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cutehoons02 · 18 days ago

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See you on the podium, sweetie!

*pairing: Lee Heeseung F1 Ferrari driver x PR

*trope: only one bed-bad boy Heeseung?

*driver: Lee Heeseung=Charles Leclcer

*synopsis: Being the PR of Ferrari has always been one of your biggest dreams but you would never have expected to find yourself working with Lee Heeseung, the representation of the driver that no sports PR would want to have: flirts with all the girls, is always paparazzato to parties around the world from MonteCarlo to Bali, breaks the heart of his fans miliary both because it is really beautiful and knows that he is but also for his aura untouchable because he is the chosen in house Ferrari. But there is a secret that is coming more and more to the surface, he can't sleep peacefully for months now both because of the countless haters he has in social media but also because he doesn't win a race for almost 6 months and from a driver Ferrari everyone expects more from him. What if the PR of Ferrari was the only one to calm him and put him to sleep? a shared bed, various hotels to travel around the world, beautiful tracks and countless podiums to win...

*tags: A lot of tension,fluffy, pervy Heeseung, a lot of humor, teasing, kissing, sucking, shower sex, unprotected sex (don't horny people) minor don't interect + 18, fingering, pubblic scenes,masturbation, pet names (sweetie, PR,good girl) (Hee) jealousy, possesion

11.4k (🌹)

Heeseung has just stepped out of his red-hot car, his eyes are tired but full of determination and while he takes off his helmet he sees his companions or "friends" on the podium while they spray rivers of Champagne and take a thousand photos for various social content with their trophies. He is trying to hide his frustration after another disappointing race by coming in P4, while reporters surround him when he enters the post-race space of the reporters. You were always flawless in your role as PR, and you make your way through the crowd with a firm step, a smile that hides a veil of sarcasm. As soon as Heeseung sees you, he smiles and looks up at you with his hair ruffled by sweat and helmet, trying to keep his "womanizer" attitude under control.

«Here’s my favorite PR, you’re always by my side, Y/n. I was wondering if this time you would cheer for me, or if I would see you clapping your hands for your little friend Jake or whatever for Jay» He said, leaning towards you as you were going to get in line to answer the questions of an Italian journalist.

"You don’t look like someone who needs my support, if you want I’ll show you how many girls cheer you up on ig sending you pictures at the osè. Rather, it seems you need a miracle both for how you drive and for your appearance. But don’t worry, I’m good at fixing things...at least those that aren’t about your ego." Heeseung smiled maliciously leaned on a slab leaned his head and looked at you with a defiant expression

«Ah, my ego. I didn’t think you liked it so much. Or maybe it’s just that you’re afraid I’ll win, so you should stay up like 24 hours a day to check every social or your mailbox if you find some pictures of me with not only my prize but also with girls and I do some shit?»

You took a step closer and looked him straight in the eye

"I don’t care to be in the middle of the action, Heeseung. I’m interested in you winning, finally, and bring a little joy to this team that works its ass every weekend. But the miracle you’re referring to is becoming more difficult. You are tired, aren’t you?"

«I’m not tired, Y/n. Just frustrated. I want to win for Ferrari, you know. But... it’s not easy.» closed his eyes for a moment because he was tired and could not wait to lie down on the plane.

«It’s not easy... when things don’t go as they should.»

You sighed and looked at him, he looked like a helpless puppy put in a cage of lions who would eat him and did not help the thick dark circles under his eyes.

"I know. But the pressure won’t help you run faster. Neither will your ego. Maybe you should just take a break... and maybe sleep a little since you haven’t slept more than 8 hours?"

Hee looked up at the sky and with an ironic smile said to you

«Yes, because sleep is the solution to all my problems, right? It’s not like I’ve been trying to sleep for the last couple of months... I tried natural herbal pills, medicines, anti-stress pillows, hypnosis, sleeping with Jungwon, sleeping in the motorhome, and other shit»

sighs and shakes his head

«But, of course, you keep giving me advice and making fun of me. I’m sure that another 'everything is fine, surely this evening you will be able to sleep' on your part will do me miracles.»

"I never made fun of you Heeseung and you know better than me that I’m worried about you. But since you’re so stubborn, maybe you should stop being a superhero and accept that even champions need a shoulder to lean on. You’re human too, Heeseung and sooner or later you’ll find a solution to your insomnia problem and you need to sleep at least a couple of hours even on the shoulder of a random person."

«So, are you suggesting that I fall asleep on your shoulder, Y/n? Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to be touched by anyone, would you grant me such an honor?» he looked at you amused as you raised your eyes.

"You’re a lost cause, Heeseung was a way of saying what I told you to sleep on someone’s shoulder. But don’t worry, if you want to fall asleep on my shoulder later in the plane, go ahead"

Heeseung looked at you amused and raised his hands in surrender

«Okay, okay, I give up. Let’s do it then. But if I can finally sleep, I’ll buy you a ticket for a concert of those Korean bands that you listen to.»

You opened your mouth slightly surprised by how much she knew about you and smiled but in a genuine way.

"Let’s give it all Heeseung, there is nothing to lose!"

The plane is almost empty, with a few team members sitting in the back of the cabin, some chatting, others resting. You were sitting by the window, immersed in reading a romance book that they were all talking about on #Booktok. The soft light of the plane illuminated the pages and your face was focused, as if you were living every word of history. Heeseung was sitting across the row and bored himself to death. He needed a distraction, so he got up and stood by you and took a sneak peek at the book.

«So, Y/n.. another of your love novels? I hope Prince Charming comes soon to save you because otherwise, you will find yourself at 50 years old still fantasizing in your house in the countryside full of cats»

"Are you always so sarcastic, Heeseung? Better to stay in a house full of super cute and cuddly cats than having a person like you in the house! You better not have your ego ever come up to the level of one of these books' protagonists, or you will never find your white horse or sword fighting to save your princess." You said without lifting your eyes from the book but with a funny smile

Heeseung made a gesture of stabbing his heart and looked at you with a grin.

«But come on, Y/n! Let’s be clear. Do you think that the Prince Charming of these books is really what happens in a relationship? With broken hearts and promises of eternal love? Please, what you read is practically unreal in this society»

You finally raised your eyes, raising an eyebrow and looking at him badly.

"I guess you’re more realistic. Instead of waiting for the prince charming, maybe you should accept that you are not invincible. And a Ferrari is not enough to change who you are, I know that inside you hide a boy with a thousand fears and that it could be the "prince charming" for at least one girl out there if you open your eyes and behave like a normal guy and not a womanizer." You said, touching slightly the part of his heart covered by a wide sweatshirt

Heeseung laughed, shaking his head and staring at you

«I wouldn’t say that I’m a 'prince charming' type, but at least I’m a driver. And with my talent when I have the high-performance car I’ll be the king of the track and maybe of history. There is no white horse, only racing tires and a roaring engine.»

You were slightly amused by his answer and returned with your eyes on your book.

"Ah, well, everyone has their way of feeling like a hero, but this year there is another hero on the track and that’s not you but Sunghoon with his Red Bull. But you can still think it’s all that easy if it makes you feel better."

Heeseung slightly leans to see the title of the book and looks for it on the internet and starts laughing reading that is a sport-romance about a hockey player and a kind of singer and the trope is "Enemis to lovers and Tutoring". While he was reading he felt his eyes getting tired and he hands his face and is jealous to see you so alert and focused even after countless hours of work.

«I will pretend not to have read the plot Y/ n, meanwhile I comment that it will be another book where the boy is perfect and has 0 weak points and represents perfection»

"If you think I’m looking for perfection, then you don’t know me at all, Heeseung."

With a fun air, moves a little closer to you, trying to peek better at the pages and have the opportunity to observe you.

«So what are you doing with these books, Y/n? It seems that you are waiting for your 'knight' but you know better than me that he does not exist in real life»

You looked at him for a moment, amused but also a little annoyed by his insistence. He moved even closer and kept on making jokes until you closed the book and looked at it with defiance.

"You’re unbearable, Heeseung. I read these books to escape from reality and find some peace and to have some laughs for what happens in these super romantic books but someone named Lee Heeseung does not leave me alone"

Heeseung raises his hands in surrender, but he can’t help laughing. After another minute of silence, he realizes that you had put on headphones and you were leaning with your eyes closed at the window and his expression softens, although it still does a little cynical fake.

«Okay, okay, enough with the jokes. Just... you’re right. I’m tired, and maybe I’m talking in vain. But seriously... a little rest would not hurt me.»

You felt his sincerity hidden under his facade, you can not help but shake your head.

"It was just a joke, Heeseung. I know you don’t like the idea of admitting that you need a break. But if you want to sleep, maybe you should get comfortable, instead of being condescending with me. Try to close your eyes and relax a little we have almost 3 hours more flight"

Heeseung, who has never liked to admit that he is vulnerable, tries to appear uninterested. But, after a few more minutes of tension, without thinking too much, it lets go and leans on your shoulder inspiring your sweet scent but at the same time floral.

Heeseung sighed, almost whispering.

«All right, all right... I give up. I don’t expect miracles... but maybe a little sleep.»

You were not completely surprised by that gesture but you looked at it for a moment and you said nothing. It’s more of a spontaneous gesture from Heeseung, who finally seems to admit he needs some peace.

After 10 minutes you were listening to Taylor Swift and chanting it in your head until you felt a slight breath next to your neck and opened your eyes and watched Heeseung sleeping, who breathed with a relaxed breath and even his face seemed relaxed rather looked completely abandoned to his sleep. You looked at him incredulously and a small smile formed on your face, and at that point, Jungwon, his teammate who had seen the whole scene from the other side of the plane, came up with a look of pure surprise.

<< Can’t believe it... really. This is a miracle, maybe we found the right cure or person for Heeseung. We were all completely stupid or unaware you were always here with us>

You looked slightly at Jungwon and I did no with my head

"I didn’t do anything he's just tired, Jungwon"

Jungwon shakes his head, watching Heeseung sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks, and looks at you with a grin.

Heeseung wakes up slowly after 3 hours, stretching with a slight groaning. He slept like he hadn’t done in weeks, but as he moved he felt a discomfort around his neck. He sits better in the seat and looks down...only to realize that his arm is wrapped around your waist. Even worse, her head is practically resting on your breast.

It freezes and the eyes open. His mind runs fast, trying to figure out how to make up for it and how he got to sleep leaning on you for hours. The image of him, sleeping in that position, seems compromising: He, the "great flirt", now transformed into a puppy that clings to you as if you were his pillow.

«Oh, my...sorry! I don’t know how... I didn’t mean to... I mean, it wasn’t intentional!» pulling out the arm with an unnatural speed

you had been motionless not to wake him up and you looked at him with a mixture of irritation and disbelief.

"It’s not like you can use people as a human pillow, Heeseung. I hope you slept well at least because I... don’t."

Hee looks at you with fawning eyes, a little embarrassed but sincerely sorry.

«I swear, I didn’t notice! It’s... well, you were comfortable and I hadn’t slept like this for an eternity...»

Before he can say anything else, the sound of a giggle interrupts him. Jungwon, sitting a short distance away, turned with a funny expression and a smartphone in his hand. It’s not hard to guess that he was watching the scene for a while.

<< Well, good to know. The solution to your sleep problems was not complicated Hee: you only need Y/n next to yourself as a human pillow!>> With a mischievous smirk looked at you and Heeseung

You gave Jungwon a look that could burn up a Ferrari engine, but he doesn’t seem to be the least bit intimidated. On the contrary, he turns completely towards you by placing his chin on a seat, ready to continue teasing.

"Don’t put yourself in it. It’s enough to put up with him, let alone you."

He raised his hands in surrender but with a glaring

<< Hey, come on Y/n, it was just a joke. But seriously, look how he’s been born again! I haven’t seen him this calm in months. Maybe your problem is already gone, Y/n is a kind of sleep talisman."

Heeseung, still red in the face, tries to answer but he gets stuck, clearly in trouble. He doesn’t know how to react: on the one hand, he would like to continue to be a bad boy, on the other hand, he feels like a child who has been caught in the act.

«Stop it Jungwon. It’s not like that! It’s not my fault I fell asleep and Y/n was just... there.»

<< Ah, sure. 'Just there.' So much 'just there' that you were wrapped like a koala around her. >> he said with a clever smirk

You were unaware of the situation and got up from your seat with a strong gesture, the book under your arm. She’s tired of both and ready to leave that embarrassing scene behind.

"Fantastic. You are a dream team I understand why everyone says that you are made for each other as a duo in Ferrari. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to prepare myself mentally for a new race weekend, who knows what dramas will come out." You said looking at Heeseung in particular

Jungwon turned to Heeseung and spoke

<< You know, I think Y/n could really be your medicine. Or at least, your antidote against insomnia. >

«But stop... It’s not like that. It was comfortable. And then maybe you’re right. I don’t know how, but I slept well."

Jungwon takes another photo with his phone, this time of Heeseung who seems thoughtful, and shakes his head laughing.

<< I don’t know, Hyung. I think Y/n is your good luck pillow. Maybe we should patent it as part of the team>>

«Come on, Jungwon. Let’s get off and stop taking pictures before Y/n finds you and destroys you.»

As they head for the exit, Heeseung is surprisingly in a good mood, despite the embarrassment. He would never admit it openly, but for the first time in a long time, he feels rested and even a little happier.

Montreal GP (Canada)

The afternoon light is perfect. The clear sky reflects on the calm water of the river, creating a dreamy backdrop for the Prada photo shoot. Heeseung and Jungwon, dressed in elegant suits and luxury shoes, pose with a surprising naturalness for two F1 drivers.

You were there as always on the go: setting up contracts, managing fans huddled behind the barriers, and overseeing every detail to ensure everything went smoothly. But as you turn, you notice Heeseung with an absent-minded look, sitting on a chair between one shot and another. The fatigue is on his face as the makeup artist approaches him with a flirtatious smile. Gently, he fixes his hair, then bends slightly to attract his attention.

'Looking forward to seeing you on the track, Heeseung. You’ll be great as always. Maybe you could bring me a special pass?'

Heeseung looks up, but can’t even pretend to smile. He puts his hand on his face, sighing.

«Yes, sure... thank you. But first I have to sleep at least five hours in a row without waking up if I want to be great on the circuit.»

The makeup artist, surprised, laughs nervously, thinking she is joking.

Well, then stop going out and about! That’s why you’re so tired, right?'

At those words, Heeseung slightly straightened up on the chair and looked at her with a serious expression, almost exasperated and a little annoyed because he wanted to be remembered as a Ferrari champion not as an obsessive from the parties.

«I haven’t been to a party in weeks. The last time I saw a club, they were still playing songs from last year. My problem is not dancing too much... it’s that even when I’m still, I can’t turn off my brain.»

The makeup artist seems to not know how to respond, and she quickly moves away, a little embarrassed.

On the other side of the set, Jungwon, who witnessed the scene, burst into a low-pitched laugh. You were engaged with a contract, lift your eyes in time to see Heeseung lean tired on the chair.

<< Hyung, I can’t believe it. You were so rough on her! You’d usually be the first to flirt with me, but I know your charm is slowly disappearing. >>

«Ah, yes? Flirting? Not even the way that word is written, Jungwon. I’m too tired to even think about it.» He said, standing with his hair and slapping himself on the face to wake up,

Jungwon keeps laughing but the joking tone fades when he sees how exhausted his teammate is. You approach him by observing.

"Heeseung, maybe you should take a day off after this shoot. It wouldn’t help anyone to see you collapse on the track Sunday, I’ll cut you off at a small event in Montreal"

«Thank you, Y/n. But every time I try to rest, it seems to me to waste time. As if I was wasting an opportunity to improve, I could train or I know how to watch the telemetry of the machine but the problem is that I am exhausted.»

You crossed your arms, looking at him with an expression that is halfway between reproach and understanding.

"You’re not wasting anything if you take care of yourself. And for the record, you look more dead than alive. Even the products and make-up artists of Prada cannot cover certain dark circles."

Jungwon laughs again, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

<< Y/n is right. Maybe you should seriously ask for a set of Prada pillows made extra-sized for you, maybe those help you sleep better. >

Heeseung giggles slightly, shaking his head. Despite the fatigue, he is grateful for the presence of the two. He would never admit it openly, but Jungwon’s irony and Y/n’s concern help him to keep his feet on the ground.

Heeseung stands up and stretches and looks at you.

«Don’t worry, I’ll sleep. Sooner or later and when I’m well rested before I beat all the competition on the track and then I’ll go to celebrate, Y/ n is for a while that there are no dramas about me or gossip!»

The free practice had gone surprisingly well. Heeseung had found a good pace, the team was satisfied, and even the journalists seemed less insistent. However, as he walked in the paddock towards the Ferrari camper, he looked like a rag. The dark circles were deeper than ever, and his movements showed how tired he was.

In the living room of the camper, Jay and Sunghoon were waiting for him and both had noticed that something was wrong, but they also knew that Heeseung hated to admit his weaknesses.

'Hey, Hyung. I got to show you something. Maybe I’ll give you some advice on how to be Pole tomorrow.' said Jay smiling with a grin

"I hope it’s a new race strategy because everything else is a blur."

Jay hands him the phone, showing a photo taken by Jungwon. In the image, Heeseung sleeps soundly with his head resting on your shoulder, his arm around your waist, while you look completely stiff and visibly uncomfortable.

'Look at this. The real winning strategy: it’s the human cushion. Maybe we should add it to the race plan for Sunday.'

Sunghoon, sitting a short distance away, bends forward to look at the picture better, bursting with laughter.

<< Oh my God, Hyung, you’re like a baby who can’t sleep without his favorite blanket! >>

"It’s not what it looks like! It was just... boh, a coincidence. I was tired and she was there."

'Sure? Because you don’t look so random in this picture. You look rather... comfortable.'

Sunghoon with a clever smile

<< Maybe you should do a scientific experiment. You know, to see if it’s your antidote. But to do it right, you should sleep with it. And I mean really sleep, not do the usual things you do with girls>>

Heeseung looks at him with an expression between amused and disoriented.

"You two are impossible. And no, it won’t happen. It’s Y/n, okay? She hates me enough without me asking her that."

But later that night, as he looked at the clock at 10:30 p.m., something stuck in his head. He really needed to sleep, and against all logic, he couldn’t get out of his mind the possibility that you could help him in some absurd way.

With a sigh and against his "values", he stood up and headed for the door of your room. Knocked twice, then leaned on the doorframe with his usual flirtatious grin, trying to look casual despite the heart beating hard and opened the door, crossing his arms and looking at him suspiciously

"What do you want, Heeseung? It’s late. Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?"

Hee bowed his head, a Playboy smile.

«I was thinking... maybe you want to keep me company. You know, let’s talk, read one of those romance books or something.»

You stared at him, raising an eyebrow. You know that tone and smile, and you usually can’t stand it but there’s something different in his eyes: there’s no usual security, and under that mask, he looks really tired and vulnerable.

"Heeseung, spit the toad. Why are you really here? I don’t think to talk about books."

«Okay, okay. You’re right. I just... can’t sleep, and the last time, on the plane, I slept so well. And I thought maybe...» he looked down, scratching his neck.

"...that sleeping next to me might help you again. I understand?"

«More or less. But don’t get me wrong! Nothing else, only of course if you also do not want to try something as beautiful as me. But this evening I just want to sleep. I swear.»

You would want to kick him out because you can’t stand him but at the same time he seems hurt if he came to you, one of the few people who stood up to him and that you didn’t fall into his flirtations. You sighed and opened the door to let him in.

"God, what am I doing wrong to deserve to see it 24 hours a day? If I agree, promise not to snore and not invade my side of the bed. If I catch you touching me"

Heeseung raised his hands in surrender and smiled at you

«Promised. I’ll be more discreet than a cat»

"If I regret this decision, I swear you will never see a contract signed by me again."

Heeseung smiles as he enters the room, but this time it’s a genuine smile, lifted. Maybe for once, she will let herself be helped.

You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, with a seemingly endless collection of bottles and creams arranged neatly on the shelf. The Weeknd resonates in the background from your phone, filling the environment with the sensual notes of "Earned It".

On the other side of the room, Heeseung was leaning against the bathroom door, watching you with a funny curiosity. He’s not sure what he’s looking at: the complex skincare routine or you with only a slightly wide shirt and short shorts that made him go crazy.

«Are you sure you want the ticket for that Korean band of K-pop? Can I give you all this, god how much money are you spending on skincare, are you sure that everything you’re putting on your face is not... excessive?»

You raised an eyebrow while gently smearing a cream on your face

"Heeseung, if you could understand something more than soap and shampoo, maybe you wouldn’t have the skin of a 12-year-old under stress. These steps are necessary."

«Don’t overdo it. My skin is perfect as it is. But, tell me, is this all for me? Are you trying to impress me or is it for your future prince charming?»

You puff silently but can’t help but giggle as you grab another bottle.

"For you? Don’t make me laugh. I do it for myself and when I’m old I won’t need to get my face punctured. Although maybe you could learn something instead of standing there humming The Weeknd like a teenager in love."

Heeseung pretends to be offended, taking a hand to his heart.

«First of all, The Weeknd is also one of my favorite artists. Second, I’m not humming... I’m singing with passion.»

With a mischievous smile, he begins to hum the refrain of "Earned It", emphasizing the words with an overly intense look towards you:

«Cause, girl, you’re perfect... You’re always worth it... » Isn’t this a perfect song for both of us? You know, with your obsession for perfection and my natural charm?"

You stopped for a moment, staring at him with an expression that was somewhere in between fun and disbelief.

"Maybe you mean it’s a song about how hard it is to win someone’s favor? Yeah, maybe he’s in. But trust me, you’re not exactly the romantic protagonist he describes."

Heeseung laughs and leans over the sink next to you, staring at you as you put on eye cream with extreme precision.

«You know, if I were your romantic protagonist, I would be much more convincing than those perfect guys that you read in your books, I could make you feel the same things they make their "loved ones" feel but in a real way. And you wouldn’t need all these creams, I would make you shine naturally!»

You stared at him with an exasperated expression, but you could not help blushing slightly.

"Can you stop flirting for five minutes? Amazingly, you can find the energy to say this nonsense even when you seem on the verge of collapse."

Heeseung chuckles, raising his hands in surrender.

«All right, all right. But I know that underneath you like this whole Y/n thing, and you’d be super bored working with people like Jay or Sunghoon, right?»

You didn’t answer, just turning off the bathroom light and heading for bed. And he still follows you smiling.

As you lie down, with Heeseung visibly calmer but also a little stiff, you observe him from the underside.

"Why do you seem so uncomfortable? Has anyone ever asked you to just sleep with someone or do you always chase them away before trying to sleep?"

Heeseung moves slightly, staring at the ceiling. It’s hard for him to admit things, but you don’t let him out.

«It’s not exactly... what I’m used to.»

You can’t help laughing, covering your mouth with a hand so as not to wake up any neighbors.

"Relax, Heeseung. I won’t jump on you. You can relax for once in your life."

He turns to look at you, with an expression between the amused and the mortified.

«Thank you for the reassurance. Not that I was afraid! , you would rather sleep with a wolf than with me knowing you, Y/n»

"No, of course. You’re not afraid of anything. Except maybe to admit that sometimes you need someone."

That phrase leaves him speechless for a moment. But as he closes his eyes and finally lets go, he realizes that Y/n may be right.

The morning light was filtering through the window, illuminating the hotel room. You had been awake for a few minutes, but it hadn’t moved yet. You were held back by a strange feeling. Perhaps it was the weight of Heeseung’s arm that, while sleeping blessed beside you had moved too close to your breast.

You sighed, trying not to think too much. You simply had to move it without waking him, that’s all, and gently took his wrist, but at that moment Heeseung moved.

Instead of walking away, he murmured something incomprehensible and pulled you even closer to him, as if you were his personal stuffed animal. His hand, meanwhile, slipped under your shirt caressing the skin of your side in a distracted way, until its fingers reached your back, gently touching your spine.

You felt a shiver all over your body. It was a completely unexpected feeling and not to happen especially with Lee Heeseung.

"I can’t believe it. This is a nightmare. "

He, meanwhile, was sleeping soundly, with a puppy-like expression completely unaware that his head was resting close to your neck, the messy hair touching your skin and tickling you. You tried to move a little bit more but the grip tightened slightly and you held your breath. Heeseung moved slightly, his face sinking a little deeper into his neck.

«Where do you think you’re going?» He murmured in a husky voice, still soaked with sleep.

You felt a shiver running down your back. "I didn’t want to wake you," you whispered in a neutral tone.

He chuckled softly, a low laugh that vibrated against your skin. «Don’t worry... I wouldn’t wake up for anything in the world if it wasn’t for you.»

You looked up because even in the early morning he was flirting and there was always that usual pinch of mischief in his voice. Before you could answer, you felt his hand slip under your shirt, so slowly that it seemed studied.

"What are you doing?" you asked, trying to keep his cool.

He caressed your side uncovered, the touch light but enough to make you feel the skin burning. «I’m thanking my miracle cure» he replied. «I haven’t slept so well in months... and you made it all possible.»

You stiffened, but you did nothing to stop him. You felt Heeseung’s hand move gently as if he were trying to memorize every line of your body. The warmth of his fingers was almost hypnotic, and for a moment you let go, closing your eyes.

«You know, you should relax more often» he continued, his voice soft and sweet. «You are not like the others... And I like this.»

"Don’t be stupid, Heeseung, they’re not like those perfect models you hang out with. And anyway, I don’t like physical contact, so..."

Before you could finish the sentence you felt his slightly calloused fingers touch a cape and unintentionally you raised your back and he lifted his head, his dark eyes staring at you with an unexpected seriousness. «Don’t say nonsense», he slowly lifted your old pajama shirt and began to kiss you from the navel with light kisses until they reached your breast with one hand he squeezed it slightly and then laid his lips and started to tease you; he would lick it, slightly nibble it and hold it for you «You are beautiful, Y/n. More than you can imagine. And I don’t want you to get paranoid about these things, do we understand?» you nodded your head and Heeseung kept leaving little kisses all over your body and with his big hands he held one side of you and the other always a tit

You looked down, trying to hide the blush that was coloring your cheeks. "Heeseung..."

«Shhh» interrupted you, placing a finger on your lips. «I’m not flirting. Not this time, god this breast is made for my big hands and I want to make you feel like my dick is already hard just because of you, Y/n.»

You look uncertain, But there was something in his expression that made him soften and he laid slightly above you with a quick movement he rubbed his length into your pussy still covered by some short shorts and succinus misery was hard, and for those few seconds. You heard it could have been imagined that it was also great. "Look, if you want to thank me, do it by winning on Sunday, okay?"

He laughed softly, a laugh that seemed to dispel all tension. «All right, boss, but if I win I want something in return» You saw how he looked at your whole body and after a while stood up and winked at you before leaving.

Heeseung, who has just left his P2 qualification, heads to the interview area with contagious energy, ready to do his usual show. He’s smiling, charming, and was terribly annoying to you.

You were a few steps away from him, with your phone in hand, recording every word to avoid misunderstandings or fractions that could turn into tabloid headlines. But as Heeseung was getting in front of the cameras you knew he wanted to make a show.

The first journalist hands him the microphone, smiling.

Journalist 1 :

"Heeseung, you missed the pole by a few tenths. Do you think the race step will be enough to turn things around tomorrow?"

Heeseung :

'Sure, tomorrow I’ll give it all. But if you want to know my strategy in detail... I promise that I’ll explain it to you, as long as it brings me luck.'

The emphasis on the word "luck" is accompanied by a wink that makes half of the room laugh. You snort loudly, attracting the attention of one of the press officers who looks at her confused.

With the second journalist, however, Heeseung is at his best.

Journalist 2 :

"Tomorrow will be a tough race. Sunghoon seems to have an advantage, but do you think it will be a duel between the two of you?"

Heeseung :

(with a mischievous smile)

'My duel is always with Sunghoon, but you know what? If I had you by my side at the wall box, I would win without problems.'

You put down the phone with an incredulous expression, mumbling.

"Eight hours of sleep and he’s already turned into the usual serial flirter. I should have kept him awake."

When Heeseung comes back to you, visibly satisfied with himself you stare at him.

"Congratulations on the qualification, Casanova. But if you don’t win tomorrow, I swear I’ll take that microphone and make you eat it."

«Calm Y/n, you should be as refreshed as you were this morning with me! It was just to keep the atmosphere light, in this place they are all so boring and obsessive with the coldness of Sunghoon."

You slapped him lightly and pursed his keys.

"Relax, of course. Too bad I have to answer your fans in delirium on Twitter.»

You were a bundle of nerves sitting in the Ferrari box watching the race of Heeseung. From the start, Sunghoon had taken the lead, taking full advantage of the straight speed of his Red Bull but Heeseung, however, kept calm, studying every corner of the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve, known for its technical braking and the famous "esse" of the Casino.

The decisive moment came in the last ten laps, when a small collision caused two cars to come out and the Virtual Safety Car came out that allowed Heeseung to switch to softer and fresher tires. Upon returning to the track Hee flew with his red fire car and showed all his power and agility, bend after bend began to gnaw the advantage of Sunghoon.

With three laps to go, the overtaking reached the final chicane just before the Champions Wall. With a breakaway at the limit, Heeseung joined Sunghoon and, despite fierce resistance, took the lead in the race with an impeccable trajectory.

Crossing the finish line in first position, you had tears in your eyes because it was 6 months since you did not win and the whole team hugged you and you ran under the podium.

On the podium, his smile was brighter than the sun reflecting on the gold trophy. He sprayed champagne with a contagious energy, wetting Sunghoon, who laughed defeated, and Jungwon, who occupied the third step. You watched from the edge of the track, crossing your arms but with a smug smile.

"He’s finally back to win, at least now he’ll stop tormenting me for how much he missed winning." You muttered in a low voice

When the celebrations on the podium ended, the group headed towards the river near the circuit, a special tradition to celebrate Canadian Grand Prix victories. The crowd of fans had already gathered along the banks, shouting and cheering as the drivers and team approached the water.

Heeseung was euphoric, almost in a trance. With a sure gesture, he unlaced the top of the pilot’s suit, letting it fall on his hips and with a fluid movement, he also took off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and toned muscles under the sunlight.

The crowd exploded in shouts and applause, as dozens of phones took photos and recorded videos.

You stopped suddenly when Hee took off her shirt and your eyes were fixed on the slightly tanned skin but especially in his toning muscles that covered all of his toned body.

"Oh. My God. Really? Did he have to take off his shirt? Wasn’t the Playboy smile and the Greek statue body enough? This is ridiculous, tomorrow there will be all the social media invaded by him." you said in a low voice not making you heard from anyone.

You tried to look away, but your eyes inevitably returned to follow every movement of Heeseung. The sun was shining on his skin, and the champagne drops from the podium were still visible. He ran his hand through his hair, wet and messy, before approaching the edge of the river.

Heeseung turned to you with a provocative smile, having noticed your eyes following him before he jumped into the river and yelled at you.

«Y/n! What are you doing there all serious? You’re not judging me, are you? Come on, admit it, this physique is not bad, right?»

"I’m not judging you. I’m just trying to figure out if you have a social media contract, since every move you make ends on the net!"

Heeseung gets up, diving into the water with a spectacular dive. When he emerged, he passed his hands over his face and hair, casting another amused look, and winked at you.

When he got back to the small wooden pier he came close to you who had a light towel and looked at you with a smile that would have made thousands of his fans crazy but it was only for you at that moment and with a little laugh she undid her head and small drops of water mixed with champagne they flooded your body and a slight redness took possession of your cheeks and you thought:

"This guy will drive me crazy. And not in the professional sense of the term."

«So? Have you seen something that you like?»

"Yes. Your suit, which for some reason you’re not wearing. Do you want a tip? Get back to putting it on, before someone makes an awkward photo montage."

Heeseung laughed

«You’re too stiff, Y/n. Should you relax a little bit by maybe taking a bath... with me?»

You pointed your finger at his still-wet chest.

"Keep it up, Heeseung, and you’ll see that the next bathroom is with the whole PR team, but to save yourself from trouble."

«All right, all right! Only because today you were my medicine even off the track.»

When you returned to the hotel, you promised yourself to ignore him for the rest of the day. But as he walked before you, you could not help but take one last look at his carved back.

"There is no hope. This guy is a continuous temptation the red devil."

It was Saturday night and you were finally enjoying some relaxation at home, away from the chaos of paddocks, interviews, and especially Heeseung. You had dinner with your friends and after weeks of going through the circuits, you felt like a normal person for a moment. But, of course, your phone decided to remind you who you really were: the PR of the most problematic (and irresistible) driver of the moment.

While your friends were laughing at another joke you saw the phone screen light up with the name you feared most: "Heeseung".

With a heavy sigh, you already know that you would never spend a quiet evening.

"What do you want, Hee?"

On the other end of the line, Heeseung seemed agitated, almost desperate and there was music in the background.

'Y/n! Thank goodness you answered. Look, I went out with Jake and Jay at the Twiga, just to relax a bit, nothing like that... but a paparazzo caught me with a glass of wine while talking to a fan.'

You closed your eyes, holding back an exasperated groaning

So? Where’s the problem, Heeseung? It’s not the first time you've ended up in these situations, by now people know that you have lived off the track and that you go to have fun and I doubt it will be the last.'

'Y/n, it’s not like it seems, and don’t get mad! I was just having a chat, I swear. The fan came over, asked me for a picture, and then he said something to my ear. But I promise you, nothing strange! Just that, you know how paparazzi are, It seemed... well she was kissing me"

You feel a mixture of frustration and resignation grow inside you.

"Heeseung, I don’t need to know the details. Really. You can do what you want with girls, it’s not my business but I’m just tired of this situation..."

On the other side, there was a moment of silence. Then, Heeseung spoke in an unusually serious tone.

'Y/n... Nothing happened. Really. You know I don’t want to ruin everything with this nonsense especially now that I’m adjusting the rhythm on the track." You got up from the restaurant table, away from your friends to find a quiet corner.

"So, if there was nothing, why are you calling me? You know I’ll do what I always do: I’ll fix the situation, I’ll make the photos disappear, and keep your image intact. But, honestly, I’m starting to think you enjoy making me feel bad, every time I’m not with you you always do one."

On the other side of the line, Heeseung looked almost wounded.

'This not so. I know I give you a lot of work, but I didn’t want this thing to come to you. I just... I trust you. And I don’t want you to think bad of me.'

"I don’t think badly of you, Heeseung. It’s my job. Only... sometimes it would be nice to spend a Saturday without having to make up for something."

Sorry. I do. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again."

"All right. Send me everything: photos, videos, anything that can help me solve it. And, Heeseung... Maybe next time you won’t get too close to anyone, even just to talk. You know that it takes one click to blow up the internet."

Heeseung laughed slightly but in a sincere tone

"Promise. Thank you, y/n. You’re the best, you know?"

"I know. And now leave me alone, I want to finish the evening without any more surprises."

All right, all right. Good evening...and don’t think too much, see you in Belgium.'

You hung up and snorted, god could not stand it when it was like that and the words of Jay resonated in your head << You know that Mercedes is looking for a PR for next season, if Heeseung makes you work even when you shouldn’t think about it because I don’t cause trouble and my other teammate too>

Spa Gp (Belgium)

The Friday and Saturday passed quickly, between technical briefings and free practice. Spa was a track that gave many riders the creeps, but Heeseung loved it. The fast curves, the slopes, the iconic Eau Rouge: it was everything he loved about racing and gave him that adrenaline that made him vibrate with its light.

When the time came for qualifying, Heeseung looked like a man on a mission. The atmosphere in the paddock was tense, dark clouds over the circuit threatened rain, but he was as concentrated as ever. He got into the car, ready to give his all and take another pole position because he was a magician in the dry ride.

In the first fast lap, he had already shown that he was fit. He was clean, precise, and almost surgical in his trajectories and his radio engineer was enthusiastic.

Engineer :

"P1 for now, Hee! Great job, but Jay is behind by a tenth."

His second lap was even more impressive. He passed the Eau Rouge with the gas completely open, the car seemed to dance under him. In the final part of the track, under a sky now black as ink, he managed to gain more fundamental milliseconds.

When he crossed the finish line, the clock was clear: he was in pole position.

Engineer :

"P1 ! Pole position! Heeseung! You’re a monster!"

Heeseung banged his hands on the steering wheel for happiness and when he turned on the radio he shouted 'P1 baby! The car is a lightning bolt I can’t wait for tomorrow to fight for victory.

At the finish line, Heeseung raised his fist as he stepped out of the car in victory, while everyone in the Ferrari pit was exploding with cries of joy.

After qualifying you were back in the Ferrari motorhome, watching the replay of Heeseung’s lap. It was amazing, as always. But you couldn’t share the team’s enthusiasm.

When he came back, still euphoric, he approached you with that smile that usually could melt anyone.

«So, my favorite PR what does she think about the ride? Impressive, right?»

He passed you to go up in his motorhome with crossed arms.

"Yes, it was a good lap. But we’ll see tomorrow in the race. Pole doesn’t count if you don’t take the result home."

Heeseung froze, slightly surprised by the coldness in your voice.

«Wow, you are the queen of the tifo, eh? Come on, Y/n a little enthusiasm! I gave everything today and it’s not everyone to pole at Spa!» You raised an eyebrow, keeping your icy gaze.

"Heeseung, you know that what you do on the track is great, and don’t need me to tell you, you’re fated and if it’s not this year next year you’ll be fighting for the world championship."

He stopped, surprised by your voice. He had noticed the hardness of your words and never had seen you so distant.

«Come on, don’t do that. What’s wrong?»

You were unable to hold back, opened the door of his motorhome room, and entered both.

"You’re treating me like a puppet, Heeseung! Every weekend it’s the same! You get what you want, flirting with everyone, and you always get in trouble, the executives of Ferrari call me to solve your problems even during weekends off. I’m tired of being your PR!"

Heeseung tried to approach, but you stopped him with a cold look.

"I want to look around. Maybe it’s time I had a chat with someone like Jay or Sunghoon, see if in Mercedes or Red Bull they treat me as a person and not as a slave of your ego."

Your words struck Heeseung like a stab. His heart stopped for a moment, and an unexpected wave of jealousy swept over him without warning. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The idea that you could look around, away from him, drove him crazy.

Hee this time approached you and with a low, furious voice said to you

«Don’t make me say what I think. Don’t test me.»

He had an expression of anger on his face and you did not back down, rather challenged him with your gaze with the same intensity. The tension between you was palpable, the air seemed to overheat. Then, in a sudden and determined movement, Heeseung grabbed you by the wrists and pushed you against the wall.

«If you think that someone else looks at you like this or that you deserve in their life you are wrong, now I’ll show you what it means to be with me, Y/n.»

His warm breath touched your skin, and you were paralyzed for a moment. But there was no fear in his eyes. Only anger and frustration.

"What do you want from me, Heeseung? Why can’t you treat me like a person?" And I pushed him slightly to run away from him

His body was contracting, but at that moment something in Heeseung snapped. He wanted you, only you, and felt the anger grow inside him like a fire. He came even closer, so much so that his breath felt caress your skin. Then, without warning, he kissed you with force.

The kiss was intense, almost violent as if trying to communicate everything we could not say. Heeseung’s mouth moves against yours with a rush that surprised you but however much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t ignore the attraction between you two, that tension that had bound you from the beginning.

He gently pulls your hair with one hand and holds your jaw with the other, deepening the kiss, practically sticking his tongue in your mouth and establishing dominance from the beginning, Your hands fall on his muscular shoulders and you draw him closer to you and your hips come desperately close to his to quench your thirst. It is a huge boost to his ego of Heeseung when he hears you moan something indestructible and with his big brawn lifts you slightly and puts you in the small raised bed where before the race they did the massages, you slightly spread your legs with one hand and stands between you two. You had the perfect hair, the cherry lip dye that you used to use in your face, the chest that lifts and lowers, and the icing on the cake for Heeseung was to see you wearing a bra as sexy and red as his car as well as his favorite color.

« Fuck, did you do it on purpose to wear this bra? Who would have thought that my PR wore sexy braces so short that she didn’t look like a good girl anymore.»

Heeseung had begun to attack your neck, his lips clinging to every inch of your skin and leaving beautiful red marks. You would tell him to be careful not to make them too evident but you were in a state of trance and pleasure when you felt a hand of Hee come down where your little skirt was to slightly pinch your thighs full, Until he made little circles inside your already slightly wet panties and starts rubbing against his hand, not caring how Hee couldn’t help but smile as he moved his lips towards your full bosom.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible before catching one of your nipples in his mouth and slowly pulling him into the tufts that he had long for his mullet haircut.

"I am not your property, Heeseung. You do not own me. I will never be." You heard a light laugh coming from the boy who was sucking your nipples in his closet and this time he pinched the flesh of your thigh and screamed from pain but also from excitement. " Heeseung"

Hee laughed and his hands found the edge of your red Ferrari skirt that you had to use as a uniform during the summer gp and thanked the stylist for giving him this opportunity to touch you thanks to that skirt.

«Mmm, if you weren’t mine you wouldn’t be here moaning my name Sweetie! See your panties wear my favorite PR» Heeseung saw that you had a red lace outfit even underneath your panties and formed a grin bowed slightly and took one of your legs if he put it over his shoulder and with his fingers slightly calloused you he moved his panties and smiled when he saw you were already totally soaked for him.

You leaned against the cold wall while Hee put two fingers in. At first, he was slow and careful. He wanted to give you the chance to back off if you didn’t feel comfortable enough to do all this with him but when he realized that you really wanted it, he allowed himself to relax and start his work. His steady rhythm did not last long: every second that passed, he pushed only faster, wishing to hear you groan again and again. He kept looking up from your chest, watching your expressions and smiling to himself as he alternated sucking your breasts, especially your full and hard buds, and left marks everywhere in your body. You began to move your hips towards his hand, desperately chasing even more pleasure.

His fingers went deeper and from your mouth came sounds that Heeseung was ecstatic and thought every time he touched himself when he thought of you.

«Tell me,» said Heeseung. You heard it but did not answer. «What it’s like to get fingered by a guy you can’t stand but at the same time that makes you feel all these feelings and we’re doing it where everyone could hear or see us, Y/N!» you have silenced Hee by quickly pulling his hair, your free hand clings to his shoulders, your nails are embedded in the skin exposed by his toned and muscular physique for the many hours of training.

"Hee...it’s so beautiful" you replied moaning and the boy next to you was overwhelmed with adrenaline and groans for praise. You were soaked and with the thumb tickled even more your clitoris and did not stop giving pleasure just as you were about to reach orgasm Heeseung believed that he came too while he felt liquid wet boxer shorts and had slightly hard balls. It hides its face in the hollow of your neck, now stimulating your clitoris with its thumb and making you go into a frenzy.

«Come for me», mumbles right against your ear. A shiver runs through your back before you succumb and the knot in your stomach melts. Heeseung kept you while you were coming, trying with all his might not to go with you because not only would it be embarrassing but also because you would surely have made fun of him.

Heeseung pulled out his fingers once you calmed down. You smiled because you still did not have the energy to talk and say what you thought about everything that happened in that closet...nor did you have the energy to do anything else. Heeseung smiled at you with a grin as he was busy wiping his fingers using his mouth, naturally and winked at you and his look became darker, more intense, and without saying a word, he slowly released it. He pulled down your skirt and went to get the shirt that he had taken off and put it back on you as if you were his favorite doll and put in your ear gently a fluttering tuft that you had in your hair and slightly lowered to your ear and said «It doesn’t end here, Y/n. You are mine and you will be forever»

In Belgium Heeseung won the race and in Hungary, things went well for Hee came p3 but Y/n did not want to sleep with him or stay next to him for that 2 gp pretended that nothing happened between them two and stayed as much as possible with Jungwon. In Holland, Hee felt very tired and wanted to sleep with Y/n but both he and she were embarrassed and they were mostly stubborn, which was a disaster for the Ferrari in general Hee went crashed and when he came back in his boxer pissed and looked coldly Y/n, He absolutely wanted to talk with you but before there were the briefing and interviews to do and when he arrived in the room was exhausted and slept and no 4 hours, on Sunday they arrived in the points area miraculously both him and Jungwon. He just wanted to relax and find a way to talk to you and perhaps knowing all your habits knew where you were at that time and a small smile took possession of his face.

He knew you were probably in the pool, as you often did after a hard day, trying to relax. When he arrived he saw you swimming smoothly, your arms drawing elegant lines in the water, fully concentrated as if you were trying to clear your mind. Heeseung watched your body move, as usual, but this time it wasn’t just admiration. There was desire, anger, and a strange feeling of possessiveness that he could not suppress.

He approached slowly, his heart beating fast and when you noticed him you stopped looking at him with that mix of confusion and challenge that he liked so much but now it seemed more difficult to face. Without thinking too much, he took off his shirt, despite the back pain, and immersed himself in the water with determination. Every fiber of his body cried against his physical state, but he wanted you close.

«Don’t run away, Y/n. I’m tired of playing these games»

You tried to get away but Heeseung reached out, took you by the wrist, and held you firmly. His warm breath touched your skin and you felt a shiver run down your back. You were trapped, but not in the way he thought. It wasn’t fear, you were confused by all the feelings you had for him.

«Why don’t you look at me? I won’t let you go and you know it. I want to see you give in.» You stared at it, and the beating of your heart increased while your body struggled between the desire to escape and the attraction that felt growing. Then, without warning, Heeseung came even closer, his hands touching you gently, but with an intensity that left no doubt. It slid down your skin, from arms to hips, and you couldn’t help but feel that sensation.

«You are mine, Y/n. You always have been, only you don’t want to admit it.»

His words were a sweet poison, a game you no longer knew how to play. You felt Heeseung’s hands touching you in a possessive way, as if he wanted to mark you as if he wanted to remind you that despite your attempts to get away from him you had never been truly free of him.

You tried to push him away but Heeseung wouldn’t let go. With a quick movement, he kissed you. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, but a violent one. His lips pressed against yours with urgency, while Heeseung’s hands went into your legs and carried them around her waist. You pushed him slightly, but he, with a cry choked by desire and frustration, pulled you even closer and you tied your arms around his floor.

«Don’t pretend that it doesn’t drive you crazy. I know what you want. I can see it in your eyes.»

You looked up and started to pull his hair slightly while he sucked your neck and bit it slightly and between the breathless breaths you said:

"You can’t... you can’t... not with me, I don’t want to be another one of your stupid awards. I’m more than this Heeseung."

Heeseung kissed you again, but with a fierce rage as if he was trying to take possession not only of your body but also of your soul.

«I need you Y/n, not as my prize but as my girlfriend. God, from the first day I saw you, you drive me crazy, you’re the only one who can hold my head, the only one who hates my flirting, and the only one who can understand me and see not only the F1 driver but also my most vulnerable part» You felt your heart beat like crazy and you did yes with your head and while accompanying you in his room he never took off his hands from your body and when you reached his room immediately pushed you into his large bathroom where from the large window of saw all the panorama of the city and the sunset in the darkness.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, feel his gaze crossing your face. His eyes stopped on your lips and smiled again, With the air of fun and when he put you under the jet of water shivered a little until you felt the big hands of Heeseung soapy gently all over your body and made you a small soap bubble by pressing lightly a jar of soap to relieve the tension between you two and when he saw you laugh slightly he hugged you and washed your hair gently. «God, how good it is to feel the bath foam I use on you Y/n, I can not wait to fuck you and to smell your scent against mine» he leaned forward, catching your lips in another kiss and you moaned needy in his mouth, pressing your hips against his and he unlaced the little triangle costume you had and when your breast came out with one hand he held you still and with the other started to bite your sensitive bud both because of the excitement but also of the hot water coming down and It gave you slight chills After a while he moved to release the piece under your bra and bent slightly. You groaned as his teeth sank into your thigh, giving a strong sucking so as to leave its mark. " I guess I won’t wear skirts and shorts so soon I’ll have to put on the autumn uniform even with 30 degrees..." You didn’t mean it because God, wanted everyone to see the signs that he left for you.

«I guess not, every time I saw you in that red-hot skirt I always felt my cock getting hard because of you» he growled as he left you some more lollipops along the inside of your thighs, enjoying how you were writhing under him and groaning his name.

His tongue slid along the outer part of your pussy, flattening against the length, then sliding his tongue up and down the crack, plunging just past the entrance to your core. The little jolts and tremors that flowed through your body, together with your choking moans and high-pitched whimpers were absolute perfection for his ears, and Hee turned off the hot water and buried her face as deep as possible. It was intoxicating, the taste of your pussy, sweet and slimy with your excitement, and practically drooling on it was seriously fucked by your body, how you moaned his name, how you teased him every day, and how only you could understand it and have it all for yourself.

«I thought you couldn’t stand me or to be honest that you hated me at the beginning of the F1 season but now look at you are here moaning my name» You pulled Heeseung’s hair slightly and said, "I never hated you, but sometimes you’re so damn annoying that it’s hard to be your PR or stand by you."

"God, please," you complained, the voice that grew faint in a slight groan at the end as Hee ate your soggy pussy as if there was no tomorrow. Until then you had forgotten what pleasure was. His long callused fingers surrounded your wet pussy hole, pushing past your folds to massage against the tensed muscle with every dive of her mouth.

"Hee is even more beautiful than last time, please!" Your back bowed against the cold shower tiles, eyes closed and a low moan in your throat, your body quickly reached the point of no return. «Come for me, Sweetie, only for me»

You pushed your hips forward, rubbing you but you were ripped from that moment of pure bliss when he stuck a long finger inside you and shoved it back and forth quickly pumping it.

His name slipped from your lips in a whisper, his fingers stopped half-thrust. Your pussy was shaking around his finger and kept moving his hand through the bedtime shocks, letting the moment of bliss last as long as possible, watching you keep on wailing and wailing as you came.

«You are so beautiful, Y/n», he whispered as he slowly kissed your lips, his eyes kept wandering up and down the length of your naked figure and he turned on the water and trembled at the contact next to him. " I need you, Hee, please" You started to pump slightly its length and smiled at you «Mm, my favorite PR that asks me to be his, who would ever have thought that my impure dreams become real?» He smiled and leaned forward again, kissing you with small kisses on the neck. His free hand wandered on the lower part of your back caressing your bottom.

«Do you trust me?» you made a sign of yes and slowly took you in his arms and slammed you against the cold shower tiles and slowly with a dry push slid its full length inside you in one single strong and decisive blow and you yelled slightly for the cold contact of the wall and its length within you.

"Hee" you mumbled his name, your legs were wrapped around his hips, and his cock kept diving into you, encountering your desperate whimpers as your hands clenched around his strong biceps that held you tight. Heeseung cursed and dropped his face in your neck and drops of boiling water fell between your bodies and moved a lock of hair from Heeseung and groan pressed against your neck when he took another push.

«Holy shit, why we have not done it before, this body, this pussy is made only for and for no other man» You writhed in place as his hand was clinging to your thigh and around the curve of your back. "Heeseung".

«Fuck Y/n, say my name again, like that. You’re so fucking beautiful with my dick inside of you.» His forehead leaned against yours, nibbling your lower lip, and told you something you would never think of hearing in your life «I love you so much, you make me crazy from morning to night, only you can» He pushed his hips into your tighter hole stronger.

"I love you too, I don’t know...how it happened or when" his lips kissed you avidly, passionately, moving as sharply as her thrusts, Water slippery and you felt his thumb tickling your clitoris, and small moans of pleasure came out of your lips when with a sharp push hit your G-spot.

«Let go, Sweetie, come everywhere on my dick like a good girl you are!» It takes a couple of long, powerful thrusts before you find yourself yelling his name, coming hard on his dick. Your hips are contracting as his cock is sticking deep inside you, The sperm splashes into you and you feel so good after so long after a while Heeseung comes out of you and holds you against his chest, and leaves you some slight caresses that start from the bottom of your back to reach your hips.

«Are you all right? Or was it too much for you, sweetie?» Look up slightly and see him for the first time with a sincere smile, his hair all ruffled and attached to the forehead and with red cheeks because of the heat.

"it was perfect but don’t get your head in the sand, already your ego is big enough, and maybe something else too" You looked slightly down embarrassed, and after a little bit felt Heeseung’s hands take your face and kiss you with lips. «I have to tell you a secret but also you, don’t get too excited» You looked curious and felt his breath next to your ear and said «You’re better than a race won on the last lap»

OMG🌹 i hope you enjoyed this story. Heeseung in my head gives me too many vibes from Ferrari driver, comments are appreciated and also reblogs.

597 notes · View notes

monzabee · 22 days ago

Text

run for the hills – lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where fate decides to bring you back into Lewis’ life, making him question his belief in fate.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: cursing, crying, drinking and mentions of alcohol, mentions of brocedes (rip), kissing, unprotected sex (you shouldn’t be surprised at this point), oral (m receiving), hand kink, praise kink, minors dni!!

Request: “hey, Merry Christmas 🫶🏽 I was hoping I could request a Lewis smut fic where the reader is Nico Rosberg's sister (with a age gap of around 6-8 years with him and Lewis) and before 2016 they were just really close friends who just kissed once but chose to pretend it didn't happen. after years, they run into each other at a club or a party and they're pretty snappy at each other but there's a lot of tension too and they end up having sex where Lewis is really cocky and also the reader has a hand kink and praise kink? I'm so sorry if I made it too long, i love your writing <33” + “oooo please could i request something w lewis?! something gut wrenchingly angsty? sorry i don’t really have a plot in mind hhhh thank you heheh”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! HAPPY NEW YEAR, i started this fic last week and i honestly didn't think I'd finish it this quickly but here we are. don't let my words fool you, i got the request last christmas but if you know me then you know that i am not quick when it comes to working on requests (i'm working on this i promise), not that this fic is even remotely christmassy, but let’s just appreciate that it is supposed to be set during the holiday period lol. this was supposed to be a shorter one but here we are, lol, i'm not even surprised at my inability to keep things short at this point. i posted this fic and realised i forgot to copy and paste a big chunk of it so oh well. as always, feedback is appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Lewis decided he doesn’t like cold a long time ago. That’s why, being the ever-decisive person he is, he chooses to spend his winter vacationing in places like the Maldives or Bali. His decisiveness is an important part of him, given what he does for a living. When he is on the track, in his car, there is no room for hesitation – he needs to be able to make split-second decisions under intense pressure, what’s not to love about that? So, once he decided he’d rather spend his time off basking in the sun rather than freezing to death somewhere else, he never looked back. He enjoys spending his time off in someplace tropical with his family, or without his family; most of the times away from the prying eyes and camera lenses of the media.

But this time, it’s different – he's alone.

Or rather, he thought he would be alone. The villa he rented out for the duration of the month is isolated, just how he likes it. He wakes up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore right outside his windows, and the distant chirping of tropical birds to accompany him as he lounges on the large deck, overlooking the infinite expanse of blue. There are no spectators around to gauge his reaction, try to get him to speak out about his plans for the next year when he moves to Ferrari, or what he’s going to do when he eventually retires one day. He hasn’t seen anyone from the racing world for weeks, and it’s been a much-needed break. He’d usually love to spend Christmas with his family, the only time he would ever tolerate the cold being when he is with his family, but this year he just wanted to get away on his own.

There is no one around that expect anything from him. Just peace.

He’s not a hermit, of course, but he enjoys spending his time by himself mostly isolated from all the other guests of the touristic area he’s staying in. The chef that works at the villa is on call for when Lewis decides that he wants to stay in for the night, the housekeeping staff come every morning to clean up around the house, then promptly leave, providing Lewis with the privacy he so desperately needs. But other than that, and a few nights spent outside in a restaurant or a club? He is all alone, and he is not complaining about it. Another thing about Lewis Hamilton is that he doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in setting and achieving goals; after all, that’s what he’s done all his life. His success isn’t some cosmic coincidence. It’s years of sacrifice by his parents, relentless effort, and unwavering determination. So, when things happen that feel serendipitous, like running into someone from his past, he doesn’t chalk it up to destiny. He chalks it up to the sheer unpredictability of life.

And yet, as he steps out of the villa to head to a nearby beach club after dinner, he doesn’t expect to run into you, especially not after how the things ended last time, but there you are. His eyes find you at the bar with some guy next to you – he has to do a double take. Just to make sure, he tells himself. But no matter how many times his attention reverts to you, he knows it’s you. Of course, it’s you. Though he’s not a believer in fate or destiny, or whatever you might want to call it, there you are – dressed in a flowy linen dress. His first instinct is to ask the server to seat him somewhere else so that he wouldn’t have stare at you and your ‘date’ for the night. His grip on the glass in his hand tightens momentarily, and he exhales slowly, forcing himself to look away. This is not the moment, he tells himself. It’s not his business, not anymore. But still, his gaze drifts back to you. You’re laughing at something the guy says, your head tilted slightly as you sip from your drink. He can’t hear your laughter, no – but what a sound that would be to hear, he thinks for a moment.

He knows he shouldn’t care who you’re with or what you’re doing; it’s been years since the two of you shared anything beyond... well anything, really. But something about seeing you here, in this place he thought was his private retreat from the world, feels like a twist of fate – or the kind of cosmic joke he claims not to believe in. But his eyes watch you as you throw you head back in a laugh and he can practically hear the sound in his head, his mind taking him to years ago when he used to be one of the people who got to hear it first hand; when he joined your family on karting days, or when you celebrated with him when he won a race, or even back to that one time when him and Nico were trying to drive those unicycles and you kept doubling over in laughter when they fell down – something your brother did not appreciate, but Lewis couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face as he watched you from the ground.

Somethings never change, he thinks, as he notices the smallest of smiles that has crept its way onto his face, quickly disappearing the moment he catches himself. He knows it shouldn’t matter to him – let alone bother him. But old habits die hard, and the sight of your smile, that easy laugh, stirs something in him that feels like both longing and a pang of annoyance. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin. Back then, it was teasing remarks that somehow felt more genuine than any praise he received elsewhere. He catches himself glancing your way again, his jaw tightening when the guy beside you leans in a little too close. It’s irrational, this surge of jealousy that claws at his chest. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but that doesn’t stop it from burning through him. He looks down at his drink, willing himself to focus on anything but you. But memories have a way of sneaking up on him, unbidden. The days spent at karting tracks, the shared dinners with your family, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Back then, it was easy. Natural. Like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, until you didn’t.

Just then, you glance over, your eyes scanning the room before they land on him. For a moment, everything stills. The laughter fades from your face, replaced by something unreadable. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. His breath catches in his throat, and he curses himself for the way his chest tightens under your gaze. He watches as you excuse yourself, heading towards the restrooms, and he swears he has never gotten up so fast and walked so fast in his life. He doesn’t think, he just moves until he spots you in the hallway, queued behind some people waiting for the bathroom line. What kind of a club only has one bathroom? He thinks, but that’s not the point.

He clears his throat.

You turn, eyes widening in that familiar, guarded way. “Lewis.” Your lips open in shock as you glance behind him and then focus on him again, “Did- did you follow me here?”

“Were you on a date with that guy?” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself, his voice colder than he expects.

You blink, taken aback by the question. “Excuse me?”

He stands there, regretting the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the irritation from creeping up his spine. His gaze flickers to the bar behind him, where the guy you were with is still talking to the bartender, oblivious to what’s going on. “I asked if you were on a date,” he repeats, a little sharper this time as he emphasises the last word.

You raise an eyebrow, the surprise on your face melting into something more guarded, a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “What if I was?” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’m just out enjoying my night. Ever think of that?”

He feels a rush of heat in his chest. “It’s not like I care,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the edge in his voice that he does. “Just curious.”

You scoff, your lips curling into a sarcastic smile. “Sure, Lewis.”

“So?” He inquires, “Are you? On a date with that guy, I mean.”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly not amused. “Are you serious right now?” you snap, your arms tightening across your chest. “You’re standing here, in the middle of a hallway, asking me about my love life? What is this, high school?”

Lewis feels the heat rise in his neck, irritation mixing with a sense of frustration he doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not asking for your life story, just... just an answer. Is it that hard?” His voice is tight, but he doesn’t back down.

You scoff again, your lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “You really think you can just waltz back in and start demanding answers like we’re still... You know what? Yes, Lewis, I’m on a date.” You throw a glance over your shoulder at the guy still sitting at the bar. “We met on the beach at the hotel I’m staying at, and I thought I’d let him treat me to a dinner and a couple of drinks before I’d let him fuck me six ways to Sunday.” You roll your eyes at someone on the queue gasping at your choice of words. “Not that it’s any of your business. Are you happy now?”

Lewis’s hand grips your wrist, a little too tight, and without warning, he’s tugging you away from the bar, his jaw clenched. “Come on,” he mutters, his tone low and urgent, as he steers you towards the back exit. You’re caught off guard, stumbling to keep up with his forceful pace, your heart hammering in your chest.

“What the hell, Lewis? Let go of me!” you snap, yanking your arm free once you're outside in the chill night air. The chill hits you like a slap, the heat of the club’s atmosphere fading behind you as the door slams shut.

“Seriously?” he spits, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You’re gonna play it like that?”

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know what game you're playing at, but I’m not interested. What the hell was that back there? Dragging me out like I’m some kind of... of property?”

He glares at you, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’re unbelievable.” His voice rises, sharp and cutting. “I ask you a simple question, and you throw that crap at me? What the hell did you think I was supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend like I didn’t care?”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pretend like you don’t care? That’s rich coming from you. You don’t get to just waltz in, after all this time, and act like you can demand answers, Lewis. Like you have any right to know what’s going on in my life.”

“Your brother would be so disappointed in you right now.” His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the air between you two freezes. The breeze picks up, but the sudden silence makes the world feel too loud.

“You don’t get to talk about my brother,” you seethe, as Lewis's face hardens, his jaw tensing, but it’s the look in his eyes that hits hardest — it’s a mixture of hurt and fury, both so raw, you almost feel sorry for what you’ve just unleashed.

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, almost dangerously so, the words slipping through clenched teeth.

You swallow, but it doesn’t help the sharp edge in your voice. “You heard me. You don’t get to talk about him, you don’t get to fuck up my life and you don’t get to come back here acting like you still have any claim on me or my life.” You’re breathing heavily now, the anger and hurt mixing into a bitter cocktail that you can’t quite swallow – funnily enough, Lewis can smell the cocktail you had earlier. “You left. You made your choice, Lewis. And now you don’t get to barge back in and pretend like I owe you anything.”

Lewis stands in front of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight as he processes your words. He doesn’t know when the two of you got closer together, he can practically feel the anger radiating off you, “You think I don’t know that?” he spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You think I don’t know what I did?” His voice cracks slightly, the vulnerability slipping out before he can stop it. “I fucked up, alright? I fucked up more than you’ll ever understand. We all did – me, Nico, you.”

“You don’t get to make me feel guilty about this, Lewis. You don’t get to act like I’m the one who fucked everything up.” Your voice shakes, but you keep going, the words coming faster, more bitter. “You kissed me and called it an ‘accident’, a fluke. You fought with Nico every chance you got. I had to pick up the pieces on my own.”

Lewis flinches at your words, but his anger doesn’t dissipate—if anything, it only sharpens. His hands remain balled into fists at his sides, but there’s something else behind his eyes now, something raw, something almost desperate. “We wouldn’t have worked out,” he mutters, it’s something that he said to himself time and time again to convince himself of it, “I am– was your brother’s friend, you–”

“You were my friend, too!” You exclaim, your hands swatting at his arms, chest – anywhere you can reach. “You left me, as if I meant nothing to you! You stole my first kiss and shattered my life to pieces on the same day!” You manage to get in some good hits despite Lewis’ attempts to calm you down, and the lump in your throat makes it harder for you to continue talking, “Do you know how many times I wondered if you kissed me just to piss Nico off? Do you know how that feels?”

“What?” He asks, his voice low. Each hit, each accusation, it stings. But nothing hits harder than the raw emotion in your eyes – hurt, betrayal, and the weight of everything he left behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. “You think I kissed you to get at Nico?” he says finally, his voice quieter now but no less intense. There’s an edge of disbelief, of hurt, as if the idea itself cuts deeper than your accusations. “Do you really think so little of me?”

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, holding yourself together in the face of his raw honesty. “I don’t know what to think, Lewis. What was I supposed to think back then? You shut me out. You made me feel like it never happened – like I never happened.”

“You were twenty-three years old,” he points out, “our age difference–”

“Oh please,” you scoff, pushing at his chest one last time, “you’ve fucked girls younger than that.”

Lewis flinches at your words, as if they’ve struck a nerve he didn’t even know was exposed. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t get to throw that in my face,” he finally says, his voice low and clipped, tinged with a kind of frustration that feels different from before.

“Why?” You ask, head cocked to the side. “I can’t comment on you fucking other people, but you can question my actions because I want to fuck–”

“Say ‘fuck’ one more time and I swear I’ll–”

“—what, Lewis?” you snap, cutting him off before he can finish his threat. “You’ll what? Walk away again? Pretend this conversation never happened, just like you did last time?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face tightening as he tries to rein in his emotions. “Don’t push me,” he warns, his voice low and taut, but there’s no real menace in it—only desperation.

“Oh, I’m pushing?” You laugh bitterly, throwing your hands up. “I’m the one pushing? You’re the one who showed up here, dredging up every memory I’ve spent years trying to bury. Don’t you dare put this on me, Lewis.”

“You think this is easy for me?” he shoots back, his voice rising. “You think I don’t hate myself for what I did? For what I didn’t do? I’ve lived with this every single day, and you—”

“Fuck you!” you shout, stepping closer, your finger jabbing into his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck–”

His hands shoot up, grabbing your wrists – not harshly, but firmly enough to stop your movements. You don’t even fully register how quickly he pushes you against the wall, “You think I ran off and lived some perfect life?” he hisses, his face inches from yours as he inhales deeply. “You think I didn’t miss you every goddamn day? You think I didn’t lie awake at night, wishing I’d had the guts to ask you to stay?”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the rawness in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the anger in his eyes softens, replaced by something else – something that feels far too close to the hope you’ve been trying to suppress. “Well... yeah.” You inwardly cringe how your voice sounds so weak, but Lewis tilts your chin back to make you look at him.

“Is that so?” He mumbles, thumb caressing your chin as his eyes hungrily take in how your chest moves with each deep breath your inhale and exhale.

Your breath hitches as his thumb lingers, his gaze dropping to your lips like he’s fighting every instinct to close the distance between you. “Lewis...” you start, but his name comes out softer than you intend, more of a plea than the warning you meant it to be.

“What?” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a softness to it, an undercurrent of vulnerability that sends your heart racing. “What do you want me to do, huh? Walk away again? Because I can’t. Not this time.”

You shake your head slightly, but his grip on your chin keeps you from fully looking away. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I don’t even know how to feel about you anymore.”

His eyes darken, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in, his forehead almost brushing yours. “Then let me remind you,” he says, his voice a low rasp.

Your pulse quickens, every nerve in your body screaming at you to push him away – or pull him closer and he tension between you is suffocating. “Don’t,” you whisper, but your voice wavers, betraying the battle waging inside you.

“Don’t what?” he asks, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Don’t do this?” You don’t answer, your throat too tight, your mind too clouded with memories, anger, and something else you’re not ready to name. He waits, his breath mingling with yours, his patience stretching thin. “Say the word,” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint. “Tell me to stop, and I will. I will let you go back and take him back to your room and do whatever you want.”

But you don’t say it. You can’t. Because as much as you hate him, as much as you want to scream at him, cry, and push him away... you also want this. Want him.

And Lewis knows it.

His hand releases your wrist, sliding down to your waist as his other hand stays on your chin, tilting your face toward him. The kiss that follows isn’t soft, isn’t sweet – it’s desperate, raw, and filled with years of unspoken words. It’s anger and longing, heartbreak, and desire, all crashing together in a way that steals your breath and sends your heart into overdrive. A softer kiss might have been what you wanted, but Lewis knows this is what you need. His body presses against yours, and your hands instinctively find his shoulders, clinging to him as if letting go would leave you falling apart. His lips are warm and insistent, the taste of him intoxicating. Every move, every touch, feels like he’s trying to make up for everything he never said, everything he left behind.

The kiss deepens, each second unravelling more of the carefully constructed armour you’ve built around your heart. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as everything else feels like it’s spinning. You can feel the heat radiating off him with every press of his body against yours. Your mind screams at you to stop, to think, to pull away before you lose yourself completely – but your body betrays you. The years of hurt, anger, and confusion dissolve into the fire burning between you, ignited by a kiss that’s as much a battle as it is a surrender.

Lewis pulls back just enough to let you breathe, his lips still hovering close, his forehead resting against yours. His breath is hot against your skin, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. “You still want to go back and fuck your little lover boy?”

“Who?” You mumble, breathless as a result of the kiss as your eyes become heavy with something you can’t quite describe.

Lewis smirks, a glint of triumph flashing in his dark eyes. "Exactly," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your waist in slow, deliberate circles. His confidence is maddening, but the heat between you makes it impossible to summon the indignation you’d usually feel.

You try to muster a response, something sharp and cutting to put him back in his place, but the way his gaze drops to your lips again makes the words dissolve before they even form. “Don’t do that,” you manage, though your voice lacks the conviction you intended.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, though the rasp in his tone betrays his intent.

“Act like this changes everything.”

His smirk falters, replaced by a seriousness that roots you in place. “It doesn’t change everything,” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But it changes something. Doesn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your ribs as his words sink in. You hate how easily he disarms you, how effortlessly he pulls you back into his orbit no matter how much you’ve tried to escape it. But deep down, you know he’s right. “I hate you,” you whisper, though even you can hear the weakness in your words.

“I know,” he replies, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “And I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

The sincerity in his voice cuts through the haze, making your chest tighten. But before you can think about it, you find yourself tugging on the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling him closer to yourself as you mumble, “Kiss me again.”

Your hands, which moments ago were pushing him away, now find their way into his hair, pulling him closer, as if to anchor yourself in the storm he’s unleashed within you. Lewis doesn’t hold back. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him, the wall at your back the only thing keeping you steady. The kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that borders on desperation, as though he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. When the need for air becomes undeniable, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you are breathing heavily, the space between you charged with everything unsaid. “Tell me you didn’t feel that,” he says, his voice hoarse, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You can’t answer right away, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest it drowns out any coherent thought. But eventually, you manage to find your voice. “I hate you,” you whisper, but there’s no conviction behind the words. They sound hollow, even to your own ears.

He lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, but the edge in your voice falters.

“I’m not,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. “I’m telling you what I see. And I see you... still here. Still looking at me like that.” His hand trails down to your hip, his touch light but grounding. “If you hated me, you would’ve walked away by now.”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to regain some semblance of control, but it’s impossible with him standing this close, his presence overwhelming. “This doesn’t change anything,” you say, though it feels more like you’re trying to convince yourself than him.

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softer now. “But it’s a start.” You don’t say anything to agree or refute his statement, and after a brief pause, he straightens, fixies your dress and tries to fix your hair as well. “Come on,” he says, “I’ll take you back.”

“But, my bag,” you mutter, pushing out your lower lip in a pout when you realise your bag is on the floor. Lewis has to restrain himself when he sees your lips all puffed up because of him. Your voice is whiny, and he realises you’re slurring your words a little bit when you tug on his shirt, “I don’t wanna leave my bag here.”

Lewis looks at you for a moment, his expression softening as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin with the same tenderness he’s shown all night despite all your fighting. With a soft exhale, Lewis bends down to pick up your bag, holding it out to you with the same quiet care. “Don’t make that face,” he murmurs, his voice teasing but laced with something tender. “You really wanna go back to that room, after everything that just happened?”

You look at him, a mix of confusion and desire swirling inside you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admit, the honesty slipping out before you can stop it. The words feel raw, vulnerable, but there’s something about his presence, the way he’s here, still so close, that makes you feel safe enough to say it.

Lewis doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, his eyes soften, his thumb grazing the strap of your bag as he watches you closely, as though he’s searching for something in your expression. Finally, he steps closer again, the space between you narrowing once more. “I get it,” he says quietly. “But I’m not letting you go home alone tonight.”

The words send a shiver down your spine. You want to protest, to push him away, but there’s something in his gaze, the way he’s looking at you now, that makes you second-guess everything you thought you wanted. You hesitate for a moment longer, the weight of your thoughts heavy in the air, but the pull between you is undeniable. It’s the kind of pull that’s magnetic, that doesn’t let you escape even when you try to resist.

Finally, you nod, the decision feeling both like a surrender and a choice you can’t take back. “Okay,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. “Take me back, then.”

You don’t even remember getting into his car, but you do remember the smug look he shot at your date – Carl, you think – when he helped you through the club with a firm hand on your back. The villa Lewis rented for his little getaway is entirely what you expect it to be – modern, grand, and secluded enough so no one uninvited would know he is there and bother him. The couch in the living room looks way too inviting and you make a mental note to avoid it for now. Sitting on it might make this whole situation feel too real, too comfortable, and you’re not ready for that. You glance around the space instead, taking in the clean lines of the modern furniture, the polished wood floors, and the sprawling windows that offer an unobstructed view of the moonlit ocean. You walk towards the windows, eyes taking in the view from inside the villa. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, its surface shimmering under the moonlight. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faintly audible even through the glass, a gentle hum that seems to echo the turmoil in your chest.

You wrap your arms around yourself, partly to steady your nerves and partly to shield yourself from the vulnerability creeping up on you. The view is breathtaking, but it does little to quiet the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You faintly hear Lewis calling out your name, but as if you are in a trance, you can’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. His voice calls out to you again, softer this time, closer. “Hey,” he says, and you feel the warmth of his presence before you even see him. Lewis’s reflection appears in the glass, his dark eyes fixed on you as he stands just behind you.

You finally tear your gaze away from the ocean and turn to face him, your arms still wrapped protectively around yourself. “It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment.

Lewis nods, his expression unreadable as he follows your gaze back to the window. “It is,” he agrees, but there’s a weight to his tone, as if he’s not just talking about the view. His eyes flicker back to you, searching your face. “But it doesn’t seem like it’s helping much.”

You let out a shaky laugh, more to fill the silence than anything else. “It’s not that simple, Lewis.”

“Nothing ever is,” he replies, stepping closer until there’s only a breath of space between you. “But I’m here. You don’t have to deal with whatever this is alone.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into it. “I don’t know what to do with you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “With... us.”

He exhales deeply, his hand lifting as though he wants to touch you but hesitates. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he says, his voice steady. “I just want to make sure you’re okay tonight. That’s all that matters to me.”

Something about his words, his presence, eases the knot in your chest, if only slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his voice carrying a quiet reassurance. “Just be here. With me.”

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for any sign of pretense or ulterior motives, but all you see is the same man who’s managed to undo you with a single glance. “Show me your room.”

“We don’t have to do that.” His eyebrows furrow as he reaches for your cheek, “That not why I brought you here.”

“Isn’t it?” You try to joke, but his deep sigh is a sign of his disapproval. “I know that’s not why you brought me here, but it can be one of the reasons you brought me here.”

“Can it?” He drawls, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“For God’s sake, Lewis.” You sigh, turning your body towards the man standing next to you. “Do I need to beg you for you to fuck me?”

Lewis’s smirk falters, his expression shifting into something deeper, darker, but undeniably tender. “Don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged with restraint as he steps closer. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You don’t need to beg me for anything. Not now, not ever.”

The intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch, and for a moment, the air between you feels electric. “Then fuck me,” you whisper, your voice trembling with equal parts frustration and desire. “If you want me, show me.”

He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s steadying himself, and when he opens them again, the resolve in his expression takes your breath away. “You think I don’t want you?” he asks, his tone low but firm. “You don’t know how hard it is to hold back, to stop myself from–” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as if even admitting it is too much. He reaches for one of your hands, freeing from your hold and places it on his crotch. “See what you do to me?”

The crude act manages to steal a gasp from you, your eyes widening at how hard he already is. “Lewis,” you mutter, he responds with an affirmative hum, “show me your bedroom.”

He takes your hand, his grip firm but careful, and leads you down a sleek hallway. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished wood floor echoes softly, a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. When he pushes open the door to his bedroom, you’re momentarily distracted by how much the space reflects him. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft, ethereal light. The massive bed dominates the room, its crisp white sheets and plush pillows inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silver glow of the moon, casting the room in a soft light.

You walk towards the centre of the room, the corner of your lip trapped between your teeth as you glance at Lewis over your shoulder before you run towards the bed and throw yourself onto the soft bedding. Lewis watches you with an amused smirk as you sprawl across the bed, your carefree motion starkly contrasting the simmering tension in the air. “Comfortable, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrays his calm façade.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, giving him a challenging look. “Very.” Then you narrow your eyes at him, “But don’t call me baby, I am not your baby.”

He chuckles, low and throaty, as he steps closer, loosening the top button of his shirt with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down your spine. “No?” he muses, stopping at the edge of the bed. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if committing you to memory.

Your breath hitches when he leans over, placing a hand on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. His face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I like seeing you like this,” he admits, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Relaxed, it suits you.”

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, but you refuse to let him have the upper hand completely. Your fingers trail up his chest, over the defined planes of his torso, and then slide beneath the open collar of his shirt. “I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice soft but loaded with meaning.

His response is immediate. His lips crash against yours with a fervour that steals your breath, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss is raw and consuming, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into the connection. When he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged, he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You smile, your hands slipping down to the waistband of his pants. “Why don’t you show me?”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one smooth motion, he lifts you, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries you to the centre of the bed. He chuckles at the sound of your giggling, as he carefully lays you back down on the soft bed. His fingers work diligently to get you out of your dress, pulling the linen garment over your head as Lewis lets his eyes hungrily take you in. When your dress finally falls away, leaving you in nothing but lace and skin, Lewis takes a slow breath, his eyes scanning over your body with a mixture of awe and hunger. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. His fingers trace the curve of your waist, his touch sending shivers of desire through your body.

You arch slightly into his touch, your breath coming faster, and you meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “Are you going to just gawk at me, or are you going to actually do something?”

He smirks, a flash of cockiness in his eyes. “Patience,” he teases, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in his voice as he lowers himself over you. With one hand bracing himself above you, his other hand slides down between your bodies, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers inch closer to where you need him most. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly, his lips just inches from yours. His fingers find the lace of your underwear, his touch deliberate as he pulls it aside and slips a finger inside you, making you gasp. “You’re fucking perfect,” he groans, his lips crashing against yours as he deepens the kiss, his finger working inside you with a slow, steady rhythm. You can feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second.

“Don- don’t say ‘fuck’, Lewis,” you tease him with a small smirk as your breathing becomes deeper, “it’s unbecoming.”

“You’ll see who will be coming in a few minutes, baby.” He chuckles at the way your expression changes at the mention of the word, his fingers moving in deeper as your let out a disapproving moan, “What? You don’t like it when I call you that?”

With another dissenting hum and a raise of your hips to meet his hand, you let out a long exhale. “I’m not your baby Lewis, stop calling me that.” With the patience that only he can tolerate, he continues the leisurely movements of his fingers. “I want more, please.”

Lewis tuts at your words softly, chuckling as he takes in your reactions. “I think you have a very important decision to make here,” he murmurs, his eyes suddenly painted with something more serious, “because once I fuck you, I’m not letting you go.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The words come out choppy as your breathing gets more erratic, his fingers stubbornly keeping to the slow rhythm he’s set.

Lewis's gaze sharpens, the challenge in your tone sparking a flame in his dark eyes. “Oh, you’ll see it, alright,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise as his hand withdraws briefly, leaving you breathless and aching. Before you can protest, he moves with deliberate precision, tugging his shirt over his head and revealing the expanse of his chest – sculpted, strong, and utterly captivating. “Get on your hands and knees.”

The command leaves no room for debate, his voice firm but laden with heat. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity flickering in your expression. “Bold of you to assume I'll listen,” you quip, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your anticipation.

Lewis smirks, leaning down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, you'll listen,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know exactly how patient I can be, but the same can’t be said for you.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, and before you realize it, you’ve complied, shifting onto your hands and knees in the centre of the bed. You can practically feel his gaze on you, then all of a sudden, you can actually feel him behind you, the bed dipping slightly under his weight as he moves closer. “Good girl,” he says softly, his voice rich with approval, and the way your body reacts to the praise is almost embarrassing. “Oh, my beautiful darling.” His hands skim over your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. The grip is firm, possessive, sending a thrill through you.

The sounds of him taking himself out of his trousers and pumping cock in his hand is pure debauchery, yet you find yourself pushing your hips back against his thighs. Lewis's low chuckle reverberates through you, a sound full of confidence and desire. His hand tightens on your hips, steadying you as he leans in, his chest brushing against your back. The heat of his skin against yours makes you arch into him instinctively, earning another throaty laugh from him. “You're eager,” he teases, his voice dark and dripping with amusement. “I like you like this.”

You bite your lip to suppress the needy sound threatening to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Maybe you're just slow,” you retort breathlessly, glancing back at him over your shoulder, a challenging look in your eyes.

Lewis growls low in his throat, his hands sliding across your back. “Careful,” he warns, though there's a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. “Push me too far, and I won't be nice.” Your breath catches at his words, but before you can form a response, you feel him guiding himself to your entrance, teasingly dragging against you. The deliberate slowness makes your frustration peak, and you push your hips back, a wordless plea for him to stop teasing.

“Patience, darling,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise. But even as he says it, he shifts forward, entering you with a deliberate motion that steals the breath from your lungs.

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve in your body alight as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust. “Lewis,” you breathe, your voice shaky with need.

His hands gently caress over the skin of your back and hips, soothing over the sharp feeling of Lewis easing himself into you in small movements of his hips. “You’re doing so well,” he shushes your whiny moans, his hands tracing your sides, grounding you. “You feel perfect, we’re almost there, darling.”

“A-almost?” Your voice cuts his words off, voice shaky with need, “It’s not going to fit, Lewis, I can’t-”

He leans over you, his lips pressing tender kisses along your spine, each one sending a ripple of warmth through you. His voice is a soothing murmur in your ear. “Relax for me, darling. Let me take care of you.” Your breathing steadies under his touch, the initial sting giving way to a fullness that leaves you breathless as he pushes himself fully into you. You arch your back slightly, pressing into him as his hands continue their gentle exploration of your body. The tenderness in his actions contrasts with the raw desire in his voice, creating a heady mix that leaves you yearning for more. “That's it,” he praises, his tone soft but laced with heat. “You’re incredible. See? We made it fit.”

“I feel so full.” You manage to let out, voice whiny as the moan is ripped from the back of your throat. “It feels so good, Lewis.”

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that builds gradually, allowing you to feel every inch of him. The friction ignites a fire within you, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips, each sound spurring him on. His grip on your hips tightens, his pace increasing as he finds the perfect rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice low and thick with desire. His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair as he pulls you back slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine, you know that? Only mine.”

The moan that comes from you is dissenting, causing Lewis to slide his hand down your throat to use the leverage to pull you up on your knees, pressed against his chest. “No,” you say, hands extending backwards to keep holding onto him in an attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he is fucking you now.

His words send a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone igniting something primal within you. “Say it,” he commands, his voice rough as his movements grow more urgent. “Say you're mine.”

Your breaths are shallow, punctuated by soft whimpers as you cling to him, trying to keep pace with his movements. The way he pulls you against him, his hand firm on your throat, sends a jolt of heat through your core. His hand is firm around your throat, but not uncomfortable to the point that you can’t breathe.

“I’m not yours,” you gasp defiantly, your voice trembling with every move he makes.

Lewis growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your back as his hand tightens slightly around your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you in place. “We’ll see about that,” he says darkly.

His hips snap against you harder now, his rhythm relentless as if determined to prove you wrong. The overwhelming sensation leaves you gasping, your fingers clutching at his forearm for balance. His free hand slides down your body, gripping your waist to hold you steady as he drives deeper, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“Still not mine?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. His tone is equal parts teasing and commanding, daring you to resist him. “Still think someone else can fuck you better than I can?” You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans spilling from you, but the way he moves, the way he claims you, has you crumbling. “Say it,” he repeats, his voice a low growl that echoes through your very core.

Torn between defiance and surrender, you meet his challenge with a shaky breath. “I’m-” you begin, but he cuts you off with a particularly deep thrust that has you crying out his name instead.

“Hmm?” Lewis chuckles darkly, clearly enjoying your struggle. His grip on your neck softens slightly as his fingers trace the column of your throat in a soothing gesture. “Come on, baby, just say it.”

“I’m-” The word catches in your throat as he shifts slightly, the angle of his hips hitting a spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. A broken moan escapes your lips instead, and Lewis smirks against your ear, clearly revelling in your unravelling.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice low and demanding. His hand slides from your throat to your jaw, turning your face just enough that his lips can brush against the corner of your mouth. The gentleness of the gesture is at odds with the raw intensity of his movements, leaving you breathless.

“I’m yours,” you finally gasp, the words tumbling out in a mix of desperation and surrender.

Lewis freezes for a heartbeat, his chest heaving against your back as the admission settles between you. Then, with a triumphant growl, he resumes his pace, his grip on you tightening as if he intends to imprint himself into every fibber of your being.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. His lips trail along your shoulder, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “Say it again.”

“Yours,” you whisper, the word coming easier this time, though the weight of it still sends a shiver through you.

His rhythm grows more urgent, his body moving with a single-minded purpose as he pushes you both toward the edge. “Never forget it,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, “now come for me.” You blame the singular cocktail you had three or so hours ago for your compliance to his words, as you feel the wave of pleasure crash over you, obliterating any coherent thought. Your body trembles uncontrollably in his arms, your cries of release echoing in the room as he whispers sweet words of praise in your ear.

There are a million other things Lewis expects you to say, but you surprise him with a, “I wanna taste you.”

Lewis's movements still, his breath catching at your unexpected words. He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with surprise and a flicker of intrigue. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement and undeniable heat.

You nod, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze, but there’s a spark of confidence in your eyes. “I really do,” you say softly, the tremble in your voice betraying both your boldness and your eagerness.

He studies you for a moment longer, his expression shifting to one of reverence laced with desire. "Well," he says, his voice low and gravelly, "who am I to deny you, darling?" With a gentleness that contrasts the fervour of moments ago, Lewis guides you to sit up, his hands warm and steady as they support you. He shifts to the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly, giving you room and letting you take control. His gaze never leaves you, his dark eyes glinting with anticipation. You settle between his thighs, your hands skimming over his skin, marvelling at the way his muscles tense under your touch. There's a sense of power in the way his body responds to you, in the way his breathing hitches when your lips brush against him. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with a small smile before leaning in. The moment your mouth closes around him, Lewis groans low in his throat, his head falling back as his control begins to slip. His hands find their way to your hair, his touch gentle but firm as he guides you, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Just like that,” he praises, his voice rough with pleasure. “You’re perfect, baby.”

The sound of his voice, the way he says your name like it’s the only thing that matters, spurs you on, and you lose yourself in the moment, intent on unravelling him the way he did you. Your lips move with deliberate intent, your tongue tracing teasing paths that have him groaning your name like a prayer. His fingers tighten in your hair, a gentle tug that makes you glance up at him through your lashes. The sight of him – head tilted back, his lips parted as he struggles for breath, sends a thrill through you.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice ragged and filled with awe. His eyes find yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs to steady yourself. The sound he makes is primal, his control slipping further as his hips jerk involuntarily. He tries to hold himself back, but you can tell he’s close to losing himself completely. “Baby,” Lewis rasps, his voice thick with need, “you keep that up, and I won’t last.” You hum around him in response, the vibration pulling another groan from his lips. His hand slips from your hair to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender contrast to the raw passion between you. “Look at me,” he whispers, his tone almost pleading.

You meet his gaze, and the connection between you feels electric. His chest heaves as his breaths come in quick, shallow bursts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m so close,” he warns, his voice a low growl. “Do you want me to stop?” The shake of your head is all the answer he needs. With a curse under his breath, he lets go, his body shuddering as he gives himself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He holds your gaze the entire time, his grip on you tightening as if anchoring himself to the moment.

When he calms down, he collapses back against the bed, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths. You sit back after swallowing, a triumphant smile playing on your lips as you take in the sight of him, utterly undone. “That was fun,” you rasp as you take in the sight in front of you.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound low and breathless, as he drapes an arm over his face, trying to regain his composure. “Fun?” he repeats, his voice laced with amusement and lingering satisfaction. He peeks at you from under his arm, his dark eyes glinting with a mixture of adoration and disbelief. “You’ve got no idea what you just did to me.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you crawl up the bed to lie beside him. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” you tease, your voice light but with a hint of pride.

He turns toward you, propping himself up on one elbow, his free hand reaching out to trace lazy circles along your arm. “You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet filled with a reverence that makes your cheeks flush. “And I’m completely at your mercy.”

You laugh, the sound light and genuine, as you nuzzle into his touch. “I think you like it that way,” you reply, your fingers grazing over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“More than you know,” he admits, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. The tender gesture contrasts with the raw intensity you’d just shared, and it sends a warm flutter through your chest.

For a moment, silence falls between you, the only sound the soft rustling of the sheets and the slowing rhythm of his breathing. Then Lewis shifts, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer. “You know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and you glance up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his gaze. “Good,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face as he tightens his hold on you. “That’s all I get?”

“We’ll see how you feel after we get home,” you mumble as you run a finger along the curve of his jaw, “you might be bored of me by then.”

“Home,” Lewis muses quietly, breaking the silence and ignoring your words. His voice is softer now, contemplative. “I like the sound of that.”

You glance up at him, his face so close that you can see the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression. It stirs something deep within you – a mix of tenderness and longing that takes you by surprise.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Me too.”

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