen apart. Unable to make yourself leave the city where you’d lost your world even though you know it’s dangerous here. That NEST is likely looking for you, that the Autobots might be, too. Shifting her against yourself as her peds kick, you hurry up the old stairs and let yourself in your apartment, taking a moment to rip the notice stuck to your door down. And she warbles, mouth opening on a cry that makes you wince. “I know.”

• Easing her down on the bed, you watch her head wobble, peds kicking, but she’s not figured out how to crawl yet. Have no idea if that’s normal or if something’s wrong. Maybe you’re not feeding her enough. Maybe you’re going to fail her no matter what because she’s not human. Finding a clean bottle and a funnel, you pour some energon in, your shaking fingers making it difficult. Settling on the bed, you pull her into your lap and she fumbles at the bottle, drinking hungrily. “We’re okay,” you whisper, helping her hold the bottle, your other hand supporting her head. And you brush a finger against the barely formed audial fins on her developing helm. Like her dad’s. Like Jazz. Some nights you hate him for leaving you. Hate you ever met him, fell for him. Loved him.

• Weren’t supposed to have to do this alone. Humming brokenly to her as she finishes her bottle and clears her vents with a rasping cough to spatter your hand with energon, you rock her. Slowly lying down on the bed on your side with her cradled against you. “You look like him,” you whisper, thumb sliding against her helm as she stares at you, chirping nonsense and clumsily grabbing your fingers. Curling around her, forehead against her helm, you hum a lullaby. Wanting to sleep, because that’s the only time the world isn’t wrong. She’s the only thing that’s okay in your life, that’s right. That isn’t broken.

• Maybe it’s the vestiges of the bond. Maybe you’re losing your mind, but he’s there when you dream. Always there waiting for you when you close your eyes. How many times have you screamed at him. Raged. He’d sworn he wouldn’t leave you. That the bond tied you together for life and death, but you’d been carrying her when he’d died and you’d somehow survived. Had felt that moment, that loss crippling you, bringing you to your knees. Had just known he was gone. Hand cupping her head as she warbles, you feel tears sliding over your cheeks, dampening the hair at your temples as you shake. “We’re okay,” you whisper over and over as she grabs at your shirt and wails, beginning to cry because you’re crying. Need help, but you’re so scared. All the time. If the Autobots knew about her, they might help. Or they might take her away from you. Can’t risk it. Just want to sleep. To dream about him and not worry about that eviction notice or your next move.

[nottinmyheart]

༺𝑶𝒇𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔༻

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑜 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑡 (𝐵𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑠𝑓) 𝒙 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝑅𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒)

𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙. 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔．

𝐴𝑠𝑘 𝑖𝑓 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡．

1.8𝑘 words

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This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to fall head over heels for a boy in your 6th year, let alone your brother’s broody best friend!

The plan for this year was simple; study, occasionally party, and prepare yourself to ace exams. Then, Theodore Nott was brought into the mix. You didn’t even know how it came to be this predicament, you hadn’t even payed him any attention the whole 6 years of knowing of his existence.

Of course you acknowledged Theo and his fairly good looks, who couldn’t, he literally had nearly the whole female population of the school fawning over his every move. But you weren’t like that! At least that’s what you previously believed.

To you, Theo had always just been another one of Matteo’s decently good looking friends, and that was it. Simple. But now.. all that clouded your mind was that handsome flirt known as Theodore Nott.

You guessed it must have started when Pansy and Blaize began dating. Although you and your brother were both in your respective friend groups, when the two love birds started dating, your friend groups began to merge. And along with that came Theo.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that was until you began catching him occasionally with his eyes locked onto your figure, or the way he only seemed to tune into the conversation when your voice chimed in.

Of course this could all have just been random, little coincidences but you weren’t too sure and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t really want them to be?

So this was the situation you were in and where you stood in trying to explain your insane theories to your best friend.

“I don’t know Pans maybe I actually am delusional! But if I’m delusional that means that I must actually want it to be true! Oh Pansy please help me here!”

Your so called best friend couldn’t help but find the situation you were in somewhat amusing and she didn’t do her best at trying to hide it either.

“Calm down Y/n, you’re spiralling!” She warned, but it was quickly followed by a -not so well hidden- chorus of giggles.

“I’m sorry, really I am sorry!” She continued trying her best to regain her composure, “but I just can’t believe you fancy Theodore Nott! Your brother’s best friend!” She didn’t even attempt to conceal her giggles this time as she burst out laughing.

“It’s seriously not funny Pans!” You pleaded with her.“What if Matteo catches on, he would kill me for liking one of his friends! Especially his best friend!” You truly were spiralling now, but the whole situation you were currently in just baffled you completely. How have you managed to find yourself crushing on the notorious Theodore Nott?

“Okay, okay.” Pansy continued in an attempt to compose herself once more after her previous outburst.

“So you think Theo may perchance like you, and you definitely like him-“

“Pans! How is this helping?” You interrupted becoming increasingly embarrassed by the conversation at hand.

“Listen okay, there’s only one way to handle this.” You looked at her puzzled and clueless.

“You need to tempt him!” As soon as the words left her mouth you glared at her disapprovingly, this was not the help you were looking for and you knew that Matteo would be more than pissed if he discovered the plan she was hatching up.

“Pans no way in hell am I doing that! Do you realise I’m trying to de escalate the crush here!” You visibly grimaced at the use of the word ‘crush’, it made you feel like you were once again in first year writing love notes to boys who were probably more interested in becoming quidditch champions. To be fair, not much has actually changed between those 5 years and now with the male population’s priority’s.

“Look babes you can’t ignore love! Plus you and Theo would actually be such a cute couple.” This comment made your face quickly heat up and you felt redness creep up your neck once again.

“Whatever Pans, we need to get to breakfast.” You said in an attempt to deflect her previous comments.

And off the two of you went.

Once you arrived, you were immediately met with the greetings of both yours and your brothers friends, as due to the recent events of your best friend and her relationship status, her and Blaize were practically joint at the hip.

Deep down you kind of wished you had that connection with someone, maybe a particular someone. You soon realised your mind had began to drift and pushed those thoughts away while searching for a seat at the table.

To your utter horror, the only remaining seat was placed next to Theodore and you could barely even call it a seat, there was space for you to squish in ,maybe, but that would be extremely awkward.

As you were about to try and negotiate a seat with Pansy, a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Come sit then Y/n. You look terribly lost there.” It was Theodore. And he was patting the space next to him without a care in the world, his signature smirk plastered onto his face. Oh how you had managed to fall for that smirk.

You guessed he could see the hesitance as you noticed a mischievous glint cross his eyes. This wasn’t going to go well.

You knew there was no way out of it and surely it couldn’t be that bad sitting pressed up against him. You weren’t even convincing yourself at this point and just decided to try and get it over and done with.

Slowly descending to meet Theodore’s level, you locked eyes and you could have sworn there was something there, but it was quickly masked with a look of indifference.

This wouldn’t be too bad after all then you thought.

Oh how you were wrong.

As soon as you got somewhat comfortable between Lorenzo and Theodore, you felt a firm grip on your thigh. The gesture was so small and hidden that nobody else seemed to notice. But the heat flowing through your body and raising to you face must have given something away.

“Are you alright there, Y/n?” Enzo asked nudging you from the side. You could feel Theodore’s eyes on you and that just made it that much harder to respond to Enzo’s worries.

“Fine!” You managed to squeak out. Once you realised this made you seem even more not fine, you managed to form a coherent sentence.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking, Lorenzo.” Feeling satisfied with you answer, he seemed to ease and responded with a quick answer.

“Awh, call me Enzo, love.” The nickname caught you slightly off guard and it must have done the same for Theodore as you felt his grip on your leg tighten ever so slightly. Theodore opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by your brother entering the room.

You wondered what Theo was about to respond with but the thought only lingered for a brief amount of time before you realised that Matteo, your dear brother, had managed to squeeze onto the bench right across from you and he could see right through any lie you tried to splutter out. Lucky for you, he was too distracted by Enzo’s ‘obvious flirtations’ directed your way.

“Who are you calling love?” He bit at the boy sat next to you, “because it better not be my sister.” Matteo had always been protective of you but he was just as clear that you should never make advances on any of his friends, especially due to all their reputations with relationships. This rule hadn’t been a problem until now.

You sat there silently surveying the confrontation when you heard Theo clear his throat from beside you. “Calm down there, Matt. She is her own person you know.” This was apparently not the right response and only seemed to anger your irritable brother further.

“Oh my apologies, I just don’t want my dumbass friends fucking my little sister.” Matteo replied with an incredulous look smothered across his face. “I’m not your little sister!” Which was completely true, you were twins and although the difference was only a few minutes, it could well be a few years with the way your brother treated you.

“You have no control over me or who I choose to fuck.” This statement gained you an audible gasp from all your friends and anyone else who was nosy enough to be listening in.

You could feel the vibration of Theo’s chuckle against your whole body and, oh, when did you become so addicted to that sound.

“What the fuck are you laughing at!” Matteo was now beyond pissed.

“Chill dude just let her do her own thing, it’s not like any of us would purposely fuck her over anyways.” The thought of Theo thinking about being in a relationship with you caused butterflies to form in the pit of your stomach mixed with the warmth of the fact he was standing up for you.

You swore Matteo was on the verge of combusting by the way he glared daggers into the boy sat beside you. “Yeah, and none of you will get a fucking chance to either!” He spat out like just the thought of it was paining him.

In an attempt to defuse the situation you spoke once more. “Okay, okay Matt we get it. You can calm down now, it’s far too early in the morning for this.”

He seemed to find that response somewhat acceptable and began descending into other conversations about quidditch strategies with Blaize, who was sat beside him. Glancing their way, you witnessed Pansy give you a devilish grin and a not so secretive wink.

Halfway through breakfast, Theo was yet to make conversation with you, although his hand still stayed firmly resting on your thigh. Pansy, the ever so nosy person she is, seemed to notice this and started conversation with you from over the table.

“So Y/n, have you thought about that date Cedric asked you out on yet?”

“What date?” Both Matteo and Theo questioned in concerned unison. Usually, you’d expect Matt to get suspicious of Theo for how quickly he responded but, luckily for Theo, he seemed too involved with the date Pansy had so helpfully brought up.

In all honesty, you were actually planning on declining the hufflepuffs invitation, but on further thought, and Pansy in mind, you decided maybe you should go. Ignoring the stares from the boys surrounding you, you answered your best friend with a firm “Yes, actually, I think I’ll go.”

Pansy’s grin grew wide while everyone else around you seemed to have the opposite reaction, but for once you didn’t care. Until you felt Theo release his grip on you and begin to stand. “Theodore, where are you going?” You sounded pathetic as you looked at him with pleading eyes but he seemed as if he couldn’t bare to look at you. “I’m going to lesson early” he grumbled but before you could question him further, he was gone.

Maybe this wouldn’t be such a good idea.

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𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡:

[peoplesprincess111]

jealous amore? | T.N

a theodore nott one-shot

Warnings: smut +18 mdni, oral (fem receiver) Synopsis: You are at Theo´s house for the summer vacation, but the sudden visit of his friends makes you a little jealous. Author's note: I really like this one, I hope you do too!

I was invited by Theo to spend summer vacation at his house, well, his mansion. All four years we have been dating, his family has always been lovely. Since the day I met them, I fell part of the family and they gave me unconditional support, a fact I could not be more grateful for. But this time, Theo´s parents went on a little cute trip on their own, so we were left alone until the doorbell rang.

“I´m coming!” I yelled at my boyfriend since he was taking a shower. When I reached the door and opened it, the whole Slytherin friend group was there. I stood in shock, I didn´t know they were invited… “Hey!” they all said at the same time.

Don´t get me wrong, I loved them. As Theo´s family, they´ve always treated me so nicely and actually acted sometimes as if they were my friends. But it annoyed me the fact that Theodore hasn´t told me anything about this.

“So where´s Theo?” Blaise asked me. “Uumm… he´s showering, I don´t think he´ll take longer.” And as soon as I finished speaking, a freshly showered Theo came down the stairs with the biggest smile on his face. I knew the last time they have all been together was at the beginning of summer when they met at the Diagon Alley, at the beginning of summer, so it was obvious that he was going to be excited to see his friends.

Theo went up the whole group, saying hi and fist bumping with each one of them, accompanied by a “wassup”. When he finished, he told them to put their things in their rooms and to meet in the kitchen around half an hour later.

I turned around and said to him, “Why didn´t you tell me your friends were coming?” “I´m sorry, amore, I forgot. You know my parents won´t be around these next days, and since I haven´t seen them in a long time, I thought it was a good idea to invite them over. I hope it doesn´t bother you.” And he stared at my eyes, looking for an answer to his question whether I did or did not care. The boys didn´t bother me, so I shook my head, even tho I really was hoping to spend some days alone with my boyfriend.

The days went by, and I barely spent time alone with Theo. The boys and he made various plans: playing Quidditch, card games, talking about “boy topics”... And even tho they tried to integrate me, I just kept feeling awkward. So I moved to plan B: spend time by myself.

During those days, I discovered hidden places in the mansion, and I walked through the beautiful gardens. But mostly, I read, I read so much. I´ve always known that Mrs.Nott was a huge reading fan, and because of that, she had the biggest library I´ve ever seen. Entire walls clad in high bookshelves filled with books that you could only reach with a staircase. Theo´s mother always let me read and spend as much time as I wanted inside her dear library, so I took advantage of it.

Just another day, I found myself climbing one of those staircases, hunting for my next read. Suddenly, a voice behind me caused me to jump. “Cara mia, what are you doing here alone?” I turned just so I could look at him, standing behind me, but I turned back to my task. “I didn´t want to bother, so I came here looking for my next read. It´s also cooler than outside.” “Amore, you are never a bother.”

I finally turned completely around, finding him at the foot of the staircase wearing his grey sweatpants and a loose white shirt. The simple outfit, somehow, made him look so damn hot. “We all know I have no place in your group, so even though I really do appreciate your sympathy, I don't want to be a hanger-on,” I said as I went down some steps.

When our eyes were at the same, even tho I wasn’t on the ground yet, he gently grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me. “I missed you so much these days, I felt you so distant,” Theo said, breaking the kiss. “It was actually your fault since you preferred spending time with the boys instead of me,” I said, sounding a little annoyed, even though we both knew it was just my jealousy showing up.

“Oh, principessa, don´t be jealous of the boys,” he said mischievously and kissed me again, more passionately this time. Both of his hands met each other at the back of my head, intertwining his fingers with my hair and pulling me closer. His kisses slowly started to go down my neck.

I didn´t say a word as I drowned myself in the feeling os his lips. His hands slowly went down to my waist, where he gripped and pinched a little, making me gasp as I threw my head backwards. 

My hands, which were on his shoulders, went down to his ass, where I gave a firm grip, making him groan at the sudden feeling. But not long after, I felt him make the same movement as mine did, making me moan quietly, arching my back. Theo pulled his lips back to mine. “Amore, please let me make up for these days.” “Shit… Please, Theo…”

Immediately afterwards, he lowered himself until he was at the same height as my wet and sore core. In Sumer, due to the heat, I enjoyed wearing skirts and dresses, which Theo appreciated at this moment. He just had to lift it a little to be under it and start pulling my underwear to the side as he kissed my inner thigh.

I managed to reach his head under my skirt, so I grabbed the back of his head and pulled it closer to me. “Calmati,” he whispered in Italian. It was then that I felt his fingers spread my folds and started sucking on my sensitive bud. Stimulating all possible areas, I felt two of his fingers tease my entrance and curve once they were inside of me. “Fuck Theo, please!” I moaned, trying to pull him closer by pulling my head backwards.

Theo´s mouth was capable of making me touch the fucking stars. Adding the fingers was equivalent to reaching the goddamn angels. But taking into account that we haven´t had an intimate moment like this in days, I swore to be hugging God himself.

I looked down, and even though I couldn´t see him eating me out, just by imagining it, it turned me on even more. Also, I could see his hand reach his crotch, trying to calm his big erection. Not a word came out of my mouth; I just found it so attractive that he was eating me out, and it got him so worked up.

The familiar knot was starting to get tighter as I knew I was close to cumming, and as if Theo knew, knowing my body better than I did, he fastened the rhythm. I moaned at the faster pace. He already has three fingers doing magic inside of me as his tongue sucked on my clit indescribably. He moaned into me, sending vibrations all over my body.

It didn´t take long for me to finally cum all over his digits. Licking his fingers, he came out from under my skirts, with flushed cheeks, messy hair, and half of his face wet because of me giving me a seductive smirk; I swore I could cum again.

He stood up and gave me a kiss, which I thought would be a soft and gentle “post-sex” kiss, but I couldn´t be more wrong. He cheekily slipped his tongue into my mouth, pulling my hair backwards, making me gasp and look at him. “I´ll never get tired of eating you out. But you owe me one, you weren´t the only needy one these days.”

Yey yey yey new os! Hope you enjoy <3

[newtonsheffield]

I keep forgetting that in one of your universes a shyer anthony is like… literally gonna be the King of England 💀 how long do you think it took them to get married after their announcement as companions? We cant forget Edwina, the hard core scandalous heart throb spare that they really REALLY can’t let become queen, so i assume they get to baby makin right away

I honestly don’t think it’s very rushed between them. I think for one, Anthony’s focused on his health and rehab for his shoulder, adjusting to his new life. Also, he kind of… wants to give Kate almost every opportunity to back out. He feels a little strange proposing to… you know the crown princess of England. And he knows that Kate allowing the palace to announce their relationship is a signal of her intentions. Her taking him to all of those events with her and making sure their pictures are taken together, is a signal for her intentions. But he still just… wants to give her time to be sure. He’s sure that there’s no one else for him, he wants her to be sure as well. So Anthony really doesn’t propose until Kate’s hints, let alone her mother’s, her sister’s, and the fucking king’s hints, get really obvious.

For Kate it’s pretty subtle to begin with, she’s sighing loudly looking at pictures of brides in magazines and engagement rings.

Mary has chosen a very similar tactic, talking about weddings she’s attended this past season when she and Anthony have morning tea while Kate and Tharman are having their little meetings. It gets to the point where Josie sidles close to Anthony.

“Do you think she’s hinting that I should propose?”

Mary sighed, “I wasn’t, Darling, no. Not you.”

Edwina’s never been known to be a subtle person. She just turns to Anthony one afternoon and kicks at him.

“Oi!”

“Edwina!” Anthony reeled backwards.

“Oh, that’s your bad arm you didn’t even feel it.”

“Doesn’t mean you can kick me does it?”

Edwina shrugged, “Have you not proposed yet?”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “I think you know I haven’t.”

“Anthony, Buddy, you need to lock that shit down.”

“That shit being your sister?” Anthony asked dryly. “She could always ask me if she wants to get married. I think she’s technically supposed to, representing the crown and all.”

Edwina tutted irritatedly, “Yeah, but she wants you to do it. Because it would feel romantic. And what the fuck are you worried about?! There’s no way she’s going to say no.”

Tharman surprises everyone by being the bluntest of them all. Tutting one day when he puts his glass down. “Are you going to ask my baby to marry you or not?! Just ask me for my permission!”

“I-“

“I could have you killed, you know.”

“For not proposing to Kate?”

“Yes!”

[lovelessdivine]

too sweet. [chance x reader]

SFW Chance x Reader oneshot - Coffee Shop/Bakery AU for AUgust 2025.

Brief alcohol mention. 2.1k words. Crossposted on my ao3.

You were laid off from Valdivian on your first day… Because of an Artificial Intelligence system. If that wasn't some sort of sign from the universe, you don't know what was. It's been a week since your awful first day on the job, and it hasn't gotten any better. You had put in multiple job applications: and the only thing you heard back was more reject emails.

You sat on your couch, cheeks freshly wet with tears, as you downed another vodka seltzer. Today was that interview for a remote customer service job - and they just told you they'll reach back out in two weeks. You were starting to lose hope. Before you could reach for another can in the 18 pack at your feet, you door opens and shuts. In comes Sam - your best friend, who was also the only person that held a key to your home - and she looks at you from the hallway to where you were on the couch. She approaches you, taking a seat beside you on the couch.

Sam knew about how your first day at Valdivian went, considering she was the first person you texted as one of the upper management and a security guard escorted you from your cubicle to the front doors. You had returned some of her texts and calls, but you haven't let her known how your interview went today. She must have been worried of your radio silence if she came all the way here to see you.

"How did today go?" Sam asks the dreaded question. You sigh, feeling your eyes bubble up with more tears.

"They just said, 'We'll reach back out in two weeks.'" You tearfully impersonated the hiring manager, your fingers making quotation marks as you did. Sam lets her hand rest on your shoulder.

"Well hey, it's something, right?" She responds, looking away from you for a few moments. The air is quiet, and you sighed at her comment. Sam wasn't wrong - and she squeezes your shoulder before she speaks again.

"So.. I might have gotten you a job." Her voice was somewhat hesitant.

You look at her incredulously. She continues, her eyes finally meeting yours.

"You remember that one coffee shop downtown, the one with the bakery? It's right next to that game shop you like," She continues, "The owner's name is Kopi. She's been looking around for someone full-time. And when I mentioned you have a BFA in Customer Service and used to work for a bakery, her eyes lit up. She really wants to talk to you about it."

And that's how it started. Lady Luck must have smiled on you, because your whole life had turned around. You went in the next day, dressed your best, and Kopi had offered you a job. Here you are, four weeks into your new job, and you loved it. Coming in early to help bake pastries and muffins, roll out croissant dough, and fry donuts brought out something in you. You had a passing fancy for baking, and even worked in a couple of bakeries in college - you just never thought you would have been able to do it as a full-time job you actually enjoyed.

Even in the short month on the job, you had solidified yourself with your coworkers: Kopi was grateful for your help, especially when you came in overnight one night after a power outage to ensure no product was lost. Dasha often helped you bake in the mornings, and she always made you smile and blush with her talk of finding you a date. Your face and ears would often burn, and you would concentrate more on the pile of dough on the floured prep table as she laughs at your bashfulness. Holly was one of your coworkers - she was happy and jolly as can be, always ready to help, and she knew just about all the regulars by name. She often told you in passing as the two of you prepared their drinks and fished out the occasional donut or pastry from the pastry case.

Penelope, the Valdivian intern that often made coffee runs every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings for her coworkers at the big corporate office two blocks from the coffee shop. The woman - often frazzled, but tipped extremely well - would talk nervously about work and how this was going to be her season to find love.

Jerry came in every morning at 9:15 AM sharp. He was a local museum curator for downtown Coolsville, often happy to excitedly chatter about the new museum exhibits as you made his rather simple order: an almond milk cappuccino to go. Mateo often followed behind him, a friendly face that often chatted with you about the dog shelter north of the coffee shop and his latest foster. You often sent him with a free pup cup with his coffee.

But your favorite regular came from the game shop beside the coffee shop. Chance - your favorite customer, which Dasha knew about to your dismay - often used the upstairs of the shop to host several ongoing G&G sessions when he wasn't working downstairs. He would usually grab drinks and baked goods from the shop before the sessions for his players. What didn't help the situation was the fact you knew Chance in passing, and that the two of you had met in the most cliche way possible.

You had popped over to the game shop after work one day just to check things out. It's been an extremely long time since you've been inside, so you were excited to see how it was looking nowadays. What made you even more ecstatic was that, upon stepping inside, you realized the game shop actually had a fully dedicated area for G&G now. You had made a beeline to that corner of the shop, looking at the various guidebooks with a small smile on your face. It had been years since you touched G&G, but you kept your lucky d20 on your desk at home. You had picked up a guidebook for the latest edition of the game, flipping through it, and decided maybe it was worth the risk of spending money to buy it. After all, it would look perfect in your home office, among all the other guidebooks you've collected.

You turned around to leave, walking towards the counter, until you encountered a warm wall. You didn't fall, thankfully; since you steadied yourself on the nearest table, your two feet kept firmly planted on the ground. Needless to say, the newest figures for that one game, displayed neatly on the table, had gone everywhere. Once you opened your eyes, you realized that warm wall you bumped into wasn't a wall at all: but the broad chest of a worker - Chance, his nametag read. The both of you were saying apologies to one another, and you were squatting down to help pick up the figures with him.

"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to!" Your voice was small as you placed down the guidebook to pick up boxes. You didn't even dare to look up from where you were on the floor.

"No, you're fine - I bumped into you. I'm sorry." Chance had responded, starting to reorganize the figures back onto the table, merchandising them in a way you didn't quite understand.

You were still on your knees as you handed him the last boxed figure, finally able to meet his eye. This time, he extended his hand to you to help you up. You gripped his hand and he pulled you up to your feet, before he leaned down to grab the G&G guidebook that you left on the ground. His eyebrows subtly raised, and he was seemingly interested in your purchase.

"Oh, you like G&G too?" He asked as he handed you the guidebook, with you looking down at the cover again. Your ears were still burning from the incident, and you gave him a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, I.. really do. It's just been a while since I played, and I didn't mean to knock down a whole display to get it." You responded. Chance chuckled, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"It's fine, really - it's not the worse these things have seen anyways." He was referring to the table of figures you just knocked over. You let out a small chuckle, feeling a little better - though, you found yourself putting the guidebook back after your mishap.

And ever since that day, you hadn't gone back into the shop. Once you had recounted the story to Dasha the next morning, half-asleep and painstakingly rolling and layering croissant dough, Dasha had playfully chastised you for not making a move in the moment. It sounds like your past stories of your love life must have gotten her worried, or Dasha was just a hopeless romantic. You preferred the latter.

You were working the front of the house today, making various drinks for the morning rush. It was around 8:30 in the morning, meaning someone from the game shop would be in soon with their order. Parker, Connie, and Chance normally rotated who got the drinks for that week in the mornings. You feel like it was supposed to be Connie this week, and relaxed - until the bell chime alerted you to the fact Chance just walked in.

The coffee shop was oddly empty, mainly because of the rain outside. Chance had approached the counter and his smile got a little wider once he saw you. Despite the incident at the game shop, the two of you would still talk whenever he came in to order - just with the safety of having a whole counter in between you two.

"Good morning, traveler," He greeted you, the silly nicknames were a thing between you two. You started getting to-go cups out and writing names on them.

"Good morning to you too, dear Chronicler," You had finished scribbling on the cups, glancing at him, "The usual?"

"Yeah, just add an espresso shot to mine." You paused briefly at his request.

"Bold." You commented, and you heard his half-asleep chuckle.

"The session went longer than usual, what can I say?" Chance responded, glancing over at the pastry case as you got the drinks made. He usually got half a dozen donuts for the morning shift, sometimes a few chocolate-filled croissants.

You got the four drinks made and tucked into a drink carrier for him. You had walked over to the pastry case, opened it up, and started to pack him some donuts and croissants into a box for him.

"Oh, an extra croissant, please - you can keep it out." He requested, and you complied, tucking the lone croissant into some parchment paper. You brought it all over to where he was standing, scooting it in front of him as you punched in some numbers into the tablet Kopi set up for payments.

"Twenty-one twenty-five." You turned the tablet around for him to use.

He uses the card reader to insert his card, tapping through a couple of payment prompts on the tablet.

"You know, I have an extra spot open for a G&G session. If you want to play, that is." He proposed to you, looking up from the tablet. Your eyes widen in surprise briefly, but you weren't too taken aback by the proposal.

"Wait, really? You want me to play with you?" You asked him, and Chance nods.

"Of course! It would be a lot of fun to have you."

"Even if I'm practically a beginner?"

"The group is open to beginners. We're all an inclusive bunch."

Chance had a good point - and it didn't help that you wanted to get to know him better, too. You smile, handing him his receipt.

"So.. When is it?" You asked.

"Session zero is this Saturday at 2." You two lock eyes momentarily.

You were off Saturdays. You lean against the counter.

"I'll be there. It's next store, right?"

"Yep! I'll be around an hour before to set some things up, if you wanted to stop in early." He reached for the drink carrier. You push the box of pastries and donuts towards him, but he picks the top croissant with his free hand and holds it out towards you.

"You didn't." You reach your hands out to take the parchment covered pastry from him regardless.

"Yeah, I did. It's yours." You almost miss his wink, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

Red-faced, you take the croissant from him. He laughs, grabbing the box from you. He turns around to leave the coffee shop, and you watch him intently as he leaves. You know the exact moment his eyes scan the to-go cups as he walks pass the windows outside, because his expression morphs into one of surprise.

On his cup is your phone number, with a scribbled 'Call me' next to it.