#here's a tag to take up space and bring me closer to the 'see more' button so i dont expose too much info

[blackjackkent]

All right, time to finish out the final bits of Rakha's story. <3

Kicking off our remaining epilogue adventures with something a little lighter. HI SCRATCH!

Narrator: There's something strange in your old friend's mouth. What is it?

"What have you got there, Scratch?"

"*BARK!*"

Narrator: A familiar invitation. He wants you to throw the object he's dropped. But it isn't a ball. It's the Astral Prism.

"Where the hells did you find this, boy?"

Narrator: He whines. Less talk, more throw!

As with Hector, I choose to believe Rakha has kept Scratch with her during these six months, rather than her seeing him here now for the first time since the brain. (Technically I think there are rules about dogs in Baldur's Gate, but we literally see one running around in Bloomridge Park, so I am choosing to ignore this fact completely. XD

Scratch (and Buddy, who we'll talk to shortly) were critical parts of Rakha's support network during her darkest periods. Petting them, or curling up next to them to sleep, could be a tonic against some of the darker thoughts that her godspawn blood drove her to; it wasn't perfect peace, but it was notes of it, and sometimes that was enough.

These days, Scratch tags along with her to her various rebuilding jobs in the city. Sometimes he helps haul materials or carry things, and sometimes he just entertains the workers or their children, and sometimes he just watches. He seems to have appointed himself Rakha's unofficial guardian.

And he sleeps on Rakha's bed in her little home by the docks, and when she wakes with a shout at some lingering nightmare, he curls a little closer to her side and licks her face and helps her calm down.

Good boy, Scratch.

Best boy.

-----

On to our much larger companion! HI BUDDY!

"*Hoot. HOOT!*"

Pet him.

"It's good to see you," Rakha says quietly, scritching underneath the giant owlbear's chin.

And it is. She hasn't seen him since the brain and is less sure what he's been up to, but he was also one of her great comforts in dark moments and it brings a little extra softness to her mind just to see him again.

Narrator: He looks coyly at the ground, suddenly shy.

"What have you been up to since last we met?"

Narrator: He snaps the air and wiggles. He's either miming fighting a many-limbed creature, or dancing. It's unclear. He is, however, exhausted. He's had plenty of adventures without you.

(A/N: I do love sending Buddy with Shadowheart, but Hector did that, so we'll mix it up a little.)

Rakha smiles slightly. She is no stranger to exhaustion, in herself and in others. The cub should be allowed to rest, as she has, as the others have. But unlike with Scratch, she can't hope to keep a giant owlbear in her house in Baldur's Gate.

Perhaps she can help him settle somewhere else, though. She cocks her head, thinking - and remembers that strange loneliness in Halsin when she spoke to him earlier, and his tales of the children he is taking care of. She remembers how Buddy would often sleep curled up near Yenna and Grub, protecting them, comforting them with his warm, solid bulk.

And Reithwin is a place with life being brought back into it, and wide open spaces around the settlement where an owlbear could roam.

"You look tired. What say we find you a home?" she asks quietly. "How about with Halsin?"

"*Hoot HOOT!*"

Narrator: The joy in the owlbear's eyes is clear. He longs to have a home, and Halsin is perfect.

Better go make sure Halsin's okay with this.

-----

(A/N: The in-game line here is "I may have volunteered you for something, if you'll forgive me. Might your new community have room for a well-behaved owlbear?" But realistically - while Rakha has come a long way in many regards, I don't think she has in any way shed her usual clipped-off and short speech patterns and her general habit of directness.)

"Halsin," she says, approaching him so suddenly that he jumps where he is sitting at the table. "The owlbear needs a home. Would you take him to Reithwin?"

"Do you truly even need to ask?" Halsin smiles from ear to ear. "Of course! Who could not open their home to a befeathered hero of Baldur's Gate?" He laughs. "And I did promise the children I would bring them back a surprise. Imagine their faces!"

Narrator: The owlbear's eyes are alight with excitement - he can't wait to go home with Halsin.

Aw. <3

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Find Out You Haven't Had Your First Kiss Yet

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, first kiss, flirting, banter, shyness, gentle kissing, musundertsnadings, age-gap, experiance gap

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I have kissed people before and I know I wanna kiss all of them too. They deserve kisses, they need kisses.

"Ya've been starin' at me for an awful long time now. Not that I mind, your eyes are real pretty, sugar. But ya've got me all curious now." Jinx invaded your personal space like it was no big deal and leaned in so you had but inches between you.

You pressed your lips together and fidgeted in your seat. "You... I was wondering have you kissed anyone before?"

"Well here and there but not recently. I've got someone I really wanna kiss now." She pointed at you and tucked a hair behind your ear. "Wanna make out? I don't have any important things to do for a few hours?"

"Few hours? People make out for that long? Wait no, that's not what I want to do. I was curious cause I never kissed anyone and I was wondering if you... maybe wanted to kiss me?" With a slightly bashful tone you met her shiny purple eyes which only seemed to get brighter as she closed in.

"Do I wanna kiss ya? I wanted to since I saw ya! Been waitin' to get asked. Ya know, gentlewoman and all that shit." She wasn't one, not by a longshot but she also knew she could cross boundaries easily, this was one where she was more than willing to wait. "Pucker up quick!" You only had a second to react before harsh lips closed over yours, her thin but strong arms locking you in place on the chair. "Mwah!" Jinx cackled when she pulled back. "There. That's one thing to cross of your list. Can't wait for more." Winking she spun around in her chair and did a little happy dance.

Everyone knew Vi was a bold one, what she wanted she went for, often with little questions asked. She spent the whole date taking initiative, taking your hand, showing you the best places in Zaun, and a few at Piltover too, although she didn't know as many that were cooler than Zaun's. At the end of it she walked your home.

"I live in a safe neighborhood, Vi. There's no need for this." You argued as you fished for your keys to unlock the door. As you did you had full intention to invite her in.

"You never know when someone might try something. You're too cut to pass up on, sweet thing like you, bound to attract eyes. People might get ideas. Like this." Before you knew it, she pressed both hands against your hips and kissed your neck. You nearly dropped the keys when you felt the bolt of excitement run through your body. "See what I mean?"

Gulping you turned your head to hers. "Y-Yeah." She smirked and cupped your chin with the opposite hand, bringing you closer. "Vi, hold on." You turned your head back towards the door. "I never kissed anyone before." The whisper pierced through all the horny energy in Vi's body.

Her hands dropped from your hips. "Oh. Well now I feel like an ass. Since you let me walk you back and all, I thought... sorry I don't know what I thought. Do you want me to leave?" She waited for you to turn around and was surprised when you cupped her cheeks and leaned in. Her eyes widened for a moment before closing, right as your lips met in the middle. The grip on your hips returned, but it wasn't as strong as before. She wasn't the only one who could initiate.

You could look far and wide and you wouldn't find a bigger gentlewoman than Caitlyn. She asked if anything she did was wanted, if it was okay, if you liked it. Some of it came from her Academy days, some from her upbringing but she was never pushy with you.

It was actually you that noticed she was glancing at your lips a little too often while you were helping her sort out through the many documents she apparently had to bring home to work on. "Today was supposed to be our date, seems to me like you're dating your work as much as you're dating me." You teased and watched her huff.

"That is not true. You are infinitely more attractive, darling. I wouldn't kiss the papers but I would kiss you any day." Caitlyn flirted back and set the mentioned papers down. "In fact... I could use a little break from this. And you're right, tonight is our date night. So, tell me," Caitlyn walked up to your side of the desk and leaned on her hands, her face above yours, "would you do me the honor of kissing me?"

A heavy blush bloomed on your face as you felt caught in her crosshairs. When she got serious about something she saw it though until the end. That's how she was looking at you now. "I'd love to kiss you, Cait."

She chuckled at your breathless tone. "I'll go slow. It's your first kiss, right? I figured from the way you'd blush and turn your head when I'd lean in." Her gloved hands slid over your hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. "Close your eyes for me, darling." The moment you did you felt her lips against yours, perfectly falling into place.

"You're joking, aren't you? You haven't kissed anyone? No one? Not even a little?" She tried to hide her amused smile behind her hand but it was futile. You rolled your eyes at Maddie and then threw a pillow in at her head.

"First, how do you kiss someone a little? And second, you know I've barely dated before this. You're the first girl I'm kinda serious about. Thought that waiting to have my first kiss would be... you know romantic?" You shrugged and hugged the other pillow close to your chest. Maddie let out a loud 'awww' and hugged you tight, kissing your cheek.

She laughed when you tried to push her away for making fun of you.

"Now hold on. I think that is really sweet of you, love. Not many people out there have your romatic mind and I love that about you. Also, real sweet that you want to kiss me out of everyone." Her hands pressed upon your shoulders and her smiling face approached yours. "Do I get to do that now or...?"

You could see how eager she seemed now that she learned all this new information. "I mean... if you want." Your hug around the pillow tightened as you tried to will yourself to calm down. On the outside you were calmer, ever pushing back into the kiss, sighing contently against Maddie's lips, but on the inside, you were a damn mess of anxiety. "Shhh, it's just me, remember?" She cooed against your lips and waited for you to relax, massaging your shoulders before leaning in for a second, longer kiss.

This was more of a dare than you wanting to kiss anyone tonight. It wasn't your fault that all your friends knew about your big crush on Ekko and roped you into a game of darts that you lost and therefore had to walk over to him and kiss him. Your friends watched you fumble over to him, all giggling.

Ekko looked at you a little bewildered. "Look, don't ask, this was all their idea." You pointed behind yourself at your friends. "They dared me to kiss you so, if you wanna kiss me... you know, cool

"I've got nothing against kissing you, firefly, but I'm a little confused. Thought you didn't mess 'round with friends like that." Ekko did, you knew but you always thought that if you crossed that line with him there would be no bottling your feelings back up. And standing here in front of him, asking for a kiss, you knew that was true.

"I don't mess around with friends. But they won't leave me alone about not kissing anyone yet and you were the safest bet. Plus..." You moved from foot to foot, like that would shake off your nerves. "I like you, Ekko. As more than a friend. I have for a while."

All the chatter from around the two of you seemed to fall into a void. Ekko opened his mouth to say something but you kissed him before he could, too scared of a rejection and too high strung to think about the fact that you might never get this chance again. But to your surprise he kissed back, his full lips pressing hard against yours. "Thought you'd never come out and say it. Damn, been waiting to hear those words since forever." Ekko hushed against you before he dragged his lips from the corner of your mouth to your ear. "I like you too." He confessed with a whisper.

"Don't you let what those assholes said get to you, darlin', their mouth is bigger than their brain." Vander cleaned the dirty glasses behind the bar as you handed them to him one after another.

You grimaced, remembering all the teasing, quite rude teasing might you add, that you endured before Vander stepped in. "I could have kicked them out myself. Besides what do they care if I'm dating you? Not like you gave me the job because of it." They said a lot more than that but you didn't even want to go through all of it.

"Hey, you do great work here. The kids love you; I love you. All that talk about tradin' favors, bunch of bullshit, that's what it is. Besides, I know you've kept to yourself more than others around here. Got nothin' against that. If anything, makes me a bit nervous. I mean, you really want this old man to be your first at everything?" He scratched the back of your head as he remembered the night when you cuddled and you confessed, he would really be your first everything, not just your first relationship. Since then, he'd been a bit jumpier.

"Vander, you're a bit more than a decade older than me. We're both old. And when you get to my age and you haven't done anything, people talk. So, I can't really blame them for thinking what they do about me getting a job here. It's shitty yeah, but like you said, they're just assholes. I want you to be my first kiss, first everything." You confessed and suddenly you noticed Vander wasn't cleaning glasses anymore. He still had the glass and the rag in his hand but he wasn't moving at all.

You seem to have stunned him with your words. There was an old story you remember, about a kiss breaking a sleeping woman from her slumber. With a cheeky grin you pushed yourself up on the bar to get high enough to kiss him. Vander let out a sound of surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. The sound of the glass shattering also shattered the quiet moment you shared and you parted, laughing. "Well, I'll be damned. Seems like there are still things that surprise me."

Silco didn't hear anything from you about the status of you kissing or not kissing anyone. He heard it from Jinx, who heard it from Sevika. And to think one of your best friends would rat you out to her boss' daughter like that. "I'll kill that mouthy bi-" Your threat stopped on your lips, silenced by thin lips. "Silco... what the fuck?"

"What? From how I heard it, you really wanted to kiss me, but were to scared of looking desperate. Best to get things like this over with fast, otherwise they clog up your brain with unnecessary worries." He spoke like a true businessman. And at his core he was one, a corrupted one, and really good at his job.

Still, you looked at him, blinking slowly, still feeling his lips against yours. Your fingertips touched the tingly flesh.

"Silco... that was my first kiss! You asshole!" You pushed him and he did take a few steps backwards. "This is why you can never tell anything to anyone around here!"

Like it was messy he fixed his tie and vest, tugging until they were to his standard again. Then he walked up to you again, his orange eye trained on you like a cat's eye on a little mouse. "Did you hate that I did it? I was never good at asking for permission when I wanted something, or forgiveness. However, if you need an apology from me, I might consider it."

Despite the imposing presence you weren't scared of him at all. "For god’s sake, Silco, I didn't hate it. You could have put more effort in it though. You know, make it more romantic for a lady, sweep her off her feet and take her out to dinner." It was like this man did every romantic thing backwards. He slept with you before he asked you out, he never even asked you out officially, just told you he liked spending time with you, and now this. "You're hopeless sometimes."

When she heard what you said she couldn't help but let out a full belly laugh at it. "Jerk! I'm being serious!" You smacked your fists against her shoulder, which only made the big brawler of a woman laugh more. Sevika never had the most tact or subtlety, or was the best at keeping her emotions in.

"I know you are! Which is why it's so damn funny. I mean shit, sweetheart, haven't kissed anyone? I see you tearing up that dance floor every night with me. You're telling me no one ever got lucky enough to kiss you on the lips? On the other lips maybe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You're gross sometimes, you know that." You smacked her on the bicep again, and at the next attempt she grabbed your wrist and pulled you into her lap. Your whole body went hot when her thigh flexed between your legs. "Sevika, what are you up to?"

Sevika grinned wolfishly as her hand grabbed your ass. "I'm about to kiss you. Tell me if you want me to stop." She wasn't exactly asking but she also didn't want to force this on you. When you didn't put up and resistance and tugged her a bit closer by her shirt, she leaned in to capture your lips. Like with everything else she couldn't be gentle, she didn't do gentle. The kiss was rough, passionate, with too much tongue for you who never kissed anyone before. "I'm gonna teach you how to do that better."

"Will you?" You asked all breathless and with wide pupils. One simple kiss made your whole body feel like fireworks were going off. "Better make up for you making fun of me."

Viktor was very perceptive of things that interested him. You were one of those things, even before you became his girlfriend he always listened when you talked about anything. It was his first clue that he liked was in love with you.

He noticed you always seemed to be looking down at his lips more than the things he was writing whenever he was explaining something. "You know, if you want to kiss me, it's as simple as asking." He teased as his fingers traced the pages; he was reading out to you.

"O-Oh. You noticed that did you?" You looked away at the big wall of notes behind him then back at his smiling, knowing face. "Who am I kidding, of course you did. Don't get me wrong, I want to kiss you, Viktor. But I'm also nervous because it'll be my first kiss." He closed the book, with a bit more of a thumping sound than it was warranted. As quickly as he could he crossed the distance between the two of you. His hand lifted yours to his lips.

As shy as he could be with his touches, sparing even, reserved, he found it very easy to touch you and it made your heart skip a few beats every time. Viktor was comfortable with you; he teased you like it was no big deal and would hold your hand when walking through the halls.

"I must confess, darling, I don't have much experience with kissing, or anything of a romantic or intimate nature. I've only been in a few precious relationships before. However, if you allow me, I would love to be your first kiss, today." He emetized the time with a kiss on your fingers, then your knuckles, then across your arm, your jaw. And finally... your lips.

"Do you want to be my first-" You couldn't ask anything more because you heard and saw Jayce drop the hammer he was holding on his foot and was now leaning against his desk, cursing under his breath. "Kiss. My first kiss, Jayce. Get your brilliant mind out of the gutter."

His cheeks got hot when your eyes met across the room. "Your first kiss. Uh... you never kissed anyone before now, babe? Sorry if it sounds like a dumb question but... how? I mean you're the most beautiful, amazing woman I know!"

When he finally put his foot down, confidant that it was okay to do so, he scratched the back of his neck, further adding to his confused look. You sighed. "Thank you for saying all of that. I suppose I wanted it to be special. You told me you've managed to find a breakthrough in your research, so I wanted to reward you, and myself." As you approached him, he got a big, dumb grin that stretched all over his face.

"I see. A reward. If I knew I'd be getting one I'd spend more sleepless nights here." He wrapped his arms around your body when you stepped close and pressed your bodies close.

"No, you wouldn't. I would drag you back to your bed if that's what I had to do to make you sleep properly." And you really would have done that. For right now though Jayce did a good job, and giving him your first kiss was a reward. Jayce approached you slowly, taking great care to be gentle when kissing you, to not get too carried away. He didn't, he kept it to a gentle, long kiss, but quickly got in a few more when you tried to pull away. "You giant dork."

Mel gave you a goodnight kiss but as soon as she felt you stiffen, she pulled back. She frowned when she noticed how nervous you looked. "What's the matter? Darling, are you cold? Your hands are shaking?" She ran her thumbs over the back of your hands.

"Nervous is more like it. That was my first kiss." You said with a shy smile and tried to go in for a second one. But this time Mel stopped you, her hand acting as a barrier between you two. "Hm? What?"

"Your first kiss. And you only tell me that after I've kissed you. Have I known I wouldn't have rushed into it." She sighed heavily and looked almost guilty. She kept replaying her interactions with you in her mind, you were very confident on your date, you flirted with her quite boldly too. And when you kissed her hand, she thought you wanted more.

"What? No, Mel, I'm happy my first kiss was with you! It was perfect!" You quickly spoke up to assure her. "If I didn't want it, I would have stopped you before. But holy crap, do you have any idea how much I wanted to kiss you?! I mean honestly, do you! I hardly worked up the nerve to ask you out tonight." You scratched your cheek nervously and avoided her eyes. This felt a little embarrassing to admit when you worked so hard to remain calm and project and air of confidence with her.

Chucking into her hand, Mel cupped your cheek with the other. "Is that so? If that's all then I'm glad. You don't have to pretend with me. I can assure you too, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't have said yes to our date. Much less kissed you. However, if you would allow it, I would like to re-do that kiss." Mel took your chin between her fingers and brushed her thumb against your lower lip, parting your lips just a bit before kissing you again.

[azullumi]

"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[sugugasm]

BET | love and deepspace

⟡ tags : underground boxer! sylus + reader — sylus isn’t afraid of going all in when it comes to you.

ミ★ content warning : fem! reader uses she/her prns, mentions of blood & injuries, mentions of female anatomy as well as male anatomy, oral fem! receive, gentle to rough sex, pet names like bby, dove, kitten, honey, 5.0K WORD COUNT

you step into the dimly lit underground boxing gym, the air thick with the scent of sweat, cigarette smoke, and leather. it’s a seedy place, hidden in the heart of the city’s most notorious neighborhood, where the law doesn’t dare to tread. the crowd tonight is a mix of rough characters - bikers with gang patches on their jackets, local gangsters with glares and expensive watches, shady high-rollers in suits looking to place big bets on the illegal fights.

as you navigate through the throng of people, you spot him in the corner, preparing for his match. sylus - the man who happened to be your ex-boyfriend . . oh, and only the most feared bare-knuckled boxer in the underground circuit. he was a sight to behold, all rippling muscles and newfound tattoos, with messy silver hair that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. you watch as he methodically wraps his hands, his intense red eyes focused on the task.

your history with sylus is complicated, to say the least. you met him two years ago at a biker rally, drawn to his bad-boy charm and undeniable charisma. he swept you off your feet with his daredevil antics on his custom harley and his smooth talking ways. but sylus’s world was always filled with danger, violence, and illegal activities. as the leader of onychinus, the city’s most notorious motorcycle club, he ran an empire built on illicit evol weapons, protocore deals, and underground fighting.

at first, the thrill of it all was intoxicating - the adrenaline rush of riding on the back of his bike, the wild parties at the onychinus clubhouse, watching him dominate in the ring. but as time went on, you grew tired of the constant chaos and the fear that one day, sylus’s risky lifestyle would catch up to him. you wanted stability, a future - things that sylus scoffed at. ‘i live in the moment, babe,’ he would say with that infuriating smirk. ‘and right now, all i want is you.’

but it wasn’t enough. six months ago, after a particularly brutal fight that left sylus battered and bleeding, you reached your breaking point. you told him you couldn’t watch him destroy himself anymore, that you needed more than he could give you. sylus, stubborn and proud as ever, refused to change. ‘this is who i am,’ he growled. ‘so take it or leave it.’ so you left, walking away from the man you loved, determined to build a life free from the violence and uncertainty.

now, seeing him again after all this time, you feel a mix of emotions stirring within you. anger, hurt, frustration . . . but also a undeniable pull of attraction and longing. as if sensing your presence, sylus glances up, his red eyes locking with yours. a slow, confident smirk spreads across his handsome face as he saunters over to you, the crowd parting before him.

“well, well. look who it is,” he drawls, looking you up and down appreciatively. “didn’t expect to see you here tonight, [★]. come to watch me dominate the ring as usual?”

you scoff and cross your arms, determined not to let him see how much his presence affects you. “i’m not here for you, sylus. i’m just here to collect on some bets.”

he chuckles, a deep, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. “sure you are, sweetheart. keep telling yourself that.”

sylus takes a step closer, invading your personal space. he smells like musk and sandalwood, a scent that brings back memories of stolen moments and passionate nights. “i miss you, you know,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. “everything’s been so boring without you around to keep me on my toes.”

you try to stay strong, but you can feel your resolve wavering. damn him and his charm. “i’m not here to rehash the past, sylus. what do you want?”

his eyes glint with a challenge. “make a bet with me - when i win the championship belt tonight, you give me another shot. a chance to prove that we’re meant to be together.”

you laugh in disbelief. “you can’t be serious. we’re done, sy. i’m not falling for your games again.”

“who says it’s a game?” he counters, his expression turning serious. “i know i messed up, [★]. i wasn’t ready before, but i am now. i want you back in my life. i need you.”

you hesitate, torn between your lingering feelings and your better judgment. sylus is a force of nature, wild and untamed. being with him is like dancing on the edge of a razor - thrilling but dangerous. can you really risk your heart again?

“and what do i get if you lose?” you ask, buying yourself time to think.

sylus flashes you a cocky grin. “you know i never lose, kitten. but if by some miracle i do . . i’ll leave you alone. for good. unless you decide you can’t resist me and come crawling back.”

you snort at his arrogance, even as a part of you wonders if he might be right. sylus has always had a hold on you, an undeniable magnetism that draws you in against your will, “fine,” you hear yourself saying, almost as if from a distance. “you’ve got a deal.”

his grin widens, triumphant. “get ready to come back to where you belong, [★] - with me.”

the crowd starts to get louder, chanting and cheering as the lights flicker and dim. it’s almost time for the main event - sylus’s championship fight. he starts to walk towards the ring, but pauses and turns back to face you.

“watch closely now, honey,” he says with a wink. “i’m about to show you what you’ve been missing.”

with that, he strides away, his movements graceful and predatory. you watch him go, your heart pounding in your chest.

what had you gotten yourself into?

as the crowd’s chanting reaches a fevered pitch, sylus steps into the ring, the picture of coiled power and raw aggression. his opponent, a hulking brute known as ‘the mauler’, glares at him from across the mat, pounding his meaty fists together in a show of intimidation. but sylus just smirks, unfazed. he’s taken down bigger, badder fighters than this guy.

the referee calls them to the center, going over the rules - not that there are many in the underground circuit. “no biting, no eye gouging, fight ends with a knockout or tapout. keep it clean . . ish. touch gloves and come out swinging!”

sylus bumps his taped fists against the mauler’s, staring him down with those intense red eyes. then they’re backing away, the air crackling with tension as the crowd falls silent in anticipation.

the bell sounds and the mauler charges forward with a roar, swinging wildly. but sylus is too quick, too skilled. he slips and weaves, dodging the heavy blows, letting his opponent overextend himself. sylus fires off a rapid jab - cross combo, snapping the mauler’s head back and drawing first blood from his nose.

the big man snarls and redoubles his efforts, trying to use his size to his advantage, to trap sylus against the ropes and pummel him. but sylus is like smoke, always just out of reach. he targets the mauler’s weak spots with surgical precision - a knife-hand to the solar plexus to crush his wind, a heel kick to the floating rib, an elbow smash to the jaw.

each blow lands with devastating impact, chipping away at the mauler’s formidable stamina and sending the crowd into a frenzy. they chant sylus’s name like a war cry, thrilling at the sight of the chiseled, tattooed demigod of the ring in his element.

you watch in breathless awe, pulse racing, body heating. damn him. he’s magnificent like this - a perfect fighting machine, all fluid grace and controlled violence. it’s enough to make you forget why you walked away, to let yourself imagine those powerful hands on your body once more . .

a pained grunt snaps you back to the moment as the mauler finally lands a solid hit, a haymaker to sylus’s ribs that sends him staggering. your heart leaps into your throat. but sylus just shakes it off with a feral grin, spitting blood and bouncing on his toes as he beckons for more.

they trade blows in a brutal, lightning-fast exchange, neither giving quarter. the mauler is flagging but still dangerous, pure grit keeping him on his feet. sylus bleeds from a cut over his eye but barely seems to feel it, an unholy light in his gaze as he scents victory.

he presses his advantage with a dizzying flurry of strikes, driving the mauler back . . back . . until he’s pinned against the turnbuckle. sylus hammers his torso without mercy - left hook to the liver, right uppercut to the chin, again, again. the mauler’s knees buckle and sylus steps back, letting him crumple to the canvas.

the crowd erupts as the ref counts it out. at “ten,” sylus throws his hands up in triumph, basking in the adulation. his eyes find yours across the room and the heat in them makes your breath stop. in three long strides he’s out of the ring and hauling you into his arms, crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

for a moment, you forget where you are. forget the mob of rowdy spectators whistling and catcalling. forget every reason you swore you'd never let him back into your heart. all you know is the demanding press of his lips, the steel - cable strength of his blood-slicked body, the intoxicating rush of his victory and your surrender . . .

“looks like i won our bet, babe,” he says smugly, smirking down at you. “hope you’re ready to pay up.”

you scowl, hating how easily he affected you. “one. drink. that was the deal.”

sylus touches his tongue to the seam of his split lip, gaze roving hungrily over you. “oh, i’m just getting started.”

he drags you through the throng of well-wishers and sycophants, his grip on your hand unbreakable. outside, the night air is cool against your overheated skin, charged with tension and the distant growl of engines.

sylus leads you to his pride and joy - that sleek demon of a harley crouched by the curb. the way he straddles the throbbing machine is blatantly sexual, all hard muscles and black leather. he jerks his head at the space behind him.

“c’mon - you know the drill, hop on.”

your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.

your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.

then, sylus kicks off and you’re flying, the city lights a neon blur as he opens the throttle. your pulse pounds in time with the roar of the pipes, excitement and desire a heady drug in your veins. by the time he screeches to a stop outside a dingy saloon on the outskirts of town, you’re dizzy with need.

inside, the bar is a den of sin and swagger, all scuffed leather and polished chrome and clinking bottles. eyes follow sylus with a mix of fear and reverence as he stalks to a booth in the back, one possessive hand at the small of your back.

he orders a whiskey, neat, and your favorite poison, not bothering to ask what you want. at your raised eyebrow, he shrugs.

“i remember.”

two words. but the weight of history and unspoken emotion behind them squeezes your heart. your fingers tremble slightly as you raise your glass in a mock toast.

“to your victory. and my reckless wager.”

sylus’ gaze is molten as he clinks his tumbler against yours, gaze holding you captive over the rim as he tosses back the smooth liquid. the slight burn of the alcohol is nothing compared to the smolder of his stare.

“what are we doing, sy?” you ask into the charged quiet, liquid courage loosening your tongue. “why now, after all this time?”

a muscle ticks in his jaw. he looks down, spinning his empty glass, broad shoulders rigid with tension.

“i fucked up.”

his voice is low, raw with a vulnerability you've never heard from him. your breath snags.

“i thought i needed the rush, the rep, the respect. and yeah, maybe i did, for a while. but none of it meant shit without you.” slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he reaches for your hand — lacing his scarred, tape-wrapped fingers with yours, “i was a coward. i pushed you away because i was scared shitless of how bad i wanted you - needed you. needed your strength, your goodness. you made me want to be better. and it truly fucking terrified me.”

his grip tightens, almost painfully. anchoring you to him.

“losing you . . it broke me, [★]. made me realize that the only thing i’m actually afraid of is living without you.”

sylus swallows hard, his throat working. when he looks up at you, his eyes are blazing with fierce intent.

“i know i don’t deserve another shot. i know i need to earn back your trust. but i swear to whoever may hold my fate, if you give me a chance, i will spend every waking day proving that you’re my whole damn world.”

your heart is a wild bird in your chest, frantic and yearning. you search his face, finding only sincerity and aching tenderness beneath the bruises and blood.

“i never stopped loving you,” you confess, voice breaking. “no matter how hard i tried to hate you . . i couldn’t let you go.”

sylus makes a rough sound, halfway between a growl and a groan. then he’s kissing you, deep and urgent and saying everything he can't put into words. you fall into him, all hunger and desperation, the levee finally breaking on the flood of your need.

“take me home,” you gasp into his mouth, fingers curling in the sweat-damp silk of his hair.

“i thought you’d never ask, dove.”

the anticipation is a living thing as sylus speeds through the lamp-lit streets, the throaty growl of his harley between your thighs a heady reminder of the man commanding the machine. by the time he pulls into the cavernous garage beneath his loft, your body is humming, every nerve ending alight with need.

sylus is on you the moment you dismount, crowding you back against the rough brick wall, his large frame enveloping yours. his kiss is searing, possession and passion, strong hands gripping your hips as he grinds into you. you moan into his mouth, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his leather-clad shoulders, craving more.

“been dreaming about this,” he rasps against your lips, his voice like gravel and whiskey, igniting heat in your veins. “having you back in my arms, in my bed. fuck, [★], need you so bad it's like a sickness.”

“then take me,” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant hunger shining in those crimson eyes. “i’m here, sylus. i’m yours.”

something animalistic unfurls behind his gaze, a primal sort of satisfaction that has you clenching with want. in a burst of movement, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his lean hips as he strides purposefully to the industrial elevator that will carry you to his domain.

the short ride up is a haze of frantic kisses and roving hands, two years’ worth of pent-up longing seeking outlet. by the time sylus kicks open the door to his loft, you’re both panting, clothes askew and lips kiss-bruised. he carries you straight to the bedroom, a cavern of shadows and silver moonlight spilling across rumpled black silk sheets. when he lays you down in the center of that decadent expanse, the reverence in his touch steals your breath. his battle-scarred fingers shake slightly as they skim over your curves, learning you anew.

“so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, crimson gaze tracking hungrily over your body like he's committing every detail to memory. “can’t believe i almost lost this . . lost you . .”

“never,” you whisper fiercely, reaching up to cup his angular jaw. “i’m here, sylus. right where i belong. and i’m not going anywhere.”

he turns his head to press a fervent kiss to your palm, the heat of his breath making you shiver as his lips graze your fingers — and ever so gently, he bites. then slowly, deliberately, he divests you of your clothes, unwrapping you like a gift. you echo his actions, baring him inch by glorious inch to your avid gaze.

sylus’s body is a work of art, all chiseled muscle and inked skin, a roadmap of violence and survival. you take your time tracing the ridges and hollows, the scars and scrolling tattoos, familiarizing yourself with this new landscape of him. he shudders beneath your questing touch, eyes fluttering shut, a low rumble building in his chest.

“[★],” he grits out, and fuck, how you’ve missed the way he says your name, guttural and raw, like a prayer and a plea. “please, baby . . need to taste you.”

“yes,” you hiss, already aching, empty. “please, sylus.”

granted, he descends on you like a man starved, that talented mouth charting a path of fire over your sensitized flesh. he maps every curve and valley with lips and teeth and tongue, each nip and suck and lap stoking the inferno building in your core.

when he finally settles between your trembling thighs, the first bold stroke of his tongue punches the air from your lungs, your spine arching involuntarily. he groans in appreciation, strong hands splaying your thighs wider, opening you fully to his voracious appetite.

“fuck, i missed this,” he rasps against your slick folds, the vibration of his words making you keen. “missed the way you taste, the sounds you make when i devour this sweet cunt. could feast on you for hours, little one . .”

you whimper breathlessly, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other tangling in his silver hair, holding him to you. sylus takes the encouragement for what it is, sealing his mouth over your aching flesh and suckling greedily. stars erupt in your eyes, pleasure rioting through your veins as he works you ruthlessly, adding clever fingers to his oral assault. he curls them just right, rubbing that secret spot that has you seeing god, all while his wicked tongue paints obscene promises on your clit.

“s-sy, fuck!” you wail, back bowing, thighs clamping around his ears as he drives you higher and higher. “oh god, yes, just like that! don’t stop, please, i’m gonna’ cum . . fuck, baby-”

he doubles his efforts, a man possessed, growling his own pleasure into your core. “that’s it, my love,” he urges gutturally between long, lewd licks. “go ahead and give it to me, wanna’ feel you drench my face, want you gushing on my tongue . .”

his filthy encouragement hurls you over the edge with a strangled scream, release slamming into you like a freight train. you shatter spectacularly, pulsing and clenching around his thrusting fingers, slick gushing into his eager mouth as he works you through the most intense orgasm of your life.

when you finally drift back down to earth, aftershocks still rippling through you, sylus is grinning up at you wolfishly from between your thighs, his beard glistening obscenely with your essence. “fucking incredible,” he rumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your still-twitching center. “could watch you fall apart on my tongue forever and never get tired of it.”

“get up here,” you demand breathlessly, tugging him to you. he comes willingly, settling his considerable bulk over you, caging you beneath miles of warm, hard muscle.

you claim his mouth in a filthy kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. he responds with matching hunger, hips rocking into the cradle of your thighs, the thick ridge of his erection a brand against your sensitive flesh.

“please,” you whimper into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “need you inside me, sylus. been too long, i want it . .”

“fuck,” he snarls, the words seeming to snap his restraint. “far too long, honey. be patient, you know i will.” slowly, giving you time to adjust, he notches himself at your entrance and pushes forward, gasping harshly at the tight, wet heat of you enveloping him. “goddamn,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forehead pressed to yours. “silly me. i almost forgot how fucking perfect you feel. like coming home.”

“yes,” you moan, reveling in the familiar stretch and burn of his thick length entering your body. “missed this so much . . missed you . . love you, sylus, so fucking much.”

“i love you too,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before surging back in, starting a deep, rolling rhythm that has your toes curling. “i never stopped, never will. you’re only for me, [★]. only me.”

you lose yourselves to the timeless dance, bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, rediscovering every perfect angle and hidden sweet spot. sylus takes his time, building you back up with long, measured strokes, whispering words of worship into your skin, branding you with his love.

“so good,” he groans, hitching your leg higher on his hip, sinking impossibly deeper. “could stay buried in this tight little pussy forever. never wanna leave.”

“don’t.” you gasp, fingers clawing at his flexing back, desperate for more. “stay — harder, sylus, fuck me harder. wanna’ be able to feel it tomorrow.”

with a low, approving growl, sylus complies, snapping his hips faster, driving into your yielding body with the piston precision of the machine he rides. the wet, obscene slap of flesh fills the room, punctuated by your escalating moans and cries.

“i’m not gonna last,” he warns, rhythm faltering. “too good, too fucking good. tell me you’re close, baby . .”

“s-so close,” you pant, the coil in your belly wound to the breaking point. “just a little more - fuck, right there, sy . . o-oh my —”

sylus hammers into you, grunting with the effort, sweat sheening his skin. he wedges a hand between your straining bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles. “cum on my cock,” he demands, voice strained. “let me feel that pussy grip me, milk me . .” his words are your undoing, hurling you into oblivion with a keening wail. your inner muscles seize around him, rippling and fluttering, trying to pull him deeper as you drench his driving length in release.

“fuck, yes!” sylus roars, pistoning wildly, chasing his own end. “gonna’ - ah, shit, kitty, i’m cumming!” his climax overtakes him with a force that borders on violence, his cock jerking and pulsing as he spills himself deep in your still-spasming core, painting your inner walls with thick ropes of his seed. you mewl weakly in blissed-out overstimulation, aftershocks rolling through you as he fills you to the brim.

finally spent, sylus collapses onto you, taking care not to crush you with his bulk. you cuddle as sweat and other fluids cool on your skin, hearts gradually slowing in tandem. he’s still stuffed deep inside you and you clench involuntarily around his now-softening length, loving the way he groans, overused nerves sparking. “keep that up and we’ll be going again real soon,” he warns playfully, nuzzling into your neck.

you huff a laugh, carding your fingers through his damp hair. “yeah, yeah,” you tease. “we’ve got time now, sylus. all the time in the world. i’m not going anywhere.”

he raises his head to look at you, crimson eyes soft and full of wonder. “damn right you’re not,” he rumbles, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “i’m never letting you out of my sight again. you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

“eh, could be worse,” you quip, grinning up at him. “i think i can handle being stuck with you. it’s only forever, after all.”

“forever,” sylus echoes solemnly, like an oath. “i like the sound of that. you and me. binded as one.”

“ . . . and loving each other stupid every chance we get,” you finish impishly, wiggling your eyebrows.

he barks a laugh, the joyful, uninhibited sound making your heart soar. “oh, that is definitely part of the plan,” he assures you, a wicked gleam in his eye. “gotta’ make up for lost time, don’t we?”

“mmhm, that we do,” you agree readily, warmth suffusing you. “better get started on that. forever’s not getting any longer.”

“as my lady commands,” sylus murmurs, capturing your mouth again as he begins to stir inside you once more.

and as passion ignites anew, the promise of countless tomorrows enfolding you like a benediction, you know this is just the beginning of the ups and downs.

because this love, tempered by loss and longing, by time and truth . . it’s unbreakable. a bond that even the harshest trials will only serve to strengthen.

and with sylus by your side, his heart in your keeping as surely as yours rests in his scarred and steady hands . .

. . you know you can weather any storm.

forever, and then some.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent. tagging @ramonathinks <3

[suguae]

Haunted

part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better. 

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss. 

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.” 

“Is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby. 

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.” 

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

[cutehoons02]

See you on the podium, sweetie!

*pairing: Lee Heeseung F1 Ferrari driver x PR

*trope: only one bed-bad boy Heeseung?

*driver: Lee Heeseung=Charles Leclcer

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

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

11.4k (🌹)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sighs and shakes his head

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

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

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

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

Heeseung looked at you amused and raised his hands in surrender

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung laughed, shaking his head and staring at you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung sighed, almost whispering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raised his hands in surrender but with a glaring

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungwon turned to Heeseung and spoke

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

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

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

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

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

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

Montreal GP (Canada)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungwon laughs again, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

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

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

Heeseung stands up and stretches and looks at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon with a clever smile

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hee bowed his head, a Playboy smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung raised his hands in surrender and smiled at you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung chuckles, raising his hands in surrender.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first journalist hands him the microphone, smiling.

Journalist 1 :

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

Heeseung :

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

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

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

Journalist 2 :

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

Heeseung :

(with a mischievous smile)

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

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

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

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

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

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

You slapped him lightly and pursed his keys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung laughed

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

You pointed your finger at his still-wet chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you want, Hee?"

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

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

You closed your eyes, holding back an exasperated groaning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung laughed slightly but in a sincere tone

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

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

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

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

Spa Gp (Belgium)

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

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

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

Engineer :

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

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

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

Engineer :

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2025.

[satori-runa]

—Sweet as you

Summary: You and Captain Curly share a meal, despite your irritation regards the device that bakes your food.

Tags: Established Relationship, fluff, before the crash

Words: 0,8k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

No matter how many times you stand in the kitchen, Curly would always be amused by the sheer expression of despair on your face. He couldn't lie, it was extremely cute for him to see your brows furrow in irritation and your nose scuffing up slightly.

“You can't tell me that is cooking.” You mumbles, glancing at the device on the counter and the two packs of different ingredients in your hand. “This is more like…dark forbidden witchcraft.”

Being stuck in space, between all these stars, means that there is no fresh food, shops, or delivery services. The crew was certainly stuck with the device that mixes packs to make dishes. And as a former self-claimed chef, you hated it. This wasn’t cooking, and it never would be.

“Food is food.” The Captain chuckled quietly, bringing some tone into his usually exhausted voice. “As long as it works and we don't starve.” He took the packs gently out of your hands and placed them onto their respective spots in the cooking device, watching it close and make some bread.

“Told you, evil witchcraft.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the machine whirr to life, producing something that only barely resembled real food. “I miss actual cooking.” You muttered, leaning against the counter. “You know, where you chop vegetables, sauté things, maybe burn a little garlic by accident.”

Curly smiled, stepping closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I know,” he said softly, his voice less teasing now. “And I miss seeing you in your element, making something real. But hey, when we get out of here, I might see what I can do to improve this experience for you. Who knows, maybe we can get an actual freezer to store products and a stove.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the exhaustion of space life momentarily lifting.

You looked up at him, your frustration melting a little under his gentle gaze. “You promise?”

He chuckled, a hand resting lightly on your waist. “Of course. You’re going to make us a feast as soon as we’re planet-side again.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I’ll hold you to that.” The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you moved your hands to hold him closer.

Curly pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing through your hair. “In the meantime, we’ve got witchcraft bread.” He grinned, reaching for the freshly made loaf. “And the company isn’t so bad either.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I guess I can live with that.”

You settled at the small table with Curly, the freshly made bread, and some packets of synthetic jam between you. Despite your earlier complaints, the warmth of the meal and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel… different. Better. Curly tore off a piece of bread and handed it to you, his eyes soft as he watched you.

You hesitated at first, taking a small bite, expecting the usual bland taste. But somehow, with Curly sitting across from you, smiling like that, it didn’t seem so bad. The bread was warm, and the sweetness of the jam clung to your tongue in a way that felt almost comforting.

“You’re enjoying it.” Curly said, his lips shifting into a grin as he watched your expression soften.

“Maybe just a little.” You admitted, taking another bite. “But it’s definitely not because of the bread.” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you like a blanket.

Curly chuckled, taking a bite himself. But when you noticed a few crumbs clinging to his lips, you reached out instinctively. “You’ve got something…” You murmured, brushing the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips quirked at your touch, eyes twinkling.

Before you could pull your hand back, Curly gently caught your wrist, holding it in place. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, soft and teasing, before he slowly leaned forward. His lips pressed against your fingers, and he licked a bit of jam that had smeared onto your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

A warm flush spread across your cheeks as his lips lingered, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Tastes better this way.” He murmured with a playful smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you, so full of affection. “You’re impossible.” You whispered, feeling the closeness between you like a steady heartbeat.

“Maybe.” He said, still holding your hand gently in his, “But I make the jam taste sweeter, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded as you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, you do.” You whispered, feeling the warmth of him giving you comfort.

[roseykat]

TITLE: How they are when they eat you out

SUMMARY: OT8 blurb version of the title.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of orgasms, sex positions, again nothing too major.

TAGLIST: @xhakumeix

A/N: here is another spicy blurb/work of mine! Thank you everyone for engaging with my posts, messaging and following! I really appreciate y’all 😭💗 also side note again, I’ll spellcheck this when I get home!

BANG CHAN

Deliberately goes slow. He likes foreplay but also teasing you. Thrives off of feeling your legs shake around his head as he goes down on you. If you can’t handle the overbearing intensity of pleasure, he’ll snake his arms around your thighs, gripping and holding you there to ensure that you will take everything he gives you.

However, Chan is a firm reinforcer of edging and uses his mouth to achieve that. He’ll have you squirming and trembling every single time he brings you to the edge. Whenever you try and inch closer towards his tongue, he’ll pull away, leaving you frustrated and angry. But edging has a high purpose, and that’s to make you cum ten times harder than you usually would.

“I know how much you want to cum right now,” Chan says. “So lie back and let me get you there.”

-

MINHO

Eats pussy for sport and will make you cum as hard and as fast as possible and as many times as you’ll let him. He’ll tease when he wants but for the most part, he wants to watch you writhe and shake. Hearing you scream out his name is a phenomenon that he can never get over. Minho also likes eating you out in positions that will have you screaming and where you’re bound to cum - literally.

He will have your legs bent at your sides, tied up so you can’t move, and will eat you out for an hour or two, otherwise until you’re crying from how much pleasure you’re in. In those positions, there’s nowhere for you to go or move other than the surface of his hot tongue.

“Like cumming on my mouth don’t you?” Minho asks. “I’ll make you cum again, and again, and again - until you start to forget your name.”

-

CHANGBIN

Eats it like he means it. Will make you cum more than once with his mouth and won’t settle for anything less. He will have you in tears from how intense the orgasms are that he gives you. It’s a real contrast to how tender and nurturing he is when it comes to taking care of you afterwards. Nonetheless, Changbin will eat you out like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

He doesn’t stop unless you want him to. Sometimes you give him free rein which, in all honesty, is a terrible idea sometimes because Changbin will cease at nothing to make you cum so hard that you start seeing stars. What’s even better is because of his strength, it’s near to impossible to squirm away from his mouth, rendering you to cum hard regardless.

“Look how pretty you are when you cum,” Changbin sigh’s exasperatedly.

-

HYUNJIN

Is very attentive. Studies every reaction that he brings out of you as soon as his mouth is buried in between your legs. Hyunjin also has the tendency to overstimulate the shit out of you. Half of the time he doesn’t actually mean to. He just gets off on the change in pitch of your moans, how you sometimes go silent when you cum, or when you grip onto his hair as tight as you can.

His method of making you orgasm multiple times ensures that your legs will be shaking and your moans will fill the space around him. The only unfortunate thing for him when it comes to eating you out is that he can’t see your entire body, especially when you cum.

“You’re shaking baby,” Hyunjin points out. “Feels that good, huh?”

-

JISUNG

Is sloppy, but in the best way possible. He’s unfazed about how wet you are, how much of it gets on his face, if it’s on the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter - whatever. That’s applicable to every situation where he’s eating you out, even when Jisung feels lazy. In saying that, there are two sides to him, and he can go either way; he’ll either eat you out like he’s been deprived of it for months, or if he’s feeling lazy but still wants to go down on you, he’ll eat slowly.

If that’s the case, he will ask you to just sit on his face. It’s convenient for him to lie back and eat you out that way. Hell - he’ll even let you use his face to make yourself cum however many times you want. Jisung will say it so casually that it sometimes turns you on more. Despite him feeling lazy, that doesn’t mean to say that he isn’t into it - he is definitely into it.

“I’m horny as fuck,” Jisung says before smiling. “Sit on my face?”

-

FELIX

Going down on you is already a task that’s intimate enough as it is, but Felix’s entire aura seems to enhance that even further, to the point where you feel so good that it’s emotional. Almost every time - guaranteed - Felix will interlock his fingers with yours when his head is buried between your legs. He’ll kiss your inner thighs, softly on your clit, delicately sucking and licking to slowly build you up to a peak.

He analyses what you like so well that every time he goes down on you, he makes sure to follow that routine to achieve the same results if not better. It’s almost like one of his games to him, except the rewards are better in every aspect. Lix just wants to make sure you feel good.

“Can never get enough of you,” Felix says. “Wanna make you cum as much as you’ll let me.”

-

SEUNGMIN

Is a tease. Even during foreplay he’ll edge you with his mouth. He’ll never give you exactly what you want when you want it. If he’s going down on you, and you’re ready to cum, Seungmin will stop right before you start tipping over the edge just so he can fuck you in order to make you cum on his cock instead. Then again, if he feels generous, it’ll be his mouth that makes you cum, especially as a form of reward if you can go a day or two without being an absolute brat.

But that’s the side of Seungmin who likes to be dominant. There’s the other face of the coin where he can be very tender. In those instances when he is going down on you, expect to see a lot more affection from him. He won’t just focus solely on your clit, he’ll go slow, check in on you, and make you cum more than once because he’s also a gentleman.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” says Seungmin. “Nobody else can make you cum the way I do.”

-

JEONGIN

Knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to eating you out. Jeongin chooses to go slow whenever he does because of how attentive he is. He wants to make sure that each second his face is buried in between your legs that your body feels good. Every now and then it’s a bit frustrating because all you want to do is just cum as quickly as you can, so as you squirm or grip his hair to try and make him go faster, that’s when he’ll decide to intentionally tease you and go slow.

He likes to hold around your thighs, gently squeezing them to hold you firm around his head. The struggles you have when it comes to putting up with his tongue is next level. He has the technique to make you cum in under a minute minimum. He’s unassuming but he’s just that good at it.

“Can feel your legs shaking,” Jeongin says. “I want to feel them shake even more.”

[flowersforbucky]

magnetic field

erik lehnsherr x reader

word count: 2k

summary: takes place following the events of days of future past. reader is a mutant with elemental manipulation powers.

a/n: this goes out to the three erik/magneto fans that will read this 🤧 i don't have high hopes for this but i still thought i'd give sharing it a shot. very well may end up deleting it but we will see lol

warnings/tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff! kissing, suggestiveness, implied smut but nothing graphic

You just keep me coming back

Something about how opposites attract

You hold me down

I'm in it for real

Love me, leave me high and dry

I'm back in your arms and I don't know why

I can't get around your magnetic field

- magnetic field by lights

It's just past dusk on a Sunday evening when he shows up on your doorstep with drenched clothes and dripping wet hair.

You knew that you were bound to see him again one day. You just didn't expect it to be here, or quite this soon.

“What are you doing here, Erik?”

You cross your arms and lean against the frame of your small cabin's front door, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself as you take in his appearance.

It had only been a few months since you had last seen him in D.C., but those few months had taken their toll on him. Dark circles encase his eyes that appear almost hollow.

“It always seems to rain when you're feeling particularly nervous,” he says with a half smirk. Thunder booms from above as rain beats down harder on the tin roof of your porch.

“It's Oregon,” you shrug. You concentrate on keeping your voice even. “It's rained for the last five days.”

He's not wrong. You do tend to subconsciously make it rain when you're nervous.

He chuckles under his breath, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Do you really have to ask why I'm here?”

Now it's you who avoids his question. You have your hopes as to why he's here, but you can't bring yourself to feed into them. Not after all this time - after years of trying to move on while he was imprisoned, followed by a brief reunion during the events of Paris and D.C. that left your heart shattered all over again just a few months ago.

Can you really let yourself believe that he's simply here for you?

You raise a single hand to the side of his neck, your palm caressing the wet skin of his throat. His eyes narrow but he doesn't flinch away, only watches you curiously.

A second later, his previously soaked clothes and sopping wet hair are completely dry. He glances down, realizing what you did as you reluctantly pull your hand away from his skin. You think maybe - just maybe - a hint of disappointment flashes through his eyes at the loss of contact.

“Can't have you dripping all over my carpet,” you sigh, turning to retreat back into the house. You hear the front door click shut and you know that he's followed your lead inside.

“So, why Oregon?” He asks hesitantly as he slips his coat off and hangs it on a hook in the foyer. You turn to find him taking in the appearance of the place you've been trying to call home for the last few months. His eyes skim over the piles of books scattered throughout the small living room, and then to the bouquet of wilted zinnias on your dining room table that you had picked in hopes of making the bland space feel more lively.

“I'll answer your questions if you answer mine,” you offer, leaning against the edge of your kitchen counter. He walks to the dining room table a few feet away from you and pulls out a chair, taking a seat in front of where you stand.

“That sounds fair enough to me, darling.”

Your heart skips a beat at the familiar pet name. It feels as if it's been a lifetime since you've heard him call you that.

“I came here once as a kid,” you answer simply. “After what happened a few months ago, I couldn't bring myself to go back to New York. Charles, the mansion.. everything reminded me of you. I just needed to get away for a while.

He looks down at his lap, unable to hold your gaze. “I have so many regre–”

“Your turn,” you interrupt as you turn to the cabinet behind you. You rummage through it, gathering a tea kettle and a mug.

You aren't ready to hear his apologies. As badly as your heart has wanted to hear that he's sorry for so long, to hear him say that he regrets ever doing anything to jeopardize what the two of you had - you don't trust yourself to not crumble into a million pieces at those words now that he's sitting in your kitchen.

“How did you find me?” You ask without looking back at him. You fill the kettle with water, and bring it to a boil in seconds with the snap of your fingers.

“I'll tell you,” he says over the sharp whistle of the kettle. “But you can't laugh at me.”

You snort, pouring the boiling water over an earl grey tea bag as you try to ignore the swell of bitterness in your chest at the nostalgia of it. Memories of this exact scenario in a different time and place flash through your mind - a happier, more innocent time and place. You carry the mug over to where he sits and place it in front of him before pulling out the chair next to him.

You hold out your pinky towards him, elbow on the dining room table. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“I pinky promise that I won't laugh at you,” you say, little finger still extended. He leans forward, lips forming a smirk as he wraps his pinky around yours. His skin is every bit as soft and warm as you remember it being and you dread the moment that he pulls away.

“I went to the mansion,” he answers with his finger still secured around yours. “I snuck into Charles’ study when no one was home and found some letters you had written to him. I saw the return address on the envelope.”

“Huh,” you muse. “I guess I see why you made me promise not to laugh.” You're not sure what you were expecting his answer to be, but you didn’t think it would be quite so… human.

“Your turn to answer a question, darling.”

Your only response is a small nod.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” you answer, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I don’t.”

His posture slackens, relief taking over his features. He leans over to where your fingers are intertwined, and presses his lips to the side of your pinky finger. It has been years since his lips have touched your skin, but you melt at the familiar warmth all the same.

“Good,” he sighs in relief. His breath fans over your skin, leaving a visible trail of goosebumps over your hand. “I do not intend to leave unless you order me away.”

Your eyes burn with tears that threaten to spill over. His sudden appearance, his words, his mere presence after so much time apart is overwhelming. Despite it all, you can’t bring yourself to care about the reasons why you’ve had to spend so much time apart.

He’s here, and that’s enough for you. Everything else can be addressed in time.

You bring your free hand to his face, cupping his jawline in your palm. Your thumb skims over the stubble that graces his cheeks.

“What do we do now?” you wonder aloud. His pale eyes crinkle as he gives you the first smile that you’ve seen from him in years.

“We try to make up for lost time.”

••••••

You heat him some leftovers from the dinner you had made for yourself not long before his arrival, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and homemade bread. He scarfs the food and the tea that you'd made for him down within minutes, and then retreats to your cabin’s small bathroom to rinse off the last few days of cross-country travel. He had brought a singular duffel bag that now rests on the foot of your bed - which just so happens to be the only bed in the house, seeing as how it's a one bedroom and you live here alone.

Butterflies fill your belly at the implication. There was once a time where it never would have been a question - of course the two of you would have shared the only bed in the house. Now, doing so could very well mean diving back in too quickly and ending up broken all over again.

But then again, didn't that become a possibility the second that you opened your door to find him on your porch?

“What’s on your mind?” His soft voice sounds from behind you. You had been so lost in thought that you didn't hear him exit the bathroom and wander back down the hallway.

You turn to find him leaning against your bedroom door frame, wearing only a towel that hangs loosely from his hips. His chestnut hair still drips wet.

Your eyes flicker between him and the spare quilt that you have piled in your arms.

“You can sleep in here,” you tell him with a nod towards the bed that you'd just put a set of fresh sheets on. “I'll take the couch.”

He chuckles lowly, standing up straight as you walk towards the door, blocking your exit.

“Don't be silly. I'm not going to kick you out of your bed in your own home,” he tells you in a gentle but firm tone.

“You're not kicking me out of my bed,” you assure him. “I'm offering it to you.”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze that you struggle to hold - your eyes threatening to wander down the expanse of his chest with the rise and fall of each breath that he takes.

“It's loads comfier that whatever cot that you were sleeping on in prison, I promise,” you jab at him lightly when he doesn't respond.

He hums in consideration, taking a step closer to you.

“It's not the cot that I minded so much while I was in prison. It's the fact that any bed without you in it feels empty.”

A clap of thunder booms in the distance at the same time that your heart skips a beat.

“I'm not expecting anything to happen, darling,” he assures you lightly. “We don't even have to touch. After so much time apart, I just want to be next to you.”

You exhale a breath that you didn't realize you had been holding in, and place the quilt in your arms on the dresser right next to you.

“Don't be silly,” you repeat his sentiment from just moments ago. You take a step closer to him, now able to smell hints of Old Spice soap from his shower. “Of course you can touch me. If that's what you want.”

“If that's what I want?” He scoffs softly, inching towards you. You place your hands on his hips, walking backwards until your thighs brush against the edge of your mattress. You're lodged between him and the bed, his bare chest practically brushing against yours.

“As if I’d ever not want that.”

He raises his hands to each side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him. His thumb massages over the swell of your bottom lip, his eyes locked on your mouth.

“Erik,” you breathe, and before you can get out another word, his lips are slated over yours. You pull him flush against you by your hold on his waist.

When you close your eyes and focus solely on the feeling of his mouth moving in synchrony with yours, you forget where you're at and everything that's happened over the course of the last decade. In this moment, you're not in a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere Oregon - you're in the courtyard of the mansion and he's kissing you for the very first time.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers against your mouth when he pulls away. You raise up on your toes, pressing your lips against his one more time before pulling back to stare up at him with a smirk. You sit down on the edge of the mattress and scoot back, pulling him down with you.

“Then let's make up for lost time.”

You don’t notice it until you're drifting to sleep in each other's arms hours later, but the thunderstorm that had been raging upon his arrival had slowed to a silent, peaceful mist.

thank you for reading ♡ comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

[strang3lov3]

Asleep

Roman can't sleep, so he fucks you to tire himself out. 2.6k Tags - it's a mixed bag today, guys. stepdaddy!roman, smut, somno kink, unprotected piv, roman roy jerking off, daddy kink, blowjobs, dirty talk, cunnilingus, creampie, comeplay, masturbation, does roman roy want to be your father or fuck you, both, general fucked up-ness, biting, bruising, alcoholic mom mentions, roman roy getting a little emotional and teary-eyed, mentions of roman's balls for that one anon who knows who they are A/N - howdy!! it's been a while since we've heard from stepdaddy but i've been on a somno kick and well, here we are. I planned for a stepdaddy somno fic to come later but I’ve outlined the rest of the series so…whoops. Anywho, i missed this weirdo so much and i hope you enjoy ♡ love ya love ya. Also this is like loosely proofread so if you see glaring issues, let a girl know 💀

Stepdaddy!Roman Masterlist

It’s so cold. You’re not sure what it is about your room in particular, but when it gets cold out, your bedroom seems to take the hardest hit. Roman won’t let you keep a space heater in there, citing your inability to ever blow out your scented candles or turn off your heat tools for your hair. He doesn’t trust you to not accidentally start a fire in his house. 

You cup your palms and bring them to your mouth, then blow hot air into the little space you create with your hands. It helps momentarily, but your toes are still numb. 

Sliding out of bed, you tiptoe out of your room and into the dark hallway. Next to your mother’s and Roman’s shared bedroom is a guest room, which is where Roman sleeps. Your mom spends a lot of nights on the couch, but sometimes she comes to bed and wakes Roman up in doing so, who already has a difficult time staying asleep. It’s just easier for him to have his own space, for a multitude of reasons. 

After opening the guest bedroom door, you find Roman sleeping on his side, moonlight casting a gentle glow on his pale skin. As you approach him, you see better his toned biceps, his soft and slim middle, how that curve deepens between his ribcage and his hips. The difference in width between his forearm and his wrist. Roman’s such a beautiful man. 

Carefully, quietly, you slip under his covers and inch yourself closer to him on the sheets until your tummy is pressed against his back. You wriggle your arms underneath his and tuck your feet between his legs, then squeeze him tight. Roman’s body heat soothes you immediately as you press your cheek against his bare shoulder. 

Reprieve is only momentary. A split second, maximum. Roman jolts awake, hissing at the feeling of your cold hands and feet on his warm body. He’s groggy and confused, and pushes you away frantically. He knows it’s you when you cuddle up to him again and he can smell you as you wrap your body around him once more. “Jesus Christ, kid. You’re fucking freezing, get away from me.”

“So cold,” you mumble, nuzzling closer to him. Roman’s on his back now, and you’re resting your head on his chest. You’d crawl inside his skin if you could. 

“It’s rude to invite yourself into people’s beds, do you know that? Or did you miss that memo.”

“Mhm, I missed that one,” you yawn. 

Roman chuckles. It’s sort of nice being woken up like this, by you, despite how unpleasant your cold extremities feel. Roman’s heart swells in his chest as he pulls you a little closer, pressing his nose against your hair. “C’mere and fucking give me these,” he huffs, taking your hands in both of his as he rubs them gently. “Before you give me frostbite.”

“I’m surprised it bothers you this much.” You wiggle your feet, rubbing them up and down on Roman’s legs to generate some friction. “I figured you’re so cold and heartless on the inside that you wouldn’t even notice.”

“Mm. That’s clever.”

Once Roman warms your hands enough, he lets them go and you wrap your arms around him again. Hands tucked under his torso, your head rising and falling a little with each of his rhythmic breaths. You’re curled up like a cat, soaking up all of him at this moment. The faint smell of his cologne and sweat, his warm breath on your skin. How soft he is. He’s tugged up your sleep shirt a bit, and his long fingers are now gently scratching up and down your back, soothing you right to sleep. 

“This is all I am to you, huh? Just a fuckin’...human radiator-pillow hybrid thing.”

“Mhm,” you answer on autopilot, farther from conscious than unconscious. Roman can hear in the way you’re breathing that you’re dead to the world. He chuckles again, smiling as he looks down at your sleeping form. He kisses your nose and your forehead, then traces your facial features with his free hand, smirking at how your nose crinkles and your brows knit together. Your pouty lips. If you were awake, you’d call him an asshole for tickling you. 

Roman puts two fingers on your chin, tilting your head back so he can kiss your lips. “Goodnight, baby girl.”

He just watches you. Watches and admires. He’ll go back to sleep in a few minutes, but for now, Roman savors the quiet, peaceful moment. You’re so limp, but clinging to him almost desperately. Roman knows it to be true by now, that you need him. Because you’re letting yourself need him, just like you used to. And inversely, Roman loves to feel needed by you. He feels valuable, he feels protective, masculine as he wraps his arms tighter around you. His arms are so much stronger when he uses them to hug you tight. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve slept with him like this. Curled around his body, limbs entangled. It used to be a somewhat regular occurrence. 

It started out when Roman would be going to bed, and as he walked past your bedroom he’d hear you whimpering and making other noises of distress. He’d let himself into your room to stop you from tossing and turning and thrashing, and then would hold you close as you babbled incoherently about your nightmare until you fell back asleep. Roman wonders if you remember that at all. It’s not like it was talked about.  

And there’d be moments similar when you were younger, you’d have a fight with your mom that’d leave you in tears. Awful, screaming fights, that even scared Roman a little. He’d listen to it happen, safe from a different floor or separated by doors and drywall. How scared you must’ve been. Your mom would be drunk and belligerent, aggressive. When you left, she’d follow. 

Roman always, always felt guilt for never sticking up for you. He carries that guilt even now. But when the screaming would end, and you’d tiptoe into your bedroom and cry alone, Roman would follow. He’d hold you close as you choked on your sobs, petting your hair. “You’re safe, you’re okay, kiddo. It’s just me and you,” he’d whisper, holding your trembling hand while he rubbed your palm with his thumb, pressing it into that little pad between your thumb and forefinger to try and soothe you. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. 

Pressure builds up behind Roman’s eyes as he recounts the memory, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers, wiping them away before they roll down his jaw and onto your forehead. He’s not gonna think about it anymore. He’s gonna go to sleep, holding you close and tight.

-

Hours have since passed. Maybe Roman’s gotten some sleep, but it’s hard to tell. Nothing real, at least. He lies awake, his skin damp from sweat. For someone so cold, you sure don’t absorb warmth very well. You seem to just insulate Roman’s own body heat. Roman scoots away from you to get some space, just a little, but you follow, and drape your thigh across his lap. As you move to get comfortable, you rub Roman’s crotch, his cock hardening in his boxer briefs. 

“Oh, gr- that’s great. Fucking fantastic,” Roman whispers, moving your thigh off of his body. It’s was only seconds and already he’s rock hard, all thanks to you. He presses his palm against his bulge in search of relief, but it only worsens the sensation. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

Roman slips his hand beneath his briefs and pulls out his leaking cock, then spits in his palm and wraps his fingers around his length. He turns his head so that he can see you lying on your side, and hikes up your shirt, exposing your nude body. You’re not wearing any panties.

Roman watches you as he begins sliding his palm up and down, squeezing his fist tighter. Roman bites his lip as he thinks of you, thinks of being inside you. Fucking his hand is a means to an end, if only he could fuck you instead. Your mouth. Your cunt. 

Roman slides his thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting the wet, sticky precum that sits upon his slit as he fucks his fist. He breathes shakily and quietly as he works himself, a little moan slipping out here and there. With Roman’s other hand, he reaches into his briefs and cups his balls, squeezing them gently as he pumps his cock. “Look what you fuckin’ - God, you suck,” Roman grunts, then spits in his hand again. 

You pout, brows pinched together in annoyance as you grumble in your sleep. 

“Shh- be quiet. Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Roman hushes you. He’s gotten a little carried away, and that’s what disturbed your slumber. Roman takes a deep breath and slows down, taking his time as he pumps his fist. It seems that the gentle, rhythmic shaking of the bed as Roman fucks himself rocks you back to a deep sleep. How fucking twisted…

…Yet it makes Roman harder all the same. And he tries, but his fist isn’t cutting it. Roman bends forward to tug his briefs off all the way, tossing them on the ground, then carefully shifts on the bed so that he’s kneeling right by your head. He adjusts you on the pillow, tilting your face just a little so that he can fit the head of his cock between your lips. “You gonna let daddy fuck that pretty mouth? Hm, baby girl?” 

Roman inches his cock into your mouth little by little. 

“You’re sleeping. And in my bed,” he adds. “So it’s not like you have much of a choice, do you?” 

With that, Roman buries his cock in your mouth, sliding it towards the back of your throat. You accept the intrusion so gracefully and with such ease, but a small part of Roman wishes he could watch your eyes widen as you choke on his cock, feel you gag and sputter on him. Roman will just have to make a mess of you himself. 

He pulls himself out of your mouth, his shaft soaked in your saliva and glistening under the soft glow of the moonlight peeking in through the window. He taps your cheek with the tip of his cock, dragging it from cheek to cheek, across your lips. He pushes it back inside, burying himself all the way so that his balls rest against your skin. Roman draws his hips back and forth, fist tangled in your hair as he fucks your mouth gently.  

But it’s not enough. 

He misses the warmth of your body, the feeling of your skin against his. Roman pulls out of your mouth and gently shifts you onto your back, then backs down the bed. He spreads your legs wide and fuck, he can fucking smell you. That sweet, musky arousal between your thighs, that scent Roman’s committed to memory and yet, nothing compares to experiencing it in the present moment. He pushes your knees back toward your chest slowly, little by little, until you’re laid out like a platter for him. You’d be so shy if you were awake right now, fighting against Roman to close your legs. It turns Roman on more, knowing that you have no say in how he sees you, how he fucks you. “I can do fucking whatever I want to you, huh?” he breathes, bending down so he can kiss your inner thighs. “Whatever I want. And you don’t know a thing.” 

He kisses your asshole, rimming the tight muscle with his tongue before dipping it inside, pulling it out again so he can kiss his way up your cunt. He nips and sucks at your slick folds, your arousal soaking his face. When his lips attach to your clit and he sucks in just the way he knows that makes you squirm in discomfort, tugging at his hair as you push and pull away from him. You breathe heavily, panting and whimpering in your sleep. “Yeah, you don’t like it when daddy kisses you like that when you’re awake,” he murmurs. “Sensitive fucking thing.” 

Roman licks you a while longer, tracing the beautiful shape of your pussy with his tongue. He presses his nose against your clit, rubbing it around in slow circles. With his fingers, Roman traces your lips, toying with your damp curls. He loves the way your pubic hair tickles his face, the softness of it when you let it grow out a little longer. 

After eating his fill, Roman kisses his way up your torso, taking care to lick and tease your nipples. He slots himself between your thighs, his face buried in your neck as he notches his tip inside your slick entrance. And with one slow slide, he fills you. You’re so fucking warm and wet and pliant, taking him so well. Roman braces himself with one hand above you, the other on your hip as he squeezes the flesh there. “You’re so nice to me when you’re sleeping,” he whispers. “Oh, fuck. You’re so good.” 

Roman sets a pace, softly biting your skin as he rolls his hips into you. Each of his thrusts, every rock of his hips into your warm, wet, cunt has him biting into you harder, bruising you. He kisses your lips as he fucks you, relishing in their softness. 

“Rome,” you whimper, voice thick with sleep. 

“Shh, you’re okay, kiddo” he breathes in between kisses, “Daddy’s here. It’s just me and you. I’m right here.” 

Roman keeps kissing you, leaving your lips a swollen mess as he buries himself over and over inside you. “Fuck - I love, oh, fuck.”

Roman savors the feeling of you beneath him like this, the specific warmth of your body, your skin and his skin together. Roman’s thrusting builds quicker, rolling his hips a little more frantically while still maintaining that gentleness needed to keep you asleep. The pressure’s building in his balls and deep in his gut, his cock achingly hard and rigid. He pulls you flush against himself as he finishes, moaning while painting your insides as he milks himself inside of you, his muscles tensing and relaxing. Roman lets himself fall limp on top of you, his cock still inside you pulsing with every beat of his heart. He commits all of it - all of this - to memory. The private, secret pleasure of being the only one with knowledge of this moment. When Roman’s ready, he pulls out of you, his spend dripping from your hole and onto his bedsheets. He kisses you one last time before settling next to you, pushing you onto your side so he can curl his body around yours. 

When you wake in the morning, Roman’s gone. There’s a faint smell of coffee in the air but it’s quiet, and you can assume Roman’s already left for work. You’re a dripping mess, likely from the dream you had. You don’t remember much - just sensations, the sound of panting, the feeling of pleasure between your thighs and the occasional picture of Roman. You spread your legs and reach for your cunt, tracing your folds. There’s a slight pain there, a feeling of sensitivity. Maybe you were grinding against Roman in your sleep. You waste no time, circling your clit with precision as you pump your own fingers inside your pussy, unknowingly fucking Roman’s come back into yourself as you come once, twice, three times. 

In your bathroom, you turn on your shower. You take off your shirt and in the mirror, catch a glimpse of darkened, damaged skin on your shoulder. You trace the curved mark, the bruise tender under your fingertips. 

-

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[thatlittlered]

lovefool | aaron hotchner

warning(s): 18+, detailed description of sexual acts (m!masturbation) under the cut!

GIF by @scuttling

previous parts

author's note: feast on this, my metaphorical children, because more and better things are coming very soon. I also made a masterlist for your reading convenience.

Follow me @MadeofLilies at Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

Aaron finds himself quite disoriented when he wakes up next to you. Smooth cotton on his cheek, mellow morning light peeking through the blinds. The warmth of a soft body prevails over all. Chests touching, limbs entangled. It is almost becoming too warm under the covers, or it might just be the rush of realization.

The lovely smell of your freshly washed hair brings him closer; so close that he might nudge your cheek with his nose if he moves a single inch but he doesn’t dare. It would be the first ever act of intimacy between you in daylight.

You must have felt his breath on your face because you stir until there’s no space left between you. There is nowhere to look but in each other’s eyes.

It should feel weirder than it does.

He looks so young under this light; his face littered with moles that you would like to kiss. His hand dares to move to your eyebrow and settles the hair there tenderly before moving downward. The touch of his thumb might as well be a kiss when he’s tracing your cheekbone, your nose, your mouth.

“Good morning.”

His voice is hoarse and it makes you laugh.

“Good morning, Aaron.”

Neither of you wants to move, but you decide to take the plunge, “I’m going to make some coffee, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes his time getting up, looking around your room for more pieces of you to remember. He is drawn to your vanity where your perfume and hairbrush lie. You’ve left out a toothbrush for him; ever thoughtful.

When he finally joins you in the small kitchen, you’re a sight for sore eyes and you smile when you see him, pushing a steaming cup of coffee his way.

“Are you hungry?”

He sits so sweetly across from you on the kitchen island.

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Your feet touch, but neither of you moves away.

“You don’t eat breakfast?”

“I have cereal with Jack, mostly because he asks me to.”

The ease with which he had touched and kissed you the night before has dissipated, ephemeral confidence melting away to leave behind a man unsure of what to say or do. He wishes you had met a long time ago, when he could have given you the best parts of him. His best now is… meager. Those parts of him seem long gone, or more accurately, forcefully taken.

Now everything is an impossible decision to make. Every moment of intimacy comes with the fear of imminent darkness. He must dare to break way.

“We have cereal.”

You get up to grab the box from the shelf and when you turn around, he’s almost caging you between the counter and his body. His hands are on your face again, holding you in place so he can kiss you with the taste of coffee on his tongue, which begs for entry.

You both willfully ignore the tension building up between your bodies and how easy it would be to give in completely right now. It’s too soon, way too soon. He was simply taken with the smallest bit of skin that had peaked through when you reached to grab the box; wanted to remember what you taste like, to break away.

His hands are still on your face as he speaks, forehead to forehead.

“I can’t stay long; I have to pick up Jack from his aunt’s. I promised him we’d spend the day together.”

“That’s okay, I understand.”

He kisses you again but lingers, one last taste before he has to go.

“I would really like to take you out to dinner on our next day off.”

-.-.-

The days that follow are torture. You’re all drowning in backed up cases and the endless stream of paperwork that follows. The peaceful night of sleeping in each other’s arms and the coffee laced kisses are but a distant memory amidst this chaos.

Yet, in the rare moments when everything slows, it’s hard to keep his eyes off you, especially today. Especially when you’re wearing that red blouse. Aaron’s seen it before, appreciated it just as much as then against your complexion, but there’s something exhilarating, sinful about having seen it hang in your closet. It puts everything in a new perspective; this tantalizing secret between the two of you waiting to be realized again and again and again, if he can help it.

If only you had the time.

It takes all the self-restraint he can find within him not to approach you at the hotel. It would be easy, so easy, wouldn’t raise the faintest suspicion if he just knocked on your door after hours and you could talk – just a little. But, he can’t. He won’t. There are still limits.

Emotional exhaustion is a trap, with the mind begging for rest and the body ignoring its pleas till collapse. His body begs for you. Pleads to be held and kissed and gently lulled to sleep now that it knows the feeling.

The shower pressure is sharp, unkind, nothing like you, but the warm fog that follows… he can almost see before him the soft plane of your bare shoulder, the drops of water on your collarbone. He had not dared to look past, but he can only imagine and oh, he does. He could have surrendered himself completely, laid on top of you in the small bathtub in a mess of clothed and naked limbs. He could have allowed -begged of you- to touch him, feel any part of him you wanted to and then grant him the gift of doing the same. The smoothness of your wet body under his hands, the desperation in your kisses.

He can almost feel you on his fingertips right now, so, he gives in. Takes himself in hand to relieve the almost painful feeling. It’s muscle memory really, there should be nothing truly sensual about it but he can’t keep the images out of his head. His body recalls every detail of your touch and his mind takes advantage.

Images and feign sensations of your feather light touch on his stomach, trailing down to pay attention where he most needs you to. Your thumb presses delicately on the head, teasing him into a desperate awakening of his every sense. He is leaking for you already and you don’t let it go to waste, dragging your thumb up and down slowly until his precum spreads all over. It makes it easier to go further, pull the extra skin down gently and enjoy the sheer magnitude of him.

He jolts in your hand at the movement, but stays perfectly still after in fear that you will stop. You wouldn’t, not ever. A large vein runs on the bottom part of his cock and you can’t help but trace it, watching the way he reacts. He jolts again, begging for more, more of whatever you can give him and you take the hint. Your hand wraps around his base completely, enveloping him in softness he would die for, before beginning to move up and down in long, slow motions.

You kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck and he is about to collapse in front of you, nothing but a desperate, needy mess for you to play with. He is painfully close, can’t possibly even keep his eyes open and you can tell, so you go faster, harder. He comes with your name in his mouth.

Everything slows down from there. The spell of the warm shower fog once again wears off and when he opens his eyes, it’s painfully clear you’ve taken over his whole existence, so much so that he must fantasize about the things he’d like to do to you, and things he’d like you to do to him, in order to get through the night.

Come morning, when you’re all gathered in the jet and going home, he can’t look you in the eye.

You notice.

[warlocksoup]

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ CHAPTER ONE: evidence

HOW TO TRICK THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE INTO DATING YOU BY DATING SOMEONE ELSE (YOUR BEST FRIEND)(JUST PRETEND THOUGH)

STEP ONE: GET YOUR MOST PUSHOVER, IN LOVE WITH YOU FRIEND TO AGREE

She tries to say no, at first, for the sake of preserving at least some of her dignity. But it’s Akaashi. She was always going to say yes, eventually.

“I dunno,” she pretends to muse, slumped out on the couch with her fingers deftly moving from button to button on the controller in her hands, eyes narrowed at the television screen in front of her. “Do you really want to start out being like, deceptive? Doesn’t seem like the best way to get a girl’s attention.”

Akaashi groans, head dropping back and his arms thrown up, exasperated and defeated. “Yeah, I know, but I’ve tried everything else, and nothing gets her attention. But if she sees you, a pretty, cool girl, going out with me, then maybe she, another, pretty, cool girl, will start to see me as someone dateable.”

She snorts. “Are we in junior high? What the fuck kind of logic is that?”

He drops on the couch opposite her. “I know, it’s just,” he pauses, and sighs, “I’m desperate.”

She allows herself a string of self-lambasting thoughts, centered mainly around how pathetic she is for that selfish lurch in her chest. To say yes would be to take advantage of her best friend’s desperation, allowing him to play pretend and act out some of her most suppressed fantasies, for some plot to get the girl that, in the end, probably won’t work. She swallows and tries to make him change his mind once again. “I really don’t think this would even work, Kaashi.”

“Yeah, but I’m driving myself crazy,” he insists as her thumbs start to button-smash frantically, “and you’re the only person I trust enough to do this with. I know it’s stupid I just have to try something.”

She’s reached the end of her protests. The screen in front of her flashes red, and the word DEATH splays across her vision; she sighs. Her head lops to the side, and she blinks at a wide-eyed, completely desperate Akaashi. “Fine.”

STEP TWO: START PLANTING FALSIFIED EVIDENCE

Akaashi’s hand is intertwined with her. She stares down at it and tries to memorize it. The way his fingers look pressed into her skin, how it feels. The warmth. The callouses. The way their forearms press together and settle in the space between their thighs. Her nail polish is chipped. His thumbs are wide. The slight rocking of the train slightly rocks them, and their bodies move in tandem without trying.

Akaashi leans back slightly and uses his free hand to take a photo.

“Here,” he says after a moment of contemplation, shoving his phone in her face. “How does that look?”

Maybe she looks for too long, but there’s something off about it. It looks so much more contrived, converted to pixels on the screen of his phone. Or maybe it’s just that it’s harder to pretend this isn’t a ploy for someone else’s attention when his affection is documented like that. When she looks at her hand in his in a photo it’s a reminder that this is simply evidence captured just to inspire jealously.

Her eyes drift between the screen and the hands between her. He hasn’t let go yet, which she’s trying not to read into. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Good,” he says, his thumb tapping against her knuckle. She watches as he opens Instagram. “Should I tag you?”

She shakes her head. “No, let people wonder who it is, at first. Maybe she’ll ask.”

This brings a slight smile to Akaashi’s face, and it makes her feel oddly sick.

Ever since he asked her, she’s given into a few delusions, considering it a serious possibility that this could just be Akaashi’s convoluted, roundabout way of getting closer to her. An excuse to hold her and post pictures of her and maybe even kiss her, eventually. That maybe he wants her just as badly as she wants him.

But no amount of mental gymnastics or bending of logic can deny that unabashed giddiness at the mere suggestion that she might speak to him. It’s hard for her to deny, when he talks to her like it’s nothing, when he holds her hand like it’s nothing.

She swallows and bounces her knee. “What are you going to tell people? I mean, like, when they ask about how we got together.”

Akaashi shrugs. There’s something loading on his phone screen as he lowers it to look at her. “I dunno. Maybe that one night we just like, hooked up and then decided to date.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“No,” she offers with a slight shake of her head. It feels bad. It feels the same way food poisoning or maybe the plague would. But she can’t logically explain that one, so she just says, “That should work, I guess.”

STEP THREE: LEAN INTO THE RUMORS GOING AROUND (THAT YOU STARTED)(ON PURPOSE)

INSTAGRAM akaashikeiji has tagged you in a post!

INSTAGRAM kuroo_tetsuro: bro that’s for sure you in akaashi’s post kuroo_tetsuro: since when are you guys going out???

IMESSAGE yukie: you and akaashi are dating?? since when??

IMESSAGE iwa: so were you planning on tell me that you started going out with someone?

INSTAGRAM heyheyheybokuto commented on akaashikeiji’s post: HOLY SHIT IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS? alisahaibi commented on akaashikeiji’s post: aww so cute! love you two

IMESSAGE kaashi: holy shit did that just work

The constant buzzing of her phone provides a pretty consistent distraction from her essay on the socioeconomic conditions of the working class that led to the Bolshevik revolution. Her head is swirling with thoughts of Akaashi’s post and the failed provisional government.

Her face drops to her hands, and her phone continues to buzz on the desk beside her, just as her laptop screen goes dark, nudging her unfinished essay out of her thoughts.

She takes a moment to press the palms of her hands into her eye sockets, enjoying the pressure and the way shapes sprout up behind her closed eyelids. Akaashi’s sitting out in their living room, probably, phone in his hands staring at notification from Alisa.

He’s probably going through her account, looking through her posts, careful not to let his thumb slip and like something on accident. He’s probably smiling down at her smile, heart pounding in his chest as he thinks about her and whatever comment she left on his post.

Akaashi’s been in love with her this whole time. For as long as they’ve been friends, for as long as she’s known him; his love for her completely integrated into his personality. When prompted to list what he likes about her, he will ramble about her sweetness and beauty and her intelligence. He will list off things that Alisa has and she lacks: grace in social situations, a distinct and unique sense of style, her ability to read and understand the people around her so easily.

It seems like, everything there is to Alisa, Akaashi loves it. Whatever it is.

Her phone buzzes again. She reaches for it.

IMESSAGE iwa: you can tell me about things, yknow

Her tongue twists in her mouth, and her head bangs. It crosses her mind, briefly, that this is a bad idea, and the fallout is not worth the maybe few weeks where she can hold Akaashi’s hand and pretend that he feels an ounce of what she feels for him.

She clicks on the notification from him, the post he tagged her in, and is surprised to see her own face, grinning back at her, bare-faced and nose scrunched. There are freckles on her face she didn’t hadn’t ever noticed before. She didn’t know he had this photo. He captioned it: My pretty girl.

It’s worth, she decides instantly. It’s so immediately worth it.

She opens up her photos, and scrolls passed blurry photos of crowded whiteboards and half-eaten vegetarian lunches to find a photo of Akaashi. One of him just outside their apartment in the middle of last winter taken when he wasn’t paying attention. He’s smiling, eyes crinkled and glasses falling down his nose as he buttons up his jacket. It’s a favorite of hers, as indicated by the small white heart in the corner. Every time she sees it, she smiles.

Without stopping to think of how both wrong and vulnerable it feels, she posts it, matching it to his. My pretty boy. Undeniable evidence planted.

taglist: @charlotterosea13 @quikhs @mdmraz @mollyrolls @nazwrites-2002 @hanadulsetaad @nokjhg @alexithemiyatic @kvrokasaa @wyrcan @baylz @soobin1437

[bisexualbrainrots]

I remember oliver mentioning that lou had been nervous when they shot the first kiss scene and that got me thinking thoughts, trailer thoughts... this turned out a bit sweeter than what I'm used to with louliver. also, tagging @cjlouwho because she rotted my brain with louliver.

The knock on the door startled Lou. He had been really focused on his sketch, so much so that he tuned out the world around him for the time being.

He stood up, and a kind smile appeared on his lips when he opened the door of his trailer and saw Oliver Stark.

It hasn't been that bad to work with the kid, he was focused and serious about his craft, which he could respect, although he still wasn't used to the way his humor worked. Maybe it was the British thing.

“Hey”

“Hi, uh...” his eyes trailed off to the charcoal dust that had gotten his hands dirty, and looked at him curiously “Is this a bad time?”

Lou looked down and noticed his hands and chuckled “No! Not at all, come in!”

Oliver walked around, taking in the surroundings of the trailer that had been given to Lou, and noticed the open sketchbook on one of the tables “I didn't know you drew” his fingers brushed over the page and Lou just wanted to to take his wrist and pull him away from the drawing.

Lou tilted his head, shifting his body from side to side “I mostly paint actually, but you can't really bring paint and a canvas here, right?” he laughed nervously when he noticed Oliver had barely given him a half smile, but kept his gaze on him.

The younger took one last look around the room to turn his eyes back on Lou, and lifted what looked like the script up to the side of his face “Remember I asked if we could run some lines together?”

He nodded, finally walking towards Oliver instead of just staying there, standing on the closed door, “Right! Sorry about that, sometimes when I sketch I get into a sort of—”

“Trance? Yeah I figured” he chuckled and got closer to Lou, and pushed the script onto his chest “So, I was thinking we could practice the kiss scene, if you were okay with that”

Lou stiffened. It's not like he had problems kissing a man (nobody should know about it, he reminded himself), but the thought of his father getting to watch that sent shivers down his spine.

The thought of the world seeing the son of the Hulk kiss a man made him want to curl into a ball.

Oliver arched his brow, looking at him in confusion “You're... Not okay with it...?”

Lou quickly shook his head, shoving down the reasons deep inside his heart “It's not that! It's just I...” he sighed, looking at his sketchbook, the desire to create burning on his fingertips.

“You've never kissed a guy before?” Oliver looked at him a bit surprised, like the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

He was about to be honest, share a piece of his truth, but instead chose to go with a lie “Yeah, uh, it's not something I'm used to, if you know what I mean”

Oliver nodded, a sympathetic smile crossing his lips “Hey, it's not a big deal” he said stepping into Lou's space, their chests separated by the pages “If you close your eyes there's not really a difference, Lou”

Lou looked at him dumbfounded, he didn't know what to make of it.

Has Oliver kissed guys before? Had he like it? Would he be fine with kissing him?

He didn't know why that excited him, but his chest did that funny thing where he felt like it was about to explode, and tilted his head at the younger “Really? Wouldn't like... This make a difference?” he gestured at his stubble, and Oliver chuckled.

He liked the sound of that.

“Maybe, but in the end is just lips” he smiled, tilting his head at the older “I heard that you talked to Tim about changing this, the scene”

Lou nodded and took the script from Oliver's hands, looking for the kiss scene “Yeah, uh, I didn't think a make out scene would be appropriate for this kiss I mean... This is Buck's first kiss with a guy, it shouldn't be...”

“Too much?” Oliver finished, and Lou nodded, sort of grateful that he understood his predicament with the writing, “I get it Lou, you wanted to make it more intimate for them” Lou nodded, smiling at the younger “I really like change, did you have a plan on how to go over it?”

Lou's smile turned a bit playful, he had been thinking about all the little details he wanted to add to the kiss “I actually did, uh, I thought about this thing where I'd grab Buck's chin to guide him in? Would that be okay?”

They didn't have time for a chemistry read, so both actors took it upon themselves to practice their scenes the best they could alone, which helped in moments like this.

He noticed Oliver's eyes seemed to sparkle at the idea, and the blue in them slowly disappeared, covered by the darkness of his pupils.

“That... That would be good” Lou asked himself if he was seeing things, because there was no way Oliver Stark gulped and looked like he had lost all the air in his lungs.

Lou bit his lower lip and ducked his head to read the script “So... You wanna go about it now?” Oliver nodded frantically, and they got to it.

They stepped aside, ending on opposite ends of the trailer. As they ran their lines they got closer, just like their characters were supposed to, but Lou felt it was different somehow. Like it wasn't Buck and Tommy but them doing this.

The closeness of their bodies excited Lou, which he couldn't show because that's not how his character was like. He had to remind himself he is not Tommy Kinard, he's just an actor paid to do his job.

But it was hard not to go there when Oliver was giving him those heart eyes, when his energy pulled him in like a magnet, making him almost ditch the script and kiss him for real. Kiss him as Lou and not Tommy.

He focused back on the scene where Buck went about maiming his best friend, and when Oliver kept going like he was supposed to Lou took him by the chin and closed his eyes before joining their lips.

Oliver's body twitched and, oh my god was that sound a...? It took him less than a second but he returned the kiss, a kiss that ended very quickly for the liking of both men.

Lou's eyes were still closed, and he only opened them when his co star called his name. He wasn't ready for that sight though.

Oliver looked ecstatic, his eyes dazed like he was drunk on the kiss. There was a blush creeping up his cheeks and his lips, my god, Lou wanted to dive in and kiss those pink lips again.

But he had to contain himself. Even when he noticed the black smudge on Oliver's chin and it made him feel like his entire body was on fire.

“Uh... Sorry” he chuckled nervously, the younger's gaze still locked on him “W-was that okay Oliver?”

Oliver nodded slowly, his eyes now drifted towards Lou's mouth “Yeah, uh... That was really good Lou... The chin thing really works”

Lou's brain shortcircuited, and he thought fuck it, grabbing Oliver by the back of the neck and pulling him closer, lips brushing, “Yeah, the... The other idea I had was this, you know, grabbing Buck by the neck, do you... Do you think he'd like it?”

Lou knew he was playing with fire, this wasn't a rehearsal anymore this was just them.

Oliver nodded, beaming for the first time since he met him “Yeah, yeah, he really would, I mean who wouldn't–”

Like their characters in the show, Lou kissed Oliver to shut him up, which was funny given that in real life the older was much more like Buck in that sense, talking nonstop.

Oliver kissed him back quicker this time, and Lou relished on the feeling of younger's lips. He knew this wasn't in character anymore, but he didn't care, not when he wanted to play a bit with the younger.

Biting Oliver's lower lip got him a moan and the opportunity to slide his tongue in, which his co star took happily.

Lou's other hand found its way in the curve of Oliver's waist, holding onto it tightly. The younger, on the other hand, had his hands gripping on the older's hip, pulling him closer and closer until their bodies were flushed together.

None of them noticed they moved until Oliver made a sound because his lower back had been hit with the table. It didn't make it weird nonetheless, not when Lou's hand lowered from Oliver's waist to his thigh, grabbing and pulling it towards his hip.

Oliver groaned when he felt Lou grinding against him and returned the motion enthusiastically, with one of his hands supporting his weight on the table.

He started to slide his other hands inside Lou's shirt when they heard the door being knocked, forcing them out of their kiss.

“Lou?” a female voice the older still didn't recognize well called out his name, and made him look towards the closed door.

“Yeah? Who calls?” his hand was still gripping Oliver's thigh, now drawing circles on it with his thumb.

“It's Sarah from Hair and Makeup, we need you on the chair now” Oliver looked at him pleadingly, his eyes begging him not to leave right now as his hand played with the hem of his shirt.

But he needed to go.

He couldn't be a pain in the ass of the team, not when he was just a guest star.

So reluctantly he stepped aside, and the warmth that had built between them was met with the cool air of the AC, sending shivers down his spine.

“In a minute” he knew his voiced sounded wrecked, and he thanked the universe when the woman agreed and heard her stepping away from the trailer.

His eyes went back to Oliver who had a grim on his face “You really are leaving?” Lou closed his eyes for a second when he felt the younger's hands on his chest.

He really didn't want to go.

“Not everyone has the privilege of being a main Oliver” he chuckled and kissed his co star's cheek, making him smile “That's more like it”

Oliver rolled his eyes and hit him lightly on the chest, grabbing his pec “Okay, go, they don't like to wait” he leaned in and nuzzled their noses together “I think they're gonna get mad when they see your hands like that”

Lou laughed softly “Not as much as they're gonna hate to clean the smudge off your chin and neck Oli”

Oliver's eyes widened, a ‘what’ escaping his lips as he moved towards the closest mirror, laughing mischievously when he saw his face “Oh you are so gonna pay for this later Lou” he looked at him, a promise in those words.

Later.

He liked that.

“I'm counting on that, see ya Oliver” he laughed as he opened the door of his trailer, stepping out towards Hair and Makeup.

He didn't want to think about the implications of what just happened, not when he was feeling so giddy inside.

read on AO3

[amourcheol]

paris (teaser)

❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞

historical! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | approx. 45k words (teaser wc. 1.4k words)

s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris.

c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is incredibly bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, this will be very hurt-comfort, hella ansgty but will have a happy ending mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, slightly drunk making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), very soft angsty sex, body worshipping, petnames (chérie, mon ange, darling, angel), overall emotional rollercoaster, more tba!

p l a y l i s t : here!

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld​ @sysymei @alaypsy23 @belladaises @jjeongddol @sparklyshuji @forcoups @ilovesungjun @wonwoo24 @scandal-in-bohemia @hopefulchick @superbbananananana @onedumbho3 @fragmentof-indifference @cuntycheol @rubywonu @if-i-like-i-reblog @yoonzinoooo @jungwoos-luvr @crookedwolfruins @leclercloverbot​ @alexai (let me know if y’all want to be tagged!)

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : after three years ... four rewritings later... she may finally see the light ... i am releasing the teaser now but will post the fic when i’m back from holiday! i hope you all enjoy the lil extract <3

read this fic here!

SHIT. YOU COULD NOT DO THIS TODAY.

Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.

But then he began to move.

This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you, the greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.

“Wait,” he then said, and your throat was closing up, you were blinking rapidly, chest growing heavy, and you needed him to get away. He came closer, and you knew then and there you were going to die on the cold floor of the Louvre, marble eyes on you—

And then your own gaze was glistening, and when he noticed it became harder to contain yourself. “_____, are you all right?”

“Yes!” you got out, but then you proved yourself wrong when a few tears slipped out, staining your cheeks.

The man wasted no time, closing the last space between the two of you as he reached out. Instantly, you repelled from his touch, almost flinching from his surprise. “No!” you rasped out, bringing out your own hands to create distance, taking a step back. “No, you don’t need to do that…I’m fine.” 

You breathed sharply through your nose. “I am fine.”

Hastily you turned to the empty space where he last was, before you followed him like a madwoman around the hall. He watched you, your back almost to him. “What…what are you…” you paused, trying to normalise your shaking voice. “What are you doing here?”

You could feel his inquisitive stare upon you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

That question was not being answered. “I asked you first.”

Because you could not see him, you were not aware of his reaction. Still, it was enough for him to answer, “Well, in the Louvre, or in Paris?”

You gritted your teeth at that. “I think everyone knows why you’re in Paris at the moment.”

“Do they, now?”

You could not help it.

Casting a momentary glance at him, you were taken aback to find his gaze upon you. “Are you aware, at least?” he asked you.

Despite his simple questions, your impending headache, you had to clamp down on your remarks. “Of course I’m aware,” you muttered. “The papers are all over the press tours you’ve been doing.”

A perfectly groomed brow arched at your comment. “I’m surprised you follow the papers at the moment.” 

You knew exactly what he meant. “One must keep check of the stories they gossip about,” you only said, focusing back on the empty space. “Those journalists cannot be trusted.”

“Hmm…” you heard shuffling amongst his clothes—no doubt crossing his arms. “I have read the stories.”

A scoff. “I suppose you believe them, don’t you?”

He noted the cruelty in your response. The actor did not take it to heart.

“I have always believed in the stories you told me, chérie.”

This time, curiosity controlled your movement.

Curiosity had you turning back, forcing you to observe his expression, catch his lie. 

But you found no deception.

No, there was only sincerity—pure as the moonlight shining on the two of you.

Chérie.

The last time someone had called you such a sweet name was too long ago.

How ironic, that it was the same man beside you who had bestowed you this very endearment.

A shuddered breath left you. 

You could not do this now.

You were going to say as much when Jeonghan interrupted you.

“Were you looking for something in here?”

Your furrowed brows had him humming. “I thought as much.” Gently, he jerked his head beyond your figure. “Strangely enough, I was looking for it as well.”

Confused, you glanced back at the empty space, where that certain, mysterious sculpture was supposed to be. “That is why I came to the Louvre,” you heard him say.

There was still suspicion laced in your features. “How do you know that we are thinking of the same piece?”

That ghost of a smile crept up again. “You act as if you don’t remember.”

Your sigh was a little sheepish. “I do,” you said, reminiscing on the memories. “But the name…”

No matter how hard you endeavoured, your memory of the sculpture was too hazy for your half-drunk mind. 

You searched him for an answer. “I’m sure you have not forgotten.”

“No…I have not.”

You waited. His silence had you insisting, “Well?”

When you saw a slight glimmer in his whimsical gaze, you knew that he had something else in mind. The implications had you biting your lower lip, anxiety blooming.

The nerves grew when Jeonghan spoke.

“I will tell you if you see me tomorrow.”

You blinked back.

“There’s an exhibition opening here tomorrow afternoon,” he continued, taking a step towards you, careful not to startle you again. “It’s centred on the sculpture we both wanted to see, but it’s been moved to another hall.”

He confused you a great amount. “How do you know that?”

His stare went beyond you, to the wall. “It says on the plaque.”

Sure enough—when you looked back, there was the notice. Because your French was adequate at best, you did not understand it fully. You simply had to trust his linguistic abilities.

That you could do—you were aware of Jeonghan’s fluency in the language of love. 

He cocked his head, a few strays cascading the side of his face. “You and I could see it there.”

The offer had shaken you. “Why?”

“Why?”

You knitted your brows suspiciously. “Why do you want to go with me?”

The film noir star watched you then, you shuffling uncomfortably under his scrutiny. God, you forgot how intense his eyes were—in fairness, you had not been the subject of his stares for a few years. 

He locked his gloved hands behind his back. “Because you need a break, _____. From everything.”

He offered you a smile. “Let me be the one to give you that. If only for the day.”

You could have crumbled before him.

It was at this stage you cursed yourself for being in such a state. Perhaps if you were sober, you would have carried on this conversation in a more respectable manner, taken more caution.

It was incredibly difficult, composing yourself around the man.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, trying to form the words. “I cannot do midday…too many people, you know…staring, judging…”

“Ah.” He nodded, parting his mouth in thought. “Then tomorrow night?”

Stretching your mouth, unsure, he assured, “They will not follow you here at this hour.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

This time, he sighed, surprised at your anxiousness. “I see you’ve not changed, then.”

You narrowed your gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But the actor did not seem like he was going to elaborate. 

He instead took another step towards you, a mere two feet left. 

“Do you trust me?”

You tilted your head back. 

What kind of question was that?

Do you trust me?

You did not trust anyone. Not after this whole debacle back home, when almost all your friends within the industry had contributed to your downfall. Hollywood was filled with traitors, the worst being the people who haunted the journey of your disgrace at every moment.

It was impossible to place any ounce of faith in another.

As you watched his eyes settle on you, you noticed an emotion you had not witnessed in forever.

Tenderness.

Tenderness with no ulterior motive—gentle acceptance, as if he recognised your position. As if he recognised your change, the apprehensive nature of your questions, your pauses. It physically hurt being stained with such compassion, when you had been begging for it from the world all those weeks ago.

It hurt, having someone who understood you.

You, however, should not have been surprised.

Yoon Jeonghan had always been like this. Especially when you both were together.

You could have smiled. 

What a time that was.

As if he could read your mind, the film noir star began, “You remember, don’t you? That I’ve never let you down?”

You decided to let yourself slip—you could always blame it on the alcohol. 

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

[starriisarchives]

── ϧ𝑒 I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU

ᝰ.ᐟ jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader | duration 615

description jj comforts you after you wake up from a terrifying nightmare.

content sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ hurt ﾉ comfort ﾉ angsty ﾉ mention of jj getting shot ﾉ character death but not really.

thoughts ahhh, my first jj fanfic!! i’m always so happy to post a new fic. if you want to see more fics from me, you can always send some prompts in w your fave characters, prompt list is link down below!!

mlist 𝜗᭪ previous fic 𝜗᭪ prompts 𝜗᭪ based on this ask

Your heart shatters into pieces as you watch the light drain out of jj’s eyes, holding him close to you, tears spilling from your eyes, heavy sobs leaving your mouth. Wishing that this isn’t real, that he’s going to open his eyes at any moment, saying it's a prank but it never happens as his eyes close and he takes his last breath. “JJ…no no please don’t leave me…!” you scream, hugging him tighter than ever, never wanting to let him go. 

The plan was to come to Morocco for some answers, it isn’t supposed to end up with you clutching your boyfriend to dear end, watching him die in front of you and you couldn’t do anything to prevent it.

Your head hurts from all the crying but you couldn’t seem to calm down, no matter the others trying to get your attention, your eyes stay glued to jj’s lifeless body. All the memories you spent together flashing in your mind; to your first date to your anniversary date where he went out of his way to impress you, knowing that this is the end of your life together.

You wish for a second chance to spend a little more time with him, you always picture a future with him, this wasn’t part of the plan. You didn’t know how you’re going to move past this, what are you supposed to do if you couldn’t see his loving laugh one last time? Who would you run to for whenever you needed to just vent?

He's your safe space and forever will be. “JJ… please I’m begging you to please come back!” you sob, forgetting to breathe, feeling nothing but pain and agony when he doesn’t do what you ask. A blood curdling scream exits your mouth as you continuously shake his body. 

Your eyes snap open letting out a big gasp, tears leaving your eyes, your heart pounding as you look up into jj’s blue eyes. “Baby you’re okay, breathe for me,” he speaks as he watches you inhale and exhale. “Good, keep breathing just like that. Nice and slow, tell me what’s wrong?”

“I…I had a dream that you… died after getting…shot,” you stutter, tears falling down your cheek, his hand cupping your face as his thumbs wipe away the fallen tears, placing your hand on top of his, gripping it tight. 

“You were gone…and I couldn’t do anything to stop it or bring you back. It was like a nightmare I couldn’t escape,” you let go a breath you didn’t know you’re holding, more tears falling down. “Shhh baby…Whatever you saw in there isn't real. I'm real, okay? I'm here.” JJ says, his voice calm as he pulls you closer in his embrace, you place your ear on top of his heart, hearing it beat is what helps soothe you. 

“I…I just don’t want to lose you.” you sniff. “You won’t because I’m not going anywhere,” jj reassures you, rubbing softly up and down on your back. “You promise?” 

“I promise baby.” he kisses your head, breathing in your lovely scent. “How about I make you some hot chocolate while you pick a movie?” he asks as you pull away to look into his eyes. “Can I come with you?” you question and he just nods softly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, you’re in relief that it was just a nightmare, happy to still be able to breathe in his scent, happy that you get to receive his forehead kisses that you love so much. With how strong your love is with JJ, there’s nothing that can separate him from you.

comments (if you want to be tagged in obx fics, click here) @cherriespopsicle, @anamiad00msday, @ren-ni.

thank you for watching! © starriisarchives 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[bullet-prooflove]

Stay Tonight: Dwight Manfredi x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @skellyagogo @sca3a @kenbechillin @mandy426

Companion piece to:

Dior - Dwight wakes up to the scent of Dior and lipstick on his chest.

Gunpowder & Roses - Dwight's enemies make a mistake when they come after you.

Hell of A Message - You send a message to your ex Bill.

The Cowboy At Your Door - Your ex Bill shows up in response to your message.

You’re tired.

Dwight can see that the moment you open the door to him. Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and there’s a weariness in you that he’s never seen before. He realises that’s because you hide this part of yourself, the human side, the vulnerable side. He wants you to know you don’t have to do that with him, that he wants every part of you, not just the persona you put on for everybody else.

“You gonna let me take care of you tonight?” He asks you as he leans in the doorway, the black leather overnight bag clasped in his hand.

“I’m too tired to fuck.” You tell him and he smiles because he finds your forthrightness very refreshing.

“Well I’d like to think I’m a good cuddler.” He tells you and it’s your turn to smile because it’s been a long time since you’ve gone to bed with a man that hasn’t wanted something from you.

He takes his time undressing you, his fingers undoing the each of the buttons of the dress shirt you’re wearing as his gaze stays fixed on yours. You’re beautiful even with the bruising. A masterpiece draped in cotton and ink. This thing between the two of you, it may have started as a very physical attraction but it’s become more far more than that over the past few weeks.  The fabric flutters from your shoulders, falling to the floor before Dwight helps you to remove your bra and panties. He picks up the blue and white striped pyjama set you’ve already laid out across the bed, helping you into the elasticated shorts before drawing the shirt up your shoulders and fastening each of the buttons.

“Thank you.” You say softly as his thumb ghosts along your jaw and he realises it’s been a long time since someone has looked after you.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He whispers, his mouth capturing yours in a tender kiss. “This is what you do when you care about someone.”

He gets you settled into bed before he begins to unpack his own overnight bag, setting the items down onto dressing table and chair. He likes the look of his things intermingled with yours, the blend of masculinity and femininity, he wonders if this is what it could look like in the future if you continue down this road.

“Dwight.” You say with a hint of amusement as he pulls out his clothing. “Did you bring pyjamas?”

“I did.” He says as he turns to face you, holding up the black silk bottoms. “I thought I’d bring the  appropriate attire considering we’re having our first sleepover.”

The two of you have fucked before but he never wakes up with you, you always leave before the sun rises. Him being here tonight, it changes things, it shows that he’s invested, the fact you’re letting him stay, it shows that you are too.

“I hope you don’t snore.” He says as he climbs into bed alongside of you. His arm wraps around your waist, gathering you up close. Your legs tangle with his as he tucks you in against his chest.

“I wouldn’t know.” You tell him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re the first man to sleep over since I bought the place.”

“That seems fitting considering you were my first.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours.

His fingertips trace over your features and he can feel your body starting to relax against him as your eyes flutter closed. You’re breathing starts to even out and you nuzzle in a little closer, your palm coming to rest on the space where his heart resides in his chest.

People think that sex is the most intimate thing you can do with a person but Dwight thinks it’s this. Putting your faith in someone else when you’re at your most exposed, it’s not something people in your line of work do. He thinks it speaks volumes about the direction your relationship is heading.

“Good night baby.” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your temple. “I hope you have the sweetest damn dreams.”

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