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pin-k-ink · 4 months

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study session // akaashi keiji

tw ⇢ mutual pining, making out, soft sex, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, getting caught(?), bokuto being bokuto

wc ⇢ 5.9k

The deadbolt thunked softly as Akaashi twisted his key, shoulders sagging with fatigue after another marathon day of editing. He toed off his loafers, inhaling the familiar blend of books and bergamot that enveloped the apartment he shared with his roommate - you, Bokuto's younger sister.

A muffled sniffle drifted from down the hall, immediately snapping Akaashi's focus into sharp awareness. Frowning slightly, he followed the sound toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, spilling a thin blade of light across the hardwood.

Akaashi hesitated with his knuckles hovering outside the door frame, another watery hiccup reaching his ears. Quietly, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Y/N, are you alright?" he called out gently.

A tremulous inhale, then your voice filtered through, think and wavering. "A-Akaashi? Y-Yeah, I'm...I'm okay."

But the attempt at false bravery was betrayed by the slight quaver marring your tone. Akaashi's brow furrowed in sincere concern, fingers already grasping the door handle.

"May I come in?"

A pause, then a resigned sigh. "Okay..."

He pushed the door open slowly to find you hunched over your desk, shoulders trembling and face streaked with tears. Textbooks and notepads were strewn haphazardly, evidence of the chaotic state of your studies. Akaashi felt a pang in his chest at the rare sight of your usual sunny disposition so distraught and overwhelmed.

"Oh Y/N..." He crossed the room in three strides, circling around to crouch beside you. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You swiped the sleeve of your sweatshirt uselessly across your damp cheeks, exhaling a ragged breath. "It's just...there's so much material to review for midterms and I'm f-falling behind. I've been studying nonstop but nothing is sticking and I'm so stressed out..."

The dam of frustration you'd been holding back finally burst as your voice hitched dangerously on those last words. Akaashi watched, utterly helpless, as you dissolved into fresh sobs muffled behind your palms.

For a moment, he wavered, unsure of the proper decorum to provide comfort without overstepping boundaries. But the sight of your dejected hunched form overwhelmed any hesitation. Tenderly, he reached out to pull you into his embrace, tucking your face into the reassuring warmth of his chest.

You immediately melted against him, tremors wracking your frame as the tears soaked through the soft cotton of his dress shirt. Akaashi just held you close, cheek pillowed atop your crown as he murmured soothing reassurances.

"It's okay, just breathe...you've got this..."

In that dimly-lit sanctuary of your bedroom, he allowed himself to admit the truth simmering beneath his concern - the soft cadence of your breath fanning across his collarbone, the pliant weight of you cradled against his chest...it all felt so intrinsically right. As if you belonged sheltered in his arms.

The realization should have startled Akaashi more than it did. Yet, somehow his heart had already accepted the quiet inevitability of the tenderness blooming between you two over years of being roommates.

Eventually, your hitched breathing began to even out, arms tentatively circling his waist as you reigned in your spiked emotions. When at last you pulled back, Akaashi was gutted by your reddened eyes and wan expression - outer signs of the immense strain you were enduring.

"God, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, avoiding his gaze self-consciously. "You must think I'm an over-emotional wreck."

"Not at all," he replied, cupping your cheek with one palm to tilt your face back toward him. "You've been pushing yourself incredibly hard. It's only natural the stress would eventually need an outlet."

Akaashi held your wavering stare, silently willing you to grasp his understanding, his concern, the unacknowledged tenderness reflecting behind his carefully composed exterior. Finally, you managed a watery semblance of your usual vibrant smile - a flicker of your indomitable spirit that never failed to stir his heart.

"Thank you, Akaashi. I don't know what I'd do without your steadying presence when I'm a mess like this."

"Anytime," he murmured, the words carrying more weight than he perhaps intended. Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels. "Now...why don't you take a short break, splash some water on your face? Then come find me in the living room. I'll help you go over whatever topics are tripping you up."

Your eyes widened fractionally at his offer of studying together, then crinkled with renewed determination and gratitude. "Really? You don't mind? God, that would be incredible..."

"Of course not. We'll tackle this together." Akaashi rose fluidly to his feet. "I'll put on a pot of tea for us."

As he retreated into the hallway, he couldn't deny the faint fluttering warmth that blossomed in his chest. Though he assisted you frequently with your coursework, there was an unusual anticipation thrumming beneath his skin now. Perhaps amplified by those tender, unfurling moments of connection in your bedroom.

He allowed himself a fleeting smile, letting the cozy atmosphere of your shared apartment enfold him as he busied himself preparing the tea tray. Yes, something had definitively shifted between you two tonight. And Akaashi found himself unexpectedly eager to embrace whatever this newintimacy ushered in.

The gentle rattling of ceramic cups and quiet brewing of the electric kettle provided a soothing soundtrack as Akaashi arranged the tea tray. He inhaled the grounding aroma of bergamot and lemon, mentally preparing himself to tackle your studies with the same care he devoted to his editorial work.

Just as he finished setting out the teacups, you padded into the living room - face scrubbed clean and radiant smile tentatively resurfacing. Akaashi felt his chest constrict at how achingly tender and vulnerable you appeared, swathed in an over-sized university hoodie. He had to resist the sudden impulse to pull you back into his arms.

"Hey, all set whenever you are," you murmured, rubbing the dampness from your cheeks. You settled cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the sofa as you gathered your notes and textbooks onto the coffee table.

Akaashi poured the fragrant tea, sliding one steaming cup towards you before joining on the floor opposite. You offered him a grateful look over the rim as you sipped carefully, face visibly relaxing as the warmth seeped into you.

"Okay," he prompted in that low, soft timbre of his. "Where should we start?"

You worried your bottom lip - an endearing quirk he'd noticed you did when concentrating hard. "Umm...organic chemistry has been really kicking my ass lately. If we could go over some of the molecular structure concepts?"

Nodding, Akaashi reached for your notebook, allowing your shoulders to brush in the process. A shiver rippled through you that had nothing to do with the temperature. He pretended not to notice, keeping his focus trained on the page as he scanned your scattered notations with a practiced editorial eye.

"I can see where you're getting tripped up on the hybridization models..." he mused, fingers unconsciously smoothing the rumpled pages with a delicate touch.

With that same deft cadence he used to break down complex manga narratives and storyboards, Akaashi began illuminating the organic chemistry topics that were giving you trouble. You quickly became absorbed in his low, authoritative explanations - leaning incrementally closer until your knees knocked together every time you shifted position.

Akaashi's mouth went dry whenever your raptured gaze lifted to his, those expressive eyes drinking in each new nuance he highlighted. He couldn't resist the temptation to reach out, large palms engulfing your smaller hands to guide them through the molecular diagram you were struggling with.

You seemed to shudder bodily at the contact, but didn't pull away. If anything, you gravitated infinitesimally nearer to his orbit until the earthy sandalwood scent of his cologne enveloped you completely.

For his part, Akaashi felt utterly transfixed dissecting the intricacies of organic chemistry with you. Long minutes blurred into hours, marked only by the occasional rasp of your pencil scratching out new understandings and quiet stretch of reaching for your rapidly cooling tea.

A heady sort of intimacy had descended over the hushed apartment - suspended in a gossamer pocket of time where only the two of you existed. Even when a shrill trill from your phone interrupted, shattering the weighted quiet, neither of you startled apart.

"Shit, it's Kou checking in..." you murmured vaguely, swiping to silence the incessant buzzing without sparing the screen a glance.

A tiny furrow appeared between Akaashi's brows, unable to fully mask the fleeting pang of disappointment. Of course Bokuto would want to catch up with his baby sister. He tamped down whatever misguided sentiments had begun flickering to life and refocused on the present lesson.

A new cadence emerged over the ensuing weeks - you and Akaashi settling into a ritual of late-night cram sessions in the living room after he returned from the office. What had begun as his kind offer of a studious assist gradually deepened into something richer, more intimate. Textbooks became the pretense, while conversations about Akaashi's editorial work for up-and-coming mangaka and your academic ambitions flowed more organically.

He savored those hushed interludes, coveting each fresh glimpse into your spirit and psyche that you shyly unveiled over mugs of bergamot tea and pages. You seemed to come alive at night, unfurling from your usual subdued daytime presence into an incandescent force as radiant as your legendary brother.

On nights when Bokuto himself burst into the apartment unannounced for a visit, his raucous presence felt strangely...diminishing. Like an intrusion upon the rarefied bubble of connection you and Akaashi had begun delicately cultivating, no matter how inadvertent.

"Hey hey hey!!!" The boisterous owl'd screech, sweeping his baby sister up in his signature crushing embrace much to her squealing protests. "There're my two favorite roomies!!"

For the span of those chaotic visits, you and Akaashi became spectators in your own apartment - observing from the periphery as Bokuto dominated the space with his overwhelming charm and delirious anecdotes. Invariably, you would share a look with Akaashi from across the room - shining with a sort of knowing affection and silent promise to reconvene your quieter interlude once the whirlwind subsided.

Bokuto remained blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent shifting between you, of course. But with each passing day, each fitful study session that bled into the wee hours, Akaashi felt himself falling deeper under the spell of your steady warmth and lighthearted presence.

The selfish part of him began hoarding those sacrosanct one-on-one moments, savoring the intimacy of being the one to share in your blossoming self-discoveries, your academic passions, all crowned by the coquettish smiles and sparkling glances you bestowed upon him alone.

He had become addicted to basking in the rosy glow of your affection on sleepy afternoons when you'd emerge from your bedroom after sleeping late, tousled hair haloing your face. Akaashi routinely lost his train of thought watching you shuffle around the apartment preparing tea and toast, rumpled and soft and utterly resplendent in his eyes.

It was during those tranquil respites between lessons that the reality of his deepening feelings became unavoidable, even to Akaashi's own practiced aloofness. You had worked your way under his skin, into his veins, until his every waking moment centered upon your orbit. With each night that blurred into dawning tenderness, he felt himself teetering perilously towards falling utterly, hopelessly in love.

The soft patter of rain against the windowpanes provided a soothing ambient soundtrack as you pored over your psychology textbook. Akaashi sat beside you on the couch, leg brushing yours as he leaned in to examine the passage you were struggling to grasp.

"So the key difference between the Psychoanalytic and Behaviorist models is..." His low, modulated timbre washed over you as he began breaking down the nuances.

You bit your lip, nodding along while trying to concentrate despite the incredible proximity of his body heat and intoxicating sandalwood cologne. Akaashi's attentive gaze flickered between you and the text, entirely focused on elucidating the intricate psychological concepts until comprehension finally sparked behind your eyes.

"Ohhh, I think I'm getting it now..." you murmured, scribbling a few shorthand notes in the margin. "The Psychoanalytic looks at the deeper underlying motivations like Freudian psyche stuff, whereas Behaviorist is all about external conditioning and reinforcement?"

Akaashi's lips curved into a pleased smile - warm approval crinkling the corners of his steel-grey eyes. "Exactly. You've got a keen understanding."

You basked in the subtle praise, preening slightly under his undivided attention. An unexpected crack of thunder punctuated the moment, making you jump. Akaashi steadied you with a light touch on your shoulder, fingers lingering perhaps a beat too long.

"Perhaps we should take a break?" he suggested, eyes crinkling fondly at your startled reaction. "My brain could use a reprieve from the academic intensity."

"Oh? Did you have something else in mind?" You arched a brow teasingly.

The longer you pursued your studies together during these late-night sessions, the more your dynamic had evolved beyond a simple student-mentor rapport. An undercurrent of flirtatious energy had begun simmering between you, acknowledged yet never overtly addressed.

Akaashi hummed, reaching over to snag the TV remote from the end table. "I happened to download a few of the films from that Ghibli retrospective you mentioned wanting to see..."

Your face lit up at the casual reminder of an offhand comment you'd made ages ago - pleasantly surprised that he had taken note.

"Seriously? God, you're the best study-buddy ever!" You immediately shifted onto the floor, cozying into the plush area rug as Akaashi cued up the first animated film.

He chuckled - a low rumbling rasp that did funny things to your equilibrium these days. "At the rate we're accruing all-nighters, calling me a 'study-buddy' is practically an insult to my scholarly dedication."

"Oh, I'm sorry - should I call you Keeeiii-jiiiii Sensei instead?" you quipped with a theatrical bat of your lashes.

His only response was an exaggerated roll of eyes as he settled in beside you, near enough for your shoulders to brush with each intake of breath. The movie flickered to life, casting the living room in bursts of jewel-toned light and shadow.

Though you tried valiantly to remain attentive and absorb the artistry of the acclaimed anime, you gradually became ensnared by heavy lidded drowsiness as the opening scenes played out. Something about the ambient patter of rain, the easy cadence of Akaashi's breathing beside you, it all lulled you into a deeply contented state far too cozy to resist.

At some point, you must have drifted off entirely because you startled back to awareness cradled in Akaashi's arms as he carried you down the hallway to your bedroom. You instinctively nuzzled against the solid plane of his chest, relishing the sandalwood cologne and clean linen scent enveloping you both.

Akaashi went very still for a suspended moment, the muscles in his arms tensing almost imperceptibly around you. His jaw worked briefly before he spoke in a hushed murmur pitched low enough not to disturb the night quiet.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you," he rumbled, negotiating the last few steps into your bedroom with that same liquid grace he possessed. "You looked so peaceful, I wanted to get you somewhere more comfortable to sleep."

You peeled open one heavy-lidded eye, reflexively cataloging how the silvery moonlight gilded the elegant planes of his face, casting his stormy irises in softer grays. Even sleep-addled, you recognized the thrilling intimacy of being gathered against Akaashi's solidly muscular frame like a lover's embrace.

The staccato pounding of raindrops against the windows intensified into a deafening roar as the storm system raged outside. You shivered involuntarily, rubbing your hands along your arms despite being cocooned in one of Akaashi's worn university hoodies that smelled intoxicatingly of sandalwood and clove.

A massive crack of thunder boomed directly overhead, causing you to flinch violently. Unconsciously, you scooted infinitesimally closer to where Akaashi sat beside you on the floor - back against the couch as you pored over notes and textbooks strewn across the coffee table.

He paused, keen eyes flickering over to study your tense form briefly before returning his focus to the biochem flashcards you were meant to be reviewing. A few beats of weighted silence passed, punctuated only by the howling winds.

Then, with a blinding flash, every lamp and light fixture extinguished - plunging the apartment into absolute inky darkness.

You couldn't help the tiny whimper that scraped up your throat as you froze, pulse thundering wildly in your ears. From the void beside you came the rustle of movement, callused fingers tenderly circling your wrist.

"Hey...you're alright," Akaashi's deep timbre washed over you, resonant and reassuring even without being able to see his features. "Just a power outage from the storm. We have candles and battery lamps, don't worry."

You bobbed your head numbly, unconsciously leaning into the warmth and solidness of his presence beside you. Akaashi seemed to register the slight tremors rippling through you because he shifted nearer until your thighs were flush, cocooning you in his orbit.

"Give me a moment to find the emergency lights," he murmured, thick lashes brushing your knuckles fleetingly before he retreated.

You heaved a shuddering breath, internally willing your racing heart to slow. The pounding rain and occasional crackling bursts of thunder sounded more ominous in the yawning darkness, sending fresh prickles skittering down your spine.

Just when you felt on the precipice of panicking, Akaashi's low tenor carried over from behind the sectional.

"Got it."

Momentarily, a warm golden glow began emanating from the kitchen as he lit an array of utility candles and lanterns. He reappeared bearing several flickering flames and a fleece blanket tucked under his arm.

You shakily exhaled in profound relief at the sight of him - your safe harbor. Without preamble, Akaashi settled right beside you on the floor, draping the heavy fleece comforter over both of your laps before tucking you against his side.

"Better?" he murmured gently.

You could only nod, nuzzling deeper into the solid warmth of him while the flickering candle flames cast his striking features in dancing shadows and light. Akaashi maneuvered his long limbs until you were nestled into his embrace, his chin grazing the crown of your head.

Minutes ticked by, your thundering heartbeat gradually receding to a more sedate cadence in tandem with the rhythmic rise and fall of Akaashi's chest beneath your cheek. You allowed your eyes to drift shut, savoring the cocooning sanctuary of blankets, flickering candelabra, and his intoxicating spice-and-cedarwood cologne.

"This reminds me of being a kid and having sleepovers during thunderstorms," you mumbled groggily against his solid frame.

A rumbling chuckle reverberated beneath your palms where they rested over his heart.

"Is that so? I can't say I have many nostalgic memories of making pillow forts and telling ghost stories with friends."

You cracked open one eye to peer up at his striking silhouette, mouth tugging in a bemused smile. "No? I suppose actively seeking out haunted places for volleyball practice with Kou was more your style."

Akaashi snorted softly, letting the gentle teasing roll off him with fond exasperation. You drank in the way the muted candlelight played over the elegant slopes of his profile, heartbeat catching at the tenderness reflected in his storm-cloud irises. Quite abruptly, it struck you just how closely intertwined you were sprawled together.

Your nose was mere centimeters from grazing the stubbled hinge of his jaw as your gazes locked and held. A kaleidoscope of expressions flickered across Akaashi's face too quickly to decipher - tender longing, surprise, the quietest yearning. You felt simultaneously emboldened and paralyzed by the magnetism charging the scant breaths separating you.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip instinctively and you were powerless to stop your own from mirroring the motion. That simple flick of movement brought your shared awareness crashing into riotous clarity.

"Y/N..." Akaashi's murmur vibrated over your swiftly warming skin like the rumble of oncoming thunder.

More words seemed to tether on the tip of his tongue, weighted and unspoken. Instead, he slowly inclined his face nearer - silently beseeching for permission with those piercing steel-grey irises. Your own eyes fluttered shut, tilting up to meet him halfway in quiet invitation.

The roar of the raging storm outside dimmed to a distant thrum as Akaashi closed the last hairsbreadth between your parted lips. His mouth slanted over yours in a slow, exploratory glide of searing heat. An electrical current jolted through you, catalyzing an invisible spark that ignited something molten and cataclysmic threatening to engulf you both in its fervor.

The gentle rasp of Akaashi's stubble feathering your cheek contrasted exquisitely with the velvet glide of his mouth moving in unhurried exploration across yours. You sank feverishly into the intimate glide, emboldened by his smoldering patience to tease the seam of his lips with a flick of your tongue.

He rewarded your ardor with a low rumbling exhale, immediately deepening the lush kiss and cradling your nape to tilt your head to a more devouring angle. The hand spanning your lower back scorched through the thin cotton barrier, urging you closer until you were sprawled fully across his powerful thighs.

A rush of trembling desire flooded your veins at the dominance of his hold, the tender way his other palm cradled your flushed cheek as if you were something precious to be cherished. You curled your fingers against the taut muscles sheathed by his t-shirt, absorbing the staggering heat radiating from him in waves.

Gradually, the leisurely sensuality of exchanging openmouthed kisses in the flickering candlelight evolved into something rawer, more heated. Akaashi's normally implacable control began shredding away as your tongue tangled with his in delirious cadence, exchanging breathy moans between slick slides of intimate friction.

His broad hands roamed in smoldering exploration - tracing the feminine dip of your waist, palming the flare of your hip in a commanding grip that sent your head spinning. When his calloused thumb traced the underside curve of your breast, you gasped into his mouth - entire body arching wantonly against the rigid line of his arousal.

The barest thread of sanity had you breaking away, reeling for oxygen in harsh pants against the glistening angle of Akaashi's jaw. His quicksilver gaze watched you through a lust-dazed haze, pulse fluttering wildly beneath his flushed skin where you cupped the column of his throat. Slowly, reverently, he turned to feather a trail of searing kisses along your quickening pulse point.

"Keiji..." you whimpered, fingers spasming against his chest when the velvet heat of his mouth found the juncture of your shoulder, teeth grazing tauntingly. "I can't...we should—ah!"

The needy whine sheared off as he sucked a blistering mark just below your clavicle, tongue flickering to soothe the hot sting of overstimulation. His knowing hum ricocheted straight to your molten core, heavy-lidded eyes lifting to pin you in place with fathomless yearning.

"We can stop whenever you wish," Akaashi rasped roughly against your damp skin, callused palms smoothing inescapable paths down your trembling body. "But I personally have no intention of going slowly after wanting this for so torturously long..."

You swallowed thickly, sanity careening precariously as his midnight timbre ghosted like sin over the swell of your breasts, lips mapping a scorching path lower with every inhalation. The last coherent thought filtering through ribboned into embers as Akaashi pressed you back onto the plush shag rug - moonlight and swaying candleflames framing his predatory form hovering above you.

"If I have my way, we won't be stopping until I've learned every exquisite sound you make," he whispered, nimble fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your borrowed hoodie. "Until you're utterly ruined for anyone else, only ever remembering how it feels to be loved by me."

A keening whimper rose unbidden in your throat, hips canting instinctively as his callused palms glided over the exposed expanse of your midriff. Akaashi's answering smirk was pure wickedness, the promise of a reckoning looming in his molten stare as his hands traveled further upwards.

"Let me show you how badly I've been craving you..." he murmured, palming your breasts in a kneading caress that left you gasping and arching wantonly. When his thumb grazed the pebbled peaks, you arched mindlessly into the delicious friction, eyes drifting shut with a low moan. Akaashi's rumbling chuckle rippled over your skin, then his scorching mouth was descending to follow his deft hands.

Your spine bowed when he took one nipple between his lips, rolling and tugging it until the pleasure was near-blinding. Akaashi's name tumbled from your lips in a fevered prayer, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his broad shoulders. His free hand grasped your hip in a firm hold, pinning you to the rug as his mouth continued its ruthless assault on the other pebbled bud.

You squirmed helplessly against the searing contact, panting for air as your blood boiled. All the while, Akaashi never faltered in his meticulous attentions - suckling and grazing his teeth until the ache coalesced into a desperate throbbing.

"Please..." you finally cried out, nails scoring his shirt with desperation.

Akaashi relented at last, raising his head with a wet pop to regard your wrecked state. His eyes flashed, mouth curving into a devastating smirk as he pressed a tender kiss to the center of your sternum.

"So pretty when you beg..."

Before you could even process his words, he was lowering his mouth between your trembling thighs - callused palms prying them wider apart. You keened at the first slick sweep of his tongue over your clothed core, fingers fisting desperately into the plush rug.

"F-fuck..."

The profanity spilled unbidden from your lips, incinerated by the white-hot sensation of Akaashi lapping greedily between your legs. His dark hair fell in silky disarray, obscuring his face where his nose nudged against your swollen bud. A growl rumbled up his throat as his tongue flattened against the soaked fabric.

"These need to go..." he mumbled, already reaching to slide your shorts and panties down your trembling legs. You barely had a moment to process his intent before his scorching mouth was descending upon the throbbing flesh, lapping and sucking until your entire body shuddered with need.

You writhed helplessly, head falling back onto the rug with a strangled cry. Akaashi's groan vibrated against your core, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he devoured you. His tongue swirled and plunged, driving you into a frenzy of pleasure so intense you felt your entire being shattering.

The world blurred and warped into a shimmering prism of sensation as he sucked mercilessly on your clit, the sharp scrape of his stubble against your inner thighs sending sparks ricocheting through your system. You keened, bucking helplessly against his merciless mouth.

"God, right there!"

Akaashi seemed to drink in the frenzied praise, doubling his efforts until your vision whitened at the edges. He growled possessively, nipping your swollen bud just as his fingers slid through the dripping mess to find your aching entrance.

One blunt digit plunged into your quivering core, then two. You were already clenching tightly around the welcome intrusion, riding the knife's edge of a bone-deep orgasm. Akaashi curled his fingers, seeking that elusive spot as his lips suctioned ruthlessly.

It only took a few expert strokes of his digits and the wicked swipe of his tongue before the world disintegrated. Your spine bowed violently, a scream tearing from your lungs as pleasure detonated along every nerve. Akaashi kept pumping, coaxing you through wave after wave of pulsing heat.

Gradually, you came back down to earth in a boneless puddle - heart racing and muscles trembling. Akaashi's dark hair was a complete wreck, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as he watched you through thick lashes. The corner of his mouth lifted, lips glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he murmured hoarsely, leaning down to drag a slow kiss across your trembling abdomen. You whimpered at the tender contact, fingers sliding into the silk of his locks.

When he pulled back, it was only to peel his shirt over his head - revealing the sculpted planes of his torso in all its glory. Akaashi's eyes flashed as he watched your appreciative stare drinking in the sight, his cock visibly twitching in his jeans.

He surged up to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss, tongue swirling against yours with a renewed fervor. You tasted the musk of yourself lingering on his mouth, the heady rush of sensation making you arch against his body.

Your hands roamed hungrily, mapping the dips and ridges of muscle along his back. When they drifted lower, he groaned low in his throat as you palmed the stiff line of his arousal through the denim. Akaashi's own hands were busy divesting you of your remaining clothing - shoving the hoodie up to expose the curves of your breasts again.

You squirmed, grinding against the rigid pressure as the tension rapidly spiraled towards unbearable. Akaashi's jaw tensed, a muscle feathering in his cheek as his nostrils flared. He broke the kiss to reach down and roughly free himself, hissing at the sensation.

Your lips parted on a silent gasp as you took in the sight of his cock. Even the first few inches jutting out above his fist looked painfully thick, a bead of precome welling at the tip.

Akaashi met your gaze, a flush staining his cheeks as you watched him stroke the swollen flesh. His stormy eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide and glimmering with restrained hunger.

"Is this what you want?" he rasped, voice fraying at the edges as his cockhead nudged the slick folds. You bit your lip, arching closer as he dragged his length along the slit - coating himself in your arousal. "You need to tell me if it's too much, okay?"

"Yes...please, Keiji..."

Your head fell back with a broken moan as he slid into your tight, fluttering entrance inch by inch. Akaashi's mouth fell open on a groan, hips stuttering when he finally bottomed out.

The delicious stretch of him filled you completely, every ridge and vein pulsing inside your walls. Your nails scored his back as you shifted restlessly, acclimating to the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

Akaashi exhaled shakily, nuzzling your neck as his palm skated down your stomach to find your throbbing clit. His hips began rocking gently, pulling out to the tip before sliding back into the welcoming clutch of your walls.

You clung to him, shuddering and moaning at the incredible friction. The air grew heavier, more charged with each deliberate glide - the wet sound of your coupling ringing obscenely. Akaashi's mouth was hot against your flushed skin, tongue sweeping out to taste the salt.

His hips gradually gained momentum, driving deeper until you were nearly delirious with pleasure. The room spun, every nerve singing. When he adjusted the angle to hit the sensitive spot deep inside, a breathless cry tore from your throat.

"God, right there, please don't stop!"

The command was punctuated with a roll of your own hips, seeking the delicious friction. Akaashi growled, teeth nipping your jaw as he drove into you harder - his thumb circling your clit faster.

Your second orgasm slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You screamed, eyes screwing shut as the blinding pleasure ricocheted through your veins. Your walls clamped around his shaft, milking him with a spasm.

With a guttural curse, Akaashi's hips stuttered and his cock pulsed violently. You felt the drag of him sliding out, then the hot splash of his cum coating your abdomen. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his glassy, lust-addled stare.

He braced his weight on trembling arms, dipping his head to capture your lips in a deep, soul-stealing kiss. Your tongues tangled languidly, sharing breathless little gasps and moans. When he finally broke away, it was only to press a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

"You are so beautiful..."

His reverent murmur ghosted over your skin, making your chest clench. You carded your fingers through the silky locks, smoothing his hair back. Akaashi's eyelids drooped, savoring the contact before lifting them to reveal that same intense tenderness.

You could feel yourself getting lost in the stormy gray, drifting closer. His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, pausing with his lips a hair's breadth from yours.

"Can we do that again?" he murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing about his mouth.

Your laughter pealed through the darkened room, bright and free. You felt lightheaded with elation, heart brimming.

"As often as you want," you promised, nipping playfully at his lower lip. "Although I hope there are some positions other than missionary..."

"I'll give you all my best ones," Akaashi rumbled, his expression turning positively sinful. "Over the couch, in the shower, bent over the kitchen table...every surface in this apartment..."

You hummed thoughtfully, running a teasing fingertip along the curve of his jaw. "What about the bed?"

His eyes sparkled, the corner of his mouth quirking. "Especially the bed."

You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss - the last rational thought to filter through ribboning into a whisper.

"It's a date, then."

bonus:

The door rattled violently as a sudden pounding echoed through the apartment. You and Akaashi froze in naked surprise on the living room couch.

"BABY SIS! YOU IN THERE?! I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE!" Bokuto's frantic bellow reverberated down the hall, accompanied by more insistent knocking.

Your eyes widened in panic as Akaashi hurriedly grabbed a throw blanket, shielding your bare forms just as the front door burst open. Framed in the doorway stood Bokuto, drenched from head to toe and illuminated by the beam of a flashlight clutched in one hand.

"There you are! Are you okay?" His wild eyes swept the room before locking onto you huddled against Akaashi's equally undressed form on the sofa. "I knew how freaked out you get during big storms so I rushed over as soon as the--"

Bokuto's words sheared off abruptly as the realization visibly slammed into him. His owlish gaze bounced between you and Akaashi slack-jawed, the flashlight beam spinning dizzily. You shrank back, clutching the blanket modestly as a blistering blush consumed your face.

Akaashi, damn him, simply held Bokuto's shocked stare with infuriatingly placid nonchalance.

An eternity seemed to stretch in that crackling, awkward moment. Finally, Bokuto swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing.

"I...I'll umm...I'll just..." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder before slowly pivoting on his heel.

Silently, with exaggerated care, Bokuto began shuffling backwards out of the apartment - gaze studiously averted and mouth still agape. When he reached the door he briefly met Akaashi's unflinching stare one last time before whirling around and bolting.

The door slammed with a rattling boom, leaving you and Akaashi alone once more amid the flickering candles in a weighty hush.

You chanced a sidelong glance at Akaashi, unable to bite back the somewhat hysterical giggle bubbling up.

"Well...I suppose there are worse ways for him to find out we're...you know..."

Akaashi merely hummed, mouth kicking up in a wry half-smile as he tugged you snugly against his chest once more.

"Indeed. Though I must admit, I've never seen Bokuto-san's typically energetic demeanor so effectively stunned into silence."

Laughing helplessly, you nuzzled into the sleep-warmed crook of his neck - delighting in the simple intimacy of being wrapped up with the man you adored after the mortifying interruption.

"Should we be expecting the shovel talk next time he comes barreling in?" you teased lightly.

"Undoubtedly," Akaashi rumbled, fingertips trailing patterns along the exposed expanse of your back that raised goosebumps. "Just another family bonding moment to look forward to."

You hummed contentedly, sinking deeper into his solid embrace as the rumbling storm outside at last began tapering off to distant echoes. A new dawn was cresting over the horizon, heralding uncharted beginnings filled with promise.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader smut #akaashi keiji smut #akaashi keiji x reader smut

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iateyourparents · 10 months

Text

wiping kisses | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you decide to prank your boyfriend with wiping his kisses.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language)

an: i present to you colby’s version of wiping kisses! here’s sam’s version!

pictures are from pinterest:)

Your plan wasn’t exactly easy but you were determined. Your goal was to prank Colby.

You saw a tik tok where a girl pranked her boyfriend by wiping places where he kissed her. And you decided that you need to try it on Colby.

One thing about your boyfriend was that he was very affectionate. One of his love languages was touch and kisses so you knew he probably wouldn’t like you wiping his kisses. But you still decided to tease him.

You already knew it wouldn’t be an easy task - hell, you loved kissing him as much, if not more, as him, so just a single thought about wiping those places was difficult.

But you liked challenges so why not?

So here you were, sitting on a couch and busying yourself on your phone while Colby was editing in your sharing bedroom. You knew him like the back of your hand and from his groaning coming from upstairs you knew that no longer than five minutes later he will come to you, ask what to order for lunch and sit next to you just to ‘sneakily’ make his way into your arms.

It always looked like this on his days off.

True to your words, whole two minutes later he was hovering over you with his phone in hand.

“I will order lunch for us. What would you like?” he asked.

“What about some pasta?” you looked at him with smile which he reciprocated and nodded.

“Sounds good to me, baby.” then he sat next to you and started ordering on his phone “Should be here in thirty.” he stated.

“Alright, do you want something to drink?” you asked quickly when he tried to kiss your cheek and then you stood up and started making your way to the kitchen.

“Water, please.” you heard him shouting from other room.

You took water and your favorite drink from refrigerator and made your way back to Colby.

When you gave him his bottle and sat next to him, he thanked you quietly and kissed your cheek.

It took everything in you to lift your hand and wipe the place off.

Colby didn’t seem to notice anything weird and just placed his hand around your shoulders, leaning into you.

Next time he kissed you was maybe five minutes later. He just lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed said shoulder. And this time he noticed you wiping it since you had to change position to reach your hand there. He furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing when you hugged him again.

Couple of minutes later and he placed his arms around your waist to lift you and place you on his laps so now you were straddling him.

You placed your hands behind his neck but didn’t do anything else even though you knew he wanted you to start a kiss. He finally was done with waiting and started placing little kisses all around your face and when he stopped and you wiped all places he touched with his lips, he knew something was off but decided to keep quiet and see what will you do next.

But when you did nothing apart from smiling softly at him, he placed a delicate kiss on your lips just to deepen it a moment later. You reciprocated it but literally a second after you stopped kissing you wiped off your lips with the back of your hand.

“Is everything okay love?” you could see concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, why?” you asked innocently.

He shrugged “I don’t know, you seem…kinda off?”

“No, I’m okay.” you assured with a smile and laid your head on his shoulder.

He still wasn’t convinced but decided to just kiss side of your head. Again, you wiped it.

“Okay, what did I do?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and tilted it “What do you mean?”

“You’re wiping my kisses off..” he whined.

“I do not?” you faked confusion.

“Y/n.” his ton was lower and you knew you were testing his patience.

“What?”

“Stop it” he kissed your nose and when you tried to reach your hand there he caught your hand in the air then doing the same to your other hand “What’s going on?”

“Nothi…”

“Don’t even try lying love.” he interrupted you and you pouted. Well, you kind of achieved your goal, he was irritated but you also felt bad seeing him upset.

“Alright” you smiled softly kissing his nose “I saw this prank with wiping kisses on tik tok and decided to do it on you.”

Colby analyzed your words and then shook his head with small smile.

“You’re lucky I love you so much because right now I want to throw you into cold water.” you only laughed at that. Then you kissed him and well, he no longer could found it in himself to even try to be mad at you.

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #sam and colby #snc #prank #katrina stuart #sam golbach

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rukunas · 2 years

Text

angsty?? deku sucks here (sorry don’t kill me)

“So?” His hands clasp together, steepled in anticipation. “What did that extra get you? Flowers? Chocolates?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on.” Dynamight smirks. “I need to know so I can get my girl something better.”

You scoff as you place the bouquet of fresh red roses in a vase on his desk, courtesy of his new model girlfriend. The note, marked with a perfect lipstick stain, taunts you. “Is it a competition?”

“When it’s with Deku?” Dynamight flashes his canines. “Yes.”

“You’ll win either way. I wasn’t lying. He didn’t get me anything.” You do your best to keep the vitriol out of your voice, but there’s still a sharpness hidden in your tone.

Bakugo catches it, smile disappearing and his brows pinching together in an uncharacteristic concerned frown. “Oh… That case from the Commission is probably kicking his ass right now.”

“Yeah.” You shrug stiffly. “Enjoy the flowers.”

You feel like a bitch. Dynamight is right— you’ve seen how much Izuku has been working, spending late nights at his office, traveling abroad, meeting with some big officials in the government. You even told him to not worry for Valentine’s Day.

So, why were you mad? You had no right. And yet, you thought…

Buzz.

Your phone: Sorry baby, will make it back late 2nite :(( Don’t wait up on me

Well. It didn’t matter what you thought.

The day seems everlasting, annoyingly so. You would know— having to watch each of your coworkers get their own little presents and cards throughout the day. It would be just as bad if you went home and swiped through your phone all day, watching couple after couple post about their date plans. Fuck it, you’ll just stay back in the office and work ahead, it’s not like you have anything else to do.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” A gruff voice echoes from the hall.

“Why are you here?” You shot back, eyeing the hero who leans against your door frame. You recall when you first started working for Bakugo as his assistant, nervous to even look at him in the eye. Now, you openly glare at him. “Your date is at 8. It was hard as hell to get that reservation, you better not waste it.”

“She’s busy, said it in the note. Where’s your date?”

“He’s busy.”

He hums lowly before looking away, staring at the clutter on your desk. Precious hero figurines that you’ve been collecting for years are propped up in poses, along with a picture of you and Izuku. It was from so long ago, you barely remember the memory.

“Would you—” He starts.

“Can I—”

Silence takes over as the two of you interrupt one another.

“Sorry. You go.” You gesture at him to continue.

“Come with me. For dinner.”

“Me?”

Maybe it’s an illusion, but you swear the tips of his ear go pink. “You said it yourself. I can’t miss that reservation. And you said you don’t have plans…”

“Okay.”

“Seriously?” He sounds surprised. It makes your lips curl upward, followed by a breathless laugh.

“Why would I say no to free dinner?”

“I never said I was paying.”

“Oh, shut up, Katsuki.” It was not an illusion, you conclude, watching as his cheeks turn the same color pink as his ears. It takes you a moment to realize you said his given name.

“Alright. I’ll start the car.” He turns to walk out. “Check your desk before you go.”

“Huh?” Too late— he’s disappeared around the corridor.

Suspiciously, you scan your desk. Maybe he left some form that needed your signature? A PR proposal? But nothing seems to be out of order…

Wait. You pause, breath catching as you find the one thing that definitely was not there before. The Limited Edition All-Might Golden Figurine—the figure that was one of the ten ever made, and one that you’ve always dreamt of getting your hands on— stands boldly at your desk. You don’t know how you missed it, not knowing when it was placed there. You feel warmth bloom at your chest, knowing the one person who’d given it to you.

With hands still shaking in excitement and awe, you send out a text: I love you and I love the gift! Thanks baby!!

You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you pack your things into your bag and put on your jacket. As you do so, your phone buzzes. A happy sigh flutters from your lips as you rummage through your purse to grab it. You knew he’d get you something! He wouldn’t have forgotten Valentine’s Day! And he’s gotten you the best gift you have ever gotten—

?? What gift?

You roll your eyes at his faux cluelessness, moving to take a picture of the figurine. But, as you do, you catch the note stuck to the bottom of it.

The handwriting isn’t Izuku’s. Though, you recognize it immediately.

Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope I won.

#incoming tag spam #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo angst #katsuki bakugou #katsuki #bakugo #mha #mha bakugo

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starseungs · 4 months

Text

take a shot. ksm.

kim seungmin x fem!reader — it really shouldn't take a genius to figure out that you and your co-star didn't get along. you knew kim seungmin. you knew how life functioned despite the cameras. and you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

genre/s — drama, angst, fluff, a sprinkle of comedy, actors au, enemies to lovers, slowburn • 19.4k words

warning/s — y/n gets referred to with she/her pronouns, profanity, implied death taken lightly (humor purposes), miscommunication to too much communication, y/n easily gets into a bad headspace, inaccurate depictions of filming a movie, the angst is strong = the fluff is strong, other idols are mentioned as characters along with skz members, mentions of alcohol in a scene

note — my longest fic yet !! it also took me so long to finish this (like three weeks i believe) and there were some struggles that happened in the making of this, but it turned out to be my most favorite work ive done ever. thank you for the people who patiently waited for this since the teaser, and remember that reblogs & feedbacks are greatly appreciated 🫶 i hope you enjoy the read !!

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

00 : ZERO.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The car remained silent despite your words of confusion. You felt as though your world had come to an extreme halt, giving you a whiplash as the buzz of the road outside continued to pierce through your ears. There was nothing else to keep your mind away from the absolute bomb of news that was just given to you; your manager had turned it down before uttering the horrid sentence that brought your untimely demise.

The car may have kept on with its task of moving forward—but you were stuck frozen in place.

“You’re joking.”

Your world fell on seemingly deaf ears. The man up front, steering the wheel, rendered himself mute to your growing distress, finding the busy traffic of city life interesting enough to keep his eyes glued. But the urban chaos didn’t distract you one bit from brewing a storm of gunpowder inside your throat.

And just like that, a ghost of a click was heard.

“No—please tell me you’re joking,” you voiced out, tone betraying your attempts at keeping things respectful. It soon came to your attention that the effort was of no use, as your manager still chose to keep his peace. “Changbin!”

The car swiveled a bit off-lane for a second before returning to its correct course. Normally, such an abrupt action by a vehicle would concern you, as you would argue that you were still much too young to suffer at the hands of a road accident, but no such thoughts even made their way into your brain. Just like how time had stopped for you, there was no time for debating over survival either. One life-or-death situation was already enough for you.

You wanted answers, and you were going to get them.

Changbin exhaled audibly from the scare he just put both of you through. His hands shook with a slight tremor, and that was all it took for him to decide that pulling over to the nearest parking area was for the best.

“Don’t yell in the car like that!” You scoffed at his scolding, finding the whole situation ironic.

“Oh, so you can do it all the time, but I can’t?” You shot back. Changbin sighed tiredly, finally registering the extent of your agitation. "Plus, I have a perfectly good reason why I’m yelling!”

“Listen, Y/N, it’s really not that bad—”

“Yes, it is that bad!” The words spill out of your mouth in utter disbelief at his attempts at assurance. “I’m working with Kim Seungmin, of all people!”

“And that’s why it’d be fine!” Changbin argued, running a hand through his already tousled hair. You blinked at his reply, baffled by the sheer implication.

“—How?”

Changbin clicked his tongue at the question, finding it hard to digest just why you were so against working with the mentioned actor. With the mere sound of that actor’s name spat out of your mouth, one would think that he had somehow managed to offend your entire bloodline. But that kind of bitterness could only be achieved through a sour history, so you really couldn’t empathize with your manager’s mindset either.

Even you knew that this movie would be enormously successful from the director alone. Director Han Jisung’s influence and presence in the industry were not a laughing matter—in fact, you should already be trembling in anxiety just knowing that you snagged probably the biggest role you’d ever get in your whole career. He was only around the same age as you, but the winding list of his achievements was already one for the records. And yet, here you were rethinking your contract with him even before the project started.

Just because of who you were going to be acting alongside with.

“Seungmin is a nice person,” Changbin explained gently like he was coaxing a child, intentionally ignoring the way your face scrunched up at what he said. “I did my research, ok? Everyone only has high praises for him, both on and off-set. Isn’t that enough to be trusted?”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from digging a deeper hole to lie in. The answer was no—it wasn’t enough to be trusted. Now, at this point, someone would’ve had half a mind to ask why you were so sure about your vendetta against the man. If a person was so well loved in a world where cameras were pointed at them in every waking minute, then shouldn’t all the dirt be found by now, if there was any?

To that, your answer would be yet another no.

Because you knew Kim Seungmin. You knew how life functioned despite the cameras. And you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

“Turn the car around.”

Changbin’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at your demand. Surely, he had heard you now. You crossed your arms and leaned back to rest comfortably on the car seat, turning your head to face the window and glare at the world outside, continuing on with their lives like a well-followed routine.

“Y/N, this is a big opportunity—”

“I said, turn the car around. I’m not attending this cursed table reading.” You pinched the bridge of your nose to keep the incoming migraine at bay.

“You really think I’ll willingly step into a room with the devil’s incarnate? I’d rather get shot—”

01 : ONE.

“—sensing a great shot!”

Director Han Jisung nodded positively at your performance, satisfied with your initial portrayal of the female lead.

“If we keep going like this, then I’m expecting this project to be a big hit. The casting team really did their pay’s worth on this one,” the young director hummed. “Especially you, Actor Kim Seungmin. I don’t know how they managed to get through your company's walls, but I’m glad they did. You’re perfect for the role!”

You felt your eye twitch as the figure bearing the name appeared within your vision. His mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk, hastily covered up by a bashful smile. You cringed at his actions that only you seemed to see. Why was this prick acting all humble?

“Ah, I always wanted to act in one of your films, Director Han. This is more of an amazing opportunity for me than you, honestly.”

That smoothed honey voice wrapped itself around the room’s premise, charming everyone around like it was coming from an alluring siren. All except you.

Your mouth filled with a coating of spite as his next sentence echoed through your ears. His eyes locked you in as a target, a wordless challenge shooting straight at your own.

“Plus, seeing who my co-star is, I’m quite thrilled to see the end product,” Seungmin grinned with a manic glint.

Fuck. You should’ve turned that damned car around yourself. Maybe then you’d be enjoying a relaxing time in the tub, surrounded by bubbling suds of fragrant soap, instead of being a frontliner in this mental war your acting counterpart seemed to subject yourselves to. Now, you had to withstand the feeling of your body instantly going on auto-pilot after his words.

It was commendable, really—how Seungmin could take over a space of this size filled with various types of people so easily. He had major talent in that field, which greatly accentuated his acting power. Seungmin had a way with words, and while you would never be caught praising him out loud, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth deep inside the darkest parts of your brain. It was almost obsessive, the way your mind zeroed in on his presence. Even as you let the busy table chatter away into a buzzing noise that barely made its way coherently through your ears, your eyes stayed glued to the figure in front of you, carefully studying his mannerisms as he enthusiastically interacted with everyone. You weren’t someone who Seungmin’s charms would work on—instead, you felt like prey, waiting to be pounced on any second now.

Before you knew it, the table reading came to a close. You could faintly remember standing and packing your things quietly, more focused on the sudden stinging feeling you felt coming from your eyes, already threatening to water. “This is ridiculous,” you huffed in frustration. Why did you feel the need to cry like a child at this very moment?

“With the way your script is being shoved in that tiny bag, yeah, I would say that too.”

“Leave me alone, Kim.”

You hear him chuckle, causing your grip on your leather bag’s opening to become tighter, feeling the metal zipper bite at your palm. “There’s a lot of Kims here, Y/N. Be careful now; they might mistake you for being rude to them,” he chirps. Fucking chirps. Like a small bird who deserves to be doted on. Except the man before you was neither small nor deserved to be doted on—Kim Seungmin would never be described in any of those words in your world.

“Right. Since they’re also talking to me right now,” you scoffed back. Thankfully, that seemed to keep the tears at bay for now. You refused to break down in front of the most infuriating man in your life.

“Still stuck up as ever,” he sighs. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at his comment. You? Stuck up? If anything, that would be him! “This would be our first piece together after that charity drama our acting academy did way back a few years ago, so would it kill you to be civil?”

Ah. There it was. The infamous acting academy.

JYP Academy of Theatrics was admittedly one of the most successful acting academies in the country, known for producing many big name acts throughout its years of operation. Every aspiring actor has probably gone through the phase of wanting to be part of the academy’s carefully limited population of trainees—you included.

You remember the first time you brought up your plans on becoming an actress to your parents; their apprehensive faces telling you to try going to an acting academy first before giving up everything and running towards your dream blind. Young you didn’t realize the underlying implication that your parents were expecting you to be discouraged and give up on your thoughts of becoming an actress for good. Instead, you aimed high with the thoughts of their support, confidently applying for JYP Academy.

To your parents’ surprise, you passed both rounds of the screening, becoming a full-fledged acting academy trainee at one of the most prestigious places for it. It was also where you met the thorn in your life that was standing before you at the present.

“And frankly, I’m looking forward to this. So can we not ruin the mood on set?” He had the nerve to add. That was all you needed for your last string of restraint to snap.

“Why? So you could enjoy the power trip of watching me fumble around like a headless chicken after getting scolded a thousand times for my horrible acting skills?”

“What?”

You watched as Seungmin’s face morphed from exhaustion into a look of confusion at what you had just said. However, you knew better than to give him the benefit of the doubt—so you continued to shoot your bullets at him.

“I know you, Kim Seungmin,” you motioned towards him. “Don’t you dare think I’ve forgotten your days at the acting academy, especially that damned charity drama. But consider yourself lucky, since I won’t drag your ass down this time, Golden Boy. In fact, watch me shine on set even if it’s against your will or whatever is going on in that ego of yours, because I refuse to bow down to you. Things may have been different seven years ago, but I’ve grown since then. So if you want to prove to me that you have to, then know how to keep your mouth to yourself around me.”

After your little round of firing the pent-up rage inside of you, you snatched your bag from the table and stormed out of the room without another word. You had half the mind to worry if anyone had heard your little squabble with Seungmin, but you were already too far down the hall to go back and check, risking a blow to your conscience if ever you tried to go back. You only had the fact that you had managed to keep your voice surprisingly low throughout the whole exchange to console you.

With this, you continued your trek towards the parking lot to meet your manager once again—blissfully unaware of the state in which you left your co-star back in the room.

“What the fuck just happened?”

It took everything in Seungmin to not march after you and demand an explanation for what you had just said to him. In all honesty, Seungmin was baffled. Out of all the possible scenarios he had imagined to happen when meeting you, this was definitely not one of them. Sure, you two weren’t exactly the best of friends way back in your academy years, but he had at least considered you an acquaintance.

Even then, he didn’t remember your relationship being this bad. For all the times the both of you clashed heads, he couldn’t recall a single time serious bad blood was developed. The memory of you laughing joyfully as he messed up a line in your shared scene together on a monthly evaluation was still fresh in his memories—so just where did this hostility come from? If he were to base his conclusion off your words earlier, then it must have something to do with the charity drama, and that only made Seungmin more lost.

What you said earlier did hold some truth to them—you were scolded a lot by their advisor, slash project director, but in no way did you do badly in the production. Seungmin could testify to that. After all, he was witness to the amount of praise you got from fellow trainees as they watched you act out your scenes on camera, even though his younger counterpart was jealous of all the positive feedback. So now, he really couldn’t understand where your deep-rooted bitterness towards him came from. He even gave you some tips during the times you seemingly struggled with their advisor’s vision!

“Seungmin?”

He turned over to where his name was just called, seeing his manager approach him while bowing politely towards the small number of production staff left in the room. “Oh, did I take too long, Minho?”

“Yeah, but it’s alright. I knew you were going to catch up with a friend,” Minho looked around for a bit before continuing, “Speaking of which, did she go already?” Seungmin couldn’t stop himself from clicking his tongue at his manager’s words.

“It’s a long story.”

Well, two can play that game. If you truly knew him like you said you did, then you would know that Kim Seungmin isn’t one to give up when he sets his mind to something.

02 : TWO.

You wanted to give up right at this very moment.

Today was the first day of filming for the movie you were cast in as the female lead, yet here you were, one push away from having a mental breakdown. It was your first lead role—one that you had wished on countless stars to get ever since signing a contract with your current agency. Yet, now that you actually have it, you were left unsure of whether your acting could do proper justice to the character given to you. The confidence you flared towards Kim Seungmin a few days ago was nowhere to be found right now as anxious thoughts swirled through your head instead.

When you first read the script as one of your manager’s proposals for your next project, you instantly felt like the female lead’s role spoke to you the most. The plot itself was a masterpiece, clearly right up Director Han’s alley with its sentimental undertone and themes of self-discovery. It followed the male lead, returning back to his hometown for a high school reunion after just deciding to quit his job at a well-known corporation in the city. At the reunion, he meets the female lead, whom he remembers having the biggest crush on back in his teenage years—before he moved to the city for college.

In comparison, the female lead never left their homey countryside town. She attended the nearby community college and also settled her adult life in the same area. However, that didn’t mean that what she had achieved was all she wanted to do in life. Like everyone else, she too, had her own dreams. Unfortunately, she lacked confidence in herself to chase opportunities and got stuck right where her starting line was.

And in a way, she spoke to you.

You didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps you regret running your mouth like that at your co-star during the table read. It was a moment of weakness, you tried to tell yourself. Emotional you talked too big for what you could handle, so now you were left here to deal with the consequences of your actions.

But lies had their truths too.

It was true that you wanted to shine on set—outshining Kim Seungmin was just an added bonus to the thought. You’ve spent far too long in others’ shadows, never really feeling like you had the chance to show your fullest potential. That was something you fought for constantly, starting from your days at the academy up until the present, only to have no such luck. Maybe that was why you developed a habit of becoming pessimistic at the worst times, becoming your own enemy as you fall into a pit of self-sabotage, effectively going against everything you’ve ever wished for yourself. It was a cycle of keeping yourself confused with your own decisions, and it was a frustrating process.

You could only stare from the actors’ corner on the site as you watched the crew members run around making final arrangements for today’s shoot. Normally, you wouldn’t have seen this part of the process, as actors would often arrive later on when everything was nearly set, during their actual call time. You just intentionally went early, deciding that you weren’t going to get any more sleep even if you tried, seeing as most of the previous night was spent trying to make sure you had your lines all perfected. Sleep came rough yesterday, and you had no one else to blame but your own nerves.

At least the set looked great—today you were filming all the scenes needed for the high school reunion. The place was this quaint function hall in a small town about seven hours from the capital city, the same town you would be staying in to shoot for a little less than a week. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the new environment contributed more towards your slowly diminishing confidence, feeling yourself too far away from the strong presence of individualistic urban life. A defeated sigh was all you could do in attempt to ease yourself, even the slightest.

“I’m beginning to think this is going to become a pattern,” you hear a familiar toned voice comment. “Meeting you distressed, I mean.”

You spare the figure a half-hearted glance before rolling your eyes, forcing out an appropriate greeting. Or what was appropriate in your books, anyway.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Seungmin’s face displayed his feelings of amusement, which in turn made your frown deepen. “Not even a good afternoon? That’s harsh of you, Y/N,” he says in a tone made for mockery. “You really don’t like seeing my face, huh?”

“More like, I just don’t like you, period,” you grumbled in annoyance. “Also, why are you even here this early?”

Your surprise at his punctuality was real; you were not expecting to see him on set three hours early. But maybe you should have foreseen this behavior, seeing as the Seungmin you knew back then was also one to be on time during all lessons, activities, and practices. A part of you was then thankful for the question coming off as general because if you added any more comparisons, it would’ve seemed like you held on to too much information on him from the past.

“Just because I’m the main character doesn’t mean I should be fashionably late. Would it tick you off to know that I like being punctual with things?”

“Yeah,” was your immediate reply, not needing to think about it any further. “Since now, I have to time myself to arrive just before the call time.”

Seungmin lets out a deep sigh at your words. “You don’t want to spend any more time with me than necessary, got it.” He says, then lifting a finger up to tap against his ear. “But you know, you should really learn to keep your plans away from enemy ears.”

You tried your best not to show the inner war that just sparked inside of your head—you really shouldn’t have found that small gesture attractive, but the romantic side in you swooned so easily against your will. And for what? Kim Seungmin, of all people? You really should tone down all the enemies-to-lovers content you were consuming, because this was the last thing you wanted to happen. Real life just doesn’t play out like that.

Giving him some slack and perhaps a half-assed attempt at reverse psychology, you replied with a tired tone. “I’ll agree with you on that one, so you may walk away now, Kim.”

Except that Seungmin didn’t seem to catch the memo.

“Says the one who keeps talking,” he snarks at you. “For someone who told me to keep my mouth to myself around you, you’re the one who keeps the conversation flowing.”

You rolled your eyes for the second time since starting this conversation. At this point, you were convinced that Kim Seungmin was on a mission to dislocate it. “You just have to win everything, do you?”

“It’s my charm, I suppose.”

“And I disagree. The only charm you have is that mouth of yours you use to manipulate everyone around you.”

That seemed to snap something within Seungmin. “What the hell did I ever do to you?” He spits out furiously. “I would’ve already sued you for defamation if you acted like this around everyone else, so you should be thankful that I’m being tolerant of your attitude right now.”

“Thankful? Why would I be thankful?” Was your baffled response. “You know, I’m starting to believe that you don’t remember what you put me through all those years ago at all, and it’s only making me more upset that you seem to hold no remorse whatsoever.”

“If it’s that bad, then go ahead and tell me!” Seungmin hissed in an attempt to keep his voice down and not cause a scene. “I don’t have time for this roundabout game you have going on, and honestly, neither should you. We have a high-profile movie to film, and I would never let whatever this is ruin the hard work of a hundred people—so get your head out of your ass and either clench your teeth and save the working environment we have or be a dear and solve this issue with me right now.”

Now you were just barely containing your rage. It was at this point that you realized that Seungmin wasn’t faking anything; and that made it sting a lot more in your already scarred heart. Of course, someone like him wouldn’t understand why you were acting like this. Someone like him, born talented enough to be loved and praised by everyone, would never see the other side that you had to be dragged through—the side that existed all because of people like him, too.

“Fuck you, Kim Seungmin,” you croaked out through tears. “I knew someone like you would never understand.”

And you ran.

“What are—Y/N! Come back here!”

03 : THREE.

“Y/N, where in the world even are you? You need to come back to the actors’ tent right now!”

Changbin’s voice boomed through your phone’s speaker a lot louder than usual, causing you to jerk it away from your ear in pain. Well, you did deserve the scolding—after running off to God knows where in a relatively remote town you didn’t even know, you would be pissed as hell too if you were your manager. What kind of actress just leaves the set without a single thought like that?

“I swear, Y/N. Do not tell me you’re lost because I’m pretty sure I left you somewhere safe the last time I saw you,” you hear Changbin huff on the opposite end. “I can’t believe you told me that you were going to be fine on your own, and I actually trusted you. That’s it! I’m not letting you wander around the set anymore from this point onwards!”

You couldn’t help but find your manager’s rant funny, despite the clear threat being held above your head. “Really? I’m telling you that it’s almost call time, and you’re just laughing. Fine, go on your own soul-searching, or whatever it is you’re doing. I’m telling everyone you left your role to go play hooky—”

Oh, you could only wish. After your little squabble with Seungmin, playing hooky didn’t sound like a bad option. Sadly, you still had a conscience that weighed on you—even more hypersensitive to the people around it with your co-star’s earlier comment of ruining other people’s hard work. You hurriedly shook your head to get rid of the negative thoughts that were starting to plague your head once again, and instead focused on the group of trees that lined the path towards the entrance of the function hall.

“Changbin, I’m fine.”

“Damn right, you should be!” He screeches one last time before calming down. “But in all seriousness, you need to head over here now, or Director Han is going to chew me a new one. He knows my sister, and I don’t want to be berated for not doing my job properly by her of all people.”

You chuckled at the competitiveness in his voice. “Don’t worry, I just took a short walk for fresh air. You know how nervous I was earlier on the way to the set.” Changbin hummed in acknowledgement.

“And on the way to this town in general,” he teases. It didn’t last long, though, since he immediately followed up on your well-being with a soft tone. “Did the walk help? I can get you some hot tea too, if you want.”

“Look at you, finally being a proper manager,” you threw back at him, snickering as offended noises started to pour out of your phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll take you up on that tea offer. Plus, I’m just around the corner now.”

Once you saw his figure coming into view, you hung up the call and opted to wave your right arm to catch his attention. Changbin broke out into a frantic sprint towards you the minute he saw you approaching.

“Oh, thank whatever deity there is. You need to head over to the tent right now and—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, holding you still at arms length to give you a look of confusion as he scanned your face. “Did you cry? Why are your eyes like that?”

Shoot. You had totally forgotten about that for a second. “Ah,” was all you could muster in a sheepish daze. “It was just to let the nerves out, you know? It’s nothing serious.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at your excuse, making you hold your breath unintentionally. It felt as though you were being picked apart, trying to find the truth that you desperately wanted to keep hidden. Eventually, the man before you decided to let it be, sending you off with an exhausted wave.

“Hm. Alright, and it’s already going away, so it must’ve just been a light session. Try to blink it out more so that it’s long gone once you step in front of the cameras.”

You silently breathed out a sigh of relief. “Will do. Thanks, Changbin.”

“Stop being a sap and head over to the tent already,” he chuckles before sending you a comforting smile. “Good luck. I’ll just be here.”

A grateful look found its way onto your face as you walked briskly towards the actors’ tent. You should really treat Changbin to dinner after all of this is over, you think to yourself, putting on your game face and entering the enclosed area with a newly steeled heart.

Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type to be overly concerned with others’ business. While he wouldn’t exactly call himself an extreme individualist, he still did have an appreciation for community. You wouldn’t catch him dead in the act of trying to mingle with someone else’s issues if it had nothing to do with him. However, all that seemed to somehow fly out the window whenever it had something to do with you.

To him, you were a person qualified enough to be considered intertwined with his own life. Sure, he hadn’t seen you in person for years, but that still would never be able to erase the fact that you knew him behind the cameras. Actually, even worse.

You knew the person he was before he even took up acting as a career.

Perhaps that was why he was so bothered by the way you were acting with him recently. He doesn’t even recall ever being that hostile to someone since his high school days, and that alone terrified him. It was like he regressed back to the days of his youth whenever he interacted with you—and that did more harm than good. The younger him was full of teen angst that he wanted to bury deep inside the confines of his past, but the animosity you seemed to harbor personally against him made him wonder if he was truly missing important information from that era of you both.

So when he saw you walk into the tent with fading redness evident in your eyes, just right after your small fight with him earlier, he instantly felt a punch in his gut. In all honesty, he wasn’t aiming to make you cry—it just so happened that the spur of the moment was so intense that he spat out things he barely meant. Sure, they still stemmed from the truth of how he felt since he did want to make amends with you, but even he wants to kick himself for the way he worded things so out of pocket. His reaction to the situation was so childish that it would be easier to think he finally went insane from the busy schedules he’s been doing than believe that what he did was a conscious decision. He was supposed to be the mature one at that moment, reaching out to fix the issue.

And yet here he was, feeling like a child in front of you.

He wanted to approach you, apologize for earlier, and maybe another one for whatever stupidity his old self did that was clearly bad enough for his mind to completely block out entirely. If you were reacting this much, it had to be at least somewhat of a traumatizing experience. Seungmin doesn’t think he ever got that bad back then, but everyone had different perspectives—and yes, young him had a tendency to be a prick. He still had friends, though, and no one ever called him in to discuss his behavior, so it wasn’t like he was a bully.

Either way, he felt the need to apologize—and maybe get an apology back, but his legs wouldn’t let him. A part of him knew that if he did approach you at the moment, you might run away again, and it was almost time for the briefing. Instead, he settled on looking at you across the pop-up room, hoping that his silent sentiment was delivered.

Which it was not. At all.

If anything, it added more pressure to whatever nerves you were holding back. Seungmin’s gaze was so piercing to the point that you didn’t even need to turn and look to know that he had his eyes locked on you. What does he want from you now? Oh, right—you two would be filming your scenes together in a matter of about an hour or two. Maybe this was Seungmin’s way of telling you to get your shit together while finally respecting your wishes to be left alone. Improvement is improvement, so you’d leave him alone to do his thing too.

“All right, is everyone here?” A lean man in his mid-twenties walked in, asking everyone inside. There was another person following him, yet seemingly younger. “It seems so. If someone you know is late, just fill them in with the details later.”

The first man lifted up a thick bind of paper, which you quickly recognized as the script. “I’m sure everyone has read their copy of this. My name is Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m the head scriptwriter for this film. Over here to my side is Yang Jeongin, my assistant. We’re here to give you a briefing on how this shoot will go for today since Director Han and Assistant Director Lee are busy with the filming crew as of the moment.”

So they were the ones behind the script. You felt your excitement levels increase as various questions about the story’s making filled your head—but you would save that for another day. Perhaps during the crew dinner after the movie’s filming was completed.

“Today, we’ll be filming one of the first scenes in the movie—the reunion. That’s why there’s a lot of you are here right now, despite the story only really having a few recurring characters. Still, whatever your role is, I hope you take this opportunity with pride. All of you here will be treated as actors for as long as you stand on this set, so have the dignity of one. Whether you have lines or not, what I expect from all of you is your best, and only your best,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang emphasized.

The briefing continued on with the necessary information for the reunion scene, with detailed clarifications and stage directions. If you weren’t locked in on all the information being fed to you, you would’ve had half the mind to acknowledge how strikingly handsome the man was upfront. A few others did, though, and you couldn’t really blame them. The guy could be an actor himself if he wanted to be.

“And I believe that’s all for now,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Hair and makeup will take care of you all for about an hour and a half. I see that some of you already came prepared, so go ahead and touch up yourself if you want to. Main characters, you have your own booths,” he glances towards the stations at the end of the tent.

“You’ll be called up when needed. Actor Kim Seungmin, please get ready first since we need you for the entrance shots. That is all. Good luck.”

Head Scriptwriter Hwang bows politely to all of you before exiting the tent with Assistant Yang. With that, the battlefield begins.

You couldn’t remember much of what was happening other than you being sat down in front of a well-lit mirror and letting yourself become a doll in the hands of the make-up artists. The one assigned to your hair did start a short conversation about your previous works, to which you could only thank her shyly for her support. While you weren’t the most popular actress out there, you were still relatively well-known, with notable works under your belt. Seven years of experience wasn’t something someone could just laugh at, after all.

On the other hand, your co-star was a famous A-lister who was most likely getting paid significantly more than you for his role in this film. You glanced a bit to your right, where Kim Seungmin was happily chatting with his hair and makeup assignees, his voice effortlessly traveling its way over to your spot.

Ever the social butterfly, that one.

“Are you excited?” The woman assigned to your hair, who you learned was named Eunha, asked. You looked at her, startled by the sudden topic change. “Sorry—it’s just that you kept looking over at Actor Kim that it came to mind. He is quite the looker, isn’t he?”

“Oh.”

How should you even respond to that? It wasn’t like you could just go around advertising your personal beef with the man when, as far as you knew, he had a clean record on his plate. That would just be a lawsuit waiting to happen. You’d have to settle for something vague instead. “I guess,” you cringe at the evident pain in your voice.

“I’ve heard from others in the industry that he’s a great guy. You’ll have a blast filming this movie with him. I know it’s a bit awkward right now, but I’m sure you’ll warm up to him soon. After all, you’re both the lead roles.”

You’ll surely have a blast, alright—straight to the ego.

This conversation just gave you the unfriendly reminder that you had to act all lovey-dovey with this man, and if anything, it was triggering some unpleasant memories. By memories, you meant the charity drama from your acting academy days.

Your experience with that project was interesting, to say the least.

It had all started with Seungmin winning the prize of being the drama’s male lead after getting the top spot on the year-end evaluation for the junior level. Along with his prize came the privilege to choose who he would be acting alongside, only to surprise everyone when he chose you, a trainee who barely got recognition and wasn’t even in the top ten of your level. At first, you felt honored. It was like you were finally getting acknowledged, and by the top performer, no less. So you worked hard to do your part properly, wanting to repay Seungmin for his act of kindness; only for that kindness to turn out to be a mockery of you.

The difference in skill between you two was just too wide. Your shortcomings showed far too much, and your mistakes ended up being emphasized to the point that your level advisor became endlessly frustrated with you. First, it was the scolding. The woman clearly did not appreciate you holding back the entire production, especially since it was for a cause, so she would point out every problem in your acting, which quickly took a turn after you showed barely any improvement. Eventually, your advisor started to berate you—going as far as constantly referring to you as the reason the drama would fail. When you tried to raise the concern with her that it was affecting you negatively, she only brushed you off with a comment about how you should know to take constructive criticism this early to succeed in the actual industry.

At eighteen years old, you could only clench your teeth and accept your fate.

Things only got worse when you overheard Seungmin talking to his friends near the vending machines after practice one day—the same day they were talking about you.

“Dude, why did you choose Y/N to be the female lead?” One of Seungmin’s friends, Yeonjun, groaned aloud. “She’s awful at it. What? Do you like her or something?”

Seungmin only shrugged. “Not really,” he said, uninterested. “I just kept seeing her name during level advancements but never saw her doing anything to stand out. If she got this far, then I should give her a chance, no?” Yeonjun pursed his lips at the answer.

“That’s just cruel, man. The witch has it out for her now.”

“Then she can just do better,” Seungmin chuckles, taking a sip from his soda before continuing. “Not my problem anymore. If I do my role well enough, maybe they’ll pay less attention to whatever she’s doing.”

Beomgyu, another friend of his, scoffed. “So, like—you’re basically using her to your advantage.” You watched Seungmin wave him off without a care.

“Stop making it sound so bad like that,” he hums at the thought. “Let’s just say I’m saving her the embarrassment. Like you said, it was my fault she’s getting thrown around like this anyway,” Seungmin continues before tossing his empty can of soda in the trash.

And wow, did you feel like one after hearing that.

Starting from that point onwards, you held a dislike for Kim Seungmin. It did, however, give you enough spite to use as a driving force to do well in the charity drama—eventually climbing up to senior level right beside Seungmin, where you two clashed for the higher ranks before graduating and starting your own careers.

Despite this, the memory of the junior project still stayed ingrained in you, never really managing to fade away like you wanted it to, causing you to struggle in your quest to succeed in the industry. The deprecating thoughts came at the worst times, making you revert back to that eighteen-year-old who kept her tears at bay as the director shouted at her for the nth time.

It was particularly the worst right now.

“Cut! Bad take!”

You snapped your head towards Director Han, who looked so frustrated that he started to resemble a certain someone from the ghosts of your memories. Kim Seungmin was in front of you, his tongue poking at his cheek after hearing the comment. Right, you were at the set—shooting a scene. And you had just failed to say your next line.

“Actress Y/N, you can’t just keep forgetting your lines like this!”

04 : FOUR.

You really can’t go on forgetting your lines like this.

“Y/N.” Changbin sighs heavily. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

It would have been amazing if the gods could hear your plea. Your wish was fairly simple, after all—to be buried six feet under at the moment. To hell with being a popular actress; you wanted nothing more than to disappear right now after that stunt you just pulled. On the first day of filming, no less.

Should you just go dig your own hole instead?

“It won’t happen again,” you softly replied, like a child getting scolded by their mother.

Your manager could only take a deep inhale at your words. “And I believe you, I really do,” he says. “But I can’t just let this go like this.”

Of course, he couldn’t. You would do the same thing in his shoes. Changbin was a manager for an actress—an actress who clearly can’t even manage herself. Your job’s core had a simple description, and that was to act out your lines. Lines that you had to memorize, internalize, and perform. What was the point of having seven years of experience under your belt if you couldn’t even do the basics of your occupation?

“You have to understand, Y/N. It wasn’t just once, or twice, or heck—not even thrice! You had a minimum of five retakes per couple of lines, and that’s already concerning enough for me to have to intervene. Director Han was really disappointed today, and it’s only the first filming. The only reason you’re still coming back on set tomorrow is because, at the end of the day, we managed to get good takes despite the issues. So pray tell, is something wrong?”

The humble inn’s room you were staying in became devoid of sound from your lack of response, making the cicadas outside seem a lot louder than they actually were. Your sitting figure made you look small in front of the man before you, who was pacing across the room in distressed strides. In all honesty, you had nothing to say back to Changbin. As much as you trusted him like your own older brother, explaining your oh-so-stellar performance earlier would entail having to reveal your past with Kim Seungmin, which was the last thing on the list of secrets you wanted to get out. Thus, there was only one solution to your dilemma.

“Can we replace Kim Seungmin?”

Changbin’s jaw slacked. “What—him again?” He laughed humorlessly, completely baffled at your request. “And replace, you say? Y/N, at the rate we’re going, you’re the one in danger of getting replaced!”

Okay, you should’ve expected that. But the sting from your manager’s comment wouldn’t hurt any less, even if you did.

You were well aware of all of your shortcomings as an actress. The seven years you gained in this industry clearly taught you a lot of important lessons, but those same seven years barely did anything to your ability, no matter the amount of effort you desperately poured into your career. It felt like a futile attempt at pouring into a cup that had a big hole at the bottom—knowing you could be filled to the brim with the necessary factors to succeed exponentially, yet still letting everything go down the drain.

Maybe this was the wake up call you needed to acknowledge that you’re the only one holding yourself back. And you had the slight inkling that you knew all along where this whole mess stemmed from.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, even?” Changbin ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Look, if you really don’t want to tell me, then fine. I’ll respect your wishes. But you can’t expect me to understand where you’re coming from if I know nothing. Deal with how overbearing I could be, or I don’t know, just keep that in mind.”

“I understand.” You meekly nodded. “Sorry, again. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

With your vague words, Changbin eventually came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to speak about the issue today. Walking towards you, he finally accepted your decision with a light pat on the head. “You don’t have to say that to me, Y/N. Maybe to the crew tomorrow. And Actor Kim Seungmin if you want. Just promise me a better performance tomorrow, and we’ll be good.”

You chuckled dryly. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“Alright.” Your manager rolled his shoulders back, releasing the tension that built up from his pacing. “I’ll go to my own room now. Get some good rest. You need it after what happened today,” he chuckles.

“Okay, good night.”

You plastered a small smile for him, only letting it drop completely after you heard the door shut. After that, it was just you and your mind, ready to play the most depressing thoughts all through the night to beat you down once again. However, you weren’t going to fall for that today. You had already promised a better performance on filming tomorrow.

And what better ways were there to achieve both than practice until the sun rises?

Well, that surely did it’s work for you because you walked into the set the next day looking like a few years had just shaved off your lifespan. But as long as you could still function well enough to participate in the shoot, then you would consider your little sacrifice worth it.

A certain someone would beg to disagree, though.

Seungmin has never felt more concerned in his life. Just what in the world did you do all night to come out of your room looking like a literal zombie? To make matters worse, no one was even batting an eye at your less-than-ideal state! He watched you get your makeup done from across the tent with a thoughtful expression.

“Is it just me, or did Y/N get no sleep whatsoever?”

Minho cringed at Seungmin’s blunt comment. “Oh, you noticed it too?” He purses his lip, feeling uneasy. “I feel bad for her, but after the mishap from yesterday, I wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed up all night trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again. No sleep is better than no role in this industry, after all.”

Seungmin frowned at his manager’s words. That can’t be right. Sure, as actors, getting roles to play was their bread and butter—but no project was going to be worth more than their own well-being. If your condition was bad, then how were you expecting to have the proper mindset to act well? That should be simple logic.

He huffed. “I’m going to talk to her.”

Before he could even take a step forward, a strong force had already pulled him back. “Stop right there, Seungmin.” His manager gripped his shoulder in warning. “I know you mean well, but please do not do anything to agitate Actress Y/N any further.”

Seungmin turns back in disbelief. “What are you even talking about?”

“Aren’t you two close? I know how you joke around when you’re comfortable, and I’m just letting you know that this might not be the best time to do so.”

The actor narrowed his eyes at the implication being thrown his way. “You know, you’re making me out to be a major ass right now.” Minho shrugged.

“That’s because one wrong move, and you might as well be,” he sighs. “Look, all I’m saying is that what she probably needs right now is support. Someone who would give her motivation to get through the shoot today.”

Seungmin deadpanned at his manager’s sudden advice. He wasn’t expecting Minho, of all people, to lecture him about how to properly interact with others. “Exactly?” The younger of the two raises a brow. “What else do you think I was going to do?”

Minho looked hesitant for a second. “You and I both know that you’re not exactly the most—” he trails off, making random expressive movements with his hands instead. Seungmin scoffed.

“Spit it out.”

“—Motivating. You’re probably the least motivating person here.”

Seungmin visibly blanched at Minho’s admittance. Truth be told, he wasn’t expecting the older man to say anything particularly nice, but the actual reveal was just completely out of his radar.

Even when he was young, Seungmin never struggled with making friends. He’s always been well-liked by the people around him, which has made him fairly popular amongst his peers. With such a positive response from a lot of people regarding him as a person, Seungmin was clearly gifted in the art of making friends. So now, being told that he lacked the skill of uplifting others greatly confused him. If that were true, then shouldn’t he have had the opposite experience with socializing?

“I—” He stutters, caught off guard. “Do my social skills not prove to be enough for you?”

“Those are two completely separate things,” Minho barely managed to suppress a sneer. “Seungmin, you’re great at casual talk—that’s no surprise. But you also have the tendency to be dense. And that’s putting it lightly.”

“Oh.”

That would make sense. A part of him also admitted that his younger counterpart did struggle with connecting to others. Yes, he had a lot of friends, but that didn’t mean he saw all of them equally. As harsh as that may be, the old Seungmin had this unfathomable standard for people he could call friends, which he used as a strict criteria for judging others. He still kicks himself whenever he gets reminded of how big his high horse used to be, for no reason. Seungmin was more than willing to leave that time of his life at the back of his mind to collect dust. His life has been so much better without it, and he would do anything to maintain this satisfactory present he has carved for himself.

His manager chuckled. “Who knows, though? Maybe you could finally practice your empathy with this conversation. You’ve been around professional robots for far too long.”

“That sounds like an insult,” Seungmin says, expressing his doubt.

“I’m just saying it as it is.” Minho patted his back twice. “Now, I already warned you enough. If you still want to talk to Actress Y/N, then go ahead. Just know that whatever comes out of that mouth of yours is completely your responsibility, and I will not cover for you if you come out of this one with a broken friendship.”

Seungmin let the words sink in.

“There you go, all done!” Eunha exclaims, lightly pushing your hair forward to make the volume more noticeable. You gave her a thankful smile.

Eunha was someone you'd only known for two days, but she was already becoming your favorite person on set. The way she manages to lighten your mood every time made her worthy of being on the list of people you greatly appreciated, especially with how things were going for you recently. Today too, her positivity was very welcomed.

“Thank you,” you say while admiring her work. “It looks pretty today too.”

The hairstylist beamed. “Of course it should be,” she huffs in pride. “You need to be the prettiest one here on set. After all, you’re the female lead!”

You knew she didn’t mean it to be, but her words felt like little stabs to your heart. The prickly ache spread slowly, like poison that was meant to be discrete. You chuckled to offset the pain.

“Right.”

Female lead. The character you worked so hard for—only for you to also ruin the chance with your own hands. You couldn’t help but think of how ungrateful you were being, and for what? A personal grudge towards your co-star, who was being more professional about the situation than you ever tried to be? It was almost laughable how belatedly you realized that the situation was never going to be in your favor. You weren’t someone looking to be pitied, so why were you hypocritically trying to paint yourself as the distressed damsel?

Eunha sent you a troubled glance as she fixed the tools on the table. “Are you alright? I—” She sighed. “I didn’t want to point it out earlier, but I guess my concern got the best of me. The bags under your eyes looked deep earlier—Yerin did a great job covering them up, though! You don’t worry about how you’ll look on camera, but I’m just worried about your condition.”

You sheepishly scratched your arm at being pointed out. “Sorry for worrying you. I just forgot the time last night and fell asleep late. You could say I was too excited to shoot again today.”

“Well, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

You jumped in your chair, startled by Seungmin’s voice suddenly joining the space on your side of the tent. Eunha’s eyes gave you a silent apology before bowing to Seungmin and heading out of the tent, indicating that her task was finished. Your gaze fluttered toward your co-star, who was looking at you in a disapproving manner. It was then that you remembered his comment.

“And that was rude of you to disrupt a conversation that had nothing to do with you.”

Seungmin wasn’t fazed by your bite. “Why didn’t you sleep?”

“I asked a question first, Kim.” You crossed your arms at being ignored. “Also, I did sleep.”

"No, you didn’t,” he pressed on. You could feel your blood pressure rise at his insistence. “Even a twenty-minute nap could do wonders. You just look horrible.” You scoffed at the insult.

“Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear.”

Seungmin’s eyes widened comically, and you almost laughed at the sight. Almost. He looked so guilty of what he had just said that you felt the urge to tease him as revenge.

“Wait, no—”

“An explanation isn’t necessary,” you hummed. “Even if that wasn’t a joke, I could really care less right now.”

Your reply made Seungmin flail his hands around like a madman. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean anything about it,” he coughs out before composing himself after realizing how silly he was acting. “Sorry.”

“Ok. Thank you for apologizing.”

“Sure,” he trailed off. Seungmin was now unsure of what to even do.

Oddly enough, your heart warmed at his reaction. A part of you was thanking yourself for finally becoming more rational, as you thought that maybe he wasn’t so bad. Sure, your past together was still rocky territory, but you had to remind yourself that time had also passed. Seven years at that. That detail took you back to the conversation you two had back at the table reading. You remember the way you hissed at him that you had changed—what made you assume that he couldn’t do it too? Everyone was allowed to become better versions of themselves, and Kim Seungmin wasn’t exempted from that. He was but another person living amongst others in this world, after all.

Changbin was right. Seungmin also deserved an apology.

“I guess I also owe you an apology,” you say softly. “About how I’ve been towards you the whole time—it was immature of me. I hope we can continue to work well until the end of this project, like you said yesterday.”

“Now, this is just odd.”

Seungmin was now utterly lost. He recalls approaching you despite Minho’s warnings, deciding that he had enough self-restraint to not screw it up—only to end up insulting you without meaning to. But that wasn’t the confusing part.

It was your reaction.

In Seungmin’s experience, you weren’t one to let something go like that. Even back when you both were in your senior level days at the academy, a simple jest from him would set you off into flames. The you he knew would immediately choose to chew him out, hoping that he would get burned by a rogue ember of your fury for even just attempting to speak such words. But the person in front of him right now did none of that. The you in the present simply took the accidental insult and even apologized for the ones you’ve spat out over the previous days. It was a whiplash, to say the least—just yesterday he was still fighting to keep you in a flowing conversation. So, what was this he was witnessing?

“Is it?” You snicker. “Just think of it like winning. You were right. This is a high-profile project, and I’m over here messing around. I’ve prepared a better performance for you all to see today, so be rest assured.” Seungmin still wasn’t assured.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright—”

“Main characters on set!”

Damn. So that’s how it feels for your conversation to get interrupted by someone unrelated to it. Seungmin internally acknowledged your annoyance earlier and kicked the memory of himself from a few minutes earlier.

You turned back to him, tilting your head. “What was that?” Seungmin refused to admit that he found the action cute.

“No, it’s nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s have a good shoot.”

05 : FIVE.

Okay, you do not think this was turning out to be a good shoot.

You were already regretting pulling another all-nighter the day after you got absolutely no sleep. This meant that you were already nearing 48 hours of no sleep, to which you were surprised you were still even capable of functioning. You had never gone this long without sleep, and it was both thrilling and terrifying to you at the same time.

Honestly, you were already expecting to feel lethargic after the shoot yesterday, especially after staying up the entire night to master your parts and was planning to go to sleep early to make up for it. However, after getting nothing but praise from the directors and filming crew the whole day for your stellar performance that day, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your sacrificial act was exceptionally effective. A little too effective since your manager even said that your acting became much more alive than the takes you did the previous day, despite feeling the complete opposite internally.

Now, while you normally wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was peer pressured easily, it still felt really nice for your hard work to be acknowledged after the disappointing performance you had the day before. Which also led you to your current predicament—woefully repeating the same magical process that helped you gain your reputation back.

“You’re yawning an awful lot.” Seungmin raised a brow in question. “Don’t tell me that all the praise you got yesterday already got to your head, and you suddenly find all this boring.”

An irked look made its way onto your face, pinching hard on Seungmin’s arm. You watched in satisfaction as he yelped audibly at your damage, jerking away in reflex. “What the fuck, woman?”

“It’s what you get,” you say nonchalantly while shrugging. Seungmin scoffs at the response.

“Just because we have a truce now doesn’t mean you can abuse me whenever you like,” he snarls. “What happened to the Y/N who didn’t want me to talk to her unless, quote on quote, necessary?”

You cringe at the unwelcome reminder of your previous activities. “I apologized! Would you rather have me act like a total bitch again?”

“Well—no. That Y/N was a pain to deal with.”

“Then be grateful for what you have right now.”

Seungmin lets out an amused snort, crossing his arms and leaning backwards closer towards the living room’s walls, where you two were on standby. “Oh, believe me. I’m more than grateful.”

The set right now was in a cozy cottage house, designed to imitate what the female lead’s family home would look like. You had already moved past the beginnings of the main characters’ romance yesterday and were now heading into the development stage, where they spend more time together until they realize their feelings. A domestic scene in one character’s home was a popular trope—which was, of course, also included in the movie.

If today’s shoot goes well, then you only have one day left in the filming process before everyone packs up to head back to the city. Not for Seungmin, though. The male lead still had to film the first part of the movie where he quit his job at the company. You’d have to laugh at him about it on the last day.

First, you had to get through this shoot without fainting flat on your face.

It was a particularly hot day too, which made your drowsiness even worse. The rural countryside cottage didn’t have an air conditioner set up, so you had to make do with fans all over the place. But that barely did anything to cool you down, as the air around the place itself was humid. At least you weren’t shooting out in the sun today.

“Geez, my makeup might melt even before we start filming,” you groan. “That’s if my head doesn’t explode first.”

Seungmin chuckles. “Blame your character for being a sweater enthusiast. That outfit must be torture in this weather.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. The thick baby blue cardigan you were wearing felt like a punishment to wear at the moment. It was unfortunate that you felt really cute in this get-up because you wanted to trash on it so badly.

Actually, fuck it. Comfort matters more.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” you whine dramatically. “Every scene she’s had has her wearing some kind of version of a sweater. Does she not get hot at all?” You pull on your slightly weighted cardigan.

“I do think she’s plenty hot enough.” Seungmin smirks, glancing at you while waiting for your reaction.

You hummed in agreement. “She’s probably just tolerating it since it's her clothing style. I’ve had my fair share of those moments too.”

It wasn’t something you could see since you were more preoccupied with watching the staff prepare for filming, but Seungmin’s ears were slowly turning red. He took note of how his less than savory joke completely flew over your head, now leaving him to drown in the embarrassment of his original intentions.

Internally, he was already having a boxing match with himself. He thinks she’s plenty hot enough? What does that even mean? You were the only image he had of the female lead since you had her role! Seungmin wanted the ground to suddenly swallow him whole at the implication.

You, on the other hand, were fighting a completely different battle. The combination of the heat and your severe lack of sleep was becoming dangerous. You could already feel a growing pounding in your head, the world’s noise becoming more muffled by the second. It seemed like your vision wasn’t affected yet, though—and for that, you were relieved. That meant you could still stretch yourself out until the shoot was finished. You’d already done this once yesterday, so a second time wouldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong.

Seungmin’s voice as he carried out his lines in the scene seemed so far away to you already, and it had only been an hour since the cameras started rolling. Internally, you were already sounding the sirens. Something was definitely wrong—you don’t think Seungmin was supposed to sound like he was underwater.

Your co-star seemed to notice that you were out of it too, except he couldn’t exactly stop the scene as you were still conducting your parts as proficiently as you could. Director Han hasn’t called a cut yet, either. So, he settled on carefully watching you for signs. You also thought you could last until the scene was over—until you couldn’t.

The last thing you remember was a figure rushing over to you before your sight went pitch black.

“Y/N!”

“Cut!”

Seungmin felt his heart race as he dashed over to catch you from crashing to the ground. What was going on? You were completely fine a while ago. How did you end up fainting? Could it have been the heat? He didn’t think it was going to be that bad for you since he was dealing with it pretty well. The heat wasn’t exactly unbearable. So what was it?

“Actor Kim Seungmin,” D.O.P. Bang called out. “We should take her to the medic tent. Someone, call her manager.”

Seungmin had never agreed more to a suggestion in his life.

“Seungmin? What’s—” Minho’s face paled in shock at the sight of your limp figure. “Oh, shit. That’s why everyone is running around like headless chickens. Quick, let’s get her to the medics.”

Minho sped over to give the actor a helping hand on steadying you, only to be stopped. “We’re wasting so much time.” Seungmin clicks his tongue.

Everyone could only watch as Seungmin positioned his arms on your back and behind your knees, hastily pulling you up towards him in a bridal carry and speeding away to the medic’s tent. Minho’s jaw dropped at his talent’s actions before recovering from the shock and tailing him.

“Seungmin!”

“What?” Seungmin responds half-heartedly as he sets you down on the cushioned stretcher, stepping back as the medics do their job.

“You—” Minho squeaks out. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That!” He gestured towards you, still unconscious and being checked on by the medics on standby. “Did you just carry Actress Y/N?”

Seungmin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “And what about it? Did I commit a crime or something? I was just helping!”

Minho was conflicted. In all the years he had been working as Seungmin’s manager, the actor had never shown this much attention towards his other co-workers, despite maintaining an approachable and friendly image. Of course, that wasn’t particularly a bad thing—especially in an industry where caution towards everyone around you was basic common sense to prevent yourself from going down a road that would lead to your demise. The view was great up where it was high, but the fall was just as immense.

What Minho did acknowledge was your past with Seungmin. Because of that, he was inclined to think more about your friendship with his talent and how that played into your dynamic. Yet, over the course of the two days you two had been filming, he hasn’t exactly seen the kind of relationship he was expecting. There were discrepancies in what he knew about you and Seungmin, as well as gaps in the bond his actor painted a picture of. In times like these, there were only a few reasonable explanations that Minho could think of, which made him uneasy.

Something big was coming in the future—one that he needed to prepare for as early as now.

Hurried footsteps could be heard nearing the tent as Seungmin and Minho diverted their lines of sight towards the entrance, just in time to see a fairly muscular figure come in all frantic. “How is she?”

Minho immediately recognized the man from a conversation he had in the personal staff area, recalling his introduction as your manager. The former bowed slightly in greeting. “Manager Seo Changbin.” Seungmin felt his blood boil after seeing your manager’s late entrance.

“Where even were you?” He asked coldly, intentionally making his tone sharp. “You know, for her manager, you sure are practically nowhere to be found during shoots.”

Changbin splutters at the accusation. “Y/N doesn’t like it when I stay to watch! She says it’s pressuring!”

“Sure. But it’s your job to be on standby in the event that she needs you. How come you weren’t?”

“I—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A new face entered the space, who Seungmin quickly made out to be Assistant Director Lee. The second-in-hand gave him a disapproving look. “Actor Kim Seungmin, please stop lashing out at Actress Y/N’s manager.”

Seungmin felt like he was seconds away from committing arson. “I’m not lashing out if it's a reasonable argument!”

He felt someone grab a hold of him, forcefully pushing him down to sit. It was only then that Seungmin seemed to finally be conscious of how emotionally he had been acting—accepting Minho’s foresight on his actions. Assistant Director Lee, on the other hand, did not appreciate his recklessness.

“That it is, but we’re going to need you to stay calm,” he states. “The situation is sensitive enough as it is.”

Seungmin felt like he had no choice but to agree. He couldn’t risk making an unreasonable scene in such a respected project set, and knowing you, a tension-filled tent wasn’t going to be your preferred area of rest. Glancing back at your unconscious figure still being tended to, he let out a sigh to release the extra pressure in his chest.

Just what was he doing right now?

Once Assistant Director Lee saw him calm down a significant amount, he clapped to disperse the heavy silence. “Great. Now, can someone inform us when she wakes up so we can restart the shoot?”

So much for calming down, because Seungmin’s temper flared up again in an instant. “Are you kidding me?” He growled. “No, we are not proceeding with filming today!”

“Actor Kim, we don’t have enough time—”

“I’ll pay for all the expenses for the extension and rescheduling of all the remaining shoots. Put all of it under my personal bank account.”

Minho’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets in shock. “Seungmin, what—”

“I said what I said,” Seungmin continued. “Now go do it. Both of us won’t step in front of the camera for the rest of the day.”

“You can’t just decide that for Actress Y/N,” Assistant Director Lee reasoned in disbelief.

Unluckily for him, Seungmin had already made up his mind—and when that happens, he isn’t one to give up on it.

“Then we’ll tell her it’s cancelled because I’m sure as hell won’t be filming today. You can’t make her act out the scenes prepared today without me.”

Assistant Director Lee was conflicted. Taking a day off so suddenly when they’d already had everything set up was going to be such a waste—and frankly, Director Han was already on edge about it. Granted, this wasn’t the first time he’d come across this situation, and certainly won’t be the last in his time in the industry. Now, an actor telling them that they’d pay for the cost of their demand? That one was new.

Kim Seungmin was notorious in the field for being a perfectionist, so he honestly came in here expecting him to agree with their plan. Maybe he should’ve considered the rumors he’d heard around the set that Actor Kim and you were closer than they initially thought. With that, Assistant Director Lee could only sigh. He’d just have to deal with Director Han’s displeasure.

Along with being a perfectionist, Kim Seungmin was also incredibly stubborn.

“I understand,” he concedes. “I’ll inform Director Han.”

Seungmin tried not to show his surprise on his face. He didn’t think he’d actually get this result so easily, but it was welcomed. “Thank you.”

“Let us know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Assistant Director Lee chuckled at Seungmin’s firm reply before announcing his leave. The atmosphere in the tent improved as he stepped out, but awkwardness still lingered in the air. Minho dropped down to slump on a plastic chair, leaving Changbin to stand stiffly near him.

“Y/N is totally gonna kill you, dude.” Minho groans, completely letting go of formalities in stress.

Seungmin had half the mind to be embarrassed by his choices. “And to think I’m doing this all for her sake,” he scoffs good-naturedly before turning to your manager. “Did something happen before the shoot? She couldn’t have passed out like this just because of the heat today.”

Changbin scratches at his neck. “Uh, I’m not sure—”

“—It’s exhaustion,” one of the medics spoke up. “Her body seems to be completely fatigued, as well as slightly dehydrated, but that must be the heat’s contribution. Has she not been getting enough rest?”

They watched as Changbin’s face morphed into shock, completely unsure of how that could’ve even happened. “But she said she was going to bed early yesterday!”

Your manager was slowly getting on Seungmin’s nerves. First, it was his constant absence from the set. Next, it was his blatant disregard for your well-being. The last time he checked, a manager was supposed to be aware of their talent’s condition as much as possible. Any less and it would be neglect.

He narrowed his eyes. “The picture you’re painting for me is not a good one, Manager Seo.”

“What are you implying right now, Actor Kim?” Changbin pounced back, Seungmin’s tone stirring negative emotions inside him.

Seungmin refused to back down. “You know damn well.”

“Kim Seungmin!”

“Watch your mouth—”

A rustling noise interrupted the three men’s small disagreement. “Ugh,” you groaned in pain. “What in the world?”

“Y/N!” Seungmin jumps up without a second thought to rush over. In the distance, Minho and Changbin’s eyes meet in mutual speculation.

“Seungmin, sorry, but please shut up.” You raise a hand to cradle your head. “My head is pounding.”

You could vaguely make up a medic handing Seungmin some pills and a bottle of water, saying something about how you were stable enough to just need rest and hydration. The next thing you knew was feeling a hand gently take your chin to create an opening and a pill being dropped inside, along with a water bottle pressing against your lips. You gulped it down in shock.

“The fuck—” You coughed. Another hand came up again to wipe some of the water you spilled around your mouth before you pushed it away. “Kim Seungmin!”

Your co-star rolled his eyes at your dramatics. “Would it kill you to stop being so fussy?”

“Not when you’re treating me like a child!”

Changbin clears his throat, effectively stopping your bickering. “Uh—I’m going to go get us lunch,” he meekly informs you two. “The medics also already went out to get food earlier, so I think we need to get our share before it’s all gone.”

Minho nods at Changbin’s words a bit too enthusiastically for your liking. “I’ll come with him. You two can talk while waiting.”

The two of you watch as your managers dash out of the tent like cartoon characters, raising a suspicious brow at their sudden change in behavior. Seungmin clicked his tongue in annoyance before turning back to you and flicking a finger at your forehead without warning. You squealed at the added pain as Seungmin’s suppressed laughter filled the room.

“You are such an asshole!” You shriek while bringing both hands to shield your forehead belatedly.

“And your hair looks like a nest,” he replies with a snicker.

You gave him a glare at his comment, rubbing the sore spot gently. “Shit,” you whined, feeling the ache from inside your head again. “I can’t believe I fainted. How long was I out? What about the shoot? Are we resuming after lunch?”

The questions you were asking him only served as Seungmin’s reminder of his actions earlier, causing his mouth to run dry. Truth be told, even he was unsure of how to tell you everything that happened while you were away in dreamland. He couldn’t just drop the ball at you that he made sure that the shoot had been cancelled just for you to have the rest of the day to rest up. At the same time, there was practically no other way to convince you that the cancellation wasn’t your fault unless he told you the truth.

But Seungmin had already caused you enough misunderstandings to last a decade—and he wasn’t about to add another one.

“You weren’t out for long,” he told you. “I’m actually surprised you even woke up right away. The shoot’s cancelled.”

He watched you pause to let the words sink in. What did he mean by the shoot’s been cancelled? Wouldn’t that be too costly? After all, you were literally renting a place far away from the city to shoot this movie. A shoot cancellation meant an extension, which also meant new arrangements needed to be made. You curled up into a ball, wanting to evaporate into the clouds at the heat of the sun. How much more were you going to screw up everyone’s experience with this project?

“Is it because of me?” You muttered.

Seungmin felt something inside him break at how small you made yourself seem. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid, only to once again fail to prevent it. That one was on him, though—he didn’t manage to tell you right away that he was the one responsible for the shoot’s cancellation. He felt the need to chase away your negative headspace as fast as possible.

“Why do you always blame yourself first? I cancelled the shoot, so just get some more rest.” He sighs.

Your eyes snap upwards to meet his. He had got to joking. “What?” You ask, bewildered at the statement. “And they agreed? I can still continue!”

Seungmin immediately acts to lift your legs back up on the stretcher when he sees you trying to get up. He places a heavy hand on your calves to lock them in place before sending you an unamused stare. “Land a single foot out of this stretcher, and I’ll make sure the shoot gets moved to next week.”

“You can’t just do that!” Your mouth gaped open like a fish. “Do you even know how bad the cost is going to be to extend for that long?”

“I’m more than capable of shouldering the expenses.”

That single statement made your stomach drop. “You cannot be serious,” was your horrified reaction. “Seungmin, did you pay for the extension costs?”

The man before you only shrugged, like he hadn’t just dropped significant information. “What about it?” You blanched at his unconcerned attitude.

“What do you mean, what about it?” You asked, absolutely outraged. “I swear, you’ve always been like this! You think you could just play around with everything around you, since you can. Why can’t you take things seriously for once?”

It was Seungmin’s turn to look offended. “Now, when did I ever do that?”

“The charity drama!” You cry out. “Yeah, I knew all about your little plan back then. If you acted well enough, they wouldn’t pay attention to whatever mess I was making, was it? I even overheard you telling your friends you chose me to become the female lead just because you were curious about how I kept advancing levels when I barely met the standard—and there I was foolish enough to believe that you chose me for my skills!”

“I—” Seungmin stammers. “I don’t remember that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you held back a sob, feeling emotional as you poured out your inner insecurities. “Why would you? Someone of your caliber could go around bending things to your will, and no one would bat an eye since they would justify it with your talent. I’m the complete opposite, Seungmin.”

Seungmin was quite alarmed, to say the least. These were your side of the story—the side that he never got to acknowledge. He could only watch you try to keep yourself together in front of him, clearly struggling as your emotions ran wild at the release of what seemed to be years of suppressed experiences. His body was screaming at him to move and comfort you in any way he knew how, but for the first time in his life, Seungmin was completely frozen in guilt.

“I’ve lived the life below people like you. We were the ones that were always stuck in the shadows, where stepping on us became the norm. People like us were the pieces in your games of chess who couldn’t even speak out in the fear of being thrown out.” You inhaled deeply before meeting his gaze. “It was a life you would never even begin to imagine experiencing at your ability, Seungmin.”

Your words were like spears thrown at Seungmin’s heart. They all rang true in his head. He would never understand what you went through because he was part of the problem. Seungmin thought back to his past, trying to recall where it all started.

He was a young child, only ten years old, when he discovered his passion for acting. His class decided to do a play for the school festival, and he got the role of the main character completely by chance through drawing lots. Young Seungmin didn’t think of it too much and agreed out of obligation. It wasn’t until practices started that he started to take an interest in it after receiving constant praise from his classmates and homeroom teacher. This fascination only bloomed more on the day of the festival, where he found out that performing for people could be this exhilarating.

From then on, Seungmin made it his lifelong dream to become an actor. Seeing his talent in the field, his parents supported him wholeheartedly, eventually leading to them suggesting he join an acting academy to improve. The praises didn’t stop even after he joined the academy—in fact, they only doubled in frequency, making Seungmin come to the conclusion that he must’ve been some sort of prodigy. Perhaps it was due to that mindset of his that he paraded around like the world was his. To his defense, none of the adults around him saw the wrong in his behavior and even went as far as encouraging it.

It was when he graduated from the academy and started his work as a professional actor that he got humbled by all the talent around him. Everyone seemed to be on his level or greater, which completely shattered his worldview. During those times in his rookie years, he learned the importance of hard work and how much it could really make a difference. There was one time that he thought to himself—maybe this was the reason he felt so attracted to you.

You were the first person he ever associated with the difference that hard work brought. Seungmin first noticed you on the first day of intermediate level. He had gotten to that level first and thus kept an eye out for notable candidates from the beginner level. The thing is, he had never even heard of you or any of your performances—so it was a complete surprise to see you climb up to intermediate level. From then on, he observed you from afar, never really approaching. To him, you seemed plain; someone who didn’t even exude star quality. So eventually, he forgot all about you again.

Until he saw your name on the same paper as his, indicating that both of you would be in the same batch that got promoted to junior level.

The charity drama was another project Seungmin gained an unexpected opportunity from. With the privilege given to him as the top ranker for the year-end evaluations, he chose you as his female lead. All Seungmin wanted was to see what kind of shine you had as an actor, and he was rewarded greatly with your stellar performance after days of painful practices. When you were once again bumped up to senior level right alongside him, he was ecstatic. You had changed since the charity drama, and your aura started to take up more space in their small practice room. Seungmin wanted to get closer to you, but the two of you would only end up clashing every time. He guesses that you and him were just complete opposites in everything, down to your work ethic. He still tried to interact with you in any way he knew how, though—which led to his friends teasing him about his little crush on you.

Now, he couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your calves, letting his hands fall down on his sides before bowing deeply. “I’m sorry. There would be no excuse for my actions, and it’s even worse that I have no recollection of the details when I’ve obviously affected someone. I know an apology wouldn’t erase everything that has already happened, but it would be the start of my attempts to make sure it doesn’t happen again. At this point, all I can ask for is your forgiveness.”

You quickly reached out to grasp his arms, trying to pull him up from his act of remorse. “Get up—oh my god. It’s fine, Seungmin. Really. I’ve already forgiven you yesterday, honestly. My behavior also had some faults towards you, and it was unacceptable.”

“Knowing why now, I think it was more than reasonable.”

You let out a laugh at his words. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” you teased. “Now, I think the other crew members also deserve an apology from us.” Seungmin’s face paled at the reminder. Just imagining Assistant Director Lee scolding him for his audacity earlier was sending him into early retirement.

“Yeah,” he coughs. “But can we not take back the shoot cancellation? It would be so awkward for me if we did, and you still need the rest.”

“Fine, you big baby.” You pinched his cheek after seeing his childish pout. Seungmin was quick to swat your hand away, despite the burning sensation he could feel heating up his ears. “So does this mean we’re friends?”

Even if he could feel a crack form in his heart from your innocent words, Seungmin refused to show it.

“Sure. Friends.”

06 : SIX.

Being friends with Seungmin was odd.

Granted, you already got a taste of what that felt like for the two days that flew by since you two decided on a truce. However, you didn’t really feel much of a change in your dynamic in those two days—not until things took a turn after your conversation in the medic tent.

After your little heart-to-heart session, Seungmin had begun acting strangely. And by strangely, you meant becoming a complete one-eighty from the Kim Seungmin you were used to. It was almost like he was replaced by a softer, more warm-hearted version of himself. In one talk, you were suddenly subject to his endless affection, albeit still exhibiting the Kim Seungmin flare that you were comfortable with. Overall, it was just weird to think that four days ago, the two of you were fighting like cats and dogs. Now, you watched him bounce up and down as he gave himself a pep talk to prepare for the kissing scene.

“Are you that nervous?”

Seungmin flinches at your question, seemingly not expecting your voice to enter his head while he was seconds away from a meltdown. Your co-star looks at you sheepishly. “Is that bad? This is driving me insane.”

That was another thing different about Seungmin after the medic tent incident. He acted a lot more endearingly in your eyes. You faintly recall a comment you made a few days ago about how Seungmin would never be akin to a small bird who deserved to be doted on. But seeing the Seungmin in front of you right now, you might just take back your words.

Kim Seungmin had a lot more layers than you thought—and you found yourself wanting to uncover them all.

“I’m sure this isn’t your first kiss on camera,” you snort. “Just go do it like you usually do. Act like how your character would act in the moment. You have my whole consent, anyway.”

Seungmin wanted to tell you how much you didn’t understand his dilemma right now. In all fairness, even he was somewhat unsure of what was happening to him the past few days. All he did know was that he was right in what he thought during the first day of filming—he really did feel like he was turning younger in front of you.

It was almost embarrassing how easily he slipped into that carefree attitude around you, especially after your conversation in the medic tent. He was doing so well up until then, so what happened? Seungmin couldn’t be more curious about his own actions. He did have an inkling of what it was, but he needed more proof to act on it. Seungmin couldn’t risk becoming more of an idiot in your eyes. You already had too much of that experience with him during your filming yesterday, which was the rescheduled shoot of the one he demanded to pause.

That also meant that this was the last day you two had on set together before everyone packed their bags and headed back to the city. After that, it would be just him again on set to film the movie’s first scenes of his character.

Seungmin wasn’t disappointed. He totally wasn’t.

“What are you going to do if I lose control and give into my character, huh?” He argues. You stopped reading your script to give him an unamused stare.

“Seriously?” You scoffed. “If you really must know, then I wouldn’t do anything. If that’s what the male lead feels, then the female lead just needs to reciprocate if they’re really in love with each other. As their actors, we need to deliver those same emotions.”

You didn’t get what was making Seungmin so on edge about the scene. Reviewing his past works, this certainly wouldn’t be his first on-screen kiss, nor was it his first romance project as the male lead. What made you so different from his other co-stars that was making him act like a rookie?

“If anything, I should be more nervous than you. This is actually my first kiss scene!”

“That’s just even worse!” Seungmin whines, burying his face in his hands. “This is gonna be terrible.”

It was then that you finally had an idea as to why Seungmin looked like he was having a mid-life crisis this early in his life.

You felt a grin creep up on your face and paste itself there. “Did you want this to be a good memory for me?”

Seungmin groans at your poking. “Stop teasing me! So what if I do? Did I commit a crime, huh?”

“The crime of stealing my heart, yes.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you,” you laugh. “I try my best.”

Seungmin mutters something beneath his breath—something you couldn’t hear because of Director Han calling for the two of you. He watched as you skipped away, leaving him to follow in your footsteps. Seungmin smiled at the picture painted in front of him.

“I know.”

You stopped at your designated place in front of the camera, turning back to look at Seungmin beside you, who was already sweating bullets. Your hand unconsciously lifts up to wipe them off, which startles the both of you. Seungmin opens his mouth to say something but was cut off by Director Han’s loud voice.

“Alright!” He claps. “This is our last scene for the day before we call it a wrap! I’m sure you two already know what it is, so all I’ll say is don't think too much about this. Enjoy it, or whatever you want to do—as long as it looks natural. Sounds good?” The two of you nod at him.

“Okay, camera starts at three,” he says, motioning towards D.O.P. Bang. “Two, one. Action!”

You took the opportunity to appreciate the scenery around you as the camera started rolling. The scene was set on a hill with a breathtaking view of the rest of the town. Hues of orange and pink start to tint the surroundings as the sun sets in the background. It was nothing less than ethereal, and you almost envied the female lead for having this moment in her life.

“I’ve always wanted to take someone here,” Seungmin says, reciting his lines. “When I was younger, I told myself that I was going to bring my true love here and propose. It was unfortunate that I moved away—this was my favorite spot in the whole world.”

You let yourself completely immerse in the situation. “Propose, huh? I’m sure the lucky person would love it up here. It’s so serene, like it's taking away all your stress just by being here.”

Seungmin gently grabs your hand into his, making you turn to meet his eyes. You almost gasped out of character after seeing the immense amount of love swirling in his gaze. Love looked great on him, you pointed out in your head. One day, Seungmin was going to look at someone else with the same gaze—someone that he loved with all his heart. A tinge of hot green jealousy burned in your stomach at the thought.

Part of you yearned for someone to look at you even just a fourth of the way Seungmin portrayed the male lead’s longing for the female lead. But for now, you had a role to fulfill. You could just lock these feelings up for later.

“Do you?” He asks. Your breath hitches at his question. “I’m not proposing—well, not yet. But I brought you here for a similar reason.”

Seungmin reaches for your other hand, now holding both of them. “I love you so much. I know our time together hasn’t been the longest, but it seems like my heart has found its way back home. Honestly, I first thought that it was just because I was back in town, but eventually I realized that I felt at home with you too.” He caresses your knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe my heart knew where it belonged long before I did. I loved you back then, just like I love you now.”

You couldn’t help but genuinely tear up at Seungmin’s monologue. It was such a beautiful feeling to be loved, and you hoped that someday you could experience the same kind of love you acted with. “So, I’ll ask you this question,” Seungmin continued.

“Will you be mine?”

“Yes,” you sobbed out.

Seungmin lifts his hands to cup your crying face, bringing you closer to his own. The moment your lips connected felt so magical that you ended up leaning in more, savoring the moment with your fluttering heart. Seungmin reciprocates the act, kissing you with more emotion than he did just a second ago. His lips felt like smooth pillows, coaxing you to release all the tension you had left and rest—with him. Seungmin was being careful yet passionate at the same time, leaving you to drown in the sheer magnitude of the butterflies.

You couldn’t help but love every passing second that you were lost on his lips.

When you two pulled away due to the lack of air, he kept his forehead to yours, noses touching. The soft sound of both your laughter filled the surrounding area.

“Cut! That’s a wrap for today!” You hear everyone start cheering at Director Han’s words. Seungmin chuckles at them as he slowly steps back, missing the way your body followed after his warmth.

“Congratulations,” he says gently. You felt your heart skip a beat. “Your first on-screen kiss, done. How did I do?”

Oh, this was going to be dangerous for your heart.

07 : SEVEN.

There’s been an empty feeling in your heart since yesterday that you were trying to ignore.

It was currently the day after you returned to the city. You watched the bustling streets of urban life filter through the car’s tinted windows while Changbin continued to drive you back home after a busy day in the company. Something you had never expected to happen was getting attached to the small countryside town you filmed in enough to miss it like this.

You felt it when you stepped out of the car yesterday to head back to your apartment—the polished concrete floors of the parking building suddenly felt foreign to you. The abundance of luxury cars was evident in the space, reminding you that you were once again in the city. It felt almost cold and lonely with the way you couldn’t see the hills you got used to seeing all day long. But it would do, you think to yourself.

The city could also be warm if you wanted it to be.

“Oh? I think they’re filming the first scenes of the movie in a building around here,” Changbin pointed out from the driver’s seat. “Minho mentioned this street a day ago.”

You raised a brow at his words. “Since when did you and Seungmin’s manager get so close?”

“Ever since you and his talent did,” Changbin snickers.

Heat rose to your face at your manager’s teasing. It was no secret to anyone who witnessed the movie’s shoot that you and Seungmin got extremely close after the fainting incident. You were sure that his efforts to stop the filming from continuing that day was also the talk of the town with the crew members. After all, who would go so far as to pay for rescheduling costs for their co-star? Sure, you and Seungmin were friends, but the two of you were barely talking in the first few days of the project. Anyone in their right mind would find his actions out of the blue—just like you did too.

Maybe it was just Seungmin’s way of making up for all the things you both went through. At first, it made you mad at how he flaunted his blatant disregard for the people affected by his decisions. The image of younger Seungmin came to mind, triggering the part of you that still held a slight resentment for what he did before. However, you found yourself slowly changing your mind as you two apologized to the crew members for the sudden decision, promising them swift and quality scenes the next day. As Seungmin walked you back to your inn’s room, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of happiness bubble in your stomach at the thought of someone caring enough to do this for you.

You watched as the evident signs of a film crew appeared in the distance, right in front of an office building. The same tents you’ve come to familiarize yourself with stood strong, indicating that this was indeed filming the same movie you were working on. It was already early in the evening, so they should be wrapping up any time soon. Should you stop by and say hello?

“Do you want to stop by and visit? You don’t have any schedules left for the rest of the evening,” Changbin suggests, getting ready to park near the building if you give confirmation.

Maybe you could repay Seungmin for his support over the past few days by visiting him. You smile at the thought of catching him off-guard.

“Sure, why not?”

The summer air of June was starting to make itself present despite already cooling significantly due to the sun saying its goodbyes an hour or two ago. Bright lights scattered across the vast street, a mixture of car lights, building lights, and streetlights morphing into the familiar image of a city that everyone knew. You walked towards the set peacefully, effectively going under the radar with a black mask covering your face. It was just a few steps more until you reached the barricade, when a familiar voice called out your name.

“Y/N?” Eunha squinted her eyes to determine if it really was you, only for you to watch them widen in surprise when her conclusion was proven correct. “Oh, it is you!”

You waved as you got closer. “Hi, Eunha. I saw you guys while passing by and thought I’d give you a visit,” you say shyly. Eunha beamed at your explanation.

“That’s so sweet of you; you’re always welcomed here!” She gives you a hug, quickly separating to drag you over the barricade. “Come on, I’ll show you to the others.”

Witnessing the set as a visitor was interesting. Despite the multiple people that greeted you on the way, it still felt as if you were an outsider with a V.I.P. pass to tour the set. Normally, you would be somewhere near the center, where the main scene was going to be shot. So staying back and watching the other crew members do their own things on the outskirts of that area was a new experience. In a way, you felt giddy like a child on a field trip.

“Actress Y/N is here!”

Eunha’s ecstatic voice traveled throughout the main area of the set, catching the attention of the directors, who had a figure you knew all too well standing right beside them. His eyes snapped up from the monitor D.O.P. Bang was showing him, eyes searching around for yours. Once he caught sight of your face, his eyes lit up.

“Y/N?”

If anyone asks, you totally weren’t checking him out. The clean black office suit he was wearing was incredibly flattering on his features, along with the formal brush-up the hairstylists put his hair in. You had only seen him with his hair down for the past few days—with his character supposedly portraying the look of someone who was comfortably back home to rest. And while that Seungmin was also objectively handsome, the way his hair was framing his face right now was stirring something more inside of you. Swallowing the feeling away, you straightened yourself.

“Hi, Seungmin.” You laughed. “Missed me?”

Seungmin abandoned his post with the directors and sped towards you. “Why are you here? It’s getting late,” he says, worried. Seungmin lets his eyes wander behind you for a second before a frown finds its way to his face. “And where’s that damned manager of yours?” You sighed at his obvious complaint.

“When are you going to let down on Changbin?” You say, unamused. “I swear, he means well. I came from the company, so he’s guarding the car since it’s just on hazard.”

“Still—” Seungmin tries to argue, only to be cut off by you waving your finger like he had been a bad child.

“Stop that. We talked about your coddling.”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Maybe I’d stop once you actually learn how to take care of yourself.”

A series of claps interrupted the conversation you two were having. “Okay, break it up, lovebirds,” Minho says while inserting himself between you two. “It’s so nice to see you again, Actress Y/N. But we have a crew celebration dinner to attend, so I’ll borrow Seungmin first over here.”

Your co-star resists his manager, staying firmly on spot to prove a point. “Wait, I’ll walk her back to her car first.” Minho gave him an odd look.

“What do you mean walk her back?” He questions. “She’s attending. You just need to get changed out of that suit.” It was your turn to look confused.

“Huh?”

That was how you suddenly found yourself sitting at a long barbecue restaurant table with the other female crew members, silently listening to their energetic conversations while downing as much meat as you could. You didn’t know if this was a curse or a blessing in disguise, but you would surely regret it if you didn’t make the most of what was handed to you. Free food is still free food, even if it was a sponteneous invitation from the directors.

“I’m so happy we finished filming!” The woman assigned to your makeup, Yerin, said aloud. “Now it's those computer bastards’ turn to slave away.”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for a portion of her hardships. “Once again, I apologize for all the trouble I caused you on set.” You slightly bowed while still sitting. “Hopefully, it will be better the next time we get to work together.” Yerin only waved off your apology.

“Oh, please—don’t be such a worrywart! Having you on set was a delight,” she squeals. “Plus, we had a blast seeing the development between you and Actor Kim Seungmin.” Eunha’s face quickly turned into one of horror.

“Yerin!”

You paled at her words. “I’m sorry, what?”

What did she mean by that? The inside of your mind turned into a battlefield at Yerin’s implication. Your eyes immediately turned to search for Changbin, feeling the need to inform him of a possible issue in the near future. In your experience in the industry, scandals always started like this. You didn’t want this to affect Seungmin’s career negatively, so it was always better to prepare early than late.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N,” Eunha frantically says, trying to get a hold of her co-worker. “She’s just drunk.”

Yerin pushed her hands away, albeit weakly. “Eunha, stop being such a party pooper,” she whines. “We all know they’re dating now. Oh, our crew has tight lips, though! We won’t sell you guys or something.” That didn’t ease the panic that had already formed in your stomach.

“We’re not dating.”

You could only watch as Yerin’s showed genuine shock at your revelation. “Wait, for real?” She gasps. “That’s too bad. You two look great together!”

“Yerin, seriously!”

“Sorry, I’ll just go get some fresh air.” You excused yourself as politely as you could before standing up to head out the front door.

The now-cooled air pricked at your skin, making you breathe a bit more easily than in the humid interior of the restaurant. You lowered yourself to the narrow road’s curbside, choosing to sit down and admire the quiet neighborhood’s lights. It felt a lot better out here than inside, making you feel guilty for not enjoying the celebration more than you should have as one of the main characters for the project.

If you had refused, it would’ve been a bad look. You didn’t have a schedule for the night to use as a reason, and lying to the people who gave you the opportunity to work on your biggest project yet was out of the question. At the same time, you think of what you would’ve been doing instead if you had said no to their dinner offer. Laying down in your apartment while eating takeout wasn’t such a bad scene. The sliding of the aged wooden door brought you out of your thoughts.

“See? Just what I said,” a monotonous voice pointed out. “No self-preservation skills whatsoever.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. “It’s just the outside of a family-owned barbecue establishment, Seungmin. There’s practically no one out here at this time.”

“Does that not make it worse?” He gave you a look of disapproval, crouching down slowly to join you on the curbside. “You have a knack for making people worry, do you?”

“Then stop worrying!” You snapped—his words reminding you of the situation you had just fled from to find peace.

Seungmin raised his hands in surrender. “Woah,” he exclaims. “Alright, something is clearly wrong. Talk to me.”

You could only turn away, feeling yourself unable to face him. It was an awkward subject to bring up, and you told yourself that Yerin had already promised that the crew was tight-lipped. Objectively, there was nothing more left for you to worry about. Subjectively, the implication bothered you. Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “Did someone say something to you back there? You know I can beat them up, right?”

You grimaced at his attempts to comfort you. “You’re so violent,” you frowned. “What if it was a woman?”

“Oh, then I’m out of that. Sorry.”

“So full of shit, that’s what you are.”

Seungmin chuckled. “And that I am,” he replies, amused. “But seriously, I’m all ears if you want.”

A bitter taste announced its presence on your tongue, your mind forming a whirlpool of thoughts once again. “Why? Since we’re friends?” You spat out.

The space around you turned silent with Seungmin’s lack of response. You fought the urge to give him a discrete glance, just to see the damage you created. It took a few more seconds of the evening breeze being the only one talking between you two before Seungmin eventually spoke up.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says in a low voice while running a hand through his hair to pull it back. His hairstyle from earlier was long gone, leaving you to wonder how he got rid of the hairspray so easily. “I actually don’t like that we’re friends.”

He watched as you deflated rapidly at his confession.

“Not in that way!” Seungmin splutters. “It’s just that I—ugh.” He brought up a palm to rub across his face.

Now, you were lost. The path of where the conversation was going became lost to you, making you stand in uncharted territory. Seungmin stayed silent for a few more seconds, trying to collect his thoughts. You let him have the time.

“You might curse at me for this or even put a distance between ourselves. But since this is our last day seeing each other on set until the movie’s release, I’ll take the chance now before I end up regretting I didn’t.”

“Seungmin, what—”

“The thought of staying just friends with you has been bothering me for a while now. It was like I was subjecting myself to my own personalized torture, where I couldn’t get away even if I tried. I’m still not sure what this entirely means for me—for us, but what I know is that platonic would never satisfy me at this rate.” He purses his lips, contemplating how to continue.

Eventually, Seungmin raised his head slightly to meet your eyes. “It’s odd. Admittedly, I’ve had my fair share of romantic relationships in the past, yet none of them could compare to what I was feeling now. At first, I thought it was just an obsession with you. Something that stemmed from my previous interest in you back at our senior level of academy—”

“You had a what?”

“I know,” he laughs humorlessly. “My friends used to tease me that I had a crush; that was why I was bothering you so much. Back then, I just brushed them off as jokes, telling them I only saw you as a rival. Well, look where that ended up.”

You were frozen in shock at his confession. “Seungmin,” you start. “I don’t know what to say.” He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to. Just let me have this moment to pour everything out,” he says. “Y/N, to put it into words, I feel at ease when I’m with you. At the same time, it always felt as if I was constantly worried about when it would end. That I would be left on my own again once you had finished your business with me. I tried to reason with myself, to put an acceptable distance between us in the case that what I had wasn’t the best for you. But I couldn’t do it, Y/N. Every time your voice entered my ears, it was like becoming a child. Unable to control their emotions and doing things without a second thought just because it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.” Seungmin looks up to the sky.

“That kiss we had—I think it was the happiest I’ve been in a while. It might have been just a job to you, because you could say it really was, but for me, it was finally a chance to express everything I had been holding back for the past few days. All I want you to remember is that nothing from that act was faked,” he exhales. “I really don’t think this is something you feel for a friend, so—”

“Let’s see where this takes us.”

“—What?”

“I’m not sure how you expect me to top what you just told me, but I’ll try with my own words.” You teased him with a genuine smile. “Seungmin, I feel strikingly similar to what you feel about me. Just maybe not as intensely yet.”

You let yourself move at the need to cup his face as he continues to look at you in shock. “I’m sure you already know that I spent quite a long time hating your guts, so the fact that I even started to feel an attraction towards you was shocking, to say the least. I was never one to believe in fictional tropes, despite my lifelong yearning to experience a love like that even once. As an actor, I’ve made a career out of acting those scenes out for people to see. But also as an actor, I knew more than anyone else how much real life would never be able to compare to the scripts I’ve seen brought to life on set. They were methodological, a feeling so carefully put together to achieve its maximum potential—real life isn’t like that.” You inhale deeply.

“Things happen for no reason, like they don’t for no reason either. And in a way, I felt both with you.” Your hands lowered themselves towards his hands to hold them tightly. “Enemies-to-lovers? It was laughable at first, but as the days went on, everything just fell into place as if it always belonged there. You feel like a child in front of me? I feel like I’ve never felt warmth in my entire life until you came along. When I first got out of the car yesterday, it was only then that I described urban life as cold and lonely in my entire life. I thought that maybe it was because I got too attached to the homey feel of the countryside that everything I’ve ever known somehow became foreign in a few days. But maybe it was just because of you.”

You found yourself giggling at the dumbfounded look he still had on his face, mind slow to take in what was happening in front of him. “What I’m saying is that I would love to see where this takes us. Right now, you can’t expect me to fall in love all of a sudden, especially considering our past. Though if you try hard enough, perhaps that might be just around the corner. What do you say?” Seungmin finally broke free from his trance, eyes watering.

“I’ll show you hard work that you’ve never seen before in your life.”

“And I believe it.” You pinch his cheek before standing up. “Now, let’s go back inside? The party is still ongoing.”

Seungmin clumsily follows, calling out just in time before you opened the door. “Wait—I still don’t have your number.” You gave him an astounded stare.

“Seriously?” You breathe out. “We went through all that, and we still don’t have each other’s numbers?”

Seungmin voices out his offense. “Well, I’m sorry that I was missing all my shots!”

“So, does that mean you’re gonna take a shot now, loverboy?”

“For you, yes.”

taglist 🔖— thank you for waiting ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @feelikecinderella @abbiestearsricochet @heelovesmeknot @floating-moon-dust @yoontaethings @hwangism143 @jazziesssss @hwangflora @vixensss @yourlocalstayyxi @dollce-exe @bambispostsblog @authentic-65 @dandelions-143

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peppermintquartz · 2 months

Text

Chimney is striding towards a tall, dark-haired man who is currently checking the cockpit of a helicopter. Time is of the essence, but they will still need to wait for Hen.

Tall guy has a nice ass, Buck thinks vaguely, a little distracted by all the activity that's going on around them. He wonders if the choppers get to go out every day. He would, if he were a pilot.

When the guy turns around, it is to reveal a handsome face: chiseled jaw, aristocratic nose, straightforward gaze, generous lips and - oh - a cleft chin. That face breaks into a broad smile, the lines crinkling at the eyes and around the mouth adding to the overall attractiveness of the features.

"Howie, hey!" Tall Handsome Guy hugs Chimney tightly, enveloping the shorter man in a sincere embrace. "Long time."

Wow. Buck blinks at the show of affection. When he gets closer, he sees that Tall Handsome Guy is actually about the same height as he is, but with a more angular face - that jawline is to die for - and he is broader in the shoulders. Even more handsome up close, too, which is totally unfair.

"This is Tommy, Tommy Kinard. He used to be at the 118," Chimney introduces. "Used to have a fat head, but he grew out of that."

"Thanks to you," says Tommy. He holds out a hand to Eddie and Buck.

Eddie shakes Tommy's hand first. "Eddie Diaz."

"Pleasure. And you are...?" Tommy turns to Buck.

Buck takes the proffered hand. Good God his hand is so big and strong. "Uh, Evan. E-Evan Buckley, hi."

"Hi Evan," says Tommy, smiling at Buck, the smile as warm as his hand. The name Evan sounds cozy and welcoming coming from Tommy, and for a second when Buck meets Tommy's eyes, he almost forgets to breathe. No man should be this good-looking, Buck thinks. Tommy clears his throat and his smile turns a little cheeky. "I'm gonna need that hand to fly the chopper, kid."

"Oh! Oh, right, sorry. I was just, um, thinking. About Cap and Thena."

"Yeah, we're gonna need Hen to show soon with some coordinates," Chimney says, looking antsy. "Can't go flying all over the Gulf of Mexico."

Tommy shrugs. "We'll do what we can. Wait, I see a car pulling in. Might be her. Get in the backseat, strap yourselves in. Once I get Hen clear of Melton, we'll dash. Hopefully she has a good cover story..." His cheeks puff out and he lets out an exaggerated exhale. Then he grins at the three. "If we're all arrested, can I blame it on you, Howie?"

"Yeah I really twisted your arm with the 'Please help us save Cap and Athena'." Chimney climbs in after Eddie.

"You know it's because of your irresistibly pretty face," says Tommy dryly, helping Buck get in, a hand on his elbow. "Alright, put those helmets on. Careful, Evan."

Buck manages to catch Tommy's faint frown just before the pilot takes his seat and starts up the engine, go over his checks or whatever pilots do. Tommy's concerned, which isn't a surprise. They're asking a huge favor.

But it's so cool that he is throwing in his lot with them, just like that. Buck doesn't think there are many people who would do this. Tommy Kinard really is pretty cool.

"Alright. She's ready to go when we are," says Tommy. He opens his door and slides out. To the trio, he says, "Don't touch anything. I'm gonna hang out near Melton and run intercept."

"We'll behave," Eddie says, holding up his hand like a Scout.

Tommy only rolls his eyes and chuckles before jogging away to the main hangar. Buck can't help noticing how the flight suit pulls over the man's shoulders and ass as he moves.

Wonder what his workouts are like, Buck muses. Maybe more squats and lifts.

Now, all they have to do is wait for Hen to show.

edited on AO3

Tommy's POV

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #chimney han #eddie diaz #first meeting #bucktommy #tevan #kinley

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happy74827 · 10 months

Text

Late Night Serenity

[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Harvey doesn’t particularly let out his feelings much, so when you get a call in the middle of the night, completely unannounced, it’s safe to say you’re there within a heartbeat.

WC: 1134

Category: Slight Angst, Comfort

I wrote this at 3am after watching an edit... yeah, not my brightest moment. But hey, this beauty came out of it :)

『••✎••』

“Harvey…?” You spoke into the phone, a little concerned as to why he called you at such a late hour. You were already in bed and about to fall asleep.

There was a short silence before he answered, almost as if he was waiting for the right words.

Finally, he replied, and you heard the slight hesitation in his voice, the uncertainty, and the exhaustion.

"Yeah?"

You were instantly on alert, but you made your voice calm and soft so he wouldn't hear your worry. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?"

There was another pause, this one longer than the first. Your worry increased. You sat up, already pulling on a sweater, trying to get ready to go to Harvey's.

"No. No, it's alright. I just wanted to hear your voice. Sorry to wake you."

Your mind raced, trying to decipher Harvey's words and the hidden meaning behind them. His tone wasn't right; it was too quiet and too sad, nothing like the normal cocky, self-assured, sometimes slightly arrogant tone.

"You didn't wake me. Is something wrong, Harvey?"

You heard him sigh, then the sound of a door shutting and the muffled sounds of the city streets. He must have stepped out of his office, maybe gone outside.

"No. Everything is fine; It's okay. Go back to bed."

He didn't sound okay. In fact, he sounded a bit upset, though not like he was angry, more like he was frustrated.

You slipped on your shoes and coat, grabbed your keys and wallet, and quietly opened the door.

"Where are you? Home? I'll meet you there."

"What? No, no, that's not-"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Wait for me, okay? Don't go anywhere."

You could almost hear him frown through the phone. "I can't ask you to do that. You don't have to.”

"Harvey," you interrupted him again. "I'm coming, alright? See you soon."

You hung up before he could protest more and drove as fast as you could to his apartment.

Once you arrived, you saw that Harvey was waiting for you outside. He looked exhausted and was staring up at the sky, his hands in his pockets. He was still in his work suit but had taken off his tie and jacket, leaving his top few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up.

"Harvey?"

He jumped slightly and looked over at you. The moment he saw you, he relaxed and gave a half smile, but you could tell he was still worried.

“Hey, Bumblebee,” His nickname for you. You had told him how you hated bees when you were younger and had a fear of being stung, and ever since, he had called you Bumblebee, telling you that you were the cutest little bumblebee. It was definitely meant to be teasing, but somehow, the way he said it was never mean or rude, and you secretly loved it no matter how much you’d deny it.

“What was it? Mike?” You guessed, referring to Harvey's associate, whom he had taken under his wing a while back. Harvey shook his head.

"Jessica, actually."

You raised an eyebrow.

"She found out and wants me to fire him. But I can't, I just can't, not now."

"I’m sorry, Harv, but you knew it was a risk, right? She had to have found out eventually.”

"Yeah, I know, I just thought maybe... maybe I wouldn't have to, and we could figure something out. He’s got so much potential.”

Harvey looked down and sighed. He looked so tired, but you knew his mind was racing, always trying to find a way to fix things. He had been working with Mike for a while now, and even though he would never admit it, you knew Harvey cared about him and had grown attached to his presence.

And when Harvey gets attached, he hates to lose.

Your hands found his arms, and you squeezed gently, trying to reassure him. You had done this plenty of times in the past, and you knew it worked.

"Look at me," you told him, and he did. His dark brown eyes met yours, and you were almost startled by the amount of emotion in them. He was always good at hiding how he felt, but you could see through his mask, and you saw how upset he was.

"You’ll figure it out; you always do. And even if somehow you don't, it's not the end of the world. He could always… you know, actually, go to law school."

Harvey laughed quietly, and the sound warmed your heart. He was finally relaxing, slowly calming down.

"No, that's not an option," he replied.

"Right. I forgot how stubborn you both are."

You smiled, and Harvey smiled back. He had the most wonderful smile, the kind that always made you happy no matter what was happening.

"I'm glad you came," Harvey said, taking a step closer. His hands found your waist, and yours reached up to wrap around his neck. You could feel the warmth from his body through your clothes, and you leaned in, resting your head against his chest.

"Me too. Especially when you’re in a mellow mood," you teased. Harvey chuckled and rubbed your back. “That's rare."

"Hey," Harvey replied, feigning offense. "I'm not always a dick, you know."

"About eighty percent of the time," you grinned, looking up at him. Harvey's smile faded, and his eyes locked on yours, gazing at you with a certain intensity that made your breath catch.

You stared at each other for a few moments, neither one of you moving, until Harvey suddenly leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, his hand cupping your cheek and the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you against him.

The kiss was slow and sweet but full of all the emotions that neither of you could say. There was no rush, no desperate passion or need, just the two of you together.

After a while, Harvey pulled away but kept his forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

He didn’t say anything, but you knew exactly what he was thinking. You had spent enough time with him to be able to read him perfectly.

Thank you.

Thank you for being here.

Thank you for caring.

Thank you for being mine.

You reached up and kissed his nose.

"Love you," you whispered.

"I know," Harvey replied. His lips turned up into a smirk, and you rolled your eyes, trying to act annoyed but not doing a very good job of it.

“You’re proving my point, Harv.”

Harvey shrugged. "But you love me anyway, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I really do."

“Good,” His lips brushed against yours, and his smile was still there, but his eyes were serious. “Glad to know we feel the same way.”

1K notes · View notes

lemmetreatya · 2 years

Text

librarian!eren who knows he’s being sinful every time he watched you come in; his eyes always drawn to the extensive collection of oversized hoodie and biking shorts you wore.

how librarian!eren quickly realises that you’d only come at vacant hours, where the benches are cleared and the library finds itself void of other occupants — bar librarian!eren of course.

or how you occasionally make conversation with librarian!eren because he’s the only one there. even worse, because he’s a night shift worker and they only need one person on staff for ratio (okay but who the fuck keeps a local library open past six?! — it’s not like this was NYPL for people to be coming in at ungodly hours) but alas, there were budding learners, like you, who always seemed to make good of the toxic hours and used them accordingly.

well, on most nights, that was.

as librarian!eren is packing a few of the return books back to their rightful place, he peaks past a pillar and almost drops the 1st edition fantasy book that was over 150 years old.

because no fucking way were you doing what he thinks you were doing.

automatically he feels his dick jump within his boxers and he panics, because librarian!eren still has four hours of his shift to go — theres no way he could get through it bricked up. for the sake of his own sanity, he has to think chaste thoughts; like cute bunnies and purple frogs.

but no matter how many times he looked and tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, he couldn’t deny your hunched over position, cocked leg perched onto the bench and the sound of petty moans mixed with sizzling vibrations.

librarian!eren thinks to himself how on earth he’s going to go about this. ignore it and save your pride? or enforce justice and escort you out. it doesn’t help that he’s warring within himself but after a heated mental debate, he enters the battle field.

“sorry, but that counts as public indecency.”

and you gasp up at eren, startled, because never did you think you’d ever be caught — especially concerning all the other times you’ve gotten away with it. but now you panic because you couldn’t get a criminal offence to your name, not this term!

but despite that, librarian!eren has a different tactic to how he can implore justice.

someway, somehow, you end up with your toes hovering adjacent to your ears as librarian!eren wets his dick inside your squidgy pussy, his smile demonic as he presses your adorable rose bud to the meaty bean of your clit.

it’s disgusting and it’s weird because at some point you’re begging your local librarian to spit in your mouth and for him to make out with you whilst possessing a cum filled mouth, but he complies all the same. at the end of the day the both of you won.

you tell librarian!eren that you enjoyed the time and would definitely do it again, but apparently you had a thing against the familiarity of second times. either way, librarian!eren doesn’t care. he’s more than happy to go back to doing his work.

librarian!eren can’t believe what’s transpired tonight, but either way, he knows it wasn’t no scenario any book could make up.

#eren x reader #eren jeager smut #eren yeager #attack on titan eren #eren jeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren x black reader #aot x black reader #aot smut

5K notes · View notes

phyrestartr · 3 months

Text

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.4 | END)

W/C 7.2k #NSFW, male!reader, top!reader, bottom!sukuna, ABO elements, heian sukuna, typical kitsune shapeshifting, jp mythology, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, questionable relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, gojo/megumi/yuuji/nobara cameos, yuuji/megu/nobara are early 20s, sukuna is controlling/possessive/obsessive, rough sex, not edited enough (oh well) Note: It's finally over (dies like Noctis)

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah @memedealer-exe @f0th3rr @boretheral @cicithemess @paastaboi @someone0vx

“Google says kitsune are usually attuned to one of the thirteen elements,” Nobara prattled, scrolling through the random Japanese mythology website on her phone. “Itadori, what's his element, huh?”

Yuuji pursed his lips, face growing deadpan as he thought and quickly realized he had no clue.

“Uh…”

Nobara grimaced. “Useless.”

“Hey, I didn't know they were all, y'know, elemental-y, okay?! Jeeze!”

Megumi sighed and shook his head. “We're supposed to be keeping an eye on him, not arguing about garbage you found online.”

The two country bumpkins followed Megumi's gaze to where you snoozed under a tree. It felt a little strange seeing you donned in one of college's spare uniforms, but you seemed quite pleased by the modern take on fashion and aesthetic. Yuuji wondered if you'd take to modifying the plain, black clothes the way you'd done so in the past.

“Oi, kyuubi!” Nobara called as she wandered in your direction, much to the chagrin of Megumi. “I got a question for ya.”

You spared her a sleepy glance before sitting up and stretching with a wide, toothy yawn. It almost took the three aback, seeing how sharp and distinctly not-human your teeth were.

“You and everyone else, evidently.” You hummed and combed your tail with your fingers. “Speak.”

“Is it true that your kind are, like, elemental or something?”

Megumi sighed as he rolled up beside her. “She means to ask if kitsune are elementally-attuned, whether it be to fire, water, earth–that sort of thing.”

“I literally just said that!” Nobara hissed as she smacked Megumi's arm. The raven didn't react in the slightest.

“Yeah!” Yuuji piped up. His face grew red as soon as your lazy stare flicked to him. “I-I, uh–like, y'know, fire. Or…you talked about fire?”

“You are so tactless. It's starting to get sad.”

“Can it, Kugisaki!”

You smiled. “It's true, more or less. I was taught my sort usually falls into one of the thirteen elements: celestial, wind, spirit, darkness, fire, earth, river, ocean, forest, mountain, thunder, sound, and time.

“Then, there are the broadly ‘bad’ sort, nogitsune, and the ‘good’ sort, zenko. Most say only zenko reach total divinity, but that's not always the case.”

“Yikes, so the bad kitsune can be gods too?” Yuuji asked as he sat down with you and pulled at the grass idly. “Isn't that, y'know, bad?”

“Gods are all inherently bad, as far as I'm concerned,” you said.

“Gojo-sensei mentioned you were one,” Megumi offered as he and Nobara sat, too. “A god. The people revered you.”

You snorted and covered your mouth the way you might have if you had the long sleeves of a kimono to aid you.

“They didn't mind me. I don't think they particularly liked me, considering what company I kept.” You hummed and straightened out your sleeve.

“Yeah, but…you're not him, so what's the point in hating you?” Yuuji asked, and you couldn't help but feel more weight and worry behind the words.

“I don't care what they thought of me. I only cared about what the palace residents thought. They were my family, in a sense.”

“Even Sukuna?” Megumi asked.

“That's such a stupid question, oh my god. Boys are so stupid,” Nobara said with a deadpan.

You smiled, though, and kindly still answered.

“Especially Sukuna.”

“Hey, hey! Sorry for the wait!” Gojo called across the field as he made a show of sauntering on over before teleporting in the blink of an eye. “So? Are we all–oooh, are we gossiping?”

“What, no?!”

“No.”

Gojo pouted. “My students always leave me out. Thankfully, my sweet, pious, precious (Name) is nice to me!”

“You're late, Satoru,” you sighed as you stood, tying back your chopped hair into the tiniest of ponytails. “What is the reason?”

Gojo whined and trotted up to you, rubbing and petting your ears to bring you back to his side of the issue.

“It's not my fault! All the higher-ups are sooo annoying and yap sooo much!” He shuffled behind you and played with your three lush tails much like a toddler would. “Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy that's not gonna get mad at the Gojo Satoru?”

You sighed and flicked your ear, thwacking him in the forehead with it. “Let's not waste any more time, cretin.

“What're we even doing, Sensei?” Yuuji asked, rubbing the back of his head after raising his hand like he was in class. “You didn't really tell us anythin’.”

“Yeah, I thought we were just watching the fox until he had to go back in his cage,” Nobara said, arms crossed and expression sour. “Seems kinda stupid. He's not even a threat.” But Yuuji knew there was little truth to that statement.

“I'm guessing the meeting was about relocating (Name).” Megumi looked at Gojo. “So what's the plan?”

–

The five of you walked endlessly through the vast forest surrounding the college. Your gaze traveled up sky-scraping trees, admiring the ancient song of life only you could hear through the soil and air. Wind danced across the verdant canopy above, scattering beams of molten sunlight across the forest floor and dappling the shoulders of the sorcerers before you with golden kisses–a sight you so sorely missed from your tenure at the palace.

The land was not crying here. You'd heard the distant sound from the concrete jungle resting far below the rise of the college, and it shrouded you with jaded confusion and contempt for what had been done to the world in your stead; if you'd been smarter, wiser to the plans of one, could you have prevented this? Or were humans simply inevitable with their evolution? Perhaps it was up to the Earth to find the yang after the yin.

“Okay, this is it!” Gojo called, snapping you from your rampant thoughts.

You looked to where he gestured, and found a simple building. It was reminiscent of the college in its design–modern, but clearly inspired by traditional architecture–and it looked fairly new. A bell attached to a rope stood at the forefront, as did a well for mortals to throw their offerings before ringing the aforementioned chime. Beyond that, the shrine lacked character and decoration. It was a clean slate.

You blinked owlishly, and tilted your head. “This is…?”

“A shrine! For our new on-campus god! How fun is that, huh?” Gojo smiled, proud for a reason you couldn't decipher. “You get to make it home!”

The younger three all deadpanned, looking between each other, trying to parse if their teacher was delusional or just being a menace to society and doing this behind the council’s back. Honestly, it was up in the air.

“I–is that even–” Megumi tried, but gave up and rubbed his face instead.

“So…(Name)’s gonna be, like, our resident god, or something?” Yuuji wondered, feeling his heart pitter patter just a little faster.

“Haha! Sure, if you want to think of it that way.” Gojo smiled and looked toward the blank canvas of a shrine. “In exchange for divine favour, we grant sanctuary. Home. A place to call your own.”

You didn't say much, but your tails swished and flowed as you stared at the humble abode–your humble abode–and inhaled shakily.

“I suppose this will do,” you conceded, still too unwilling to give Gojo the satisfaction of knowing he'd touched your heart. “It's a bit stingy, however.”

“STINGY?”

“Indeed. Now, begone–I have work to do.”

–

Sukuna reached for you when he dreamed. He didn't need to sleep, he had no use for it as he was now, but he convinced himself into the realm of the unconscious regardless, searching for the doorway leading to your mind.

And he tried night after night, day after day, searching and sitting outside the palace of your inner realm once he found the entrance. The door was the same as the one leading to your chambers in your shared home; a simple, sliding door of wood and paper. Beautiful. Comforting.

He knew the door wouldn't open for him, not yet; he deduced what may have happened, and what that would have meant for you all and himself as a result. He'd have to be patient. Wait for you to let him in to confront him, or seek his comfort.

But he didn't expect the door to open so suddenly behind him, sending him rolling onto his back and staring upside down at the most magnificent sight he'd ever beheld–a kyuubi, sitting poised across the room, dressed in a haori several sizes too big, waiting with his back turned as candlelight flickered and lulled the room into a lazy, sleepy haze.

Sukuna righted himself and stood, spirit flailing and tearing itself apart in his uncontrollable want for you, for a desire to return back to the simplicity of this time. But he couldn't go back. Maybe he could recreate it.

“Fox,” Sukuna murmured, excitement igniting the small, human body he'd been forced to mold his soul into. It felt so much worse in this form, his want being so much more fucking unbearable and burning a hole in his damn chest and skull.

You shifted, head turning the slightest toward him yet refusing to give way entirely. But, then you stood, and Sukuna suddenly understood how you felt in the presence of his overwhelming power.

You stood tall. Proud. Powerful. Your ears pointed towards the heavens while your tails fanned against the gates of hell when you turned to face that lover of the past, the one you held so dear for decades.

Sukuna almost felt weak in the knees (or was that somehow Yuuji interrupting his delusions?) when bright red markings caught the light, shimmering in divine sparks of orange and teal in the firelight–and your eyes. Your eyes. They burned with higher purpose. With unreadable certainty and alien understanding. You made Sukuna's gut coil with need.

“My Sukuna,” you whispered to the room. You took a step forward, and Sukuna eagerly met you the rest of the way. “You look so…small.”

He looked up at you–yes, up--and admired your face and godly stature and just how fucking tall and unearthly and powerful you were looming over him.

“Stuck looking like this fucking runt while I'm in his body,” Sukuna explained bitterly. He reached a hand up while he spoke, and you graciously leaned down to let his skin touch yours.

An ache curled under Sukuna's skin, flushing his complexion with heat and suffocating him in those unbearable sorcerer uniform garbs. His pants strained too tight, his jacket and hoodie made his core swelter and his mind grow fuzzy. It was torture.

“He looks so much like you,” you drawled, holding Sukuna's face in kind. You hummed with sympathy when he moaned and leaned into your touch, only abandoning his own rediscovery of your features to hold your palms against him, to indulge in everything so wholly you.

“Forgot what I look like, huh,” Sukuna huffed. “This brat looks like a beaten monkey.”

“So did you.”

“Hey.”

“But I adored you anyway, did I not?”

Sukuna scanned over your face slowly, methodically, wondering.

“Adore. You mean ‘adore’.”

“Perhaps.” You smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “It's been some time.”

“You chose me. You belong to me.” Sukuna's lip curled as he growled and forced your hands into his skin firmer as though to leave scars. “Mine. Only mine.”

Your lips quirked upwards and Sukuna pulled you down to kiss you. His voice reverberated between your linked bodies as your tongue licked into his mouth far enough to nearly make him choke. You kindly pulled him flush against you, wrenching more pleased, needy noises out of him with no effort at all.

“You're as starved as Yuuji,” you whispered as his hands fumbled with your ornate clothes, yanking and pulling at them with reckless abandon.

“Shut up.” His grumbling lessened just a bit when you eased your robes open, exposing your perfect skin to him once again.

“I believe it'd displease you if I stopped talking, no?” You tore the clothing off the other's body as he pulled you down to the floor with him, suddenly so eager to submit.

Sukuna scoffed. “I–just touch me, fox.”

It was your turn to purr and keen, basking in the soft tremble of anticipation the all-powerful choked on as he spread himself bare beneath you, your garbs cascading all around him like a waterfall–only you would get to see him, chest heaving, eyes swirling with lust and need, hidden behind a curtain of embroidered flames.

“Poor thing.” You dug your nails into his hips and dragged him toward you, prodding your aching length against his unprepared heat. “You've been so long without touch. Without love. Do you still think it's meaningless?”

The curse snarled, and you caught him by the throat, pinning him in place and jamming your other hand's fingers down his throat before he could bark back at you. And just that simple torture had the king's hips twitching and bucking, slowly falling into time with the rhythm of your digits slipping in and out of his bratty mouth.

“F-fuck you,” he gasped once his mouth fell empty.

You chuckled smoothly. “It's simply food for thought.” You pressed two fingers into him and worked inside with ease despite the crushing heat clamping down around you. You didn't know if his sweet, little body wanted you to stay put or fill him faster.

“Fuckin'--annoying, shithead, bratty fox–” he cut off with a ragged moan as you pressed against his prostate and rubbed against it slowly, firmly, deliciously. His eyes fell shut and his brows twitched up, a vivid look of desperation and concentration making him look far too vulnerable and breedable for his own good.

“It's strange,” you hummed, working him a little faster and jamming your fingers against his sweet spot over and over. “I never thought you'd willingly submit.”

“I need it,” Sukuna growled, fisting his hand around his weeping length and stroking to the beat of your fingers. His hips bucked forward and back, unsure of what searing pleasure to lean into more; luckily for him, you were keen to up the ante.

Your fingers slipped out and Sukuna snarled, crimson eyes snapping open to brand you with frustration. You felt the whip of desperate commands about to crack off Sukuna's tongue, so you wasted no time filling him back up, stuffing him beyond his limits.

The man almost gasped, though it could have just been the force of your cock punching the air out of his lungs. You pulled him against you, seating him to the base with a little effort and brute force. You knew he liked the pain. Pleasure was closely acquainted with it, after all.

“This is what you wanted,” you murmured as you rocked into him.

The curse didn't know if you beckoned an answer from him, or simply stated the facts. So, he didn't answer you. He instead gripped onto your shoulders to keep himself steady while you effortlessly drilled into his core with each and every thoughtful roll of your hips.

And it felt good. An uncomfortable, searing stretch accompanied the deep plunges filling him beat after beat. His body tightened and clamped down around you, forcing your length to rub against the weakest, most sensitive spots inside of him–places no one would ever dream of hitting inside the unruly king. None besides you, of course. You were different. Better than the rest. Fit to fuck and fill him if Sukuna so desired it.

“(Name),” he groaned when you changed up the angle, aiming to rub up against the ceiling of his insides with every thrust. You tortured his weak spot, and made a casual show of forcing his stomach to bulge and distend whenever you bottomed out entirely, and Sukuna reveled in it. He wanted to be yours. Just yours.

“You're so sweet when you submit,” you cooed, leaning down and nuzzling against his neck as you fucked into him harder and faster. “You should have done so sooner.”

Sukuna should have clapped Back, but he couldn't; he was too busy trying to angle himself to somehow get you deeper. He was too busy trying to pull you closer, to graft his thick thighs to your scar-riddled sides like a branch on a tree. He couldn't spare a single braincell on your arrogant Teasing when all he could think was, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me–

“Now he's lost his voice,” you sighed. “Such a pity.” Your hips hit particularly hard to punctuate, and Sukuna grunted.

“Again,” he choked out. “Fuck me like that.”

You branded a smile into his skin with a hum. “Are you sure? I won't stop if it's too much.”

Sukuna opened his bleary eyes and spied your nine tails fanned out, cloaking the ceiling from sight. It felt like staring death in the face. Maybe he'd been in its clutches this entire time. Maybe he wanted–needed–you to be the end of him.

Your hand found his throat again, and Sukuna nodded as best he could, too overwhelmed and overstimulated to get words out of his open mouth–but grunts and groans had no issue bursting through as you left mercy by the wayside and destroyed him as thoroughly as he requested. You were, after all, a selfless god.

Sukuna's eyes rolled back as his head tilted in kind, mouth left agape as you burned him alive; every push of your body into his lit new fires, and every second you stayed connected, more of his soul exhausted itself before rising from ashes once again. The tightness coiling in his stomach grew unbearable and insatiable, hungering for more and more and more until–

“There's no shame in coming undone,” you cooed, your lips and fangs replacing the hand in his throat and peppering apologetic kisses. “Unravel for me, my love.”

My love. My love. My love.

“Fuck,” Sukuna gasped. He clung to you, and you raised your head to kiss him, swallowing his strained noises to keep them a secret from the outside world and himself.

He grabbed at your shoulders and arms as his head tilted back and a hoarse cry left him–just as his body clamped down and sent him over the edge, he realized pushing in and out had become more taxing. Perhaps because of his cumming, or perhaps because of the ungodly thing swelling at your base and ripping him open.

You worked him through his high, never thinking of pulling away from him when he needed you most. Because this was bound to end. He was bound to wake up and feel cold where your hands now touched. He was stuck in the body of another with no hope of reaching you unless he somehow, some way turned the tables on all those weak sorcerers and broke free.

But he would. He'd claim his vessel and walk amongst the new world, autonomous and untouchable. It was only a matter of time.

–

Though Sukuna was selfish in chasing his own pleasure, he soon found immense satisfaction in yours.

The number of times he'd trap you against a wall and finger you until your legs gave out and your voice ran hoarse was too great to count. He couldn't help himself; that bewildered, wide-eyed look you gave him every time you were let go to fix your robes and catch your voice screamed, what was that for? And boosted Sukuna’s ego. He reveled in the glory of being the only one to do this to you, to being the one who forced you to lose composure.

In his chamber, he indulged further. He'd work thick fingers deep inside of you while his other hands roamed and touched, stroking, pinching and rubbing wherever he deemed needed attention. And you were putty in his hands, absolutely melting into everything he did to you, even if accompanied by a shock of pain.

Because you were a creature who only knew sex for the sake of bearing children. Beyond that clan using you in an attempt to create half-breed sorcerers, your primal nature influenced you to only seek out a mate for the purpose of bearing children, and not necessarily for pleasure.

But Sukuna was the opposite. He never thought of siring children. He only thought of pleasure of another's body and the thrill of total domination over them, never the idea he'd suffer the consequences of an heir; he had those women drink a special tea to prevent that for a reason, especially when a handful had come to him, offering their bodies in return for fame and perceived power.

With you, he could entertain the idea, however.

Yes, the mere idea of watching you walk around the gardens, properly swollen with his children, with physical proof of his ownership and coupling with you, sparked something akin to greed in his chest. Though it was a little warmer than just that, admittedly.

–

Yuuji liked you. There was no escaping it, no denying it–he liked being around you. He liked your smile. Your tails. Your ears. The way you scared the shit out of him the first time you properly met. You were just…weird. Interesting. Kind of like Yuuji himself.

But you were kind, too. The times he wandered out to meet you at your shrine to “check up on things,” or because he was bored, he always found you tending to your gardens, talking to the passerby wildlife, dozing at the entrance, and his heart would do something funny in his chest.

Then his mind would rot until all he could see was you sprawled beneath Sukuna, singing the king’s praises while he fucked you into the tatami and bred you.

It wouldn't stop there. Sukuna would taunt him, poisoning him with sinful thoughts and diabolic urges:

You think that fox'll give you the time of day? You, a petulant runt with not a shred of experience beyond your hand? Hah.

Consider it a blessing--you'd probably cum too fast to enjoy him properly. You'd embarrass yourself to death.

I know you think about him when your hand's around your cock. You wish he'd warm it, no? Wish you got to watch his ass take you in?

Go on, why don't you just try? Fulfill your fantasies! Maybe he'll act the part of a pious, pitying god and throw you a bone.

Yuuji, for as airheaded as he could be, knew Sukuna wanted to indulge in you through his vessel. Or, he truly believed Yuuji wouldn't be able to hook up with you and live to remember it. Maybe he was right.

But the young man thought you had a soft spot for him; he wasn't great at reading people by any means, but he thought you always gravitated to him before the others. You always held more warmth in your eyes when they fell upon him, and your preening touch constantly found him, your hands always smoothing out the creases of his uniform while deft fingers fixed his hair and pleated his hood into more attractive folds.

Maybe your touchy-ness toward him was a culmination of your need to parent something. Yuuji didn't fully understand it, but Gojo mentioned something about you wanting children, but you couldn't have them. Not anymore. And so those urges manifested in other ways.

But the young sorcerer wasn't so sure anymore.

“My Yuuji,” you cooed when he came to visit. “You're back again so soon. Is everything alright?”

Yuuji smiled and braced for impact, bowing his head the slightest bit to let you bonk yours against his in greeting. It really reminded him of the way cats would welcome each other. Thankfully, you didn't seem too eager to mark him with a dose of spittle, though.

“Yeah, everything's cool. Just–dunno. Wanted to come see what you were doing, I guess.” The sorcerer shrugged and pocketed his hands after you'd finished lovingly headbutting him.

“Mmh. Well, I certainly don't mind the company.” You smoothed back his hair and fixed the wild flare of one of his eyebrows before stepping away and meandering back towards your shrine. “It feels like something's going to happen soon.”

Yuuji's stomach flipped. “Yeah? You think so?” He followed you, watching the hypnotic swaying of your tails and hips and ass–wait, wait, wait, no, no, no–

What? Am I wrong? Sukuna's voice purred. Looks downright breedable, doesn't he? He said it more like a want than a taunt, this time, like if he were in Yuuji's shoes, he'd jump on you and pick up where you left off.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Yuuji chanted, trying to calm down. Don't ruin this!

Ruin what? Your sad attempt at courtship, brat?

Yuuji said nothing. Sukuna howled with laughter.

“Natural disasters cannot always be predicted,” you murmured, bringing Yuuji back to the present. “And they can never be stopped.”

The younger frowned and rubbed the back of his neck as he followed you inside. “Eh, I mean…we can stop a lot with sorcery, can't we?”

“And if that disaster is born of sorcery? What then?” You snapped your fingers, and every candle in the room ignited with amber flame.

“Uh…I mean…” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I still think we can stop it. We'll figure out a way!”

You sure about that, brat?

You laughed, soft and kind, bringing a smile to Yuuji instead of a ticked off frown. You had a way of settling his nerves and relieving the tension from tightly wound muscles. Is this the effect you had on Sukuna? Is that why he cherished you so much?

“I admire your optimism, Yuuji. Perhaps I should aspire to be like you,” you said.

Yuuji's face flushed. “E-eh? Wh–no! You're awesome the way you are! And, uh, you're–y’know. You're good!” Smooth. Eloquent. Exceptional.

You hummed and wandered further into the back rooms, allowing Yuuji to follow you to your chambers to relax. “Well, I'll trust your opinion, then.”

“Okay. Yeah. Cool.” The sorcerer cleared his throat and messed with his hood as he followed your lead, admiring the tidy, comfy space you welcomed him into. Pillows and blankets were plentiful and all bunched together on a futon, so much like the nests Yuuji often saw in his dreams. It felt a bit…intrusive to see it in person.

“Hey, uh,” Yuuji started, “I–can I ask something?”

You seated yourself down across the small, simple kotatsu, and gestured for the younger to join you. “Of course.”

The sorcerer sat down across from you. “You and Sukuna. Were you guys–did you ever…y'know.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Go on.”

“Were you, like, in love? Or something?” Yuuji's face burned red at the words. Talking about love was so damn awkward for some reason, especially when it had to do with Sukuna and the fox Yuuji himself pined for.

“Ah.” You tilted your head the opposite direction, and hummed. “I was in love, yes.”

Yuuji's chest ached. “Even now?”

“Eternally.”

“Do you want him back?”

You didn't answer right away, and the festering pain spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers; of course you wanted him back. Of course you wanted your ancient, all-powerful lover back. Why would you ever accept Yuuji in his place? A weak, mortal being?

Before Yuuji could retract the question, you'd shuffled around to his side of the table and held one of his hands in both of yours. The younger couldn't bear to look at your face, and so kept his eyes trained on your elegant fingers smoothing over his rough, scarred knuckles.

“I would not trade a soul that walks amongst the living for a soul that has already lived its life,” you said. “Sukuna has lived. And he has died. He may rise once more, but I do not seek to aid it; he chose to die in hopes of living forever. He must accept what his decision brings, as must I.”

The storm inside of the sorcerer calmed the slightest bit. Sails no longer whipped and frayed; they caught wind and led his heart back to placid waters, though the depths of the oceans could always threaten future treachery. For now, however, Yuuji found safety.

“Man, you really are like Yoda,” He laughed, filling the room with renewed brightness.

You blinked owlishly. “Yoda? What that is, I do not know.”

Yuuji laughed harder and clasped his hands around yours. “Nah, don't worry about it. It's a good thing, though. From one of the movies Gojo-sensei made me watch.”

“I would strongly advise against taking lessons from that man, Yuuji.” Your brow creased as your hands clutched his in a death grip. “He’s not normal.”

Yuuji grinned, then, and held your hands just as tightly. “Yeah, he's weird. But he's smart, too! One of the strongest guys alive, y'know?”

“Even the strongest can make mistakes,” you said. “Even the strongest can lose, Yuuji. Always be careful, even if victory is assured.” Your careful touch graced the curve of his cheek. “I would hate for your visits to stop.”

The sorcerer's heart beat in double-time.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

–

The leaves crinkled and rustled, flashing shades of amber and ruby in the dwindling daylight. Gone was the warmth of Summer's smile; now, the cold, fierce nip of Autumn cut through the air, whispering secrets about the first frost and what it would do to devastate the green around you.

But you were a god. A creature of fertility and good luck. And so, the grass did not die, and the forest did not wither under the coming winter's threats.

It seemed your gifts could not reach into the depths of your soul, however. Perhaps you weren't to indulge in the privilege of what you brought the world--the mortal things around you could make use of a blessing from the divine, but could the divine themselves? Could you bring yourself a remedy to your loneliness the way you brought life unto the ground beneath your feet?

You didn't know.

–

The end of October came, and the world trembled with the force of thousands of lives ending in misery and terror. You beheld it from your home, the sight of the clouds turning orange and red as hellfire devoured all.

Bless me ‘n wish me luck! Gojo had said last time he swung by. Definitely don't need it, but you're my favourite cheerleader, y'know?

That was not too long ago, perhaps a day prior. Maybe it'd only been twelve hours ago since you last saw him. Three hours ago since you last felt his celestial presence upon the earth.

“I would hate for your visits to stop,” you murmured, and your chest froze with the cold.

–

Winter brought with it snow and darkness. Kuraokami had his ways of slipping his icy presence through the slivered cracks of wood grain no matter the time or place; the great dragon would be heard and seen if it was his final act upon the earth.

Not even you could keep him out, the lesser deity you were. But you didn't mind the company; the cold breaths against your skin woke you from nightmares and empty blankness when you dozed and dazed, feeling the days slip by and blur together into one grey smear of solitary existence.

Something had happened. Ever since the sky lit ablaze in a familiar scene of ungodly strength, you felt a shift in the state of existence. In your relevance in the grand scheme of the college and history.

Your sorcerers lost their way to you, you realized. The cushions around the kotatsu stayed fluffed and untouched save for one. Five of the six clay tea cups gathered dust as they waited, hopeful, like you.

–

You woke to the feeling of hollowness. It jostled you to consciousness, in fact; those two little unborn lives swirled and stirred, clawing at your stomach before vanishing in an instant.

Maybe they'd grown too sick and weary of the loneliness and snow, too.

–

Sukuna had walked down this path too many times. And too many times he'd been unable to move, unable to claw his way out of the prison of his vessel to get back to you–but things were different now.

He held a bundle of blankets close as he wandered toward a speck of verdant green amidst the snowy whiteness blanketing the forest, and remembered a distant past he yearned to return to:

Sukuna was a restless creature. He often distracted himself with challenges, duels, leafing through stolen knowledge of other clans–but, on rare occasions, none of that would appeal to his tumultuous mind.

You always appealed to him, however. You, with your lavish tails, your exquisite appearance, your superior poise and prose, you always enthralled him, made him wonder and stare.

Maybe it was because you were always doing something. If you weren't tending to his women, you were meandering around the palace, admiring trophies earned in whatever form they came in: art, weapons, bones. If you weren't doing that, you might be in the garden instead, fine-tuning the patterns drawn in the zen garden yourself and feeding the massive koi. If not that, then you might be asking Uraume to teach you to cook, or you could be fiddling with your loom or–well, it could be anything.

Sometimes, you’d choose to lay with Sukuna and keep him warm and content throughout the dreary haze of winter.

You didn't hate winter yourself, no, but Sukuna most definitely did. The snow and ice were a pain in the ass, and they always threw the garden into a messy disarray of dead foliage and slushy mud that'd have to be tended to come springtime. And it was cold as hell outside. Who asked for that? No one.

“My love,” you cooed as you stepped to his side while he stared out the window. “Glaring won't make the seasons change.”

Sukuna scoffed. “That a challenge?”

“Not at all.” You reached up and smoothed his hair back, stopping pesky, rebellious strands from tickling his forehead. “I'd hate to see what you'd do in an attempt to play god.”

“I'm already a god,” he countered as he snatched your hand from his hair and looked down at you.

“Not a god of the seasons, I'm afraid.” You held his hand and pulled it down to kiss his knuckles. “But a god amidst men, nonetheless.”

Your beast hummed deep in his chest. You had a funny way of setting his roiling soul at ease with your effortless praise and acknowledgement.

“Knew there was a reason I kept you around,” the man purred, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours.

You leaned up into the soft gesture like a cat too eager to be pet. “You'd be quite bored without me.”

“No kidding. I'd go fucking mental if I didn't have you to entertain me.” His voice was a murmur, then, and softened even more when your warm hands cupped his cheeks like he was a priceless, fragile artifact: precious, special, breakable.

“Yes, yes, I go insane in your stead, loved one.” You touched your nose to his, then, before placing the softest of kisses upon his lips.

A light, sighed grumble slipped past Sukuna's lips when your skin left his. It was his turn to nudge his nose against yours, earning himself a petal-like smile from his prized possession, before he blessed you in return, trying to match the kindness you'd met him with.

You held the front of his garbs as you leaned up into him, and his hands all found their places on your smaller frame in return, pulling you closer, keeping you against him. He hardly wanted anything like this in the past before you came along and tore his mind and soul to pieces before hunkering down in the hollow of his ribs and setting up shop. It was aggravating. Captivating.

“Come,” you softly beckoned, slipping away from his desperate hold and leading him back to the bundle of blankets and linens he’d learned to accept as a bed.

As always, he had no choice but to follow, abandoning his mad-dogging of the outside world to join you and the infinite warmth his personal Amaterasu brought him.

“You’re lazy as hell in the winter,” Sukuna noted as he sat himself down in the middle of your nest and let you get to work adjusting blankets and such around the both of you for optimal comfort.

“You're free to traipse off into the snow if you so wish.” You settled yourself by Sukuna's side and tucked under his heavy arms. “I will remain here. Warm. Dry. At peace.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes and pulled you close to his side, squeezing a chirped purr from your chest. “Think I'll pass on the snow.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm and content with the settling silence engulfing you as the snow engulfed the world. Winter was the only season where he'd stay by your side, so you often indulged in it, bothering him and sticking to him like a needy pet until spring inevitably rolled around to ruin your happy spell. Because Sukuna was more wild and feral than you. He had to go wander, to go fight. Otherwise, he'd have no purpose.

Unbeknownst to you, he may have another purpose in mind.

His hand breached your clothes and reached down, stopping just above your navel to your surprise. There, he drew gentle, thoughtful circles against your skin. You felt pulses of cursed energy flicker and feel, searching for something neither of you yet knew of.

“What is it you're looking for?” You murmured, knowing full well what he sought.

Sukuna inhaled deeply and exhaled just as heavy. “How long does it take to get one god knocked up, huh?” He tutted and looked down at you, holding an annoyed look while you met him with doey, lovey eyes as you leaned into him more.

“I'm sure you'll be the man who finds out.”

Sukuna grinned to himself and adjusted the lump of blankets he held. Arrogant pride blossomed in his chest alongside his bolstered ego; if he could do this as a mere man, what could he do as a curse?

The king sighed as he breached the warmth of the halo surrounding your humble, comfy abode. He was getting sick of the shit weather in the games, all the cold and emptiness. Being near you was what he needed.

“Oi, don't make a fuss,” Sukuna grumbled lowly to the whining duo he adjusted in his arms. “You wanna get inside or not?”

But before he could make use of his newly freed arm, the doors slid open before him.

And you stood there. Tired. Disheveled. Eyes big and hopeful, yet rimmed with disbelief and shock as you stared at your man and the package he brought to your doorstep.

Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't melt, too. Being here, standing firm and whole and so very real and untethered in the spot other sorcerers stood in their attempt to spirit you away from him–it was the reason for his existence.

And so was your arms wrapping around him and holding him close.

“Ho? So you did miss me, huh?” He hummed, looping an arm around you and pressing you closer to him. “Sure didn't act like it earlier.”

“I didn't wish to believe in something that felt untrue,” you murmured into his shoulder. “Even now, you're not…entirely yourself.”

Sorrow stained the undertones of your voice. Whether it was for the fate of Fushiguro Megumi, or for the state of your lover, Sukuna did not know.

But he was here. He was tangible. He was in control. Finally.

“At least I'm here, yeah?” He said. And you nodded.

You led him inside and into the room filled with comfort and warmth. Works of embroidery lined the once-unremarkable tapestries draping down from the ceilings and walls, and the wooden pillars now boasted intricate carvings in various states of completion. Seemed like you'd gotten quite bored in your wait.

Sukuna sat with you, being the man to finally make use of the fluffed cushions around the kotatsu as he dragged it to your side to stay close. You needed it. He thirsted for it.

The bundle whined and cooed as soon as Sukuna’s ass hit the cushion, and he sighed. “Think you can take care of this, fox?” He teased, but felt a rush of something overtake him when he caught you with your ears perked, tails swishing, back straight as you stared down at the bundle.

He eased them into your arms and, with shaking hands, you pulled back the wooly linen to find two perfect little treasures staring up at you with big, red-lined eyes. One held the colour of yours, while the other took responsibility for sporting Sukuna's hues, but both boys’ eyes glimmered with divine flecks of gold and amber. Their hair blushed with the colour of sakura petals, and two, itty bitty tufts of soft onyx ears dotted both of their heads like chocolate chips in strawberry ice cream.

Two perfect kits. Your perfect kits.

“You seriously wanted these things?” Sukuna asked, teasing and rude, but softer and warmer than the fire burning in your chest. “Gotta say, they're pretty fucking annoying.”

You swathed your tails around them and purred with the ferocity of an avalanche as you leaned into your partner and doted on the teeny tiny babies he'd somehow brought back to the land of the living. A part of you felt guilty for what this could mean. The rest of you screamed, I don't care.

“Look at them,” You whispered, tracing the roundness of their cheeks with a gentle touch. “They're beautiful.”

“Well, lookit who their parents are.” Sukuna chuckled and held you against his side, which you eagerly melted into. “Kenjaku had a plan for them too, turns out. Who woulda thought?”

“You never told me,” you said. “Why did you not tell me?”

“You would've been pissed,” Sukuna said, voice matter of fact. “Better to just do it and reap the benefits later.”

You looked up at him, and found his gaze locked onto you. “That's quite selfish.”

“I'm a king. I can do whatever I want. I can have whatever I want,” He reminded you. “As soon as I take care of a few pathetic, loose ends, everything'll be in place. Right where it all needs to be. And life goes back to normal."

Your heart did something funny when you read between the lines. “Must you–”

“Don't question me.” Sukuna grabbed your chin and forced you to look down at your snoozing babes. “You’ll lose this. All of this. You'll be left with nothing all over again if I don’t finish this off. That what you want, fox?”

“You know the answer,” you murmured, too content to let him guide you and sway your reason. He tugged your chin toward him, forcing you to look his way again.

“Tell me anyway.” Tell me what I want to hear.

How could you refuse?

“No matter the case," you murmured, soft as forgotten winter snow, "you will always have my favour, Ryoumen Sukuna.”

–

Forever to be loved, herein lays a God's young,

Imprisoned by none, held dearly by the Disgraced One.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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saffusthings · 12 days

Text

You're Everything I Need (and More)

oscar piastri x personal assistant!reader

summary: the one where they deal with the aftermath word count: 10.6k (…sorry?) warnings: descriptions and talks of abuse, trauma, disassociation, other abuse aftermath, please don't read if any of this stuff is not the vibe, some gore, being threatened by a weapon, whump, poorly edited writing a/n: comments/feedback would be much appreciated! and let me if like it, bc i have some ideas for a mini-series

Part 1

Oscar thinks he must be imagining the way her breathing begins to quicken and she starts to shift, tossing and turning in on the bed. He freezes instantly when he feels her start to squirm beside him- not knowing what to do, whether to move or to pull her closer.

But then she lets out a small noise that sounds eerily like a whimper, and his entire body jolts with panic. Her eyebrows are pinched together - her face is a picture of distress, her body still squirming and shifting restlessly.

He’s half-concerned she’s in pain, half-thinking she’s having a nightmare, and he’s suddenly desperate to figure out which one it is so he can stop it.

“Hey,” he calls, trying to make his voice sharp and loud enough to wake her up but gentle enough not to scare her. “Wake up. Wake up, it's just a dream-“

She mutters in her sleep, her breathing picking up. “Please don’t- Stop, stop-”

“Wake up,” he says again, his heart racing, begging her to wake up so she can stop reliving it. “Wake up - you’re dreaming, it’s not real, c’mon-“

Her eyes fly open, wild and frenzied. Her breaths come in short, quick bursts as she relies on her instincts and uses them to put as much distance between her and the voice emanating from the dark abyss. She rapidly shuffles away from him, ignoring the pain that screams at her from various parts of her body as she does everything to get away from her parents’ wrath.

They’re going to kill her.

She flails away from the figure in the dark, moving her limbs rapidly with only survival at the forefront of her mind. Scrambling to get up, she ends up backed up against the wall, wielding the switchblade she always keeps around defensively.

For a split second, Oscar’s completely frozen.

“Hey,” he tries in the calmest tone he can muster, raising a tentative, open palms slowly. “Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s me, you’re safe, you’re okay-“

“Stop it!” she shouts defensively, pleading. Her chest heaves with each breath. “Jus- Just stop, don’t do this, don’t touch me-“

Oscar freezes again, his face falling in worry. He keeps his hands up, his heart racing as he scans over her. She’s terrified, he thinks, taking in her shaking figure, her hands clutching a knife, her eyes locked onto him like he was a threat.

“No- no, I won’t touch you,” he assures quickly. “I won’t touch you, I’m not gonna touch you, I promise. Just- just breathe, alright?”

Her eyes look around frantically, trying to make sense of things. He’s starting to panic now - she’s still completely lost in her nightmare, still terrified, and every time she looks at him, he’s sure he can see a flicker of fear in her eyes.

Fear of him.

“I’m not gonna touch you,” he says again, his voice still as gentle as he can get it. “Look at me. Just look. It’s me, I’m here, I’m- I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear on my life-“

“Listen to my voice,” he coaxes again, his tone even. “Just listen to me. Concentrate on it. Listen to me, and look at me, and tell me who I am.”

He knows he has to get her to recognize him. He knows it’s the fastest way to get her grounded, to get her back to reality.

“I…” her brows furrow, her heart beating wildly. “I- W…Oscar?W”

“Okay, that’s good,” he murmurs, taking another step closer to her. “That’s good, you’re doing good, listen to me, alright darling? You’re doing good.”

He’s still afraid that she’s going to flinch away from him - that at any second, she’ll realize that she’s trapped against the wall, and start squirming to get away from him again.

“Look at me,” he demands again, more forcefully this time, desperate to get her to open her eyes, to look at him. “Look at me, darling, please.”

She wrings her body from his touch like it burned. “Don’t touch me-“

Immediately, her knife hand is ready, pointing the small weapon.

“I’m not going to,” he responds instantly, his hands flying up in a gesture of surrender. He was not expecting that. He’d only meant to hold her face - keep her gaze on his - but she’d flinched away and was now pointing a knife at his goddamn chest.

And suddenly, he’s terrified.

Not for himself - he’s never scared of her, and he knows rationally that she won’t stab him. He’s terrified that she’s gone back to that state of complete panic, and that if he tries to move, she’ll hurt herself.

He keeps his voice soft and quiet, slowly moving his hand towards the one holding the knife.

“Give me the knife, yeah?” He begins, watching her eyes closely for an indication of her reaction. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, no, no-“ she mumbles, clenching her eyes shut momentarily. “It’s- It’s mine.”

Her arm instinctively moves closer to her, causing her to bend her elbow and weaken her stance. She doesn’t seem to notice, with the perceived threat to the only defense she has.

Tears stream down her face in frustration. She’s so scared, her heart is thudding and she’s only scaring herself more. God, and Oscar is being so patient and collected about this but she can’t seem to fucking calm down-

It breaks his goddamn heart to see her like this. But he has to act quickly, he knows it’s the only way this is going to work. There’s no way she’ll give him the knife - she thinks it’s the only protection against him, against whatever she’s facing.

Which means he has to overpower her to get her to release the weapon.

God- he hates it.

He never ever wants to use any kind of force on her. She’s fragile enough as it is without having to use force on her, but she’s not going to put that knife down on her own. She’s terrified and in panic mode, and the only way to get her grounded is to get her to let the damn weapon go.

He’s going to hate himself for this later, even more than he already does, but he has to.

His hands slowly go up in the air again, pretending to surrender. “Okay, okay,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. “Okay, I won’t take it. Is that better?”

Face wet with tears, she nods weakly. Her mind is a whirlwind - a messy storm of relief that he won’t take her knife away, and confusion as to why she feels horrible about it.

He feels a small sense of relief at her nod, but she still doesn’t lower the weapon in her hand, still pointing it at him warily. With his hands still held carefully in the air, he begins to move a lot slower and with careful, methodical steps towards her.

She’s watching him like a hawk, still pointing the knife at him, but her body seems to have lost some of its tension.

He can see her trembling, her eyes glistening with tears, and he mentally curses himself for the hundredth time for not being able to protect her from the hell that she calls home. He slowly advances, his steps measured and deliberate. He’s close enough to her now, close enough to see the tears staining her face.

With him so close now, Y/N is able to see him better in the darkness of the room. His hair is still mussed up from sleep, his eyes… still familiar and inviting.

Oscar has always had the kind of face that makes you feel like you could talk to him about anything, go to him any time and still feel comfortable. He has a kind face, and certainly a personality to match.

It’s this familiarity and coolness that she recognizes in his eyes now.

The hand holding the switchblade drops marginally in the air, her stance less taut.

A breath escapes him when he sees her hand start to drop, her stance loosening.

It’s working- it’s working. He’s doing something right, thank god.

He takes one more slow step towards her, close enough now to reach out and touch her.

“Oscar,” she breathes shakily in recognition. His familiar silhouette feels like hope in light of the violent thumping in her chest, the panic that’s been coursing through her veins.

She may be afraid - but Oscar’s here.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, an alarm bell is going off at the fact that Oscar is so close - why is he so close?

But it’s difficult for her to focus on that when there’s a knife in her hand and there's people that will make sure that she suffers. So the only thing she seems to register at the moment beside her panicked frenzy is that Oscar is here.

He watches her eyes flit between his face and the knife in her hand, her mind clearly struggling with the confusion of it all. He hates having to do this, really and truly hates that he has to be yet another person in her life forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to.

But it doesn’t change the fact that it has to be done.

His heart breaks at her words, but he reaches out and grips her wrist, forcing her hand to release the knife before she hurts herself or him.

“Osc-” she yelps in surprise, caught off guard. But before she can finish the word, his hand clamps firmly around her hand holding the switchblade. Fingers wrap themselves around her wrist, forming a circle and applying more and more pressure until the muscles there have no choice but to release the grip she has on the knife.

In an instant, Oscar scoops the fallen knife on the sheets beside them and pockets it for the time being.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice rough. “Just look at me.”

He’s ready to pin her the wall and hold her there until she calms down so she won’t flail or fight back or-

Instead, he’s completely caught off guard. It’s like a switch flips the second the knife drops out of her hands.

All the fear that had been hammering against her chest takes the form of a choked out sob. Warm tears roll down her face as every muscle in her body gives out at once - whether in fear or relief or exhaustion, it isn’t clear. Maybe all of the above.

Completely spent and still trembling with sobs, she collapses straight into his arms.

As soon as she collapses, his arms go around her, pulling her tighter against him in a firm and protective embrace. He holds her against him, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down her back, making soft shushing noises to try and soothe her.

“You’re okay,” he mutters, his lips right beside her ear. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

She babbles words about how scared she was and how sorry she is over and over again, most of it practically incoherent.

Her body falls against his as she allows herself to be enveloped in the warm embrace of Oscar’s strong arms.

All he can do is hold her tight, listening to her mumbles and trying to decipher which of them are apologies and which ones are something else. He can feel the dampness of her tears against the skin of his neck and the warmth of her body against his bare chest, and he curses himself internally once again for not being able to protect her sooner.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says quietly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her. “You don’t- you don’t have anything to apologize for, okay? None of this is your fault, absolutely none.”

“I’m so sorry, I almost hurt you, M’so sorry, I was just scared,” she mumbles into his chest. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong me, I’m so sorry–”

“Shhh,” he mutters, shaking his head against her hair, his hand still rubbing up and down her back.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not hurt. I’m fine, I’m right here.”

Even though her eyes are red-rimmed and tearstained and the bruise on her collarbone is almost taunting him, she’s still the most beautiful girl in the world.

He takes a deep breath before asking a question. “Is this something that’s happened before?”

She takes a deep breath before answering. “Well I’ve had nightmares sometimes, I guess,” she explains. They happen often, actually.

“But this one was…” she struggles to find the right word, so she settles for, “…different.”

His hands reach out, tracing a soothing pattern against the small of her back. “Can you explain it? The nightmare?”

“I…” her voice shakes.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, holding her tighter against him. “Don’t force it if you’re not ready, okay? I’m pressuring you to answer, I just-“

He stops himself, taking a deep breath. “I’m just trying to understand what happened. That’s all.”

She nods in understanding. Her fingers find him, playing with them to have something to do with her hands as she tries to keep her voice level.

“It’s a memory, really…” she trails off. “Of tonight. When they…”

He’s not sure whether he wants her to keep going. He can already tell whatever she’s about to say isn’t going to be something easy to hear.

But she’s talking now, and he isn’t about to stop that, not when she needs to actually talk through this kind of stuff. She’s been keeping this bottled up for god knows how long, and now is the time to get the words out.

“When they were… more angry than usual,” she says, wording it as delicately as she can. “They were unhappy with how much I’d been away for work, too busy to be home for them.”

Her voice shakes just a bit when she tells him, “When they didn’t kill me, I guess they tried to beat it out of me.

He can’t help it this time - his grip tightens around her at her words, the muscles in his jaw clenching when he hears them.

“Y/N,” he says gently, still rubbing her back slowly, still trying to coax out the words, “when you say angry, what do you mean by that? How often do they…?”

He knows the answer already.

She’s quiet for a long while, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly against her cheeks as she tries to keep a new set of tears from falling. Then she starts to talk again, her words a soft mumble against his skin.

“More often than just tonight,” she confesses. It’s the best answer she can really give him.

He knew it.

He takes a deep breath, doing everything he can to maintain a neutral expression on his face. The last thing she needs right now is him doing something to send her spiraling again. So instead he just holds her tight, listening to her speak and running a hand soothingly through her hair.

He has to fight to keep his voice steady when he asks the next question. “Those other times… was tonight the worst so far?”

“Yeah.”

His grip on her tightens just a fraction, his heart clenching at the one-word answer.

God, he just wants to protect her. He wants to wrap her up in his arms and never let go - shield her from anyone and everyone trying to hurt her ever again because nobody deserves any of it. And more than that, he hates the fact that there isn’t anything he can do.

“I’m sorry, Oscar,” she hiccups. “I- Fuck… l had a fucking knife pointed at you, god-“

“Don’t be sorry,” he says forcefully. “You were scared, it was a- a defense reaction. Don’t apologize for something like that.”

His fingers reach up, gently tilting her chin up towards him.

“And don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

She curls in closer against his chest, almost as if eliminating the space between means both of them would fuse into one with sheer force of will. A weak hand comes up, sleeve pulled up and over her knuckles, to gently hold the side of his face, tilting it toward her.

His eyes flutter closed at the gesture, and he can’t help but lean into the touch. She’s touching him, in the softest, gentlest way possible, but she’s touching his face and somehow it feels like home.

His own hand reaches up to grip her wrist, and he gently presses a kiss against her palm.

“I could never bring myself to hurt you,” she whispers, but the look in her eyes suggests she’s not even aware that she spoke that thought aloud.

“I’d never want to hurt you. You know that, right? I’d never forgive myself if I did.”

The raw sincerity in her voice actually makes his heart ache a little, and he has to take a deep breath so his voice doesn’t break. He leans his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed.

“I know,” he reassures her. “I never thought for a second that you’d hurt me. I know that you’d never hurt me, okay?”

“Do you really believe that?”

He scoffs a little at the question, shaking his head.

“Of course I do,” he affirms. “One-thousand percent. I trust you more than anyone, I promise you. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“You don’t think I’m some kind of… like, monster?” she asks, dubious.

His expression falls, his jaw clenching again.

“No, no, never,” he murmurs. “Of course I don’t think you’re a monster. You’re the farthest from a monster.”

His thumb gently traces a soothing pattern against the outside of her thigh. “Please tell me you don’t believe that.”

She shrugs. “I’m messed up - unstable. I could have really hurt you tonight.”

“You’re not messed up, you’re not unstable, and you can’t use a traumatic experience, that you had absolutely no control over, as any gauge of what you ‘could’ have done to me,” he argues, his voice firm.

“You didn’t hurt me, you wouldn’t have hurt me,” he tells her with complete conviction. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” The words slip out of her mouth before she can even think about it.

He lets out a breath when he hears her answer, his eyes opening and taking a long, quiet minute just to look at her - taking in the bruise on her collarbone and her split lip, along with the cuts and scratches against her arm.

He gently brushes a hand over the bruise on her collarbone, his touch feather-like and soft.

“Jesus,” he exhales. “They really did a number on you.”

His finger reaches up to gently brush over her split lip.

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she simply shrugs, content with tracing mindless patterns against his sternum and across his chest.

He falls quiet after that, and for a long while - the only sounds filling the room being their breathing, and distant whir of the ceiling fan. Then he speaks, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. “Let me take care of you, please.”

“Hmm?”

His hands reach out to gently cup the sides of her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He tilts her chin up, gently forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You’ve had to take care of yourself for god knows how long, and I get it if you think you’re used to doing everything on your own… but you don’t…” he swallows, his eyes searching her face. “You don’t have to do it alone, okay? Let me take care of you, just a little.”

She just looks at him.

She looks at the genuine earnestness in his eyes, the bags under his eyes from not getting enough sleep tonight. She feels his heart thudding in his chest where her head is leaning against it. She breathes and is immediately met with the scent of him. His eyes are dark brown - they’re warm like honey and have flecks of caramel in them that remind her of the way kindness feels.

She wants to believe him.

He watches her look at him, the expression on her face an unreadable mixture of emotions - he can see a hint of fear and a hint of guilt and a hint of confusion and a hint of hope, all swirling around in her gaze.

She’s just too damn scared to do it. She settles for murmuring, “You already do, Oscar. More than you know.”

He can’t resist the soft smile that immediately emerges at her words.

He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t tell her how many times he’s seen her favorite tea or candy or snack at a gas station and had a small internal debate over grabbing it, and how many times his hand subconsciously ends up reaching for it anyway.

He doesn’t tell her how many times his brain instantly goes to her when he’s working on something that’s giving him a difficult time to solve because he knows she’ll see something he missed.

He doesn’t tell her that he looks forward to the times she randomly texts him an image of a bird or a duck or some other critter with a “hey look at this” caption because it always makes him smile.

He doesn’t tell her how much he enjoys taking care of her, how much he’s glad to be able to do it.

All he does is brush a strand of hair away from her face and murmur a soft yeah in agreement.

She hums softly. “Think we can still catch some sleep tonight?”

He hums, considering the question for a moment. His eyes glance at the clock on the dresser - 4:37am.

He honestly doubts that he could fall back asleep so quickly after everything that’s happened tonight, and he’d be surprised if she could too. If they’re going to be kept awake anyway, he has other ideas about what they could do that’s more entertaining than staring at the ceiling.

“Osc? Y’there?” she mumbles.

He immediately snaps back into the moment at the sound of her voice.

“Y-yeah, I’m here,” he assures her, a hint of guilt present because he didn’t respond right away. “I’m here, I’m here,” he repeats, his arms instinctively pulling her flush against his body.

“Sleep?” she prompts softly, reminding him of her question she was waiting for him to respond to. He hums in agreement - not because he thinks they actually WilloW, but he’s willing to give it a try, at least.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his hand coming up to brush her hair back. “Yeah, let’s sleep.”

“Could…”

He’s just about to close his eyes when he hears her speak, his eyes snapping open again. He turns his head to look down at her, waiting for her to continue what she was going to say.

“Could I lay my head on your chest?” she asks, except the words are mumbled so fast that they’re barely understandable.

He swallows hard before responding, his heart rate increasing when she makes the request.

He nods quickly.

“Yeah-” he affirms. “Yeah, of course-”

He’s in the middle of repositioning himself - so he’s laying on his back - when he realizes that she’s not moving. He pauses, looking down at her still curled against his side, and silently gestures for her to move.

When she still doesn’t move, he gently pulls her up - coaxing her body to move across his and come settle against his chest.

She hums contentedly once they’re settled in - not unlike the manner in which a cat purrs upon finding a comfortable patch of sunlight to curl up in. He wants to laugh at the comparison because it’s both accurate and hilarious.

He doesn’t, though - he just smiles and buries his nose into her hair as she gets comfortable, inhaling the scent of her and taking in the feel of her warmth against his chest.

“G’night, Osc,” she manages to mumble, before the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls her into finally falling asleep.

It takes him a few minutes after she falls asleep to actually relax.

Oscar finds he can’t stop thinking - about the injuries on her body, about her parents, about the past few hours. He’s too wired to actually sleep, but he also finds that he’s not in a hurry to fall asleep, either. He’s much more invested in the feeling of her head against his chest, of her body in his arms, of her warmth against him.

Sleep isn’t something that comes easily to him when he’s already overstimulated and anxious. In fact, it’s something he has to work at - even when he’s not feeling anxious - by doing a breathing technique or counting backwards to make his brain stop so he can sleep. But he finds that right now, with her body wrapped around him so perfectly - he feels his eyes drifting closed against his will, and his muscles relaxing like he’d just gotten out of a hot tub.

He gives in to the feeling, and slowly slips into a peaceful sleep.

When he finally starts to stir awake the next morning, he’s met with the sunlight peeking in from around the curtains, and a lack of a body against his chest.

He blinks and turns his head to look for the girl, only to find the bed empty and his heart rate immediately picking up in panic. He shoots up - ignoring the brief dizzy spell he gets from moving too quickly - before throwing the covers off of him and rushing toward the bathroom - desperate to confirm for himself that she’s still here.

Instead, he's caught off guard by the smell of coffee brewing. Huh?

The sound of the coffee machine stops his panic momentarily, causing his movements to halt as he listens to the steady stream of liquid rushing into the pot.

He’s silent for a few seconds before he starts moving again, his legs carrying him out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway, leaning against the doorframe when he finally lays eyes on her. She’s standing in the kitchen in front of the coffee machine, her body still clad in that damn hoodie.

He can’t help the wave of relief that washes over him when he sees her and realizes that she’s fine - she’s here, and she’s okay, and she didn’t leave.

"Good morning," she greets softly once she notices he's there.

He can’t help the small smile that immediately appears on his face. He knows it’s a stupid thing to get happy over - it’s just a regular greeting after all - but he hasn’t heard her voice in a few hours and he’s honestly missed it.

“Morning,” he greets, his eyes drifting over the counter - which is a scene of organized chaos - trying to see what exactly she’s doing.

"I, um, made coffee," she says, gesturing to the general area of the counter. She's made herself iced coffee using the ice from the fridge, and she's prepared a traveler's cup for him as well - exactly the way he likes. Two years of being the one to pick up his coffee order every time means she has it memorized, probably better than her own.

The idea that she knew exactly how he takes his coffee - down to how much cream and sugar he prefers - makes something stir in his chest, an almost giddy feeling that makes it feel like something erratic is happening to him.

He pushes the feeling down, though, and his eyes instead focus on the counter - taking in the traveler cup in front of him.

“You didn’t have to,” he mutters, pushing himself off the doorway and stepping further into the kitchen.

"Figured I gave you enough trouble last night," she mumbles, embarrassed. "S'the least I could do."

He hates when she does that - turns a situation that’s not even remotely her fault and turns it into something that she feels guilty for.

“You did no such thing,” he says quietly, his voice firm but his eyes gentle, making sure she knows that he genuinely means his words. She chuckles at his answer, before cleaning up the setup she’d used to make the coffees.

“Well, I’m gonna go ahead and figure out what the hell I can wear to work today,” she smiles at him, but it’s tinged with sadness.

“Because we have… “ she glances at his wall clock. “About an hour before we’re both supposed to be at MTC.”

He opens his mouth to say something - anything - but he’s at a complete loss for what to say.

Eventually, he just settles for a quiet, “Right.”

“You’re thinking so hard I can practically hear the gears turning,” she deadpans before taking a sip of her iced coffee. Her words cause the corner of his mouth to lift up at the familiarity - the sarcastic sass that’s been such a staple of their relationship for the past two years.

“Stop being a smartass,” he counters, trying to go for his usual playful banter but ending up at fond instead.

“Only when you stop being a dumbass,” she quips.

This time, she does make him chuckle - a gentle, low sound that’s filled with fondness. His heart settles when she starts acting like normal again - if her normal self isn’t completely present, her teasing will have to suffice.

Once he’s finished taking another sip of his coffee, he finally starts to say what he’s been thinking since she sat down, “You know we’ve gotta talk about last night, right?”

She stills.

“What do you mean?”

He’d been trying to ignore it - and she was acting like her normal sassy self now - but it needs to be addressed. He reaches out and places a careful hand against her arm - his fingertips barely grazing her covered wrist before he stops himself and pulls his hand back.

“Your parents. That needs to be discussed. They need to be reported to the police - you understand that, right?”

“Oscar,” she says, with a tone so cold and final that he’s having a hard time fathoming that it was even coming from her. “Don’t.”

His eyes widen, his mouth opening in disbelief. She can’t possibly be suggesting what he thinks she’s suggesting. He’d thought it was just some kind of weird denial she was living in - not that she was actually going to let her parents get away with hurting her like this.

He can’t help the anger that’s boiling to the surface, his voice raised as he speaks, his hands clenched into fists. "What? You’re seriously actually suggesting that you don’t want to press charges!? Are you crazy?”

She shoots him a look so sharp that he immediately feels guilty for using the word. He stops himself, his face softening when he realizes just how badly he’s stepped out of line.

He’s being insensitive - not to her but to the situation - and he needs to remember that. His eyes immediately soften, his stance opening as if to let her in.

His words come out quiet, but tinged with desperation nonetheless.

“I can’t just let them do that, okay? You can’t expect me to stand by and watch that happen to you and do nothing about it!”

“You can’t.”

He takes a breath, trying to control the growing frustration he feels. He grits his teeth, letting out a slow breath before trying again. In a calm tone, he says, “I won't, if that's what you want. But can I at least ask you why you don't want to do anything about it?”

Her gaze lowers, looking anywhere but at him.

“Because I can’t,” she admits quietly.

When her gaze lowers away from him, he feels his heart clenching in his chest again. His fingers reach out for her chin, tilting it up so she'll look at him. His voice is still gentle as he asks, “Why not?”

“They…” she hesitates. “They have something I care about.”

His eyebrows furrow, his head tilting in response to her words.

What could her parents of all people have that she could care about enough to justify them beating her?

And this is a step - an open door - that he needs to push.

“What do they have, darling?”

“My brothers.”

His eyes widen again, shocked to hear that her brothers are somehow mixed up in this twisted arrangement. His voice is full of disbelief and confusion when he says, “Your brothers? What could your parents have that that could have possibly caused you-“

He hesitates, trying to find the right words to say what he means.

“I don't understand, Y/N. None of this makes sense. How can they- I just don't get it.”

“They take care of my brothers. If I have them prosecuted, I’d be taking my chances that a court would grant me guardianship over them, instead of them just becoming victims of the foster care system,” she explains quietly. “Even as an assistant at McLaren, I don’t make enough to give them the life they deserve - to pay for 2 more people's clothes, food, education and everything else they need.”

It’s out in the open now. She’s never felt like more of a coward in her life than when she confesses, “I need my parents to take care of them because I can’t.”

God, how is she supposed to look him in the eyes after this?

He can sense the shame radiating off of her in waves, and he hates it. She shouldn't have to be the one bearing the burden for her family, while suffering for it as well.

She deserves better.

His face softens, and he gently takes her hands in his, his fingers delicately tracing tiny circles across the inside of her wrist - trying to provide some sort of soothing.

She’s caught off guard by the gesture. She’s not entirely sure what reaction she was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

It hurts him to know that she was expecting a different reaction out of him than kindness and gentle understanding. But he pushes that feeling down, and focuses on being there, and being in this moment with her. He keeps his eyes locked on hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the sensitive skin of her wrist.

“Say something,” she pleads softly, daring to look at him.

For a minute, he just looks at her - looks at the emotion in her eyes, looks at the uncertainty, looks at what she’s feeling but can't seem to be able to put into words.

But he realizes that maybe there isn't anything that needs to be said right now. Not right now, when they're just sitting in this still silence.

He leans down, and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"We're about to be late for work," she deadpans.

He lets out a short, warm chuckle. There we go.

It was the slightest hint of her normal, genuine smile, but it's a start nonetheless. He shrugs in response to her, reaching over to pick up his coffee with his free hand.

"The day can wait," he replies, taking a sip of the warm, aromatic liquid.

“Maybe for you, Mr. Formula One star,” she mumbles absentmindedly as she pulls out her phone. She needs to find some place to pick up business casual clothes in the next 10 minutes or before she’s screwed for work today. Her clothes from last have blood in them, and she certainly can’t very well wear the pajamas she’d borrowed from Oscar for sleeping into the office. She pulls her phone out, and immediately, he's got another idea.

He turns his body to face her, a smirk playing on his lips.

“How do you feel about a little shopping spree, Miss Assistant?” he asks slyly, an eyebrow cocked and his voice teasing.

He's just got it all mapped out in his head - just a quick trip into town to pick up a few essentials and then getting back to MTC all in time for work.

“Huh?” she says not even looking up from her phone. Now where is the nearest Burlington?

He tries to suppress the laugh that threatens to bubble out of his chest at her words. There's just something so completely normal and casual about the fact that she's so nonchalant about being offered to go on what would likely be a £500- £1500 shopping spree. He raises an eyebrow, looking down at her and realizing he'll have to get her attention before she can even hear what he's saying. "Hello? Earth to Assistant - I'm trying to talk to you over here."

She looks up like she’s been caught. “Sorry, I was just-“

He grins, glad to have her attention, even temporarily. "Trying to google Primark? Or TJ Maxx?"

He snorts, shaking his head at her, "I think we can do better than that, young padawan."

“What? No, I-“

"What?" he challenges. "Trying to find the cheapest department store in a five mile radius or something?"

She blushes, embarrassed. “No…”

He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips at seeing her reaction. "I would almost feel insulted if you weren't so damn cute when you're embarrassed."

He looks her up and down, taking in her outfit - or rather, her lack of an outfit.

"You need more than my hoodie and a pair of sweatpants to go into work, Y/N. I'll need to get you some jeans and a few tops-"

She immediately shoots down WthatW idea. “Look, I just need to get an outfit to get through today. I don’t exactly have a place to keep them or the budget, so it’d really be a waste of-“

The mention of money has him sighing again, his eyes rolling. She's so hellbent on trying to not let him spend anything on her - it's almost irritating.

He shakes his head, his eyes boring into hers, his voice serious. "I'm paying, okay? So you can just shove that argument right back up your ass, okay? I've got money, let me spend it. It's not like I have anything else to spend it on anyway."

“Oscar, you can’t - plus, it’s not like I have my own place to keep a bunch of stuff. All I need is the one outfit, really. I’m thinking of checking out one of the spare rooms in Hospitality, and I could probably keep my spare things there.”

He takes a deep sigh at her explanation - her reasoning is just so bloody selfless.

He knows how the spare rooms in Hospitality work - they're basically just tiny makeshift offices. And she has this thought about moving into them?

He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the thought that this is what she's gotten down to is a hard pill to swallow. The anger wells up within him again - at her parents, at the system, at the world for being so un-fucking-fair.

"Look," he says, his voice hard, "I'm not letting you sleep in one of the bloody spare rooms when there's a perfectly good room in my place. You're not doing that bullshit, alright? It's not up for discussion."

"Okay, Oscar. Sure," she says resignedly. She doesn't have the energy to do this right now. She's... tired.

Surely they can go back and forth about this some other time. Right now, she's just trying to make it to work - she can't risk what feels like the only thing she has going for her at the moment.

He hears her agreement, and her tone, and it takes every little ounce of self-control that he has to not get even more frustrated with the situation. He forces himself to take a deep breath, giving her a nod. He can't force her to take him up on his offer - he understands what her pride means - but it's really not going to make life easy for him.

He leans his elbow against the wall, his eyes meeting hers.

"Fine. I will get you the essentials today then. That is something we agree on, right?"

He gives her a look that basically demands she agree with him. This is going to be non-negotiable. She's going to have at least five changes of clothes and necessities like razors and toothpaste at his apartment by the end of the day - period.

Whatever, she thinks to herself. She gives him a polite smile, before turning around to go.

"Hey-" his hand shoots out to grab her wrist gently, his touch just enough to stop her from leaving.

"Hey," he repeats softly, his tone softer with the contact.

When she finally turns to look at him, his eyes are soft, his thumb gently brushing over the sensitive inside of her wrist. He's going to give her a little bit of space right now - a little time to breathe, and then he'll give her another chance.

“Hey,” she repeats, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

He pulls her in closer to him gently.

"We... We're okay, right?" he asks quietly.

Because this isn't how he wants things to be right now. He just wants her to give him a chance - to at least accept that he's trying to help her - that he's trying to make her life just a little bit easier.

He brings up a hand, gently brushing back the strands of hair that have fallen across her face. His voice is soft when he speaks again. "Right?"

“Of course.”

He wants to ask her more questions. Are you upset? Are you okay? Do you need space?

But he doesn't want to push right now.

He brings up his other hand to brush across the small bruises adorning her neck. His voice drops even lower when he asks, "Can I have a kiss?"

Maybe if he keeps things normal - maybe if he lets them just be them - she'll start to open up the way he wants her to.

She presses a soft kiss against his cheek, before pulling away. This time, the smile on her face feels the slightest bit more real. This side of Oscar seems to have that effect on her.

He wants to reach out and kiss her again - really kiss her and make her realize the way he feels about her - but he restrains himself from doing it. He's going to let her call the shots for now, let her decide what she wants this to be like.

But that doesn't mean he can't tease just a little bit.

He cocks an eyebrow at her gesture, letting out a soft snort. "If you're going to aim that low, I'll have to start bending down," he teases.

She rolls her eyes affectionately, and then glances at the time on the wall. “We should get going, yeah?” she asks softly.

He turns his head to follow her gaze to where she's looking at the wall clock, and finally nods. "Yeah. You're right."

He leans in to press a feather-light kiss to her jaw. "I gotta go change real quick, okay?"

“Of course. I’ll be waiting at the door when you’re ready,” she hums.

He gives her one more look - just to reassure himself that things are still okay- and nods, making his way toward his bedroom. He changes into a blue sweatshirt and a pair of jeans in record time, grabbing his wallet, phone and keys before making his way back downstairs to meet her by the door.

“…Oscar?”

He raises an eyebrow as he pulls his shoes on when he hears her call his name. "Yeah?" he responds, finishing tying his laces before standing up straight, his eyes finding hers.

“You… feelin’ okay?”

He blinks, looking at her oddly for a moment while his brain tries to process the completely out of left field question.

Finally, a soft chuckle leaves his mouth.

"Why do you ask?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow. "See something you like?"

“Osc…” she trails off, trying to find the nicest way to say this. “Today is FP1.”

When he blinks at her, she continues, gesturing to his outfit. “You’re supposed to arrive wearing the team kit?” she reminds.

He stares at her blankly for a few seconds - trying to come up with any excuse he can - before ultimately giving up and letting out a long sigh.

"God-" he grumbles, pulling his shoes off his feet again. "Well, you've been doing things to my brain lately, okay? How do you expect me to remember normal human things?"

“It’s what I’m here for,” she says with a roll of her eyes. Technically, she’s right. “Now go change.”

He takes the reprimand with an exasperated roll of his eyes, turning on his heel and muttering something about her being bossy before heading back upstairs. Not five minutes later, he's heading back downstairs in his team kit, wearing a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

“Okay Grumpy, let’s get this show on the road. You good to go?” she asks, checking in to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything else.

He's never been a morning person - and this morning seems to be the worst of all - so his reaction is more disgruntled than normal. He shoves his wallet in his pockets before raising an eyebrow at her. "What do you think?" he counters sarcastically.

“Ouch,” she remarks, wincing emphatically, lips pressed together into a straight line. “Got it.”

He lets out another sigh, shaking his head. He's a grumpy idiot in the mornings, but he can't help it. God knows he's not a morning person.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'm just tired."

He reaches out a hand, taking her hand gently.

"But we've got a day full of work ahead of us. So come on," he says, tugging her toward the door softly. "Let's get going."

He closes the front door softly behind them, locking the door before starting toward the garage - his hand never leaving hers. When they reach the garage, he lets her hand go so he can get behind the wheel. She glances at him, wondering about the missing contact, but by then he’s starting up the car and getting settled into his seat before he looks over at her.

"Seatbelt?" he asks.

“Always,” she confirms, clicking the buckle into place. “Think we still have time to stop at any of the shops?” she asks, hesitant. She knows he has a million more important things to be doing than chauffeuring her to the market for personal shopping .

He scoffs at the suggestion, his eyebrow twitching at the notion.

"Seriously?" he asks, giving her an incredulous look. Sure, maybe he does have more important things to do, but there's a really short list of things that are more important to him than her.

"Of course we've got time. And if we don't, we'll make time."

She smiles sweetly at him, a little relieved by his answer. Of course, she knows still has a hectic day ahead and of course, she’s still worried about time - but it’s a weight off her shoulders to at least have one less thing to worry about.

And Jesus, maybe that kind of smile of hers is dangerous, or something, because the second it's on her face, a soft smile of his own pulls at his mouth.

He figures it’s probably some psychological thing.

He starts up the car - letting out a little noise that's close to a chuckle - his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as he tries to hold himself in check.

He really wants to kiss her right now, but he decides to be good, instead. Be a gentleman, or something. He makes a mental note to be sure to kiss her later, really kiss her. Kiss her until he can't taste words on his tongue, and he can't whisper sweet nothings against their lips, and-

He has to stop his train of thought before it goes in a direction he can't back away from.

So instead, he decides to focus on the drive.

"Let's go."

Once they’re parked in the staff parking at MTC, she turns to him to say, “You can go on in first, yeah? I don’t want them thinking you’re coming in late.”

He can see how much she's putting his needs before her own - and it does something… funny to his ego - a pleasant feeling that makes him smile to himself. He turns to her, reaching over to pull her to him, giving her a sweet kiss. It's just a peck - soft, warm lips pressed against his cheek for a fraction of a second..

When it's done, he pulls back to look her in the eye, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think we're both gonna be late," he says quietly.

“I can be five minutes late, “ she smiles kindly. “I am your assistant, after all. Not you.”

He shakes his head, trying to ignore the way something in his chest warms when he glances over to the passenger seat. Too much caffeine, perhaps. He reaches over to touch her face - but at the last second he changes his mind and goes for her hair, running his hand through the soft locks briefly before he pulls back. "Okay, five. Ten tops," he says, before giving her a look that reminds her there will be consequences if she's any later.

"See you inside. And no getting lost," he teases.

“You got it, boss.”

“…Oscar?” He hears Y/N’s voice as she knocks on the door of his driver’s room. Back to work, back to being professional, it seems.

He hears the sound of his door opening and Y/N's voice filtering through his door - and he's reminded with a jolt that yes, there is, in fact, work to do today. He sits up a little straighter, schooling his expression into one of a professional and putting a polite smile on his face. "Yes, Y/N? Come in."

She peeks her head in, hoping he’s decent this time.

“Here to remind you that you have a meeting with the race engineers before we have the team meeting at 10, followed by FP1 before we round out the first half of the day with lunch at around one.”

His gaze finds hers easily.

She had that look - the one that told him that all the progress they'd made that morning had gone away as soon as she reached work - and he hated it. He'd missed the way she'd looked at him in the car - the way that was so filled with affection that it practically carried its own physical weight.

But that wasn't a look she could wear at work, and he knew that.

So he nods and smiles at her. "Thanks Y/N. I'll be right there."

She checks the time on her phone. “If I’m not mistaken, you were actually supposed to be there… about 7 minutes ago.”

He winces, closing his eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh.

The morning had been too distracting - what with the whole "girl he likes spent the night in his bed" thing - he hasn't given much thought to work. He should have been better prepared than this. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Oscar?” she says, waving a hand in front of him to break him out of whatever daydream he’s in.

They can’t start the strategy analysis meeting without him, obviously, because they’re his race engineers. And yet if Oscar doesn’t show up right about now, the blame is sure to fall on her shoulders since she’s supposed to be his babysitter, apparently.

He takes a breath, giving her a small nod. He's been a complete dumbass today - a distracted, lovesick fool. He needs to get his head in the game. "Yeah, okay, I'm good. Let's go."

“Phone,” she reminds him, as she watches him leave it behind. He turns around, blinking at her before looking down at the desk.

His phone.

It was still there - forgotten on the desk because as soon as she'd come into the room, he'd forgotten all about everything except for her. He shoots her an irritated look, but he picks it up.

He would never admit it in a million years, but the fact that she was being a nag right now was doing something funny to his heart. Must be allergies or something.

“Wallet.”

While it wasn’t needed, Oscar always preferred having it on him instead of leaving it in his room or his locker or his personal car. If he forgot it, he’d just end up having to ask her to go fetch it later.

His other hand goes to his back pocket, confirming that his wallet was already tucked safely inside of it. "I'm not completely incompetent, Y/N - you realize that, yeah?" he says, the words coming out harsher than he meant for them to.

He didn't want to be so rude with her, but he was already running late, and she was being a bit of a nag.

“Yeah? Is your tablet back there too?” she retorts.

He bites his lip, his brain racing to figure out whether he had his tablet or not.

Yes, it turned out. It was right where he'd left it on the edge of his desk - completely forgotten until this minute. He snatches it up, sending her a look, "Anything else I need to be aware of?"

“Just that you have a meeting you’re running 10 minutes late for,” she informs him.

“Well that, and you forgot to lock the car this morning.”

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He can't decide whether he's the most forgetful person on the planet, or the most distracted.

Maybe he's not forgetful, maybe he's just not focused.

Yes, that sounds right. Distracted.

He looks back up at her, a smile playing on his lips, "Anything else I may have forgotten? Like, I don't know, the way to walk to my meeting?"

“Only one way to find out, Sir.”

Fair enough.

"Oh come on, you mean you're not coming with me?" he teases, a smirk on his face as he reaches for the door handle.

“Of course not.” The face she makes suggests that that is obvious. “While you’ve got a meeting here with our race engineers, I’ve got to go meet with Lando and his team.”

He stops and turns back around, his eyes fixed on hers. "Lando? You're going to run off to talk to Lando all day?"

"Well there's a meeting with him and his team plus Zak, and I'd agreed to be your stand-in since you can't be in two places at once, so... yes."

He knows she's just doing her job, and he knows that it's completely irrational to be so jealous of her talking to Lando of all people.

Lando is a member of the team, and one of his closest friends.

That didn't stop the thick plasma of jealousy from clawing at his gut - he knows that Lando's got a soft spot for her. He tries his absolute best to play things off so he can seem cool and unaffected by her words, "Right. Got it."

She misunderstands his upset for something else.

She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about missing the meeting with Zak, okay? It'll probably be only like half an hour, and I promise to take good notes for you.”

She gives him a small smile. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

There's a warmth spreading through his body at her reassurance.

She'd misunderstood him - she thinks that he's upset at missing the meeting with Zak. And she's right in a way - he should be upset because he does need to be at that meeting - but all he can focus on is the way she's smiling at him.

And the way she's touching his shoulder. And the way her fingers feel against him.

His eyes lock on hers.

They're interrupted by the sound of one of the race engineer's that Oscar is meant to be in a meeting with calling out to him from one of the meeting rooms.

"Right, right. I should-" he trails off, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "I'll see you later, okay?"

She says the same thing to him then that she says to him later, right before he heads out for FP1.

"Go make me proud."

He can't help but laugh at that - at the fact that she's treating him like he's a kid or a puppy or something. But here she is, being his assistant, his friend, his something - and her words are somehow the thing that's got him feeling ready to kick ass and take names.

Weird.

Once FP1 is over and done, everyone has worked up an appetite. Chattering voices fill the hallways as racers, assistants and various team members make their way to the main cafeteria.

Oscar finds himself on the listening end of Lando’s rambles about things he noted about the car during their practice as they find a table to sit at.

He's not really listening to any of the words coming out of Lando's mouth - he can't stop thinking about how she'd wished him luck before he went out to FP1.

He'd actually had a surprisingly good session. One of his best, even. No one else had tried that risky move in corner 9 that he'd tried - and the engineers seemed really impressed by his times.

So she'd been right - he had made her proud. He'd made himself proud as well.

When he finally does take a long enough break to pay attention to Lando's one-sided conversation, he realizes that the topic of conversation has already changed four or five times and he's completely lost. He sighs, trying to catch back up at some point in the monologue about Lando's new apartment in Woking or something.

"Sorry - uh, what was that?"

“Dude, you there? You looked totally out right then,” Lando chuckles, before putting a forkful of tofu in mouth.

Lando's tofu looks awful.

He's never going to understand why he's such a health nut.

"I'm just-" he trails off, trying to find the words. He tries to come up with some excuse, but his mind is blank.

“What? Lookin’ for somethin’?” Lando asks, brows furrowed, and through a mouthful of drab-looking quinoa.

He shrugs, trying to play innocent. "Just… thinking." He's never thought about anyone else as much as he finds himself thinking about her lately - and they're not even really dating or anything. Hell, they'd just made out the night before.

“C’mon, mate. Spit it out already - you look…” he gives Oscar a judgemental once over. “Like your constipated or some shit.”

Meanwhile Oscar is thinking about where she could be. She’s his assistant after all - the three of them tend to have lunch together on race weekends. Plus, everyone else is here - so where the hell is she?

He chuckles - he's had way more embarrassing conversations with Lando before.

"Constipated?" the Aussie counters, "More like in love. I'm having girl problems."

Lando, as wonderfully attention deficit as he is, seems to take that idea and run with it. He shovels another messy bite into his mouth. “Say, speaking of girls - where’s Y/N? Isn’t she usually here by now?”

Oscar snorts, reaching over to wipe a piece of quinoa from the corner of his teammate’s mouth.

It's messy. The way Lando eats is gross.

"No clue. She's not with you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He's only asking to be polite. If for whatever reason she was with Lando, he'd be pissed.

“Nah,” he says, shaking his head in a way that makes his messy curls fall a little onto his forehead. “Last I saw her was when we left Zak’s office. Think she said summ’in about needing to grab something from her office?”

Oscar tries to fight the urge to get up and look for her. She’s his assistant, not his cat or something. Maybe she just wasn’t in the mood for lunch together today, or she could have an errand to run, or maybe she’s in a meeting that wasn’t in her calendar-

Lando must see the slight concern on his face, because he chuckles. "What, d’you miss her or something? You've been acting all weird since she left."

Oscar shakes his head, trying to play it off. "I'm just- I'm just wondering, y'know? She's supposed to be here, isn't she?" His stomach is tightening. Something feels weird about this. Maybe he should go find her?

“We could check on her if you want,” Lando offers.

Oscar's eyes brighten at the suggestion. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.

"Yeah. I think that would be…" he trails off, trying to think of the word.He nods, trying to pretend that she's not taking up literally all of the space in his brain.

"Yeah, yeah, let me just throw this in the bin," Lando mutters, getting to throw his trash away. These new biodegradable straws were supposed to be good, something about them turning to compost for the environment. Instead, they decided to become compost-y mush in Lando’s mouth - every time.

They make their way down the corridor to her office, approaching the open door. It’s empty. He exchanges a look with Lando, Oscar taking a deep breath as he pushes the door open. Lando waits somewhat awkwardly by the entrance to the restroom, unsure if he’s allowed to intrude or if he’s meant to just be moral support.

Oscar peeks his head in, taking a glance around. He sees a row of sinks, and no-one else.

"Y/N?" he calls out gently.

He hears a faint gurgle in response. It sounds like it’s coming from one of the stalls further back, actually. The sound makes Oscar's stomach drop. It sounds like she's puking, or maybe choking. He runs over to all of the other stalls, his knuckles knocking loudly on them as he tries to get someone's attention. He calls out her name, hoping the sound of her voice will put this all to rest.

“Y/N, come out." he repeats, his voice desperate and worried.

When he knocks on the door to the last stall, the door budges. It isn’t locked.

He hears the sound of her retching coming from within, followed by a long, dry cough.

Something tells him that this wouldn't be a good moment to go in - that he shouldn't look right now. But he doesn’t even give it a second thought. His mind is consumed with the thought of her - his concern for her, his person.

He slowly pushes open the bathroom stall door, bracing himself for the sight before him. He finds a hunched over figure leaning against the wall, fatigued. But she tilts her face marginally in his direction, and Oscar’s heart stills in his fucking chest.

Her lips - the same ones that had been pressed against his just hours ago - are smeared with blood. Her teeth are speckled with it. Red splatters and spots of blood marr the front of her blouse.

All of the air drains from his lungs at once. The air thickens. He can't move.

What the hell even happened?

He tries to speak, but he can't get a word out. So what does he do?

He does the one thing he can - he moves in to hold her.

“O- Oscar,” she trembles, too busy to be bothered to be professional.

“I think s- something’s wrong…”

Part 3

a/n: thank you so much for making it this far! i'd love to hear what you thought of it :)

#formula 1 fic #oscar x assistant!reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar my beloved #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 fanfic #pls read this and validate me #sorry for the cliffhanger

240 notes · View notes

whiskeyskin · 7 months

Text

Make Me Feel

Premise: What's that? The well trodden trope of weird potion creates problems of the - ahem - 🍆 variety? Well if you insist.

• Astarion x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating

They/them pronouns, Potion mishap!, interrupted masturbation, handjob, bj/deep throat, embarrassment, tone shift, mild canon trauma discussion, connection, enthusiastic consent, communication, dirty talk.

4.1k words

Edit: RAHHH! You're all so wonderful for getting me over 200 notes 😚 it may be a small number for some but to me it's a lot. Love you! 🥹🖤

Editedit: Over 400 notes?! Excuse me as I ugly cry 😭😭😚✨

Thank @northernolddragon for the beautiful screenshot 💜🥵

•°•°•

Tav was on watch with Shadowheart this evening, not that they really needed to with Gale's wards keeping an alarm on things coming in or out of camp but they all slept better with a night watch.

They'd enjoyed company and conversation as they spoke about everything and nothing. Mostly about Tav, since Shadowheart had very little memories to share.

A friendship had steadily grown with them, so much that she'd revealed herself a Sharron - which wasn't really a shock.

A low alarm pulsed and they went to investigate to the left of camp but after a little cooperation between Tav's survival skills and Heart's perception, concluded that an animal had triggered the alarm - hence the low pulse and the fresh animal tracks belonging to a rabbit.

Tav paused a moment, a thought flashing across their mind. They called to Shadowheart, "Hey, did you hear Astarion come back in from hunting?

"No, he didn't go out tonight. Said, 'he had something else to attend to'."

Again, Tav paused. Oh, shit. Had they promised he could feed tonight and completely forgotten?

"Are you supposed to be 'dining tonight'?" Shadowheart asked through a smirk.

"I don't think so.. maybe? Oh, gods. Maybe I did say." Said Tav, trying to think back on the day.

"Go check on him, see if he's waiting up for a midnight snack. I'll stay on watch." She pursed her lips and swished her long braid as she walked to do a patrol of the camp.

~~~

Tav quietly made their way passed the tents of their companions, who were softly - or loudly - snoring. Astarion's tent however still had a candle going and made no sounds of sleep, or revery but rather stranger noises. Hissing sounds from the side of his mouth and what seemed like a painful gasp.

Their brow creased with concern, Tav stepped up to the entrance of his tent. The noises intensified.

"Astarion?" Tav called through the fabric in a hushed whisper, "Are you alright?"

A choked noise of frustration replied to them first, "Uh-yes. I'm perfectly fine. Why do ask?" He retorted a little too sharply, despite his usual lulling tones.

"Shadowheart said you hadn't gone hunting and I couldn't remember if I'd agreed to let you feed tonight."

"Ah, you're such a sweetheart.. while I always delight in our little nightly visits, I've rather got my hands full with something at the moment." He strained, like he was in pain. Something wasn't right.

"Astarion. What's going on? I know something's wrong. What is it? What have you done?" Tav asked, exasperated.

"Ughh, it's nothing just-Arghh" he let out a muffled cry.

"I'm coming in." Tav announced, pushing their way inside the dimly lit interior.

"No, no, don't!" But it was too late.

Tav's mouth flew to their face, shocked at the view.

There, on the floor, in only his ruffled shirt and barely covered in his grotty blanket was Astarion. Although, the blanket was more of tent itself with what it was shielding.

"Oh! Oh, shit. Sorry-sorry! I'll leave." Tav blustered at the sight of the half naked pale elf on the floor before them. They'd clearly not been sounds of pain, and the frustration was aimed at them not leaving him to masturbate in peace.

"No, stay. Please." He croaked, desperate, "I don't know what else to do; I need your help."

"With what?" Tav questioned, averting their eyes to afford him some sort of privacy.

"I appreciate the gallantry but we can do away with the charade, you know what I was doing." He sulked, shifting his weight to sit up, the ruffles on his shirt bristling as he heaved himself upwards.

Tav's eyes tracked the movement and flitted down to the protrusion, unwavering in it's vigil against the thin protection of his grey comfort rag.

Hot flashes of memories seared their mind; remembering how it felt in their hands, hot and cool at the same time. Harder than rock as he'd moved within them, expertly stroking their sweet spot while feeding openly on their blood.

Tav bit their lip, then jolting back to the situation, looked away.

"Um, you said you needed my help. I don't know how I can-"

"I have been.. doing this to myself for the past three hours. It's incessant."

"Jeez, Astarion. I don't need to know that."

"Not for my own selfish good. I-" he growled to himself, it made Tav's stomach flip uncomfortably, "I drank something. It looked like a normal potion, but it tasted a bit off.. and now, this." He gestured to the distinct lump, "It's unbearable and painful if it's not being.. used." He paused, discomfort clear on his face.

A blush flooded Tav's cheeks, "Aaand, you want me to help by..?" They trailed, needing more explanation. Because if he was suggesting what they thought he was suggesting...

"Ugh, I don't know. This obviously isn't helping! Find something that can? Another potion, a spell? Anything!" He waved his arms helplessly into the air.

Astarion looked up at them; his shirt in disarray, his legs gently folded with the blanket tucked between them, with guilty but adamant eyes. He looked helpless and adorable.

A feeling was stirring in Tav's chest, something rumbling and loud but it wasn't arousal, it was laughter. They caught a snicker behind their hand, trying to hold in their amusement.

Astarion's face changed to surprise, with a big frown cutting across his beautiful features.

"Well, thanks a lot. Glad the bleeding heart thinks it's funny." He pouted.

"Oh, come on Astarion. It's pretty funny."

Astarion's eyes narrowed, "How precisely is this funny?" He demanded.

"It's so unfunny that it's funny again. It has to be laughed at how ridiculous this is. I mean, come on." They tried to explain, "you drank a strange elixir and now you have an erection that won't fuck off." Tav barely made it through the last word without sniggering, "You've been beating yourself stupid and it's not going anywhere. It's a fucking ridiculous situation to be in and if you can't laugh about it? Fuck." They shrugged, smiling brightly and encouraging him to see the funny side of this ridiculousness, "I thought you said Lae'zel was the one with no sense of humour."

"Actually, Lae'zel is hilarious. She just doesn't realise she's being hilarious," The frown on his face softened, a smile clearly fighting to spread across his face, "I suppose it is absurd. Most men would kill for this."

"Most people would pay good money for this problem!" Tav squeaked, "Oh gods, the old men that have given all their gold for this problem!" They whined out before coming down to kneel on the floor.

"All of them furiously masturbating to get rid of it after their mistress has left and their wife will notice." He chuckled.

"Oh, the scandal." Tav flourished.

"What would the neighbours say?" He jested, opening up to the idea that the incredulity of it all needed to be laughed at.

He mimed trying to push it down only for it to spring back up with a pop sound effect provided by him and they fell about cackling together.

It was nice. Seeing him smile.

~~~

They sat laughing for a while, trying to come up with unfortunate scenarios to find yourself in with this predicament. Each as hilarious as the next.

Howls turned giggles, and giggles turned to titters, until eventually they were all laughed out.

There was a comfortable silence between them for several moments. Tav glanced back at him.

"Did that help? Taking your mind off it?" Tav asked, hopeful.

"I'm afraid not. Still there. Although, it's taken away the urgency of needing that release."

"That's a start at least. What the hell's did you drink?"

"I don't know, it was in the pack from today's adventure with the hag."

"You drank one of the hag's potions?" Tav chided, incredulous.

"Of course not! What do you take me for?"

Tav raised their brows and wordlessly gestured to his lap.

"Point taken," he relented, "but, no it was a regular looking potion bottle. I needed a little healing, so I.." he trailed off, loosely waving a hand.

"You drank a random potion from today, before we'd had a chance to examine it and expected nothing to go wrong. You brought this on yourself." Tav pursed their lips mockingly.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, dear. What am I going to do?" He asked, exasperated.

"Well, masturbating yourself sore hasn't worked, so it can't be about orgasming it out of you."

"Oh, I haven't orgasmed. That's what I was trying to tell you before, but in my feverish haze didn't get out into words properly."

"After three hours?" Tav asked, wide eyed.

"It was more stop/start than powering through. I'm drawing the assumption that while this potion grants me this bloody thing, it doesn't heighten the sensation much."

"Maybe it deadens it? To keep it going longer? That's why you couldn't.. yuh know." Tav mimed the action for affect. They shared a small titter through their noses.

"I haven't a clue. Although, I'm not really.. versed in this sort of thing. It's not something I do, not something I've done for centuries," he admitted, shrugging, "Self pleasure wasn't high on the list when the thought of touching anyone, let alone yourself made your skin crawl-" Astarion caught himself, his eyes widening.

Tav's mouth gaped, "What?" The question came out breathy and low. Hurt struck painfully into their heart, "So the night we spent together you were disgusted-"

"-No. No. Well, at first it I was a little but-"

Tav's eyed widened and they recoiled, wounded. He knew he'd revealed too much and Tav could see that flawless mask of his was trying to slot back into place after it's momentary lapse.

"Don't." Tav urged, "Don't pretend you didn't say it."

"It wasn't like that-I didn't mean you, you're wonderful. I meant in Baldur's Gate with Cazador. The manipulation, the deceit. I couldn't. I never." He stopped himself.

Tav softened, the harm still stinging but this was important. Astarion had never spoken about his time with Cazador apart from being a slave and using sex to lure people back. He hadn't elaborated more than those facts. Obviously, he would have sexual trauma.. and he'd opened up a chance at the conversation.

"It's alright. I'm here to listen. Go on." Their tone was low and understanding.

His face full of uncertainty and shame, Astarion shook his head and refused to look at them.

"I don't want to. Not yet. Not now. I mean.. I just want this thing gone." He motioned to his still swollen member.

Tav's brow knitted and they shrugged heavily.

"Apart from distracting you from it, I don't know what I can do." Tav raised their hands in exasperation, "I mean if you can't do it after three hours, what am I supposed to do-"

"Trust me, you'd be able to help." He said darkly, almost to himself. His gaze darted back, scared by another accidental confession. Tav's confused expression must have been clearly legible.

"What do you mean?"

Astarion averted his eyes, clearly debating on letting more of his secrets out.

"Shit." He cursed. There was a pregnant pause that Tav refused to break.

"You-" he stopped himself, "the other night at the party was- it was-" he shut his eyes and sighed through his nose, "I can't do this, you can leave. I'll just keep this forever."

"Astarion.." Tav said softly, gently reached a reassuring hand to the floor beside him.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed.

"It was the first time I've known actual pleasure in almost 200 years. Where I actually enjoyed myself, much to my surprise."

Suddenly feeling relieved and very flattered, Tav remained stone-faced silent, encouraging him to keep going.

"My existence has been about having my body used to lure back pretty things for him. To get them to trust me and let their guard down, then.." he trailed off, "I tried to make the most of it and relish in the copious amounts of sex I was having.. It didn't last long. I got extremely good at pretending I did, they never suspected a thing." He said with a sneer.

"I became numb to the entire experience. It was nothing to me. A dance. A deception. It became second nature and I got used to the disgust I felt, I used it to push through. To hold onto some semblance that I had one shred of humanity left. As long as I despised myself for what I was doing, there was still hope."

"So imagine my shock when I actually felt something different with you. Something good." He finally looked in their eyes, "You are a bastion of firsts in this newfound freedom of mine. My first true blood, the first person who has let me indulge in my instincts and helped me grow in my power," Astarion swallowed, "the first person in so long to make feel something.. anything.. during sex that wasn't hatred and self-loathing."

Tav's throat closed and tears threatened to brim but they blinked them back.

"You offered your neck to me, your life blood to me and I felt something.. it wasn't like our usual feeds.. it was something immense.. something transcendant and I.. I lost myself in you.. wholly. Pleasure had returned to my body and I froze. I didn't know what to do."

"Nothing else existed outside us.. and I could have spent the rest of my life buried inside you," he paused, closing his eyes as if the memory over-powered him. Tav sat there, breathless, mesmerised by his beauty in the candle's soft glow.

"I think I came back to consciousness when I saw my seed over your beautiful body. You looked just as shocked as I felt. It was all over your chest, your mouth.." he was breathing heavily now and the air around them shifted. Tav swallowed dryly. They remembered.

The grunting, ecstatic moan he'd made just before he came over them echoed in their mind long after. They'd pulled back from lavishing his thick, pale cock to pause for breath and to whisper sweet words to him. He'd erupted on them with no more than a silent gasp and a hand fisted in their hair.

Staring deeply into Tav's eyes, Astarion continued, "You took me so well," he brought a hand to their bottom lip, grazing it lightly with his fingertips, "With your mouth.. with all of your holes, actually. Your wonderfully tight holes." He moaned through a sly smile.

Tav's mouth was aridly dry, as all the blood in their body rippled and pooled to their core. Heat radiated through them and quickly made breathing steadily a problem, and logical thinking was non-existent.

"I know you could do it again, if you wanted to." He closed his eyes and snaked himself closer against Tav's neck, inhaling deeply. His breath cool raising gooseflesh, as he pressed his lips against the shell of their ear, "You could wrap those soft lips around my cock and suck me like you did in the forest. So deep and so warm."

Tav's thoughts were like wading through thick, soupy mud as Astarion's words clouded their mind and flooded their body with desire.

"I've never been devoured quite like that, you fit yourself around me so well.. you were such a good f-"

Tav quickly brought their hand to his mouth. He had to be silenced. His seductive power was too much to leave unbridled.

Mentally shaking off his charms, Tav came some what back to their senses.

"In one breath you tell me how disgusted you are with sex and the next you say about wanting my 'tight holes'? What is it that you want, Astarion? You can't have it both ways."

"Of course I can, darling. Now I can. Things have changed. Lots of things. I have my body back and I decide what to do with it. And right now.." he moved with the lithe limbs of a panther to sidle himself beside them, the grey blanket gently pulling back to reveal his thick, swollen manhood. He exhaled at the softness leaving him, "I want.."

Tav swallowed hard, their lips parted. Another wave of euphoric desire swept over them as the cool touch of his skin ghosted against theirs.

Astarion reached over and grasped their hand and placed it on his engorged cock.

"This." He hissed as their skin finally touched, his cool hardness welcome in their palm.

Gods, he was so erect. The veins in his thick shaft pulsating. The velvet softness of him thrummed with desperate need.

He was so close to them, so close now.. they could kiss if he wanted them to. Astarion breathed against Tav's mouth, "Touch me."

He started to move both their hands in short bursts over the head of his penis, Astarion shuddered out a gasp and screwed his eyes shut, "Touch me. Please."

Tav willingly acquiesced, bending down to spit on his painfully erect cock and began to work.

He made a staggered, breathless moan as he leaned back on both hands, exposing himself to them. Tav pumped his rock hard length in a steady rhythm, remembering back to the Tiefling party that he had appreciated the gentle building of friction, to fruition.

His head was purple and looked sore from his abusing himself for so long in search of relief. Tav generated salvia in their mouth and spat on their other hand to use on him.

The sweetest moan they'd ever heard sang from Astarion's chest.

"Yes-yes-use your hands on me.. make me feel like before.. make me feel-" he gasped through the last word so ferociously he inadvertently bared his fangs.

Tav used their hands in symbiotic motion; pumping the bottom of his shaft with their non-dominant, while teasing and playing with the head between their deft fingers, all the while keeping his entirety slick in saliva.

Gods, they wanted to use their mouth on him properly. He looked so beautiful, unmasked before them. He had been so unexpectedly naked and raw with his past. Revealing hard and difficult truths regarding his lack of control, and autonomy of his own body.

And Tav had to respect that, no matter how aroused they were. They would show that his trust was placed rightly in them.

"Astarion?" They called softly to him.

He answered back with a broken, "Mhm?"

"Thank you for telling me what you did. I won't tell anyone else, you have my word."

"Mm-mm-thankyou, Tav." He managed, his voice tense.

Tav slowed their pace and Astarion let out a whine, balling up his fists in frustration.

"Don't pretend with me. Don't force it."

"I'm not, I swear." He gasped, looking directly at them, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his upper lip.

Tav smirked, "Promise you won't."

"Yes-yes, I promise. Please speed up again." He pleaded through gritted teeth, thumping his head back on the pillow.

"I will. But I'd like to use my mouth on you aswell, would that be okay?"

He let out a pent up huff of air, "Oh gods yes, yes, yes-please use that gorgeous mouth on me. Swallow me. Take me."

Tav smiled and quickly got into position, propped between his legs, "I'd also like to play with your testicles, if that's agreeable."

Astarion wrenched his red hot eyes open, making contact with theirs again. Tav irked a suggestive brow.

A devilish grin crossed his face, once again his fangs shone in the dim candle light, "Oh, my dear. That would be most agreeable." He purred through steadier breaths now they had paused.

"One request from me though; don't push my head down, I don't like it. I'll respect your wishes and you respect mine. Deal?"

"Deal." He smiled and reached down to collect his shirt up to reveal his pale, chiseled body. Tav looked hungrily at his toned flesh, desperate to snake it with their tongue.

They took a breath to ask but Astarion interrupted, "Yes, gods please yes! Lick me, kiss me, bite me, suck it. Do what you want with me.. I'll tell you to stop if it's too much."

"I'll hold you to that." They crooned with a serious edge, as they spat on their hand again, then manoeuvred themselves to be able to kiss his beautiful body, and pump the head simultaneously.

He twitched at the increase in contact and laughed hungrily through strained teeth, "Uhhgh, fuck yes."

Tav lavished their lips and tongue across the defined muscles, gently sucking and nibbling occasionally for added sensation. They kissed and dragged their tongue up and down the V in his hips, paying equal and excruciating mind to each side, making Astarion moan and buck.

Tav firmly pressed kisses on the creases of his pelvis, breathing hot over the area. They took their time, languishing over his form with their mouth, exploring the contours of his hips and thighs with their spare hand. Astarion groaned in vexation.

"Ooh, don't tease me. Please."

"The potion is making you impatient. You enjoyed this last time." Tav reminded him.

"It's not the bloody potion-Gods above-AUGH-I'm asking nicely. Don't keep me waiting any longer, I've already been edged enough. Show me-make me feel-let me feel-"

Astarion gasped as Tav collected the precum that bloomed at his tip, and licked their fingers clean, before deftly angling themselves to engulf his thick cock as much as they could.

The noises that were illicited from the pale elf were unlike any they'd ever heard before - strained and trembling, through gritted teeth and grounded fists - and the sloppy, wet sounds that their mouth made around his unyielding cock were intentionally and debaucherously pornographic.

Momentarily retreating, they began flicking their tongue over the slit, Tav moaned from the back of their throat like he was a tall mug of water quenching debilitating thirst. One hand holding his length steady, the other lightly grazing his testes.

Astarion's thighs fluttered and tensed, as Tav heard a smile through his own moan, "Ooh, that's new."

"Mhm."

Gathering more sleek, Tav ran the flat of their tongue up the smooth underplane of Astarion's cock from base to tip, and encircled the head. His member twitched unconsciously as he let out a warm, low rumble from his chest.

"Is that alright? Not too much?" Tav asked, checking in. They kissed the crease of his frenulum, while nimbly massaging and squeezing his sac.

"Mm-mhm-yes. I'm gaining quite an appetite for your skills in this area." He cooed, shifting underneath them, "but I remember a rather more deeper approach last time."

Tav grinned at his less than subtle request, "Oh, my darling. We're just warming up.. but if you're ready for more. I will, of course.. oblige."

Unhinging their jaw like a snake preparing to consume their pray, Tav gorged on the willing partner in front of them.

Astarion sucked in a gasp and Tav felt a hand on the back of their head briefly, before being removed hastily. Tav heard his fist pound into the bedroll beside him. They moaned in thanks, vibrating against his solid shaft.

He replied with a deep rumble from his chest, "Yes.. that's what I've been missing. This is what I needed.."

Bobbing and dipping, taking just a little more in their mouth each time. Sucking and stroking his perfect length. Their mouth salivated and filled with lubricant, anticipating the meal in front of them. Meeting their lips on their pumping fist, working together harmoniously.

Tav relaxed their throat further and began swallowing the last length of him, valiantly suppressing the need to gag until it would afford the most pleasure. They flattened their tongue and swallowed, sucked and gagged as Astarion whimpered and moaned, unconsciously jerking. Tav placed a hand on his hips to steady him, to not ruin the mood by choking unexpectedly.

They pressed down just above his pubic bone as their lips bottomed out against him, tears forming wet stains under their eyes at the challenge of taking his full size. Tav gulped and gasped against his cock, enveloping him with their tongue and throat working in tandem, coating him in liquid slick. The debased, vile sounds coming from their meeting wet and loud and hot as the hells; pushing him higher, dragging him under, coercing him to cum.

He gasped and raised his head to look down at them. Tav met his tear-streaked, claret gaze, with their own.

"Ohh-yes-yes-look at me as you devour my cock-take it all the way down your throat-such a good-nasty-AHH-YES!" He gargled the last word through moans and his hips pulsated and thrust wantonly as he bunched his shirt in his hand, the other fisted around his greyed rag blanket.

His brows creased, his face wracked with pleasure and pain. His face contorted and twisted as he writhed and moaned. He panted and heaved and shook his head from side to side.

Concern furrowed their brow at his expressions, while he seemed to be "enjoying himself", they were reminded of his words from their conversation, that his sexual conquests couldn't tell that he was pretending.

Tav pulled back to breathe through their nose. They reached out with the tadpole and gently stroked his mind, seeking reassurance that this was what he wanted. That he wasn't pretending. That this was real. That this was what he wanted.

That enthusiastic consent was all they required.

"Yesyesyesyes-oh gods-please don't stop-choke on my cock till you can't breathe-ARH-going to cum down your throat and taste myself on your tongue-fuck!-fuck my hard cock deep in your throat-do it-do it-doit-doit-doit" he repeated, trailing off in whimpers against his soiled comfort blanket.

This was a challenge that they would unabashedly attempt to conquer. They had no idea if they could; he hadn't fed on them this time and the potion was an unknown quantity for help, or hindrance. They had no idea. But damned if they weren't going to try. Tav steeled themself and took a deep breath.

They made no illusions at a slow build in tension, they went straight for the kill.

Straining down his hard length to the hilt, making the most illicit and disgusting sodden noises as they consumed him, squeezing him with the throat that tried to resist his intrusion.

Astarion growled and whined and shook with the tension in his body coiled so tightly.

Tav stretched their jaw to lap their tongue against his balls, which tightened due to the expected feeling. He rewarded their efforts with another mumbled, half coherent onslaught of praise and explicit desires.

They re-applyed the pressure on his pubus, pushing down firmly against his taut skin.

A breathless gasp shot from his throat as the hand bunched in his shirt now flew to grasp their hand with choruses of, "yes-yes-yes!"

He was so close, they could feel it. His precum tainted the back of their throat. His jaw was tight and his glistening fangs were bared.

Tav remembered back once more to what had unexpectedly tipped him over the edge when they'd made him cum the last time.

Concentrating hard on keeping the fast-paced rhythm, tears streaming from their eyes, they flipped their hand to hold his properly.

Tav reached out through their connection and whispered, "I've got you, Astarion.. you're safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise.. I have you.. Cum, Astarion.. cum, my love."

Astarion stilled, his every muscle contracting and seizing, his chest rising off the floor as his spine curved.

A gentle, surprised gasp escaped from his mouth. He squeezed their hand so tightly as their name died on his lips.

Suddenly Tav felt warmth shoot against the back of their throat as he came hot and quick, filling their mouth and spilling out the sides and he thrust wildly, unable to control his movements. His cries of pleasure muted and gasping.

Tav gagged and slowed to a gentler pace, swallowing him down. Astarion twitched and quivered as they saw him through his climax; still holding each others hand.

His soft, whimpering groans dissolved into laboured heaves as he relaxed into the lull of his orgasm.

A moan shuddered from him as Tav expertly extracated his thankfully - slightly - softening member from their stretched throat.

They tenderly cleaned him up with their tongue, as there was quite a lot that had spilled from his heavy, metallic-tanged load, while Astarion lay there in stunned silence.

Tav dried their eyes and gently rested their chin on his thigh and sighed deeply, their hands still joined on his stomach.

They kissed his cool skin, "Are you alive up there?" Tav asked, jokingly.

Silence.

If he wasn't already dead, they'd have thought he'd died.

"Astarion?"

"M'alive." He mumbled in a stupor.

"Good." Tav said through a wry smile.

They looked to their left where his cock was already starting to swell again and sighed.

"I don't think it worked, you're getting hard again."

Still nothing.

Tav furrowed their brow, "Do you hear me up there?"

Still nothing.

Starting to worry, Tav raised themselves up and started padding their way one-handed up towards his face. His crimson eyes were fixed on ceiling of the tent, drying tears still streaked down his temples.

"Are you alright? Was it too much?" Tav asked, worried they'd gone too far.

He finally blinked.

"My body feels like it's.. weightless and.. empty. My head feels like.. I've been zapped with a.. shocking grasp.. and my ears are ringing." His tone was high and dazed. His every move tinged with exhaustion. His expression one of pure contentment.

He was fully in an afterglow bubble. That was better than potentially traumatised.

Tav pursed their lips with pride, "Sounds like a good orgasm then. Was it?" They asked, feigning innocence.

Astarion gave a long blink and turned his gaze to Tav, who lay to the side of him.

"You've rendered me paralsyed. I think we can call that a success, don't you?"

Tav chuckled, "Well, a semi-success. You've still got your problem." They gestured a thumb towards his now alarming erection again.

"Oh no, that's not the potion. That's me."

Tav jerked their neck in questioning confusion, "Eh?"

"I'm laying here sprawled on the floor after one of the best orgasms of my long life. Two of whom have been granted by you.. and the only thing I can think of.. is that I need to do that again."

Tav bit their bottom lip through a grin spreading across their face.

"But we said that that night was a one-time thing and this is an extraordinary circumstance.. this isn't supposed to-"

His pale pink lips came up to capture their first kiss of the night and from the passion and force behind it, it was not to be their last.

Astarion slid his fingers to their umber trousers and cupped them through the fabric. Tav gasped against his mouth as they twitched within his grasp, the damp spot of their arousal staining their clothes. They sucked in Astarion's bottom lip into their mouth and cursed.

"Well, apparently that arrangement needs to be renegotiated." He smirked, as he kissed them deeply, sweeping his tongue to taste himself there.

He brought his hand to the buckle, "And these definitely need to come off."

•°•°•

Psst.. hey..👋 you want some more smut? 👀

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