#quiet does not equal good

[gramarobin]

🫣

[aro-ortega]

replayed beck. they kissed rayyan this time, and im glad it was like a good heated rivals at the locker kiss. perfect. mwah

[tojigasm]

I'm imagining how Logan letting you see his claws up close for the first time would go and like not to be too tmi, but I do think Logan's claw slits would be soooo sensitive.

I could imagine him not really holding hands with you or letting you get too close to his hands in general until the two of you have progressed past something superficial.

The first time he lets you even get near his hands is when the two of you are lying in his bed. Your back pressed to his chest and his chin resting atop your head.

You've got one of his hands held by both of yours, running your fingers over his blue veins and tracing the divets and scars of his skin.

"How'd you get this one?" You ask, running your thumb over the rough line of skin, tilting your head up against his chin some.

His other hand momentarily stops its path where he'd been smoothing it down the soft of your arm.

"Think I was cutting up an apple," he jokes.

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles and he presses a kiss to the side of your temple, moving to speak before he's suddenly caught off with a moan so low you almost weren't sure what it was at first.

Logan doesn't even seem as though he's noticed as his brows remain furrowed and his body relaxed beneath you.

"What was that?" You turn to him, brows arched. You know he can already read the scheming expression written over your features.

Wordlessly, he pops his neck as he moves his hand upwards towards your face, pulling your hands along with it.

Balling his hand into a fist, he turns his knuckles towards you.

Your eyes catch on three small slits between each of his digits, only about half and inch or so long.

Cautiously, you run the tip of your finger down the length of one, earning a shiver from the man beneath you.

"Does it hurt?" You say quietly, nearly a whisper. Almost as if speaking too loud would startle the riveting atmosphere of the room.

You feel him shake his head 'no' behind you before he says gently, "feels good."

You give a slow nod at that, eyes glued to his knuckles.

"Can I touch them again?" You ask after a quiet moment passes.

Logan hums from behind you, "Go ahead."

You're careful in the amount of pressure you apply as you gently stroke the tips of your finger down each slit, relishing in the soft hums earned by the man behind you.

You can feel Logan's eyes watching you – as if equally enthralled with your newfound fascination of his mutation.

He lets you enjoy the delicate nature of it. A man so brutally threatening and deemed almost wild for the majority of his life subdued by something so seemingly trivial about the very thing that labeled him dangerous in the first place.

It's sweet to him.

"D'like it?" Your voice pulls him from his haze.

He seems to mull over his response, unfurling his hand to flex all five fingers in a spread palm.

"S'okay," he offers before unsheathing his claws, letting you look them over.

The lights from his room add a sparkle to their sharp tips, and for a moment, he finds his loathed despotion for them to be almost futile.

"They're pretty." You comment, meeting his hazel eyes in the metallic reflection of them.

He scoffs, "That's just cus' you're lookin' at yourself in 'em."

You feel him reach towards his beer on the nightstand. "I mean it." You click your tongue.

It's a sensitive topic for him, you know that.

Logan takes a swig of his beer, taking another look at his claws. He turns his hand back and forth before retracting them with a 'Shing!'

"Well, in that case," he flicks your temple with a chuckle, "Thank you."

"Can I see them again?" You pull his hand back into your own.

With a sigh, Logan unsheathes his claws for you again.

He takes another swig of his beer, mumbling "Brat."

[brainrotcharacters]

can I also add, for the rest of the class, that for someone so physically feral and zip-zappy during combat, the inside of Logan's mind/trauma is so peaceful and organized?

and for someone who, by all accounted weapons of twin swords and twin guns, objects of precision and accuracy btw, the inside of Wade's mind/trauma is messy and chaotic?

rewatching Deadpool and Wolverine and there's something to be said about how Wade's head was messier than Logan's

[pucksandpower]

Die With a Smile

Charles Leclerc x death!Reader

Summary: desperation is a dangerous thing — six seasons without a World Drivers’ Championship has left Charles willing to do anything for glory … even pay the ultimate price (or in which Charles Leclerc sacrifices everything for Ferrari and, thanks to you, learns that death is nothing like he expected)

Warnings: major character death

Charles Leclerc has always been one for precision. Calculated. Calm. But now? Now there’s nothing left. Precision has eroded into a recklessness that terrifies and excites him in equal measure. The pursuit of glory is the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Melbourne is hot, the air thick and sticky with anticipation. He stands in the paddock, helmet in hand, eyes tracing over the sea of faces. Reporters, mechanics, engineers — all of them moving with purpose. The season begins here, but he can’t shake this feeling that something else is starting too.

He frowns, scanning the crowd again. Something — or someone — has caught his attention.

You stand there, leaning against a barrier, watching him. Quiet, still. You don’t belong in this chaos, yet somehow, you fit. It's not like the usual glances from fans or the admiring stares from strangers. No, this is different. He doesn’t know why, but the sight of you pulls him in, like a thread slowly unraveling.

His grip tightens around the helmet. “Who’s that?” He mutters under his breath, half to himself, half to anyone nearby.

Pierre, standing a few feet away, catches the tail end of his question and follows his gaze. “Who?”

“There.” Charles nods subtly toward you. You’re still there, eyes locked on him. Unblinking. He swallows hard.

Pierre shrugs, oblivious. “No clue. Probably a fan or something. You good?”

Charles doesn’t answer. You’re not a fan. You’re something else. His heart thuds in his chest, a slow, deliberate beat, like a countdown. He can almost hear it. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“I’m fine,” he says, but the words feel empty. He’s not fine. He feels like he’s balancing on the edge of something dangerous, and you’re the reason why.

Suddenly, the world around him — the voices, the clamor of the paddock — fades, and it’s just you and him. You, watching him with a calmness that unnerves him. And him, standing there, frozen, unable to look away.

“I’ll see you after the race,” Pierre says, giving him a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. Charles doesn’t even register his friend’s departure.

He doesn’t move, his body rooted to the spot as if some unseen force has pinned him in place. It’s stupid. Ridiculous. Why can’t he look away?

There’s a flicker in your eyes — something fleeting, something dark. His pulse quickens. He knows that look. He’s seen it before, in mirrors, in the faces of men with nothing left to lose.

But you … you wear it differently. Effortlessly.

Charles takes a step toward you. His boots hit the asphalt with a dull thud, and suddenly, he’s walking, moving through the crowd without really seeing anyone. His focus narrows, sharp and deadly. He can feel it, the pull, the way his every step is dragging him closer to something he can’t explain.

And then he’s standing in front of you.

You don’t smile. You don’t say anything. You just watch him, your expression unreadable, like you’re waiting for something.

His throat is dry. “Who are you?”

For a moment, silence stretches between you, thick and unyielding. And then you tilt your head, ever so slightly, as if considering the question.

“Does it matter?” Your voice is soft, almost too soft, but it cuts through the noise around them like a blade.

He blinks, thrown off balance. He expected — he doesn’t know what he expected. Something more. Something less. But not this.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing hard, “I think it does.”

You shift your weight, crossing your arms over your chest, but your eyes never leave his. “And why is that?”

He hesitates. Why does it matter? He’s not sure. All he knows is that standing here, with you in front of him, he feels something heavy pressing down on him. Like time is slipping through his fingers, like he’s running out of chances, running out of-

“You’re in my head,” he says, more to himself than to you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you in my head?”

You don’t answer right away, but your gaze sharpens, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. “Maybe because you’ve been looking for me.”

His breath catches. “What?”

“You don’t realize it yet, but you’ve been waiting for this. For me.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He feels like the ground beneath him is shifting, like everything he thought he knew about himself is crumbling.

“You’re wrong,” he says, but his voice lacks conviction. “I’m not waiting for anything.”

You raise an eyebrow, and for the first time, a ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s not a kind smile. It’s knowing. Cold.

“Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer. Can’t. The world around them feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker, like it’s closing in on him.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

That sound again. It’s louder now, reverberating in his skull.

“You’re scared,” you say, and it’s not a question.

“I’m not scared.”

“You should be.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but no words come out. Because you’re right. He is scared. But not of you. He’s scared of what you represent. Of the way his pulse pounds in his ears, the way his chest feels tight with something he doesn’t understand.

And you know it. You see right through him.

“This season,” you say, your voice low, “it’s your last, isn’t it?”

He stiffens. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t expect to come out of this alive.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter, hollow. “I don’t have a choice. I either win, or …”

“Or you die.”

His breath hitches. The way you say it, so matter-of-fact, so final — it shakes him. Because it’s true. He’s been feeling it for months, this gnawing sense that if he doesn’t win the championship, there’s nothing left for him. He’ll push until he breaks. And he doesn’t care anymore.

But how do you know that? How could you possibly know?

“You don’t get to decide that,” he snaps, more harshly than he intends.

You don’t flinch. “You’re right. I don’t.”

The implication hangs between you, unspoken but loud. There’s something inevitable about this. Something neither of you can control.

He takes a step back, suddenly needing space, air — anything to break the tension building between you. But even as he moves, he can still feel the weight of your gaze on him, can still hear the ticking in his head, louder and louder, counting down to something he can’t escape.

“You’re wrong,” he says again, though this time, it’s more for himself than for you. “I’ll win. I’ll be fine.”

You don’t argue. You just watch him, that cold, knowing smile still playing at the edges of your lips.

“We’ll see,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, you turn and walk away, disappearing into the crowd as quickly as you appeared, leaving him standing there, heart racing, mind spinning.

He should be focusing on the race. On the championship. On everything he’s spent his entire life chasing.

But all he can think about is you. And the way his time feels like it’s running out.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

***

The roar of the engine fills his ears, drowning out everything else. The speed is intoxicating, the way the car moves beneath him, barely hanging on to the asphalt, the tires biting into the corners with every turn. He’s pushing harder than he should — he knows it, and he doesn’t care.

Spa is unforgiving today. The clouds hang low, threatening rain, and the track is slick, treacherous. Charles feels the tension in his body, every muscle taut, every nerve on edge. There’s no margin for error here. He’s on the edge, teetering, dancing with disaster. But that’s where he’s been living for months now — on the edge.

He downshifts hard coming out of Blanchimont, the rear of the car twitching beneath him. His heart pounds against his ribcage. He’s faster than he needs to be — faster than is safe. But he can’t let up. The rest of the field is closing in, and the gap between him and the car ahead is shrinking. Just a little more, just-

Then, suddenly, the car snaps.

A violent jolt sends him skidding off the track, the rear tires giving way, and for a brief, horrifying second, he loses control. The world tilts, and all he sees is the blur of gravel and barriers rushing toward him. Instinct takes over. His hands are a blur on the steering wheel as he fights to regain control. The tires scream against the ground, the car skidding sideways, throwing him against the seat belts with bone-rattling force.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his heart pounding in his throat. He’s losing it, the car sliding further into the runoff area, the barrier looming closer.

But then — somehow — he recovers. The car snaps back into line, and he breathes out a shaky breath, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel. He’s back on the track, the car steady beneath him, but his heart is still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Charles, are you okay?” His engineer’s voice crackles through the radio, tense and urgent.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice shaky. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But he’s not fine. His hands are trembling, his vision is still blurred with the image of the gravel, the barrier — the almost crash. For a split second, he saw it. Saw what could have happened. What should have happened if his reflexes hadn’t kicked in.

He pulls the car to a slow halt, off the track now, coming to rest just inside the gravel trap. The engine hums, a low, steady sound that does nothing to calm him.

He sits there, breathing heavily, his head resting against the seat, eyes closed. He’s been reckless before, but this? This was different. He came so close to-

And then he feels it.

A presence.

His eyes snap open, and there you are. Standing just beyond the fence, not more than twenty feet from where his car rests. You’re watching him, the same way you did in Melbourne, your gaze locked on him with that unnerving calm that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

For a moment, he wonders if he’s imagining it. The adrenaline is still pumping, his mind is spinning, and maybe — just maybe — you’re a hallucination. But no. You’re real. You’re standing there, just beyond the track, watching him.

His breath catches in his throat.

“Charles, talk to us. Do you need assistance?” His engineer’s voice comes through the radio again, but he can’t respond. He’s frozen, staring at you through the shattered remnants of the race.

“Charles?” The voice repeats, more urgent now.

But he can’t tear his eyes away from you.

You tilt your head slightly, as if you’re considering something, as if you’re weighing his fate in your hands. And then, without a word, you take a step closer to the fence, your eyes never leaving his.

“Not yet,” you say, your voice somehow carrying through the din, through the chaos of the race and the pounding of his heart. It’s soft, almost a whisper, but he hears it as clearly as if you’re standing right next to him. “But soon.”

His blood runs cold.

He knows what you mean. He knows, deep down, that this is a warning. He can feel it, the weight of it pressing down on him, like the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind, counting down to something inevitable.

He swallows hard, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the words stick in his throat. “Who — who are you?” He manages to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t answer. You never answer. Instead, you just watch him, your expression unreadable, like you already know how this ends.

The world around him feels distant now, like everything is moving in slow motion. The sound of the engines, the cheers of the crowd — it all fades into the background, leaving just you and him, locked in this strange, silent moment.

“Charles, we need you to respond,” the engineer’s voice cuts in again, breaking the spell for just a second.

He fumbles for the radio, his hand shaking as he presses the button. “I’m — I’m fine,” he says, his voice strained. “Give me a minute.”

There’s a pause on the other end, but they don’t push him further. Not yet.

He exhales slowly, trying to steady himself, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He’s been reckless, yes. But this? This feels like more than just a close call. This feels like a warning. Like you’re here to remind him of something he’s been trying to ignore.

“Why are you here?” He asks, his voice barely audible over the hum of the car.

You don’t move. Don’t speak. But your eyes — they tell him everything. You’re here because of him. Because of the choices he’s making, the risks he’s taking. You’re here because he’s running out of time.

“You said … in Melbourne …” His voice trails off as he struggles to find the words. He remembers what you said. That he’s been looking for you, even if he didn’t realize it. That his time was running out.

And now, here you are. Again. Watching him.

“I don’t need you,” he says suddenly, his voice rising with a mixture of anger and fear. “I’m not done yet.”

Your expression doesn’t change. You don’t flinch. It’s as if you’ve heard these words a thousand times before.

“I will win,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’m going to win.”

You take a step closer to the fence, your gaze unwavering. “We’ll see.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and final. He can’t tell if it’s a promise or a threat. Maybe it’s both.

He clenches his fists around the steering wheel, the leather cool against his skin. He wants to shout at you, to demand answers, to make you go away. But deep down, he knows you’re not the kind of thing you can just wish away. You’re something else. Something bigger. Something he doesn’t understand.

And yet, you’re here. Watching. Waiting.

“I don’t have a choice,” he mutters, his voice breaking. “I have to win.”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. The truth is already hanging between you.

Tick. Tock.

He can hear it again. That ticking. It’s louder now, more insistent, like the hands of a clock speeding up, racing toward some unseen finish line.

Charles shakes his head, as if trying to clear the sound from his mind. But it’s no use. The ticking is there, buried deep in his skull, a reminder that time is slipping away.

“I can still do this,” he whispers, almost desperately. “I can still win.”

Your gaze softens, just for a moment, and he wonders if you feel sorry for him. If you pity him.

“Maybe,” you say, and it’s the closest thing to compassion he’s heard from you. “But at what cost?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but the words die in his throat. Because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what it will cost him. He doesn’t want to know.

You take one last, lingering look at him, your eyes scanning his face as if memorizing every detail, and then you turn, your figure disappearing into the haze of the track, swallowed up by the world beyond the fence.

He sits there, still trembling, still shaken. His fingers slowly unclench from the steering wheel, and he lets out a long, ragged breath.

“Charles?” His engineer’s voice again, but softer this time. “Are you okay? We’re ready to bring you back in.”

He doesn’t respond right away. His mind is still reeling, still stuck in that moment when you stood there, just beyond the fence, watching him. Judging him.

“I’m coming in,” he finally says, his voice hoarse.

The car hums back to life as he nudges it forward, back onto the track. But his hands are still shaking. His pulse is still racing.

And in the back of his mind, the ticking continues.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

***

The rain is relentless in Suzuka. Sheets of water hammer down on the track, turning every corner into a hazard, every straight into a test of nerve. The spray from the tires rises like smoke, blurring the lines between the asphalt and the dark sky.

Charles can barely see more than a few meters in front of him, but he doesn’t let up. His foot is heavy on the throttle, fingers gripping the wheel like a lifeline. He’s teetering on the edge of control, dancing that fine line between dangerous and deadly.

Every lap feels like a gamble. He’s driving blind, trusting the car to hold steady, trusting himself not to make a mistake. But the mistakes are creeping in. He can feel it. The tires are slipping, the rear end twitching beneath him as he pushes harder, faster. The rain pounds against his helmet, and the world outside the cockpit is a chaotic blur of water and noise.

“Charles, we need you to back off,” his engineer’s voice crackles through the radio, thick with concern. “Conditions are getting worse.”

He doesn’t respond. His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, every muscle in his body tense, every instinct screaming at him to keep pushing. He knows the risks. He knows what’s at stake. But slowing down isn’t an option. Not for him.

“Charles, can you hear me?” The voice comes again, more insistent this time.

He blinks, his vision briefly clearing through the rain. And then he sees it.

A figure. Just beyond the barriers, standing at the edge of the track, half-obscured by the downpour. At first, it’s just a blur of motion, but as he hurtles closer, the figure sharpens into focus.

His breath catches in his throat. It can’t be.

Jules.

It’s impossible, but there he is — Jules Bianchi, standing on the side of the track, just where the runoff ends and the grass begins, his face calm, serene. Just like Charles remembers him. His heart leaps into his throat, a wave of emotion crashing over him, threatening to overwhelm him.

“Jules?” He whispers, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.

He blinks, just for a second. But when his eyes open again, Jules is gone. And in his place, there’s you.

Charles’ chest tightens, his hands shaking on the wheel as the car skids slightly on the wet track. You’re standing where Jules was, your gaze locked on him, calm and unyielding. The rain pours down around you, but you don’t move. You don’t blink. You just watch him, lap after lap.

“What the hell …” His voice cracks, his heart pounding harder than it should.

He can’t take his eyes off you, not even as the car barrels down the straight. The rain is coming down harder now, a relentless torrent that threatens to drown him in its fury. His mind spins, struggling to make sense of what he’s seeing. First Jules, now you — both of you standing there, on the edge of the track like ghosts from different parts of his life, haunting him.

Lap after lap, you’re there. Always in the same spot, just beyond the barrier, watching him. He blinks through the rain, but you never leave.

“Charles, please, respond,” his engineer’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp with worry. “You need to slow down. The rain’s too heavy. We’re going to box.”

“I’m fine,” Charles snaps, his voice strained. “I’m staying out.”

He can hear the hesitation in the silence that follows. They don’t want to argue with him — not now, not when he’s like this. But he knows they’re watching, knows they can see the telemetry, knows they can see that he’s pushing the car beyond its limits.

He doesn’t care. He has to keep going. He has to — for Jules.

But why are you here? Why now? Why after Jules?

His hands shake on the wheel as he takes another corner too fast, the rear tires sliding out before he regains control. His heart is racing, his mind a mess of emotions, and still — you’re there. You’re always there.

Charles grits his teeth, his jaw clenched so tight it hurts. “What do you want from me?” He mutters under his breath, his voice trembling. He knows you can’t hear him, not through the roar of the engine and the crash of rain, but it doesn’t matter. You’re in his head now. You’ve been in his head since Melbourne.

And now, Jules too?

It’s almost too much. The memories of his godfather crash over him, a flood of grief and guilt he’s been pushing down for years. Jules’ voice, his smile, the way he believed in Charles even when Charles didn’t believe in himself.

But Jules is gone. Has been for a long time.

So why did he see him?

“Charles, box, box,” the radio crackles, cutting through his thoughts again.

“I said no!” He snaps, his voice sharper than he intended. His breath is coming fast, too fast, his chest tight with something he can’t name.

He takes the next corner harder than he should, the car sliding dangerously close to the wall. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel, his body tense, rigid. His mind is racing — too fast, too chaotic. The rain pounds harder against the car, and visibility is almost zero now, the track a slick, treacherous river beneath him.

And then, as he speeds past the spot where you stand, something shifts.

He swears he hears your voice. Soft, almost a whisper, but unmistakable. “Charles.”

It’s like ice down his spine. His heart skips a beat, his grip faltering for just a second.

He jerks the wheel, the car sliding as he corrects it, narrowly avoiding the barrier. His pulse is racing, his breathing erratic. He glances toward where you’re standing, but you don��t move. Don’t say anything else. Just watch. Always watching.

“Damn it,” he mutters, his heart pounding so loud he can barely hear anything else. “Damn it!”

The ticking is back. That familiar, maddening sound in the back of his mind. It’s been there for months now, growing louder, more insistent with every race, every lap. And now it’s deafening, drowning out everything else, a reminder of the time slipping through his fingers.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“You’re running out of time.”

Your voice echoes in his head, soft and calm, but laced with something darker. Something inevitable.

“I know!” He shouts, his voice hoarse, desperate. He knows he’s running out of time. He’s known it for months. Every race, every moment, feels like it’s pulling him closer to the edge, closer to you.

But he won’t stop. He can’t stop.

Jules wouldn’t want him to.

The thought of Jules — of his godfather, watching him, believing in him — gives him a surge of strength. He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he pushes the car harder, faster, through the rain-soaked chaos.

“I’ll win,” he mutters, his voice fierce. “I’ll win for him.”

The car slides again, the tires struggling for grip, but he doesn’t care. He pushes harder, faster. The track is a blur beneath him, the rain blinding, but all he can think about is Jules. About you. About the ticking clock in his head.

And still, you’re there. Lap after lap, you watch him. Unblinking. Unwavering.

“You don’t have to do this,” your voice whispers in his mind, soft but relentless.

“I do,” he growls, his teeth gritted against the storm. “I have to.”

There’s a flash of lightning overhead, illuminating the track for a brief moment, and in that instant, he sees you clearer than ever. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything falls away. The rain, the track, the car — it all disappears, leaving just the two of you, suspended in time.

“You can’t outrun this,” you say, and there’s something almost sad in your voice. “You know that.”

He shakes his head, his hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are white. “I can try.”

You don’t argue. You never do. You just watch him, like you always do, waiting. Waiting for him to understand.

He takes the final corner, the car sliding dangerously close to the wall, and as he crosses the line, the checkered flag waving in the rain, he feels it.

The ticking stops.

And for the first time in months, there’s silence.

But it’s not a relief.

It’s a warning.

Because he knows — deep down — that this isn’t over.

Not yet.

You’re still watching. And he’s still running.

But he can’t run forever.

***

The lights of Abu Dhabi shimmer under the night sky, illuminating the track like a stage set for the final act. The crowd is a sea of red, Ferrari flags waving in anticipation, in hope. This is it. The final race. The decider.

Charles sits in his cockpit, the engine vibrating beneath him, the roar of the crowd a distant hum behind his helmet. He’s been here before — so close — but this time, it’s different. This time, he feels it. The championship is within his grasp. The ticking in his head has been growing louder all season, but tonight, it’s almost deafening.

Lap after lap, corner after corner, he’s been inching closer to victory. Every second matters, every move counts. His heart pounds in sync with the car, the pressure of the moment squeezing at his chest, but he doesn’t let it crack him. Not now. He can’t. Not when everything he’s fought for is just beyond the finish line.

“Stay focused, Charles,” the voice of his engineer comes through the radio, calm but urgent.

“I’m focused,” Charles mutters, his voice tight with determination. His eyes flicker to the rearview mirrors — no one behind him. He’s clear.

The laps tick down, and with each one, the championship feels closer, heavier. The car is holding together, despite the heat, despite the pressure he’s putting on it. Ferrari has given him everything, and now he’s about to repay that faith. The Tifosi will finally have what they’ve been waiting for.

The last corner comes too quickly, but his hands are steady on the wheel. He navigates the turn, his body leaning into it as if willing the car to stay glued to the track. And then he’s there — the straight before the finish line, the end of the race.

“Go, go, go!” His engineer’s voice rises, the excitement breaking through. “You’ve got it, Charles!”

The chequered flag waves ahead, and in a breathless moment, it’s over.

Charles crosses the line. World Champion.

For a second, he’s still. Then the realization crashes into him like a tidal wave. He’s done it. He’s won. The championship is his.

The radio crackles again, his engineer’s voice cutting through the noise. “Charles — Champion of the World! You’ve done it! We’ve done it!”

A shaky laugh escapes Charles’ lips. “We did it. We actually did it,” he breathes, disbelief and euphoria blending together.

He can hear the team screaming over the radio, their joy contagious. “Grazie, Charles! Grazie! You’re the World Champion!”

He laughs again, more freely this time, his body shaking with adrenaline. “For Ferrari. For the Tifosi.”

His eyes well up as he glances at the sea of red in the stands. It’s everything he ever wanted. Glory. History. His name etched forever in the annals of the sport. He lifts a hand, a small wave toward the crowd, though they can’t see him from inside the cockpit.

“I can’t believe it,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I actually did it.”

His heart is racing, but it’s not the same as before. This time, it’s relief. It’s joy. It’s everything he’s sacrificed for, everything he’s given to this dream.

He presses the brake pedal gently, ready to slow down for the cool-down lap, to take it all in, but-

Nothing happens.

A frown creases his brow. He presses again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

Panic flickers at the edge of his mind. “No … No, no, no …”

He pushes the brake pedal to the floor, but the car doesn’t respond. It doesn’t slow. The speedometer remains steady — too fast, too uncontrolled.

“Brakes aren’t working,” he says into the radio, trying to keep his voice calm, but his heart is pounding again, this time for a different reason. Something’s wrong. Very wrong.

“What? What do you mean?” His engineer’s voice is sharp, laced with fear.

“The brakes!” Charles snaps, his breath quickening. “They’re not working. I can’t slow down.”

He can feel the car resisting him, the engine still pushing forward, the barriers coming closer. The panic is rising now, clawing at his throat, tightening around his chest. He tries to steer, to find some way to slow the car, but there’s nothing. The barriers are closing in, the speed too high, too dangerous.

“Charles, try the emergency system-”

“I already have!” His voice cracks, desperation breaking through. The car is screaming beneath him, the speed a deadly weapon now, not a tool of victory.

And then he sees you.

You’re standing right by the barrier, just ahead, as if you’ve been waiting for him all along.

His heart stops for a second, time freezing around him. You’re so still, so calm, watching him. Watching him as the car barrels toward you, toward the barrier, toward the inevitable.

“No …” Charles breathes, his voice barely a whisper. His hands are shaking on the wheel now, his vision blurring from the speed, from the fear. He can see the crash coming, can feel it in his bones.

But you don’t move. You just watch.

His chest tightens, and the ticking is back, louder than ever. It’s all he can hear now, that maddening, relentless ticking.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You don’t have to say anything. He knows. He’s always known. He’s been running toward this moment, toward you, since the beginning.

“Charles, try to-” His engineer’s voice cuts in again, but it’s too late.

The car slams into the barrier with a deafening crash, metal crunching, glass shattering. The world explodes around him, spinning, breaking apart. Pain flares through his body, white-hot and sharp, and then everything goes dark.

He’s still. Silent. The only sound is the faint crackling of the radio, his engineer’s voice distant, broken by static. “Charles? Charles, can you hear me? Charles?”

But Charles can’t move. He can barely think. The pain is numbing now, his body heavy, unresponsive. His vision is blurry, the world around him fading in and out of focus.

And then, through the haze, he sees you again. You’re walking toward him, slowly, steadily, through the wreckage of the car. The world is quiet now, eerily still, as if time itself has stopped.

Charles’ breath is shallow, his heart struggling to keep up. He can feel it — the end. It’s here. It’s always been here, waiting for him.

You come closer, your footsteps silent, your face calm, almost peaceful. You stop just beside the cockpit, your eyes meeting his.

“Is this it?” Charles whispers, his voice barely audible, his chest tight with the effort of speaking. His vision is fading fast, the darkness closing in. But you’re the only thing he can see clearly.

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. He knows.

You kneel beside him, your hand reaching out, and for the first time, you touch him. Your fingers brush against his skin, cold and soft, and in that moment, everything stops.

The ticking in his head goes silent.

The world fades.

And Charles Leclerc, World Champion, breathes his last breath.

He’s gone.

But his name — his glory — will live on forever. He gave everything. Sacrificed everything.

For Ferrari. For the Tifosi. For the dream.

And now, he is part of that legacy, forever written in the stars.

He won.

He died for glory.

***

The streets of Maranello are overflowing with grief.

Charles stands next to you, or at least what’s left of him does. His soul, untethered from the wreckage, feels weightless, though the weight of the moment is crushing. He can’t feel the ground beneath him anymore, can’t feel the warmth of the sun or the bite of the wind. All he can feel is the suffocating sorrow of the crowd, pressing in from every direction.

And the crowd. Dio mio, the crowd. Thousands — no, hundreds of thousands — of Tifosi flood the streets, a sea of red and black, their flags raised high, but there is no joy in their colors today. No triumphant cheers. Just the sound of sobs, muffled by hands pressed to faces, by the raw weight of a collective heartbreak that can’t be put into words.

The Ferrari factory looms behind them, draped in mourning banners, the Prancing Horse emblem hanging in black, somber and silent. The air is thick with the scent of incense, flowers — and death.

It’s impossible to look at them, and yet Charles can’t tear his eyes away. Grown men, hardened by life, stand with tears streaming down their faces. Fathers and sons alike, clutching each other as if holding on will somehow stem the flood of loss that grips them.

Charles looks at you, his breath — if he had any left — shuddering in his chest. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You’re silent, standing beside him, your presence both a comfort and a reminder. This is what it means to be gone. To be remembered, but no longer part of the world.

“Do they …” He trails off, his voice thick with disbelief. “Do they miss me this much?”

You glance at him, your eyes calm but unreadable. “What did you expect?” Your voice is soft, but there’s an edge of inevitability to it, as if the scene before him was always written in the stars, just like his fate.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. Or at least, he tries to. The motion feels more like a memory than a reality. “I thought … I thought they’d move on.”

You tilt your head, the faintest hint of a smile ghosting across your lips. “They won’t. Not from this. Not from you.”

His eyes flicker back to the crowd, his chest tight. There’s no end to them. They fill the streets, every inch of space, like blood rushing through the veins of this small Italian town. He sees children on their fathers’ shoulders, wearing tiny Ferrari caps. Women clutching scarves, their eyes red from crying. He’s never seen this kind of devotion, not like this. Not for him.

He spots an elderly man near the front, his face weathered and lined, but the tears falling down his cheeks are fresh. He’s holding a photo of Charles — young, smiling, a memory of a better time. A time when the world still held onto hope.

Charles feels his throat tighten, his eyes burning despite the fact that he can’t cry anymore. “Why …” He swallows hard, his voice cracking. “Why are they all here? Why does it hurt them this much?”

You turn to face him fully, your expression steady, knowing. “Because you were theirs. Il Predestinato. The one they believed in. You gave them hope, and you gave them your life. They will never forget that.”

The title rings in his ears. Il Predestinato. The Chosen One. It always sounded so heavy, a burden he could never quite shake. And now, he wonders if it was ever truly his to bear.

A sudden commotion pulls his attention back to the crowd. The sea of red parts for a moment as a car rolls slowly through. Charles recognizes it immediately — a Ferrari, sleek and dark, the hearse that will carry his body through the streets of Maranello. It’s draped in the Italian flag, and atop it sits his helmet, the red and white standing stark against the backdrop of mourning.

The Tifosi bow their heads, some reaching out as if trying to touch the car, as if touching it will bring them closer to him. The car stops in front of the factory, and Charles watches, numb, as his casket is pulled out, carried by men he’s known for years. Faces he recognizes, but that seem distant now, like shadows from another life.

“They’re broken,” Charles whispers, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this.”

You don’t respond immediately, just watching the procession with the same stillness you always carry. Finally, you speak, your voice low and quiet. “Sacrifice always leaves something behind. Even if it’s pain.”

Charles inhales sharply, though the air doesn’t fill his lungs the way it used to. He’s not sure how to process what he’s seeing, what he’s feeling. There’s a weight in his chest, heavy and suffocating. It’s not like the fear he felt in those final moments before the crash, but something deeper. Something that feels permanent.

The casket reaches the steps of the Ferrari factory, where the company’s executives, drivers, and engineers are gathered. They stand in silence, heads bowed, their faces etched with sorrow. Charles feels a pang of guilt, sharper than he expected.

“Was it worth it?” His voice is barely a whisper, almost lost in the overwhelming noise of the crowd.

You turn to him, your expression unreadable. “That’s not for me to decide.”

He clenches his fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But I gave everything! I died for this!” He gestures toward the casket, the crowd, the broken faces of his friends and family. “I sacrificed everything for Ferrari. For the Tifosi.”

You meet his gaze, unwavering. “And now, you have to decide if that sacrifice was worth it.”

Charles looks away, his heart — or whatever’s left of it — aching. He doesn’t know the answer. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

As the casket is carried up the steps, a priest steps forward. Charles recognizes him immediately. The Pope. The sight would almost be surreal if it weren’t for the gravity of the moment. The leader of the Catholic Church, come to bless his body, to give him the final rites. It’s more than Charles ever expected, more than he ever thought possible.

The Pope raises his hand, his voice carrying over the crowd in solemn Latin, offering a prayer for Charles’ soul. The crowd is silent now, the only sound the soft rustle of flags in the wind and the distant sobs of those too broken to hold back their grief.

Charles watches, his chest tight with emotion he can’t quite name. “Will they remember me?” His voice is small, almost childlike in its vulnerability.

You don’t hesitate. “They will never forget you. The Tifosi will name their children after you. They will pray for you, mourn for you, even as they themselves fade. Your name will live on, even when their names turn to dust.”

He blinks, trying to process your words. It’s everything he ever wanted, everything he worked for. To be remembered. To be loved. To be immortal in the eyes of those who mattered most to him.

“But will it be enough?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper. “Will it ever be enough?”

You turn to him, your gaze softening just slightly. “That’s something only you can answer.”

Charles looks back at the crowd, at the faces of the people who loved him, who believed in him, who now grieve for him. He doesn’t know the answer yet. Maybe he never will. But for now, all he can do is watch as the people of Italy — his people — mourn the loss of their hero, their champion, their Il Predestinato.

And perhaps, in their grief, in their endless love for him, he will find the answer he’s looking for.

As the Pope finishes his prayer, the crowd begins to chant.

“Forza, Charles! Forza Ferrari!“

The sound rises, a wave of devotion and heartbreak that crashes over the streets of Maranello. Charles listens, his heart aching with a mixture of pride and sorrow.

He is gone. But his name, his legacy, will live on forever.

And maybe — just maybe — that’s enough.

***

The afterlife is nothing like Charles imagined.

For one, it isn’t dark. There are no flames licking at the sky, no eerie fog swirling at his feet. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel either. Instead, there’s an odd stillness, like time has stopped moving but everything else remains in place. It’s hard to describe, really — neither peaceful nor unsettling, just … different.

He’s not sure how long he’s been here. Time doesn’t seem to exist in the way it used to. Days blend into one another, or maybe there are no days at all. Just moments strung together in an endless loop.

The one constant in this strange new reality is you.

You’re always close by, never too far, but never imposing. It’s a strange sort of companionship, one that Charles hadn’t expected to find in death. He watches you sometimes, your presence steady, your movements fluid and quiet. You’re not like anyone he’s ever met. And it’s no wonder — how could you be? You’re death.

But there’s something else about you, something he can’t quite put into words. You’re not cold or distant, despite the weight of your title. There’s a kind of sadness that clings to you, something that pulls him in even when he tries to resist it.

He’s sitting beside you now, his back against an old stone wall, looking out into the expanse of … wherever this place is. It’s quiet, as always, the only sound the faint rustling of something distant. Neither of you speak, but the silence between you is comfortable, not awkward.

After a while, Charles breaks it.

“Do you ever get lonely?”

Your head tilts slightly, as if the question surprises you. You don’t answer right away, and for a moment, Charles thinks you won’t. But then you shift, your eyes focused on some point in the distance, and your voice, when it comes, is soft.

“I suppose I do.”

It’s not what he expected you to say. He always thought of you as solitary, but not necessarily lonely. You were death, after all. You weren’t meant to have attachments, were you?

“How could you?” He asks, genuinely curious. “You’re … you. Death doesn’t get lonely.”

You let out a soft sigh, one that’s more resigned than sad. “Death doesn’t exactly allow for much companionship.” You glance at him, your eyes steady. “Most souls don’t stick around for very long. They move on. They’re not meant to linger.”

Charles absorbs your words, turning them over in his mind. It’s true — he’s the only one here, the only soul who hasn’t moved on. But the idea that you might be lonely, after all this time, unsettles him in a way he can’t explain.

“Do you know why I haven’t moved on?” He asks, his voice quiet.

You shake your head, your expression soft but unreadable. “No. I don’t understand it.”

He leans back against the wall, his mind racing. Why hasn’t he moved on? There’s no reason to stay, no unfinished business, no regrets strong enough to tether him to this place. And yet … he’s still here. With you.

You shift slightly beside him, your gaze drifting out into the distance again. “I’ve never had anyone stay this long,” you say, almost to yourself. “Most souls are eager to move on. They want peace, or closure, or something more.”

Charles frowns, looking over at you. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want them to stay?”

You pause, considering the question. “No,” you say eventually. “That’s not how it works. They’re not meant to stay. Neither am I.”

“But you get lonely.”

Your lips press together, and for a moment, Charles thinks he might have pushed too far. But then you nod, just once. “Yes.”

There’s something in your voice, something quiet and raw, that tugs at something deep inside him. He doesn’t understand why, but it matters to him. Your loneliness matters to him.

“Is that why you’re still here?” You ask, turning the question back on him. “Because of me?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come. He’s not sure. Maybe it is. Or maybe there’s something else at play, something neither of you understands.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But I don’t think I’m ready to leave.”

You look at him then, really look at him, and there’s a softness in your gaze that catches him off guard. He realizes in that moment how much time you’ve spent alone. You, the embodiment of death, the one who has seen everything end but never experienced the simplicity of someone choosing to stay.

He leans forward, his voice quieter now. “Have you ever-”

He hesitates, the question hanging in the air between you.

“What?” You prompt, your voice gentle.

“Have you ever … I don’t know. Experienced anything like this?” He gestures between the two of you. “With anyone else?”

You shake your head, almost sadly. “No. Death doesn’t leave room for that.”

Charles watches you for a moment, his mind spinning with the weight of it all. It seems so unfair, that you should be condemned to an eternity of loneliness, of watching others move on while you remain.

“Everyone deserves at least one thing,” he says softly, almost to himself.

You tilt your head, confused. “What do you mean?”

He swallows hard, his gaze locking onto yours. “Everyone deserves to experience their first kiss.”

Your breath catches ever so slightly, your eyes widening just a fraction. “Charles …”

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “You should have that. You deserve it.”

You don’t respond, but your eyes search his, and for the first time since he met you, he sees something flicker there. Uncertainty. Vulnerability.

He leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want to. But you don’t. You stay still, watching him, waiting.

And then, gently, Charles presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft, barely more than a whisper of a touch, but it’s enough. Enough to make the world tilt on its axis for a moment, enough to make the weight of everything around you both fall away.

You don’t pull back immediately. Neither does he. For a few seconds, it’s just the two of you, suspended in the stillness of the afterlife, sharing something fragile and beautiful.

When he finally does pull away, your eyes are still closed, your lips parted ever so slightly. Charles watches you, his heart — or whatever it is that beats in his chest now — pounding in a way that feels almost human again.

You open your eyes slowly, blinking as if coming out of a dream.

“I-” You falter, your voice soft and uncertain. “Why did you …”

He smiles gently, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “Because I wanted to. And because you deserve it.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment, just looking at him as if trying to make sense of what just happened. But there’s a warmth in your gaze now, something that wasn’t there before. Something new.

“I don’t understand you, Charles,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He laughs quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. “I don’t understand myself, either.”

You stay like that for a while, in the stillness of the afterlife, the weight of the world no longer pressing down on either of you. There’s no rush, no need for answers right now.

For the first time, in a long time, neither of you feels alone.

***

Time is strange in the afterlife.

Charles doesn’t know how long he’s been here — whether it’s days, months, or even years. There’s no ticking clock, no sun moving across the sky. It’s just … still. He’s gotten used to the quiet, to your presence nearby, and to the sense that nothing is rushing forward like it used to.

But something shifts one day. You’re sitting beside him, as usual, but there’s a new energy in the air, something that tugs at the quietness and pulls at the stillness. You turn to him, your eyes meeting his with a softness that he can’t quite place.

“I have something to show you,” you say, your voice quiet but clear.

He blinks, confused. “What do you mean?”

You don’t explain. Instead, you stand, offering him your hand. He hesitates for a second, but then he takes it. There’s always been an unspoken trust between you — something that keeps him tethered to you, even in death.

The world shifts around him, the stillness breaking apart. For a moment, everything spins, the ground slipping from beneath his feet as if he’s falling — but it’s not unpleasant. It’s more like drifting. And then, as suddenly as it starts, it stops.

Charles finds himself standing in a hospital room.

His breath catches, his mind scrambling to make sense of where he is. The sterile smell of disinfectant clings to the air, and the beeping of machines fills the silence. He looks around, trying to orient himself, but nothing feels real.

“Where-”

You don’t answer his question directly. Instead, you nod toward the center of the room. “Look.”

Charles follows your gaze, and his heart — if he still had one — stumbles in his chest. His older brother, Lorenzo, stands by the bed, his face soft with emotion. He’s holding someone’s hand. Charlotte, his wife, is lying in the hospital bed, her expression tired but glowing. But it’s the small bundle she holds against her chest that steals Charles’ breath.

A baby.

It takes him a moment to fully process what he’s seeing. Lorenzo’s wife. His brother. And a baby.

Charles steps closer, his movements slow, almost cautious, as if he’s afraid the scene will shatter if he gets too close. He watches as Lorenzo reaches down to stroke the baby’s tiny head, his face filled with a tenderness that Charles hasn’t seen in years.

“Lorenzo?” Charles whispers, though he knows his brother can’t hear him. His eyes are fixed on the child in Charlotte’s arms, a strange sense of awe and disbelief washing over him.

You step beside him, your voice soft as you speak. “I wanted you to meet Charles Tolotta-Leclerc.”

He freezes.

“What?” His voice barely makes it past his lips, and he turns to look at you, his eyes wide, searching your face for any hint of a joke. But you’re serious.

You nod toward the baby again. “They named him after you.”

Charles stares at the tiny bundle, his mind struggling to catch up with what you’ve just said. They named the baby after him? His head spins, a strange mix of emotions swirling through him — shock, disbelief, and something that feels dangerously close to pride.

Before he can fully process it, Lorenzo’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“I miss him,” Lorenzo says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I wish he could be here. I wish he could’ve met him.”

Charlotte smiles up at him, though there’s a sadness in her eyes. “He would’ve loved him,” she says, her voice gentle. “He’ll be watching over him, I’m sure of it.”

Lorenzo’s expression tightens, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “I hope so,” he murmurs. “I hope he’s watching over us. Over Charlie.”

Charles stands frozen, his entire body — or soul, or whatever he is — going still. The weight of Lorenzo’s words crashes into him like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless. He watches as his brother’s eyes fill with unshed tears, and it breaks something inside him.

“I wanted him to be here,” Lorenzo says, his voice cracking. “I wanted him to be part of this, to see my son …”

Charles can’t take it anymore. He feels the pressure building inside of him, the ache in his chest growing unbearable. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes — not physical tears, but the kind that burn and sting nonetheless.

You’re beside him before he even realizes it, your presence calm and steady. You don’t say anything, but you don’t need to. He can feel your understanding, your quiet reassurance.

“I’m here,” he whispers, his voice trembling. “I’m watching.”

But no one can hear him.

Lorenzo’s voice cracks again as he continues. “I named him Charles because … I want him to be like you. I want him to grow up knowing who you were. What you stood for. And maybe … maybe he’ll feel like you’re with him, even if you can’t be.”

Charles presses a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the sob that threatens to escape. The emotions are too much — grief, pride, love, all tangled together in a way that feels like it’s tearing him apart.

He looks at the baby again, the tiny life cradled in Charlotte’s arms, and something breaks open inside him. He didn’t know it was possible to feel so much after death. He thought everything would fade away, that he wouldn’t have to feel the weight of the world anymore.

But watching his brother, watching this moment … it’s almost unbearable.

You step closer, your hand resting gently on his shoulder. “It’s okay to feel it,” you say softly. “It’s okay to cry.”

Charles lets out a shaky breath, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. “I-I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he admits, his voice barely audible. “I thought … I thought I was ready to move on.”

Your hand stays steady on his shoulder, grounding him. “You gave everything for glory,” you say gently. “For Ferrari. For the Tifosi. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to let go.”

Charles shakes his head, tears streaming down his face as he watches his brother, his nephew. “I don’t know if I can,” he chokes out. “I don’t know how to say goodbye.”

You don’t rush him. You let him stand there, watching, crying. He can feel your quiet strength beside him, your understanding. You’ve seen it all before, but for him, it’s new, raw, overwhelming.

Lorenzo leans down, pressing a kiss to his newborn son’s head. “He’s going to know all about you,” Lorenzo murmurs. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Charles can’t stop the sob that escapes him this time. He crumples forward, his hands covering his face as the grief finally spills over, uncontrollable. He feels like he’s breaking apart, like everything he’s held inside for so long is crashing down around him.

And then, you’re there. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, letting him cry into your shoulder. You don’t say anything, but your presence is enough. It’s steady, grounding, and for the first time since he’s been here, Charles feels like he isn’t alone in his grief.

He cries for a long time, the emotions pouring out of him in waves. He cries for the life he left behind, for the family he didn’t get to see again, for the child named after him who will never know him. And through it all, you stay with him, holding him, comforting him.

When the sobs finally subside, Charles pulls back slightly, wiping at his eyes. He feels raw, drained, but there’s a sense of release, too — like something heavy has been lifted from his chest.

“He’s going to be okay,” you say softly, your voice gentle. “Lorenzo will take care of him. He’ll grow up knowing who you were, what you meant.”

Charles nods, his throat too tight to speak. He looks back at the hospital bed, at Lorenzo and Charlotte, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of something like peace in his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You smile softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. “You don’t have to thank me.”

But he does. Because in this moment, he knows he couldn’t have faced this alone. Not without you.

Charles watches his brother one last time, his heart heavy but full. And though he knows he can never return to the life he once had, there’s a strange sense of comfort in knowing that a part of him still exists in the world — in the form of the tiny child cradled in Charlotte’s arms.

“I’ll watch over him,” Charles says softly, his voice steady now. “I promise.”

***

The air between you is different today. Charles can feel it before you even say a word. It's in the way your eyes linger on him a little longer, the way your silence stretches. You’ve been together for what feels like an eternity, yet time is meaningless here.

He looks at you, waiting for the explanation, the gentle unspooling of whatever truth you’re about to offer him.

Finally, you speak. “I think you’re ready.”

Charles frowns. “Ready for what?”

“To move on.”

The words hang in the air, heavier than he expected. His chest tightens, and he shakes his head, the instinctual reaction coming out almost before you finish speaking.

“I don’t want to move on.” His voice is sharp, edged with panic. He doesn’t fully understand what “moving on” means, but he knows it sounds final. It sounds like goodbye, and he’s not ready for that. Not now. Not after everything. Not after you.

You watch him quietly, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “Charles, you’ve already moved on in so many ways. This-” you gesture between the two of you, “-this isn’t goodbye.”

He stares at you, his mind racing. “Then what is it? You’re telling me I have to leave, but I can’t — I can’t leave you.”

You laugh softly, the sound rich with irony. “I’m death, Charles. You’re dead. Why would you have to leave me?”

The realization hits him, and his protest falters. His hands fall to his sides as he processes what you’re saying. You’re death, and he’s already passed beyond life. There’s no need to fear separation, because you are intertwined with whatever comes next.

“So, I’m not really going anywhere?” He asks, cautiously hopeful.

“Not in the way you think,” you assure him, your voice softening. “But this place — it isn’t where you belong anymore. There’s something else waiting for you.”

Charles exhales slowly, relief and uncertainty swirling in his chest. “Something else?”

You step closer, your hand reaching out to brush against his arm. “You’ve done everything you needed to do here. You’ve won. You’ve found peace with your family. Now … it’s time.”

He looks into your eyes, searching for something — reassurance, maybe. He’s been with you through all of this, and yet, the idea of leaving this limbo, this stillness, feels daunting.

You tilt your head slightly. “Trust me.”

He wants to. He does. But there’s a tightness in his throat, a reluctance that refuses to fade. “What if I don’t want to go?” He murmurs, almost to himself.

You give him a knowing look. “Charles, you’re not going anywhere that I can’t follow.”

Something in him eases at your words. He nods, but there’s still a lingering hesitation. His life — his death — has been defined by choices. Choices to race, to sacrifice, to push past every limit. Now, there’s nothing left to fight, no championship to chase. This is the last choice he’ll have to make, and the finality of it shakes him.

“Okay,” he says, his voice quieter than he expects.

You smile, your fingers wrapping around his hand. “Come with me.”

The stillness of limbo shatters. The world around them changes, the coldness and vast emptiness giving way to something warm and vibrant. Colors he hasn’t seen in years flood his vision — deep blues, rich greens, and the golden light of a sun he hasn’t felt in what seems like forever.

Charles blinks, trying to make sense of where he is. There’s no pain, no exhaustion, just … peace. He stands there for a moment, taking it in, but then, something — someone — catches his eye.

He freezes, his heart — or whatever’s left of it — stopping in his chest.

Jules.

Jules is standing just a few feet away, watching him with that same familiar smile. The smile Charles grew up with, the one that got him through the hardest days.

His breath catches, and before he can stop himself, he runs.

It’s instinctive, like muscle memory, like he’s a kid again chasing after his godfather. His feet carry him faster than he thought possible, and when he reaches Jules, he throws himself into his arms without hesitation.

The warmth of the embrace floods through him, and Charles buries his face in Jules’ shoulder, a sob catching in his throat. He clings to him like he’s afraid to let go, the weight of everything — of life, of death, of everything in between — finally crashing down on him.

“I missed you,” Charles chokes out, his voice thick with emotion.

Jules laughs softly, holding him tight. “I missed you too, mon caneton.”

It’s overwhelming, this feeling of reunion. The tears fall freely now, and Charles can’t stop them, doesn’t want to stop them. He’s never cried like this before, not even when he won, not even when he died. But now, in the arms of someone who meant so much to him, it feels like everything is breaking free.

He pulls back, wiping at his face, but before he can say anything else, another voice breaks through the haze.

“Charles.”

Charles turns, his breath catching again as his eyes land on his father. He’s standing there, just a few feet away, watching his son with eyes full of pride.

“Papa …” The word slips from his lips, almost a whisper.

And then he’s running again, straight into his father’s arms. He feels like a child, all over again, seeking comfort and love and everything he’s missed. Hervé holds him, strong and steady, and for the first time in years, Charles feels like he’s truly home.

“I’m so proud of you,” Hervé murmurs, his voice full of emotion. “You did everything you said you would.”

Charles pulls back, his hands gripping his father’s shoulders as he looks at him, tears still streaming down his face. “I did it, Papa. I won.”

“I know,” Hervé says softly, his eyes shining. “I always knew you would.”

Charles nods, his throat too tight to speak. The pride in his father’s eyes is everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s ever worked for.

But then, he turns.

You’re still standing there, watching quietly from a distance. Charles’ heart twists at the sight of you, at the thought of everything you’ve been through together. You’ve guided him, stayed with him, and now … now he understands.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with gratitude.

He steps forward, closing the distance between you, and when he reaches you, he doesn’t hesitate. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your skin as he leans in.

His lips meet yours, soft and gentle, and in that moment, everything else fades away. There’s no race, no championship, no death. Just the two of you, together, in this place beyond life and time.

When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, and he knows.

You smile at him, your eyes soft. “Glory was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Charles nods, his throat tight. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It was worth it.”

And somewhere, in the distance, the ticking starts again.

For someone else.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He knows what he has to do. The weight of it settles into his chest like a stone, cold and heavy, suffocating the brief warmth of your kiss. His hands tremble as they slip away from your face, his fingers lingering for just a second longer, as if he can’t quite let go.

But he has to.

His breath shudders, a ragged thing that cuts through the silence. His lips part, but no words come out. There’s nothing left to say. You see the understanding in his eyes — he knows the truth now, the path that’s been laid out in front of him since the moment he died.

He belongs with them.

With Jules. With his father.

Not with you.

He turns, slowly, his back to you now. And just like that, the warmth is gone. It’s like the sun has disappeared from the sky, leaving nothing but the cold, endless void.

You want to stop him, call out his name, reach for him, something, anything, but the words die in your throat. He doesn’t belong to you. He never did.

“Charles …” you whisper, though you know he can’t hear you anymore. He’s already too far away. Already slipping through your fingers like sand.

He walks toward them — Jules and Hervé — his pace steady, purposeful. The space between you grows wider with every step, a chasm opening up that you can never hope to cross.

Jules smiles at him, that same familiar smile, the one that Charles would have given anything to see again. And his father … God, the pride in Hervé’s eyes is almost too much to bear. It’s everything Charles ever wanted. Everything he fought for, died for.

But you …

You stand there, watching.

Helpless. Silent. Alone.

Charles doesn’t look back. Not once.

You knew he wouldn’t.

You knew this moment was coming from the second you saw him in Melbourne, when his time started ticking. You were never meant to keep him. You were just a part of his story — a brief chapter in the long, winding tale of his life and death.

And now, that chapter is closing.

The void stretches before them, a vast expanse of nothingness, and as Charles reaches the edge, Jules and Hervé step forward to greet him. They wrap their arms around him, pulling him into their embrace, and for a moment — just a moment — Charles is home.

He glances over his shoulder, but not at you. His eyes skim past you, unseeing.

“Thank you,” he whispers, but the words aren’t for you. They’re for the life he left behind. The glory. The fame. The endless pursuit of something more.

And then he steps into the void.

You feel it before you see it — the pull, the way the world shifts as he crosses the threshold. It’s like a part of the universe is being torn away, a piece of the puzzle you’ve held together for so long is finally gone. And you’re left behind, standing on the edge, watching as they fade into the distance.

The ticking stops.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re alone.

It’s funny, in a way. You’ve spent eons like this — watching souls come and go, guiding them from one world to the next. But with Charles, it was different. He stayed. He stayed longer than anyone else, long enough for you to feel something you weren’t supposed to feel.

Loneliness. Loss.

You told him you couldn’t be left behind, that death doesn’t experience separation, but that was a lie, wasn’t it?

Because now, as you stand there in the cold, empty void, watching the space where Charles once stood, you feel it — truly feel it — for the first time.

Heartbreak.

It’s a strange, hollow thing, the way it grips your chest, squeezes your lungs until you can’t breathe. You’ve seen it a thousand times, watched as humans crumbled under the weight of it, but this is different. This is personal.

This is yours.

He’s gone. He made his choice. And even though you knew it would end this way, it doesn’t make it any easier.

You take a step back, your feet moving of their own accord, retreating from the edge of the void. There’s no point in staying here. There’s nothing left to hold on to.

Charles is gone.

You close your eyes, trying to push down the ache in your chest, but it won’t go away. It lingers, sharp and raw, reminding you of what could have been, of the brief moments you shared that weren’t supposed to matter but now feel like everything.

For a second — just a second — you wish things had been different. That you could have kept him. That maybe, just maybe, you could have been something more than death. Something more than a shadow in the background of his life.

But that’s not who you are.

You open your eyes, the void still stretching out before you, endless and unforgiving.

Somewhere, far in the distance, the ticking starts for someone else. Another life, another death, another story to watch unfold.

But none of them will be Charles.

You’ll carry him with you, even if he never looks back. Even if he forgets your face. You’ll remember the way he smiled at you in the moments between life and death. You’ll remember the way his voice cracked when he thanked you.

And you’ll remember the way he kissed you, soft and brief, like a goodbye he couldn’t quite say.

You’ll remember it all.

And that, perhaps, is the cruelest part.

[euthymiya]

camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna

sukuna doesn’t appreciate how often his annoying little nephew comes over and takes up your time—until you share a few pictures of you and him to little yuuji. maybe the runt’s starting to grow on him

before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; mentions of itadori jin and kaori ; mentions of reader wearing heels and being carried by sukuna ; sukuna being a terrible influence to children (and being a softie on the low)

Sukuna doesn’t like children. They’re little troublemakers. They’re nuisances. They take up space and cause chaos. They whine. They cry and kick and scream. They don’t pay bills and eat away at your wallet. They’re clingy and talk a lot. They don’t have jobs and never contribute to the economy. The list goes on.

(You like to point out this mindset is just a byproduct of his upbringing, and that he should heal. He thinks that’s a load of bullshit. He grew up just fine. He doesn’t need to heal from anything—he’s just right. Kids are weird and unsettling).

Yuuji is no exception. The kid is an irritating spawn of his brother—they even have the same smile. Too happy, too nice, too talkative, and too bubbly. So what if Yuuji is his nephew? He doesn’t have to enjoy the runt’s company just because he’s family. (You like to really put emphasis on the family part).

And you’re persistent. You invite the little runt over every chance you get. You always agree to babysitting so his brother can have his date nights and spend quality time with that equally as annoying wife of his. (It’s Jin’s fault for not thinking things through. If he just kept it in his pants, he could easily find time to have dates and spend time with his lousy wife, but no. He decided to knock up the woman and make it Sukuna’s problem too).

It’s an eyesore to say the least to walk into his living room and see a small, useless child curled up in your lap, taking his place where he should be resting his head, and giggling to yourselves.

Irritating. Nauseating. So outright infuriating.

Sukuna hates kids.

“And that’s uncle ‘Kuna and me at the beach,” you grin, “see that castle? He helped me build it. Don’t tell him I told you that, though or he’ll eat me.”

“Woah,” Yuuji gasps, staring in awe at the photo in your phone. Sukuna’s eye twitches. You promised not to tell anyone he helped you build that stupid sand castle. He just wanted you to be quiet when you kept whining for his help. “Uncle ‘Kuna’s got big muscles!”

“Yeah, he does,” you nod, grinning. You swipe through a few more photos before stopping at another one. Yuuji’s eyes bulge even wider. “See? That’s him at the gym. Sometimes I go and watch him. Doesn’t he look so strong?”

“Uh huh,” the kid nods furiously. “He’s so cool,” he adds, voice laced in admiration.

Well, at least the runt has a brain. He definitely didn’t get it from his father, but it’s there. That’s a start.

“And that’s us on our first anniversary. See how sweet your uncle is? He’s carrying me to the car because my feet were hurting.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. He told you those shoes would hurt your feet, and then your whining would make it his problem. Evidently everyone he surrounds himself with likes to make things his issue to deal with. And he was right—you did end up whining about those damn heels. (They did make your legs look good, he’ll admit that much. But still, you didn’t need to go through the trouble of wearing them only to bugging him with your complaining. He finds your legs hot regardless of what shoes you wear).

“Uncle ‘Kuna’s so nice,” Yuuji nods, giggling before he looks up at you, poking a chubby finger into your cheek and says, “so pretty!”

“Aw Yuuji,” you grin, “aren’t you the sweetest little man?”

You lean in and press an attack of kisses to the brat’s cheeks. Sukuna crosses his arms and glares at the way the runt laughs in glee at your affection. Who does he think he is, feeling your lips on his skin?

Once you settle down, you pull him flush against your chest again, back pressed to you as an arm wraps around his tiny frame, holding him close.

“Look, this is when we went on our first vacation! See how your uncle likes to sleep on my chest? He says he hates cuddling but he’s a liar.”

“Lies are bad!” Yuuji gasps, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod seriously, “super bad. You’ll always tell the truth right Yuuji? Don’t be like your mean uncle, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, nodding like he means it.

If it was up to him, Sukuna would grab the kid off your lap and set him out on the streets to find his own way home. How dare the brat sit on his couch with his girlfriend and act holier than him?

And it’s not a lie. Sukuna thinks cuddling is stupid. Using your chest is a pillow isn’t cuddling, it’s getting comfortable. You’re the liar.

“And see this one? That’s us having a picnic. You know your uncle ‘Kuna surprised me with that? He can be really sweet, y’know. He just likes to pretend he’s all tough.”

Yuuji giggles again—and then his eyes land on Sukuna at the entrance of the living room, brightening at the sight of him.

Great. He’s been spotted. Just want Sukuna needed after a long day of work. More annoying people.

“It’s uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points his pudgy little finger at him before waving a tiny hand. “You’re back!”

“And you’re still here,” Sukuna’s eyes narrow, “why?”

“That’s no way to greet your nephew, Sukuna,” you scold, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.

He trudges over, (carefully) pushing Yuuji to scoot over on your lap so he can lay his head where it rightfully belongs on your legs and settle on the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes as your fingers gently weave through his hair.

“Had a long day at work, I don’t need this brat still taking up my space. Tell ‘im to pay bills if he wants to stay so bad.”

“Oh c’mon, he’s been waiting for you all day,” you grin, “haven’t you Yuuji?”

“Uh huh!” The runt nods, leaning down to hover over Sukuna’s face. He opens an eye, peering up at the kid as Yuuji pokes a finger at his cheek. “Wanna play?”

“No,” he grumbles, pretending to bite at the finger.

Yuuji shrieks, pulling it away quickly and earning a low chuckle from Sukuna while you glare.

“Hey!” You scold, “you be nice to—”

“Again! Again!” Yuuji laughs brightly, holding a finger to hover over Sukuna’s lips. You blink and so does he, staring at the child before Sukuna’s lips curl into a small, smug grin.

“If you say so, ya runt.”

He snaps at the tiny finger Yuuji holds over his lips again, this time getting in a (gentle) nibble that makes the child squeal and laugh brightly.

“Uncle ‘Kuna’s gonna eat me,” he laughs.

“S’right, I’ll eat ya like you’re dinner. So quit comin’ over, you wretched brat.”

Yuuji, as innocent and hopeful as a little child is supposed to be, takes Sukuna’s smirk as a sign his uncle is happy to play. So he crawls off your lap, plopping himself to sit on Sukuna’s chest and smile happily down at him while you coo at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, he’s too cute! Sukuna don’t even think about moving—I’m getting a picture. Jin will love it!”

“Don’t take a fuckin’ pic—”

“Do not curse in front of a child!” You follow your scolding with a smack at his head, making him grunt angrily.

“I swear if you get a damn photo of—”

Click.

The sound of your phone’s camera going off cuts him off, silencing him with a wicked glare he sends up at you from your lap. It’s not so menacing when you take in the fact that his hand has securely planted itself at the base of Yuuji’s back, keeping him from falling over.

Sukuna hates children—he reminds you of this fact constantly. He has a soft spot for his little nephew, though. You don’t point it out so he can keep his facade up for his sense of dignity, but you know the facts.

Yuuji’s favorite snacks are stocked up in the cabinets for his arrival today—and you certainly haven’t had a chance to grocery shop this week. A small, tiny little inkling tells you that your boyfriend is developing something of a soft spot for his nephew.

“Look Yuuji,” you grin at the small child, ruffling his hair as you turn your phone to face him, “it’s you and uncle ‘Kuna! Your very own picture together! Isn’t that nice?”

“Yay!” He claps, eyes crinkling excitedly as he smiles happily at the picture.

Sukuna’s eyes soften just a bit before he’s back to frowning, a grumpy crease of his forehead as he huffs.

“I’m sick of this darn brat.”

————— bonus —————

“Fuck!” Yuuji says as he drops his sippy cup.

Sukuna freezes, eyes quickly darting over to you from the sink where he’s washing the dishes. You stop, stilling where you’re clearing the table. Your hand pauses mid air from its path to pick up glass, head slowly turning to look over at the child.

“Yuuji,” you say slowly, “where did you learn that word?”

He better not—Sukuna stares holes into the kid’s head. The runt better not rat him out or he really will eat him. Maybe even do worse. He’d better keep his annoying little mouth shut before—

“Uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points to Sukuna, as if he wants the man to die.

Your eyes instantly glare over at him. Sukuna tenses, clenching his jaw as he shoots a dirty look at his nephew.

“You damn snitch! They ought to teach you about tattling at that fancy day care of yours—”

“Quit yelling at him for your doing! Just you wait till he’s home,” you glower, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Sukuna scowls, returning to washing the dishes with a sulky frown on his face as you bend down and gather Yuuji into your arms.

“Is that awful man being a bad influence on you?” You coo, “he is, isn’t he? Don’t worry, I’ll teach that terrible uncle of yours a lesson, okay? But don’t use that word, Yuuji. Only non self respecting people use that language.”

Yuuji doesn’t even understand what that means, he wants to say. He holds his tongue, though, just to save himself from even a little of your wrath—but the runt is never welcome back to his home again, Sukuna thinks, grumbling to himself under his breath as you offer Yuuji the last of his ice cream.

High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Can you imagine cat!reader getting fed up with TF141 shenanigans and going to hide in the walls.

The boys don't know until somebody bangs their foot against the doorframe and they hear a random hiss in the wall

Cue panic perhaps and cat!reader either being yanked out via hole in wall or her just appearing somewhere nearby (and she won't fess up on how she got in)

Jokes on you, bud, cause she's been in the walls

But more on that--

The boys are going about their day when they realize it's been oddly quiet. Even though you like your space, they come across you at least four or five times while doing chores around the farm, either out of the corner of their eye or because you're hungry and ready to go inside. That being said, they haven't seen you at all today, save for in the morning when they first let you out for mousing duties. Since then, they haven't heard a peep.

Of course, it gets Gaz worried. He was the first to ask after you when you first got sick, and the same goes for now. And Ghost is equally eager to find out where you are.

"Haven't heard 'er bell," is all Ghost says, shrugging. "Either she's sick again or she's in trouble. No good outcomes."

"An' I doubt she ran off," Soap adds. "Been warming up to us, that one."

"And warming up to the food," Price sighs, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck. "Alright, then. Let's go find our cat."

What ensues for the next half hour or so is a repeated call. They haven't exactly settled on a name for you yet--or know if you have one in the first place--so it's just all of then continuously going "Here, kitty, kitty! Pspsps." Except Ghost, of course, because he's too gruff for that. Doesn't mean he's not listening for you, though.

When they do find you, it's because of a few muffled meows and the faint jingle of your bell behind a wall. A wall. Soap panics as he presses his ear to the wood, hearing your almost too relaxed cries from the area behind the loveseat.

"Tha's it. I'm gettin' the sledgehammer," he decides abruptly, practically jumping to his feet. But Ghost just shakes his head, pushes the furniture aside, and throws his whole ass fist through the wall. Even Price watches, stunned. The Lieutenant hadn't flinched--not even at the blood now staining his fingers.

Seconds later, you're popping your fuzzy head out to peer at them, a mouse caught in your teeth.

"... And I thought Soap was bein' dramatic," Gaz mutters, picking you up to put you to bed.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

Ghost moves the loveseat back into place, and when he does, notices the open vent in the wall that had been left without a grate. Price is right next to him, and they make eye contact. Cue tired dad sigh.

"You're fixin' both of these."

"Yes, sir."

[sleyu]

no thoughts just mean!bf remus mocking your cries n whimpers as he fucks into you n tells you how desperate you are for him

i genuinely needed to sit down and stare at my phone for a good two minutes to process this i am going crazy.

he would be so, so, so mean. the gag is that he’s the one who initiates everything and is, in fact, equally if not more desperate. but, mean ! remus loves ignoring this and instead, mocks you for your every cry and whine.

remus’ cock is so big, both in length and width. every time he’s inside you, it feels like the first time all over again because his size is just so overwhelming. remus sometimes feels bad for doing this, but his cock throbs at the sight of you struggling to take him and he often loses self-control and meanly laughs in your face when you cry out at the feeling of him suddenly pushing into you. every time you would tell him to slow down, he’d only go faster, laughing breathlessly at your whines and the tears on your cheeks.

‘telling me to stop but i’m sure you like this, don’t you, baby? cunt’s so fuckin’ wet.’

‘does it hurt, dove? thought you said you could take me?’

just imagine remus calling you his fussy little baby; every time you paw at his thighs, attempting to tell him that you need him while he’s studying, he’d just sigh in annoyance and bend you over his desk to fuck you stupid :( i don’t know if remus would slap you or not, but he would definitely tug your hair to force you to look up at him every time he takes you from behind !

‘is that what you needed, hm? all you fuckin’ think about is getting filled up—is this what my baby needed? such a fuckin’ brat, no patience at all.’

he genuinely has to control himself from busting inside you at the sight of your wobbly lips and furrowed eyebrows, paired with your teary eyes and the quiet mewls coming out from your mouth. you just look so fucked out and cute, he has to resist leaning down and peppering kisses all over your face.

i know this is a little unhinged but all i’ve been thinking about is remus fucking you in your childhood bedroom and calling you gross and disgusting for enjoying it when he ruins you as your parents are downstairs.

‘fuck—imagine what they’d say when they see their little girl slutting herself out like this. i’ve completely ruined you, haven’t i? no longer their innocent baby, are you, honey?’ BRRRRR i need psychiatric help.

[xazse]

Pls breeding with hybrid Gojo. You can chose whatever, I just need to see this 😭😭🙏🏼 where Suguru leaves them and thinks all will be good and they’ll behave only to find out months later ups, there’s a baby!

Warnings. Breeding + Puppyhybrid!Satoru x PuppyHybrid!Reader + fem!reader + pregnancy + not proofread + (I don’t know how to write for babies 😭) dunno if I like the ending it feels kinda sad? Lmk and I’ll revise it.

“Toru, Toru you can’t…”

“Please just this once, feels’ really good doesn’t it?”

“Suguru will get mad”

Here Satoru was balls deep inside of you begging to take the condom off, he hadn’t ever asked before so why is he so curious right now? The little snake chose the perfect time to ask when you’re so vulnerable, under him taking his thick cock and he’s facing you and you’re a sucker for Satoru’s sweet pout.

“Suguru isn’t here, he won’t know promise.”

“Satoru-“ He starts decorating your faces with kisses and whimpering how badly he wants to really feel you. The way he’s biting your neck is making you lose all sense of responsibility.

“Okay Toru but just this once, never again.”

He wastes no time in removing the condom and lining himself up with your weeping hole again, his tip pushes past again and god does it feel so damn good when he’s fully inside of you, you can feel every ridge and every vein of his thick cock.

Satoru doesn’t fair any better four strokes later and the hybrid is spilling inside you, it’s not a weird feeling either, it felt right? It feels really good.

That one time turns into many times during that same week, Satoru pumping you full with his cum over and over, you can’t say no because you like it just as much as he does.

Right now Suguru can do nothing but stare ahead at you in the hospital bed and Satoru on your side: holding a little baby.

He can’t do anything but stare at the little baby in your arms with Satoru’s white colored hair and your matching eyes, he stares at an exhausted you cuddling the little thing up to your face and showing the baby off to all the nurses in the room.

Suguru is going goddamn insane in his mind. he’s remaining calm as to not ruin the atmosphere, he’s trying his hardest not to yell at you and Satoru for something he made sure was perventable.

The baby is a girl you both decided to name “Aya” Suguru wont say it out loud but Aya is an adorable cutie, she has her little ears and an equally small tail that matches yours.

A few days later you’re discharged, he knows you and Satoru can now feel how heavy the air is, the drive home is quiet save for Aya’s light snoring.

“Suguru-“

“How exactly and where are we meant to put her?”

You and Satoru go silent as he goes on his smidge

“I can’t believe-“ he can’t even finish his sentence he’s so appalled at the audacity, he feels like a disappointed father right now and you’re both around the same age as him! How is that possible?!

You both look way different than you did at the hospital right now, wearing a sorrowful expression that differs from the bright smiles you had because of the birth of your daughter.

It’s too late to go back in time so Suguru has to suck it up and help with parenthood.

[revasserium]

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

[foxtrot91]

Dedicated Ally

Buck pants as Tommy rolls off of him, flopping down next to him with his own, equally heavy breaths.

“Fuck,” Buck grunts, grinning as he reaches over to Tommy, smoothing his hand over a muscular chest.

“Mmhm.” Tommy turns onto his side towards him, nose scrunching as a smile stretches across his face. Buck loves that smile, noticed it the day they met, thinks that smile might be the reason he went fucking insane trying to get this man’s attention.

Unable to resist, Buck leans in for a kiss. It’s chaste, considering the mind blowing sex they’ve just had. But sometimes those are his favourite, Buck thinks; a simple, easy meeting of lips, a kiss just to kiss, no expectations for more, just a way to stay close even after being as close as two people can possibly be.

Buck whines in protest when Tommy pulls away, hearing a huff of amusement in response before he’s being tugged into the other man’s arms. He’s pulled and arranged until his head is resting on Tommy’s strong chest and okay, Buck thinks, if they’re not kissing then this is the next best thing.

It’s not long before he’s drifting, not asleep but also not-not asleep. Just hovering in that quiet, pleasant space in-between. He’s warm, happy, satisfied, and Buck has the vague, faraway thought that he could lay here forever.

At least until Tommy’s chest starts shaking with barely suppressed laughter, which—

What the fuck?

Lifting his head, Buck gives Tommy a quizzical look, not sure what exactly is so funny.

“Sor-sorry,” Tommy coughs, waving a hand as laughter bubbles up to the surface now.

Buck runs through the last couple hours or so in his head, trying to figure out what’s so funny.

They’d had dinner, nothing new there. Buck had put on that new nature documentary that he’d been wanting to watch except that Tommy had been way too distracting and they’d ended up making out like teenagers instead.

That had been followed up with some truly spectacular foreplay — and Buck really needs to find out how Tommy does that thing with his tongue like yesterday, it was inspired, truly, before Tommy fucked Buck into the mattress like his goddamn life depended on it.

So, all in all, a really solid night. Nothing that should have Tommy bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“What is it?” He asks finally, giving up trying to figure it out on his own.

It’s a moment before Tommy answers, has to visibly force himself to stop laughing. Seeing the look on Buck’s face must help because he sobers pretty quickly before pulling Buck in for a light kiss and settled them both on their sides, facing each other.

“It’s nothing bad,” he starts, rubbing up and down Buck’s arms. “I was just thinking… remembering, really.”

He’s smirking now, a mischievous look in his eye. Buck’s about to ask what it is he was remembering but just as he opens his mouth, Tommy continues.

“You know, Evan, I never did thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“Yeah, for being such a good, dedicated, passionate ally.”

Buck groans as he suddenly remembers their first date, a little over six months ago now. He goes to lean back as he covers his face but Tommy pulls him back, chest shaking with mirth.

“Really, ten out of ten, no complaints. A must have for every gay man out there.”

“Fuck off,” Buck grumps, but doesn’t resist when Tommy suckers him in for another kiss. They’re both smiling too wide — Tommy, from laughter, Buck from embarrassment, so it’s not much more than a light press of lips.

“Would’ve bagged me an ally sooner if I’d known how dedicated they’d be in their… allyship,” Tommy murmurs, pressing another kiss to his brow, right over his birthmark.

Pressing Tommy back into the mattress, Buck hides his face in the crook of the other man’s neck, face warm as he shakes his head.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Tommy says, stroking his hair. “As terrible as that date was, you were adorable even in your obliviousness.”

Buck smiles, warmth blossoming in his chest. He’s not sure why, but every time Tommy tells him he’s adorable it’s like his heart feels too big for his chest, like it doesn’t know how to handle all of this love and affection it’s being fed and is set to burst.

“You know, it wasn’t easy walking away that night,” Tommy says, pressing his soft lips to the top of his head. “But you didn’t seem ready. And maybe a bit selfishly, I knew that if I was going to have you that I wanted all of you, not just bits and pieces doled out in the dark where no one could see.”

They haven’t actually talked about that first date like this before, not really. They’ve acknowledged it, certainly, but they’ve never deconstructed it in any depth like they are now.

“I’m glad you walked away that night,” Buck says honestly. “I was an ass— no, I was, and you walking away helped me realize what I wanted in a way that I hadn’t really been willing to before.”

Tommy hums, fingers trailing along the back of his neck, tracing random patterns.

“You certainly came to terms with it a lot quicker than I expected. A lot quicker than I did,” Tommy comments, referring to what Chim often refers to as his sexuality crisis speedrun after hearing the full story of how they got together.

“I had a really great incentive,” Buck says, grinning up at Tommy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ETA: Now on AO3 with some additions:

AO3

[ellecdc]

i have a small idea! (this totes bounced off that one poly!marauders pregnancy post)

sirius would absolutely find comfort laying on readers belly later on in her pregnancy animagus style🐾

I loved this! you must've read my mind; yesterday I was considering sending out a request for any pregnant!reader or dad!marauders prompts!

poly!marauders x pregnant!reader who Padfoot is obsessed with [1.4k words]

CW: fem afab!reader, pregnancy, discourse regarding shower temperatures

“Wait, so, explain to me why you can’t both just take a shower together?” Remus asked as he followed Sirius and James into the flat, the two boys having argued nearly the whole way home from the shops over who was going to get to shower first.

Sirius made a derisive scoffing sound as if Remus had asked something particularly ridiculous. 

“Remus.” He muttered like he was talking to a troublesome toddler. “My hair and skin are only as beautiful as they are because I don’t scald myself under water heated by hellfire.” 

“My showers are not that hot, Pads.” James argued, though Remus could hear the smile in his voice. 

“My gods.” Sirius breathed out. “It’s starting to affect your brain cells too.” 

James made an offended sound and swatted at Sirius. “Fine, out with you then; go take your freezing shower, but don’t come looking for me for cuddles when you can’t stop shivering.” 

“I’d sooner find Moons for warm cuddles.” Sirius responded haughtily. “Those werewolf genes keep him nice and warm.”

Remus hummed in acknowledgement. “Dove may just have me beat there soon.” 

All three boys took a moment to sigh lovingly at the thought of you; growing and stretching and likely more than a little uncomfortable but doing it so gracefully nonetheless. 

“Sirius if you’re just going to sit here with hearts in your eyes…” James started, though he didn’t need to finish his threat when Sirius turned and took off in the direction of the shower.

“You do come out of the shower a little pink, love.” Remus murmured into the side of James’ face once he knew Sirius was out of earshot. 

James scoffed but leaned into Remus’ embrace. “How does he know that hot showers aren’t how I get my hair and skin so beautiful?” 

“Fair enough.” Remus laughed before he moved to put the groceries away. “But I don’t want Y/N getting into any showers with you; we don’t want her blood pressure rising.” 

James hummed in agreement. “But you may have to tell her that; her showers are equally steamy.” 

“Okay,” Remus agreed, “family meeting tonight about appropriate shower temperatures.” 

The two worked through the kitchen in relative silence before James slowed in his movements; dark brows furrowing behind his wire frames. “Speaking of showers, I don’t hear one running.” 

“Did he seriously fight you for dibs over the shower and then not get into the shower?” Remus laughed, causing James to stalk down the hall muttering something under his breath along the lines of “stupid no good sodding handsome boyfriend, going to be the death of me”. 

Remus waited for the inevitable yelp when James startled Sirius from behind, digging his fingers into his ribs in punishment.

He waited for the two of them to start trading insults - far louder than necessary - that quickly divulged into heated kisses where they pressed each other up against various solid surfaces.

Except no yelps, no tickles, no insults, and no passion could be heard.

In fact, it was quiet…too quiet. 

“Is there some weird portal in the flat that my partners keep disappearing through or something?” Remus called as he moved in the direction of the bedroom. “And where’s dovey?” 

But the answer only came when Remus rounded the corner into their bedroom - nearly colliding with James who had paused just inside the doorway - to find you asleep, curled up on your side in bed with a placid looking Padfoot curled up behind you and his head resting on your waist; your ever growing bump (that you’ve insisted cannot possibly grow anymore) dutifully under his chin.

Remus made an affectionate tsking sound as he took in the sight. “Did you get distracted, Pads?” And the dog’s tail began thumping loudly against the bed, though Remus could tell Padfoot was working very hard to not move his body in any other way lest he disturb you. 

The three of you always joked that whatever Sacred 28 gene allowed Pureblood's to appear impassive, bored, and to expertly save face was absent in Sirius, who never bothered hiding a single one of his emotions; the way he was feeling always displayed loudly and proudly on his face, though he claimed that was by choice rather than design.

But for as expressive or closed off as Sirius could or couldn’t be, Padfoot didn’t have a poker face to save his life.  

An almost embarrassing coo left James’ lips as he made his way to the bed, kneeling carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not disturb you, before reaching over to place a hand on your bump.

Padfoot, for his part, snapped his jaw playfully at James, pretending to bite his wrist only to then lick his arm aggressively when James diverted his loving caress to the top of his head instead. 

“She’s been so tired lately.” James murmured to no one in particular once Padfoot seemed appeased and he moved his hand to push some hair back from your forehead. 

“You try building an entire new person from scratch.” Remus chuckled quietly, moving to stand behind James but pausing when Padfoot’s head shot up.

The canine stared down at your midsection with his ears standing straight up in the air before tilting his head comically at a nearly 90 degree angle.

James laughed, making a breathy ‘wha-’ sound when Padfoot’s head snapped in the other direction, snout still pointed dutifully at your stomach. 

The dog let out a quiet whimper and pressed his wet nose into your side, causing James to laugh and Remus to tsk chidingly at him for risking waking you up.

“Is he kicking, Pads?” James asked then, moving his hand to the now damp spot on your shirt from where Padfoot poked you so rudely as the dog’s tail thumped excitedly on the bed. 

“Please.” Remus scoffed playfully as he reached forward to place his hand next to James’. “Don’t you mean she?”

“They” you corrected suddenly - though your eyes remained closed - as your boyfriends (two human and one currently canine) hovered around your midsection “are lucky they’re so loved when they’re currently using my ribs as a kick drum.” Your breath hitching in time with James and Remus’ hands feeling a strong thump and Padfoot’s head tilting the other direction. 

“Awe, I’m sorry, angel.” James cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You should be.” You grumbled, though Remus could see the faint upturn in the corner of your lips. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” James shrilled. 

You hummed in agreement. “They were very well behaved before you showed up.”

“How do you know it’s not Moony’s fault?”

You cracked one eye open to look at Remus who simply winked at you. 

“Just do.” 

“Pads?” James tried then.

“If it was Sirius, I would say the chances were equal.” You admitted as you settled back into the pillow. “But baby is well behaved for Padfoot.” 

“Well…” James started, looking helplessly between his partners. “Well this is just not fair.”

You let out a groan and shoved your face into the pillow at the interruption of your nap when Remus finally took pity on you.

“Wasn’t someone supposed to be showering?” 

James looked over at Padfoot who simply stared back at him before letting out a long sigh and resting his head back down on your belly. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Looks like there’s been a change of plans, Jamie.” Remus translated. 

“Fine.” James grumbled, though Remus could tell his ire was only for show. “Do you wanna join me, Moons?” 

“I showered this morning.” Remus declined as he took James’ spot next to you on the bed.

“I’ll shower with you, Jamie.” You offered as you went to rise, pausing when all three boys protested. 

Well, James and Remus protested. Padfoot let out a bark. 

“You should rest, angel.”

“Leave Jamie to his hellfire showers.” Remus agreed. “I’ll run you a bath after dinner, how does that sound?” 

Apparently that sounded lovely, because you easily fell back into your pillows with a smile on your face, a dog resting its head on your stomach, and Remus rubbing his thumb lovingly against your temple.

[prael]

Red Wine - Karina & Natty

Aespa Karina x Kiss of Life Natty x M Reader smut

thanks to @capslocked & @passingnotions & @friskyriskywhisky

Masterlist word count: 9,957 Kofi

A new girl every week.

Not like you mind it. As long as Karina is having a good time, then that's enough for you. She meets them all at work, and they're all equally pretty.

Of course they are—it's part of the job.

It's just how Karina is—she has always been a fountain of charisma and that's part of what drew you to her—some call it rizz. So, you know all too well how these girls feel when Karina cranks up that natural charm and it leads to her inevitably inviting them over on a Friday evening, an offer they can’t refuse.

A girl's night in. That's what she always calls it—truth or not.

It's a funny thing to call it, given that you're always there. Not that any of them ever complain. You're there. That's okay. You'll join in the chat or stay out of the way—it's all very casual. Most of the time, it’s just that—casual.

Most of the time.

"And then I told him: 'Look, this dress is Dior, and it's worth a year of your rent. So if you think, even for a second, that it's going to end up on your bedroom floor after you buy me a couple of glasses of bottom-shelf whiskey then you can Johnnie-Walk-the-fuck-on-out-of-here because there are a thousand more ways I can spend my night than wasting time on you.'"

The two girls break out into some sort of intoxicated, riotous laughter. The girl with the story? They call her Natty, and she is the latest of Karina's new friends to visit. This one sporting almond skin, eyes with an inky rich hue, thick lips and a smug look on her face that could melt the paint right off the wall, or the clothes off any man.

She has one leg crossed over the other, sitting at an angle towards Karina. The slight canting of her head, the way her black hair cascades over a bare shoulder, all of it conspires together in order to fully reveal her neck line where the loose t-shirt drapes from shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, like any dude's got enough bank to buy himself to a night with you." Karina laughs again before taking a drink from her wine.

You are trying to watch the TV, vaguely—your favourite team is on and it's a bit of a ritual for you.

You will never even know we're here. That's what Karina told you. Yet you’ve spent the better part of the last hour listening to them. We’ll be quiet.

As if that's ever true.

They've been reeling off anecdotes all the while, and if you've learned one thing about Natty, it's that she has a lot to say, and a lot if it comes down to either the pleasures, profits, or travails of her career. The stories just keep coming. And each and every one is punctuated by that same laugh from Natty. You have never heard anything quite like it before, and it's that which keeps drawing your attention back to their end of the couch. Much like her voice, it's high pitched, a little nasally and utterly adorable.

Karina laughs along as well; more than a few times a drink threatens to spill onto the carpet because one of them has laughed a little too hard or bumped into one another. Now that would be a disaster: red wine and a white carpet.

"So I got this really nice pink one. It's really pretty, a little sexy, but it's so comfy too." Natty is talking but you don't have a clue what about and Karina, turned away from you, is nodding her head, the ponytail on the back of her head shaking a little as a result.

You don't need to see Karina to know how she looks—as beautiful as ever. That same sharp jaw, high cheekbones and lips glistening pink, hued darker by her drink of choice. Those eyes. It’s always her eyes that captivate.

Her beauty and grace are two things she truly does share with Natty. All the women that come over are all part of the same constellation. Stars in their own right, but Karina is a supernova—or something equally poetic.

Karina says something, but the voice is soft and muffled and lost to you among the animated exchange.

"There's also this blue one. But I don't wear it nearly as much as the others, but it cuts real low. Nearly shows my, you know..."

That lowered voice draws your gaze right over to them both as Natty leans in towards the woman next to her. A gesture and the shape of her voice, the lilt of her accent, makes it sound as if she is being discreet even though you can clearly hear every single word.

"...you know." Natty then tugs a little at her own shirt.

The two giggle again as if they're not grown-ass women; two women who have admittedly drunk quite a lot.

"He loves this one I have, it's part of a set, and I picked it up in Paris last month,” Karina says. “Black and lacy. Super expensive, but it's so worth it."

"That pair would look good in anything," Natty lets out that same laugh again, if a little softer this time, as if the mood shifted a little. You felt this coming all along. If you're honest, sometimes as soon as Karina walks through the door with a girl on her arm, there’s a certain vibe that hangs in the air that tells you it’s one of those nights.

You're stealing glances at the two of them, and it's Natty who's looking towards you, over Karina's shoulder. Your eyes are caught in this awkward collision. Natty holds the stare, her smile shifting subtly from innocent to devilish.

She's a stunner. Even from the angle where you're catching glimpses at her, a glance out of the corner of your eye, there is something seductive and hypnotising.

"He's a really lucky guy." She says to Karina, keeping her eyes fixed on you.

That is usually the cue, one you're very familiar with. A flirty little comment, maybe an innuendo, something meant to test the waters—see where the land lies, the rocks you can stand on before stepping any further out into the surf. It's how so many of your Friday evenings play out. You are just that—an object of curiosity and interest to Karina's friends, and you have to credit the sales pitch she must deliver about you.

"You're damn right," Karina replies with a chuckle as she tilts back the remainder of her drink.

"Do you think he would like mine?"

"Of course, he would. But if you want, I can be the judge." Karina takes Natty's almost empty glass and sets both down on the table. Her expression and attitude—lips and body language—communicate her invitation far more eloquently.

Karina is reaching over and Natty's meeting her hands with her own at the hem of her shirt. A teasing lift and you can already envision what she's about to show. See, Natty's a dancer—you know that much, and a good one at that. That kind of talent comes with the blessing of a body that turns heads. Your girlfriend knew that well too when she had invited her back home.

"Go on then."

The shirt lifts off Natty's skin, with the help of Karina’s hands running up the side of her body, exposing a pierced belly button. You try, very valiantly, to pretend not to be watching, but you can't help it. Natty raises her arms and lets Karina pull off the shirt fully revealing her in her lace bralette. It's pink, it's pretty and a little sexy—just how she described it.

"They really are nice, wow," Karina leans in close and for a moment you think she's going to start kissing Natty right then and there.

Natty doesn't say a thing. She lets the next moment happen, and with their bodies so close you can feel the anticipation, there’s an agonising pause, but, just a moment later, Karina is running a hand up along her belly, cupping a hand over one of her breasts.

"Really nice," Karina repeats the compliment.

And you're all in now. Fuck the TV. You can't peel your eyes away from whatever the hell your girlfriend is about to do.

"Thank you," the girl purrs as she arches her body to push herself against Karina's hand.

A flirtatious hand and those slender fingers of hers begin to move delicately over the fabric. It's a good touch. You've experienced first-hand all the wonderful things Karina can do with it. She touches how she dances—passionate and precise.

"What do you think?" Karina's finally acknowledging you over her shoulder—your official invite to the fun.

"Gorgeous," you mumble, and Natty's smiling like a minx as Karina continues in a way that you should probably be offended. Your girlfriend runs her hands down to the girl's waist, round to the small of her back, and then all the way back to where she starts again.

"Come, take a closer look. What do you think?" Natty follows her words with a wink and a flick of the hair.

"Fuck yes." You whisper under your breath.

"What was that?" Your girlfriend's smirking to herself as you rise from your seat.

"Yes." You take a step towards them both.

"Yes?" Natty repeats, one of her dark brows arching.

"He thinks you're fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Gets a little lost in the moment sometimes." Karina is leaning her head in close, one arm around the girl. She has a finger running up along Natty's slender back as she pulls at the clips holding her bra together. "Isn’t she perfect, babe?"

"Something like that," you confess. You're standing in front of the girls, looking down at the topless Natty, at Karina who's still snaking her hands around her. And Natty looks up at you, eyes wide, inviting, smouldering with passion. She really is something else.

She peers beneath those bangs of hers with a look that says: why don't you sit right here beside me?

"There we go," Karina says and there's suddenly some slack. The weight of her pair is taken by gravity and Natty catches them into folded arms. She sinks back into the couch. You take a step, and taking her lead, you sit by her side.

Karina reaches down, pats you on your leg, then turns back to face Natty. "You were saying you thought he was pretty cute too, weren't you, Natty?"

"Pretty cute, yes. Hot too. Moreso now that he’s up close." Natty says while Karina's got her hands on her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra between her delicate fingers. And then her bra is gone—the last semblance of her modesty lost along with it. Her small nipples jutting, stiffened with arousal, ready and waiting.

"God, he's practically drooling."

"That's hot," Karina comments as her lips descend onto Natty's shoulder and she starts laying kisses up and along her neck, trailing all the way to her ears.

"Sit behind her, babe, let her make it easier for you," Karina says. There is something entirely different and erotic in the way your girlfriend commands you. It’s so often like this, the dynamic, the guest and you are equals but Karina? Karina is a level above, the one in control and setting the pace.

You move yourself further onto the sofa and seat yourself back, then Natty slides over your lap. She takes her place, just as Karina wants, in front of you. The look in your lover's eye tells you exactly what to do, while her hands give Natty some hands-on guidance. Holding her shoulders, she’s placing Natty’s back against your chest. 

You lay your own touch on the starlet’s waist, coiling them around her body. Dragging them up towards her smooth tits causes her to respond with a shudder. You keep your touches slow, leisurely, tentative and exploratory, but with no lack of appreciation.

Natty refuses to shy and settles firmly into your body. Karina, meanwhile, sets herself in front of the two of you, resting her hands on Natty's knees. Your beautiful guest parts her legs a little as Karina slips her hands between them, urging her thighs to open wider. Wider until she has to lift her legs over yours.

"Is this okay with you?" Karina is looking up into Natty's face and the woman simply nods."How does she feel?" Karina's asking you now, placing her hands on the back of yours, guiding your touch over her breast into a rougher pace.

"Perfect." The word slips from your mouth, followed by a throaty groan. Among all of this, Natty's ass is against your crotch, the weight of her pushing your manhood to swell and strain against your clothing. You are thankful she's wearing a thin enough pair of yoga pants that enhances it all.

Karina has planted her knees between yours and Natty's legs. She's pulling her own shirt over her head and you already know what's beneath. For all the talk earlier about bras, Karina isn't wearing one; she never does. "Fuck, Karina," Natty coos at her bare chest. "He likes it too. I can feel him twitching."

Natty’s hands are all over Karina as she pulls her in. There’s grace, there’s tension and there’s a coy giggle from Karina as their lips are only inches apart. The hammering of your heart echoes within as you take a front-row seat to their show. It always triggers something inside you when she first lays lips on someone, it always heightens that delicious, tingling, primal feeling.

"Oh shit, girls..."

Your girlfriend's the best kisser and you love watching her like this—exploring another woman's mouth. Natty is matching her tempo beat by beat, kiss by kiss. Her body arches as you squeeze her breasts. You swear Natty's making little whimpers as the two make out.

Her body is all action against you: ass grinding back, rolling slowly and languidly as your hands pull at her breasts—squeezing them together and then apart. You dip into her neck with your mouth. The sweetness of her skin fills your mouth and the richness of her perfume fills your nose.

You lower your lips and gently nibble at her neck, dragging teeth over her flesh until she gasps from a gentle bite and you work your lips on her skin. Tongue roaming as you feast on her taste. Karina's pushing forward now, Natty sandwiched between you, their pairs of tits pressing together with your hands somewhere between.

They break, and Natty naturally moves to your girlfriend’s neck. Karina has her sights set on you, prying your mouth from Natty's shoulder and catching you in a deep kiss. Tongues battling, clashing. There's the familiar fading taste of red wine in her mouth, and the unmistakable flavour of something foreign to you, the lingering taste of Natty.

She pulls away from your lips, staring down the two of you. There's dissatisfaction on her face. "Why aren't the two of you naked yet?"

She pulls at Natty's hips, relieving your cock of the pressure of her sitting on it, and you hold Natty so as to not let her slip too far away. You and Karina work Natty's yoga pants, and her panties, from her hips. They slip effortlessly down to her ankles, leaving her decidedly bare.

No one speaks and you all know this isn't the time to explain anything or ask questions. When her clothing is out of the way Karina descends upon Natty again, kissing her hard and you catch the dying whimpers of Natty's moans into Karina's lips. Karina's hand is snaking down Natty's back, reaching for your crotch. She unbuckles and opens your belt all the time fighting against Natty's movement as she tries to grind her ass back into you.

"Stop moving." Karina giggles into their kiss as her hand delves beneath your trousers. She breaks her kiss again. "Need some help."

Natty's peeling herself away from you, turning to face you. Natty's naked, Karina's halfway there, you're the one slacking. Not for long. Soon the two are tugging away all the unnecessary clothes until all three of you are equally exposed. Your cock stands heavy and ready under their gaze.

"Woah, you weren't lying." Natty's figuratively licking her lips, hungry and wide-eyed, and you'd bet your last dollar she's got an idea in mind. "Can I...?" Natty turns to ask Karina.

"I'd hate to be selfish." Karina shrugs her shoulders and winks. You're transfixed. There's natural magic about the way they move as if it is rehearsed; the way Natty sinks to her knees and the way Karina pulls your hips to the edge of the seat, then rises above you.

Karina hovers and watches, Natty leans in, and then your balls disappear into her mouth. She’s handling them with her tongue expertly as she takes hold of your cock.

"God, what a pro. She wasn’t lying when she told me she knew her way around a cock," she exclaims, savouring every second as the air rapidly leaves your lungs.

It is beyond explanation, the way Natty's tongue is dancing along the underside of your balls as her lips caress each one. Her eyes occasionally flick up and flash mischievously—it's the kind of look that means she could get away with absolutely anything, and there is no way you are going to stop her.

"She's got the face for it, doesn't she? Like she just gives the most amazing head." Karina's on her knees by your side, sliding a hand between her thighs.

"Y-yeah." You manage to reply. "S-so... ahh! Good."

Karina leans forward, cupping one of your cheeks as she looks into your eyes.

"He's speechless!" She laughs, moving a hand to the back of your head and tugging gently at the strands. "Natty baby, give him a few words or something, will you? If you can?"

It's hard to look at her, but you crane your neck and you catch her looking at you again—one hand upon your inner thigh, the other wrapped around your shaft. "That's a good boy," Natty murmurs.

She teases a thumb over the surface of your glistening wet tip. "She loves that shit. Watch her..." Karina explains, smiling, the delight on her face all you can look at for a moment or more.

She guides your chin and you follow your girlfriend's direction, then you see, Natty's taken her mouth from you for a second and she's licking your pre-cum from her thumb; her gaze on the pair of you. She repeats her motion once more and the grin on her face grows bigger as you leak another pearl for her.

"How does he taste?" Karina asks for both of you.

"Delicious." Natty answers—now she's literally licking her lips.

You'll believe anything this woman tells you.

She's running a teasing tongue along the underside of your shaft, and as she reaches the peak, she catches the snow-white trickle you drip right there. You close your eyes in ecstasy, but before long, you’re feeling a finger poke against your lips.

You part them open, letting Karina's two fingers inside, and she's running her digits over your tongue as you suck her fingertips. The taste is so undoubtedly her, nectar straight from her source, your mouth salivating for more.

The feel of Natty's soft plump lips against the end of your cock is incredible as she moves them in an inch, teasing, testing, and then she withdraws just the same and you want to cry out. But you can't, Karina still lubricating her fingers, your tongue swirling around the digits.

She withdraws and your eyes open. And as much as you wanted to see Natty ready to settle her mouth around your cock, she's got something else in mind. She has her tits in her hand. "Are they still gorgeous?"

"Yeah, totally," you sputter.

"Natty girl, let him fuck them." Karina tells her and then she turns to you, mouth to your ear. "You want your cock between them, don't you? Tell her." Karina's not leaving this up to interpretation. "Tell her you want them."

"Oh yes..." you blurt out, without even really thinking. Karina giggles—it's her sign of approval, a tick. "Your tits, Natty. Fuck. Please."

It's not something you haven't done before. You love Karina's pair too, after all. It would be hard for anyone with a dick to resist a pair of round tits like hers. Luckily for you, tonight she's brought you a girl with a pair to match her own.

"He asked so nicely."

"He's a real gentleman," Natty teases and she raises her breasts a little, then pushes them together. As your head slides into her cleavage, she puts her hand around them, and as the skin squeezes the sides of your member, you are reduced to shuddering. Karina knows exactly how this gets you, knows just how this can bring you undone. It doesn't even matter if the actual thing feels nothing like sex—you'll always go crazy over a great pair of tits.

As the tip of your manhood peeks out through the crease between them, Natty lowers her tongue to it and you swear you nearly cum right then. Then the words echo inside your brain: he wants them, Karina's voice and as soon as she says it, your subconscious concedes to the reality.

"Look how easy and willing he is," she says to Karina and both girls giggle, then Natty forms a mock pout. "Such a good boy. I really want to make him feel good."

"He does deserve something." Your girlfriend runs her fingers into your hair as Natty plants a soft kiss onto your cock-head. Instinctively, you reach out but before you can touch anything, Karina's hand finds your wrist. "Tell her what you want."

She's leaning in closer again and Natty looks up from where she's teasing your tip, sucking, tonguing and lavishing affection and attention. "Ask Natty nice. Tell her you want a blowjob. Tell her you want to cum. Tell her what you want," Karina purrs her words.

And god, if anything makes it impossible to think straight, it is Natty's gaze up at you. She wants to make it easy for you, impossible to do anything but give in to your wishes, whether it’s her intention or your deep-seated desire making it seem so.

"Natty... can you suck my cock?" Your mouth's dry and the words grate in the throat.

"Anything," she says with a twinkle in her eye. And now it's all one motion. Her tits clamped against the sides of your length. Your cock drives between them and into Natty's waiting mouth. She's all tongue, bobbing her head a little and taking the tip of you in and out of her mouth.

Karina's all over you—kissing your neck, holding a hand behind your head, caressing, squeezing. "Aren't I just the best? Always doing this for you with all these girls." She's muttering away in your ear. The heat of her breath is constant and burning. She continues with sweet nothings in her deep, sultry voice.

You're sinking deeper into the couch, like you're laid on the shore and the tide is enveloping you. Wave after wave crashing against you, rolling, engulfing you and drawing you out further and further. Natty is pulling you under; every time she takes you into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around you, it's another wave over you. Karina is a life rope. You're grabbing onto the strands of her ponytail, trying to keep your head above the water. All her touches, her words, her encouragement, that's the air you need.

But the torrent grows ever more intense and powerful and the riptide is too great, Natty's drawing the last vestiges of resolve from you. You lose grip of everything—of reality.

You're lost.

Lost in her mouth, lost between her tits.

Karina knows it, she's seen it all before, so many times, for her and others. "Feel like you're gonna cum?" Karina's in your ear asking you the obvious.

Your answer's a growl.

"Cum!" It's a low-roar in your ear.

You don't say a word.

"All over those perfect fucking tits. Her mouth, her face, look at her," and then that's it. You're drowning in pleasure. Every sense abandons you—hearing, touch, and sight, all surrendered.

You can't think or do anything, because every fibre of your being is focused on a single action—pouring out cum. You're rigid and straining.

Your eyes regain focus and you see it all. All of it smearing her tits and just a little on her face, and then more streams erupt. Natty doesn't shy and she doesn't stop. She is milking you for every single drop.

And Karina's ever the encourager, ever full of pride. "Just like that, yes. Empty all of it right there on her chest."

This is her thing now. Has been for a while, ever since she convinced you to try it just one time. Her imagination was fueled by all those dirty little stories she read online about voyeurism and the like. It opened her eyes and redefined your relationship. It started with an experiment. With her best friend, Winter, all those months ago. It was the first time she took enjoyment in her friend getting you off.

Now it's a regular surprise. Sometimes they're girls you met many times before, almost like she was dangling them in front of you, teasing you. Other times it's just like Natty. You barely say a few words to them and before you know it, you're covering them in your cum.

Truth is, you always get the gut feeling when it's one of these nights, as soon as Karina and whichever girl it is start their first drinks of the night; you know it's one of those nights. Then it's just a case of waiting.

Natty didn't take long to get on her knees—she must have been excited.

And lucky for her, you're nowhere near being finished.

Karina is prowling and on the move, towards Natty, and she reaches her with both arms as she locks her into her grasp. A kiss, deep, hungry. All tongue. Seeing is believing; some of you ended up inside Natty’s mouth and now she’s sharing, distributing to Karina. Back and forth it goes between their mouths, with some spilling from their lips. As it’s shared, it’s swallowed bit by bit between them.

"Your turn Natty. I want to watch you cum for me." Karina announces she breaks away, then lapping up what remains on her lips and she has a hand on Natty's chest, playing with the mess you made of them.

You're lying there, spent and watching, as Karina guides Natty to her feet.

"There you go," Karina is pushing the girl towards the couch and she gets to the edge, then places a knee on it. Your eyes drift over her body as Karina bends her into place, her sticky chest planted against the cushions. Her juicy ass is in the air and the light in the room highlights every line and contour. Her flawless curves are accentuated to their perfect best.

"Legs wider, yes, yes. That's perfect," Karina's voice cuts through the air. She's behind her, hand on the small of her back, urging Natty into position. Lower and lower, Natty's head pressed into the cushion; she's turning to look at you, face full of excitement, of yearning.

A quiver passes through her entire body as Karina's lips descend upon her lower back.

Then lower, kissing her tailbone.

Her ass.

Lower and lower, peppering her skin along the way, Karina finally nestles between the two cheeks. Then she places her hands on Natty and starts parting them. "Perfect. Isn't that so perfect?"

Karina doesn't wait for any reply from you.

She doesn't need to. You are fixed there, utterly mesmerised, entranced and completely undisturbed, watching this gorgeous woman lay tongue on her newest conquest. Karina, meanwhile, can't contain her excitement. She's feasting on Natty, lapping at her sex, diving lower and lower with her tongue. "Oh yes. You taste so good."

Everybody's taste is unique. Just as her aroma earlier was something you couldn't put into words or compare, you can only imagine how sweet Natty must taste. And as if she reads your mind, Karina adds to the narrative, "So sweet."

And the sounds.

Fuck. The sounds. 

Natty moans, loud, sharp and high. You should have known it, her voice being what it is—the tone; so unique, so unmissable. You should have expected the melodic composition. The pleasure is pure, crystal-clear music. It's perfection in sound. It's the kind of musicality people work their entire lives to compose, to play, to express.

To do all without a care in the world.

With as much freedom, spontaneity and energy as possible.

The tone shifts, and the octaves change. And it's Karina, playing her, burying a pair of fingers into Natty.

There is no question here. The two are in sync. Karina, a performer by profession, plays your guest as if Natty is merely an extension of herself. Your girlfriend, in her element, her playground, her stage and her domain. You are her audience. And she has never sounded, looked, or acted so majestic in her role.

Natty sings a string of profanities, nonsensical and fragmented phrases.

"That good?" Karina exclaims, teeth digging into her butt cheek as Natty spills into the cushion. Her legs quiver. Karina smiles into her ass, nipping her a second time and then she turns to you, staring at you with the same dark hunger, the same thirst, you always see.

"You still with us, babe?" she asks—rhetorical, she know’s you’re fixated. There's no question in her mind. She can read you and she knows how captivating this performance is.

"God yes," you whisper in reply. She's smiling wide.

"Good." That one word response, so laden with meaning.

It's a dangerous smile. It means only trouble. Good trouble.

"Come here," she's beckoning you behind Natty. Your legs feel weak and like jelly, yet you crawl up and behind her, your hand slips up to her thigh, pressing, pawing and grabbing her flesh. She purrs at your touch, and Karina, too, responds with delight.

"Natty," you begin, feeling her ass under your touch. "Do you want me inside you?"

"Mhm. Yes."

Karina slips a hand around your erection, her wet, lubricated fingertips meet your skin and when she says, let me get you ready for her. That alone could have done the job. But, damn, her hand feels so good as it strokes. The motion's just the right pace and when her grip gets tighter, a tremor courses through you.

"You did such a wonderful job already." Her praise is just as nice as her tongue running along the side of your length and then her lips, pursed, locking onto the tip.

"Karina..." it's a long-drawn groan. She lets her tongue swivel over you, each stroke lasting longer and longer. The more she continues, the more feels you grow and get hard—she works you until the last ounce of sanity leaves your brain.

Then she draws away and finishes her sentence, "I told you, you're the best. Now look at her, look how needy she is." Karina's still got a hand on your cock and the other caressing Natty's cunt.

Natty’s now the girl in the center of it all. Her beautiful face turned, eyes closed. She's twitching, aching, longing. She whimpers, and then gasps in desire as you angle your cock at her slit. Her folds open gratefully and the wet warmth of her sex embraces you. Her groans rise again, heightening ever more in the satisfaction as she backs herself further onto your length.

You move, thrusting into her, and she breaks into a tempered moan.

"Oh yes! God, yes."

And you feel a hand grab at your backside, encouraging, guiding, demanding more of you. She partners her touch with an all-telling grin. Karina's about as happy watching you fuck someone else as she is being fucked.

"That's it... You like it like this Natty? Does this feel good to you?"

It's a silly thing to ask, but it still makes Natty stir. It makes her hot—burning hot. As soon as the words are out of her, and she follows with a moan, she becomes tighter around you.

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes..." she trails into several more repetitions as you angle deeper into her.

Your girlfriend is dancing her fingertips over her skin. "So amazing," your lover is still muttering her words. "So fucking hot," Karina says as she tracks her kisses up Natty's back. Gentle kiss after gentle kiss to her glistening back as Natty keeps driving her ass back against you. 

There is the unmistakable look of an idea forming in Karina's mind. She's climbing onto the sofa, crawling past Natty onto the back of it, where Natty's head is pressed against the fabric. Natty grows hesitant at the expectation of what's to come, and it allows you to take over. A hand on either side. You're gripping her hips and really fucking her, pushing your cock fully into her and stretching her.

You see Natty's fingers wrapping around the bottom of the sofa cushions in an iron grasp, trying to bear the surge of bliss. She shudders and clenches up as Karina runs a set of nails up her back.

"Yes, baby, you take her, don't be afraid," Karina hisses her words, raking at Natty's back with her claws. "Harder." Karina demands and you pull on Natty's hips, pulling the gorgeous young woman into your hips as you fuck.

Karina's sliding into where she wants to be, right in front of Natty's face, sitting where she rests it. She's handling her like the toy she currently is, pulling her head exactly where Karina wants it, and coercing Natty's mouth onto her. To bury her in and make her satisfy Karina's craving.

And Natty wastes no time, sliding her lips onto Karina, exploring her core the way she has explored her mouth. "Just like that," your girlfriend cries as she rests a hand on Natty's head and rocks back against her. "See, I knew you'd be perfect for us."

You have to admit, Karina nailed it with this one. Before any of the girls even step into the apartment, they know why they're there, but none of them are as ready for it as Natty. It must be a deep, dark fantasy of her own, maybe something she's played out in her mind over and over. It must have been burning inside her before even that first taste of red wine.

Red wine.

That's it. That's how you knew it was always going to end up like this. Fuck, you must be a fool for having missed it all those times before. It's so obvious now that it's when she drinks red wine with them—that's the signal of how the night's going to end. Your subconscious had made the connection, now you realise.

You smile to yourself in the moment of clarity and Karina has noticed, breaking through her moans to ask, "You look a little lost back there, babe. Something funny?"

She's got a coy grin on her lips and her hand gripping Natty's hair, grinding the woman's face further into her pussy. It's a stream of muffled moans from Natty between her hungry licks of Karina's cunt. She's all action between you and Karina's stare. "Nothing."

You raise a hand and spank Natty's ass; the echo fills the air and her cheek ripples. Karina flinches with surprise and she's drawing the young woman further into her body. "Jesus, fuck. Again."

Again and you lay your palm on Natty. Harder. She mewls in pain and Karina shivers in bliss. Her fingertips dig at the younger woman, grabbing her by her scalp and pushing her harder.

A final time you spank her ass, planting your hands and digging your fingers into her soft flesh. Using the strike on your mount to signal one thing; faster.

You're reckless now—manic. Grab her ass and pound; that’s all that is on your mind. You're rabid—not holding anything back. This is the sole reason that girl's here tonight and you're not letting her down, nor Karina.

You hammer against her body, deep into her depths. Her cries echo over Karina's. Each hit a satisfying smack to Natty's cheeks. Slaps and claps and cries. Sounds fill the room. The wet squelch, the grunt of every stroke to the backing track of Karina's rich mewls.

It's a symphony, eroticism on an epic scale.

Your eyes roll upward, over Natty's body and land on Karina. She's bouncing on Natty's tongue. Head back, face creased with pleasure. A grimace so beautiful that you swear it is the definition of raw sexuality.

Natty's struggling; her legs are giving way and she keeps reaching with her hands. To the couch, the cushions, Karina's legs, to anything. There is no steadying her, and it looks like she's barely clinging on for dear life. She has only her waning strength and determination holding her together.

You think she's cumming. But fuck, it is hard to be sure. Maybe you should slow down, but if she is cumming once, better to make it twice. Or thrice. So, you pick up the pace instead. You become wilder, stronger, faster, more forceful.

She's not even eating Karina's cunt anymore—she just can't. You grab Natty's arms and pull her upright so she doesn't slip. Chest to back now—she’s against you and your thrusts drive upward into her.

Natty wails and all the while, Karina is sliding down the couch onto her knees, face to face with Natty. She brings a hand to Natty's throat, grabbing and pushing to pin her against you. And her other hand is sinking between Natty's legs.

Karina's teasing Natty's cunt with the soft caresses of her fingers, and you're sliding between those fingers and into the girl. "Look at you," Karina's saying between clenched teeth, then a loud hiss passes her lips. "Oh, fuck."

A fire blazes across the brunette's eyes—you swear it is an inferno. Fingernails and knuckles are going white in her grip of Natty's neck, and the same could be said of yours holding her arms.

"Oh, Karina!" Your newfound fuck toy screams your girlfriend's name out at the top of her voice.

Karina responds by rubbing her fingers on Natty's clit, then pressing hard, strumming it at a maniacal pace. She's whispering into Natty's ear, words only the girl can hear, coaxing something out of her.

Natty screams again and again. Your name then Karina's.

She's cumming. 

Not just that, she's fucking squirting.

Her body's a boneless jelly in your arms as it spasms. And your girlfriend just won't stop her mischievous act, not a single pause until she's dragged more from the young beauty. She's dragging her second and then a third eruption.

It pours. It flows. Eruption is exactly the right word. 

Natty's spraying onto your cock— 

onto Karina's fingers— 

down your legs— 

on the couch— 

everywhere.

You've got an ardent geyser in your grip and her voice cracks, the climax too much for her, for any of you.

In a flurry of a moment, Natty falls, slipping from your grasp and collapsing and sinking against Karina's chest. Limp. Saturated and dripping, sweat and cum.

The girl has come undone.

You've slipped out of her, set her free, but you're ready to burst. Staggering behind her, a mess and almost drunk on sex, you catch your breath. "Karina... I..." you begin.

"Look at the mess she made." Look at the mess she is. 

Karina's laying the girl down to the side; Natty is almost lifeless aside from the aftershocks still tearing through her.

"Karina..." you try again. "Karina, please..."

"Come here sweetie," and that's enough. You sink to your knees on the edge of the seat. Karina's in front of you, grabbing at your erection and lying back. You're collapsing over her, propping yourself with an arm. She's pulling at your cock. It doesn't take much and you're about to fire.

"Please Karina, please" you growl and Karina whispers back the sweetest reply, 'I love watching you do this'.

She's tugging your cock, aiming it at her wet cunt, freshly eaten.

Then your legs grow heavy and stiff, it's impossible to move, muscles tense, locking your body in place. Karina's jerking your cock and it's impossible to hold it.

Release.

It comes.

You can't explain, words can't describe it, the sheer, earth-shattering and mind-numbing rush as it pours. Spurt after spurt, you feel it all come out, and through your hazed vision you're watching it pour over her cunt. Some on her abs, some on her thigh, but most of it coating her pussy. It is all you want to see before you fall, slipping onto her, your head in the nook of her neck. Her words are just a noise in your ear.

"Stay with us," it's her soft voice that you feel vibrate in your ears as her chest rises and falls beneath you. "Natty? Darling, you too."

There's this moment of near silence. Three sets of heavy breaths.

There are things you know to expect before long, but in this space between you don't really know where it'll go. It’s all wild in the night.

"That was... fuck. Intense," you begin, laying the seeds to push the three of you to the next course, "Wasn't it?"

Karina's responding with a push at your shoulders, making you look at her. Her features, still so sharp, she's still so elegantly composed, the dark and playful look hasn't left her eyes. Her smile endearing. "We're not done," she begins, a whisper into your mouth as you lean over her.

Hand grasping your cock, firm, and she’ squeezing a drop or two more out. "I want you inside me." She demands it of you, of your spent dick. This is always the danger. You're just a single cock in a game that demands more.

It hurts as she rubs your cock. No matter how gentle her touch, it feels rough and you wince in her hold, it's raw pain and all you want is to draw back, but you stay. You have to stay. You want to stay. Refusing to let the pain, the momentary sting and discomfort end it. "Give her what she wants," it's Natty's voice, from beside the two of you. Who knows where the young girl even got the strength?

“Please,” It’s rare that Karina pleads, but her mouth is on your ear, nibbling softly. Her hot tongue traces the shell of it and the whole motion gives you a shiver that makes the hair stand on end. "Come on." She coaxes in a sultry, yet playful, sing-song voice. It makes her intentions unmistakable.

You draw your body back and rest on your knees, looking at the two girls, side-by-side, one melting and the other keening. Your heart is still trying to get out of your chest, but somehow the sight of them has calmed you. They make it all feel a little easier.

"I'm sure your cock can still work for me," Karina's words are undisguised lust.

Natty reaches a lazy arm, working her fingers into the cum you left on Karina's body, playing with it. She begins painting Karina's belly, streaking it over her skin. "So much," she purrs, adding a moan as a compliment, her tone soaked in desire.

Karina takes her own finger to it too, dousing it in your fluid before taking it to Natty's lips. It's a question that goes unspoken, not one word, one command, just a mere motion. Natty's reply is perfect; she opens her mouth and accepts it eagerly, slipping her tongue onto Karina's digit and suckling it. 

Natty returns the favour, her finger into Karina's mouth. They're both sucking, tasting, swirling their tongues as you watch, drinking the liquid, gulping it down, savouring the taste. Their eyes locked in an impossibly sinful gaze. Neither can bring themselves to break it.

They only give in and finally end it when their bodies move instinctively, rolling in to a desperate kiss. Mouths together, sharing the fluid back and forth in a series of dirty, noisy kisses.

Natty's running her hand down Karina's body, running it through your cum and heading right for her cunt. One finger sinks inside, met by a silent whimper from Karina and a second finger joins the first as the girl's now twisting inside your girlfriend. She draws in and out, each time pulling more of your cum into Karina's hole.

And your cock, exhausted moments before, now wants to wake. It's stiffening, not too far from hard once again. You're a moth to a flame and Karina's burning brighter than ever. 

Natty's insatiable thirst is getting the better of her and her finger fucks your lover relentlessly.

Karina's mewl of satisfaction turns into a blissful howl. And when you climb between the girl's legs, finding them parted, you grab her behind the knees. Karina moans once more when you move to slip her ankles over your shoulders and Natty is forced to concede. Your stiff shaft, the one Karina has yearned for, drives into her.

Karina absorbs you, clinging, squeezing, and she holds you, embracing you. Her body is soft against yours, yet inside she's hotter than molten iron. She's even wetter, every slick and intimate part of her is grinding against you. "Yes, fuck yes," she's slurring, muttering nonsense.

She's a fucking mess between her legs—there's some of Natty's, there's some of hers, and there's a lot of yours down there, and you're fucking it all into her as lubricant. Natty's forced to watch as you're pressing Karina's knees up to her chest. She's riding the edge between pleasure and pain and enjoying every bit of it.

And there's no better feeling than when you press her even closer, and now her ankles lock at the back of your neck. Every thrust from you forces her ass to rise from the cushion and her cheeks meet your hips in a way that resembles Natty not long ago. Her tits are pressed almost flat under the weight. She is so open to you—so, so willing. 

Her thighs tremble. Her hands claw. She's losing everything inside herself, everything but the one thing she wants most, a violent orgasm.

It's Natty's turn now, a role reversal, as she tries her hand at the encouragement, the guiding partner, "Harder," her first order. "Deeper," her second. Both punctuated with her nails scoring along your flesh. And in an act that's so entirely Natty, she's now spanking your ass and laughing as she does it. She's playfully flirty and full of giddy enthusiasm.

"Faster." Natty's clapping her hands and she's watching your thrusts drive Karina wild. Every stroke, every strike, all of it Karina is crying out for. Every push forward makes her twinge, a sensation, a mix of pleasure and pain, each jolting through her. "God, isn't she great to fuck?"

"She's the best," you groan, struggling to reply with the only response you can formulate. She is, of course, better to fuck than anybody else. There's no question about that.

"And you," Natty turns to her, "are you going to cum for us now?" Karina's hair sways. Her mouth is full of cries and whimpers. Every roll of your hips, every pull back and every plunge into her pussy steals every breath.

"Yes," she says. "Fuck yes. Right there, baby. Don't stop."

Natty relaxes to enjoy the show. She can see your shaft thrusting. She can see it when you withdraw, almost the full length and then every inch into Karina. Each time, your girlfriend's body jiggles and twists and writhes.

Karina's face grows contorted. A contortion of pure delight.

It's what Natty's been waiting for. Watching. The expectation she couldn't express. The feeling inside her core growing.

"Oh. God!" Karina squeals. She's seeing white spots explode in her vision. A flash of colourful patterns swirl in her head. The white heat rises higher and hotter, so high and so bright it consumes her. She's gone in it. Next comes a sound following a deafening gasp that stops the air dead in her lungs, the release as an equally loud scream.

You hear it, and the heat burns inside your ears, as if sound could cauterize. Every cell of your skin sizzles. It's electric, this passion.

Her cunt turns to water and floods. Your cock is saturated. That's all the reason you need to lose yourself. To slip back and slide yourself deeper into her, pumping. Her eyes squeeze shut and a loud, sonorous gasp is swallowed by her lips. She's never seemed sexier. She is utterly engorged with desire.

"Ah! Ah!" 

You know Karina's at her limit. A dire need for respite, for air to fill her lungs—for relief.

You know what you're going to do. Natty is oblivious, so when you pull out of Karina, and slide over Natty—who's lying on her side facing Karina—it catches her by surprise. One that brings a look of elated shock to her face. You push up one leg and mount her from the side, driving your cock into her.

Karina's drowning in air as she opens her mouth to take all she can. Her vision clears. It focuses on Natty.

The young woman is caught, once again, and in the best way possible; she's lost and helpless beneath you, she has to clutch and clasp whatever's available—the cushions, her own arms—and take it. She's face down to the couch; her body twisted. Her tit's pressed underneath her but her waist rotating, one knee pointing at Karina and one leg straight between your own.

And Natty has taken this all in stride. She's dug her nails into her own scalp, grabbing at her hair. And there is no uncertainty or indecision within her body, nor in her mind. She revels in her vulnerability. She loves the feel of you inside her. Loves the thrill that floods through her entire being as you dominate and ravish her.

Karina makes her move. To join Natty, she slides in on her side, lifting Natty's leg over her own hip, turning Natty fully onto her side to face her. You relent for a moment and Karina does what she needs to. She pulls her own leg up under Natty's and hooks it around her ass. The girls pull each other close. Pull each other into a kiss. Their mouths together. Their breath shared.

Karina whispers, but loud enough you can hear her, and says, "Told you," and her words are all wrapped up in a smirk, the smile of satisfaction.

You slap the length of your cock against Karina's ass; teasing her but not sliding into her. And only when Karina has worked herself up even higher do you lower yourself and slide in, penetrating, filling and stretching.

You're fucking in and out of her. This might be a new favourite of yours. The girls tangled together, sharing kisses and bites and tongue. Both their holes are there for you—each available whenever you want it, and each is only a hair width apart.

It's hard for you to keep a focus on everything like this. But you fight through, burying your shaft inside Karina. Once, and twice, and a final time again. And it's ever so easy to just drag yourself out, driving it between their cunts for a few short pumps and then slip it up into Natty.

"Fuck. I wish we'd done this sooner," Karina is mumbling more, but her words are rolling together and coiling into nonsensical verbal splashes of pure want and need.

Natty strains a response, "I'd... love... to... join you. Often."

"Perfect." Karina is happy as she shifts, arching her body to make a point, to tell you who to fuck now.

And you slip, and then you're inside Karina. As easy as that. Buried as deep and hard as you can, she's mouthing a silent cry and her hair falls over her face.

Natty's got a handful of Karina's tit now, caressing her nipples. It's hard not to envy the beauty that's in her hands. Soft, round, pert, perfectly curved, her breasts are works of art, beautiful beyond anything you could ever put into words.

And all of a sudden, Natty has shifted from Karina's mouth, planting her lips on Karina's soft pillows. Natty is suckling at them and Karina's mouth is twisted open in a soundless gasp, then she speaks, "I could do this forever."

Her arms draw along Natty's body until she finds her ass, slipping down and around, and then her fingertip sinks between her cheeks. It makes Natty lurch as it caresses her taint, presses lower, and touches her tight rear entrance.

Then she does it, a manoeuvre only the confident would have considered, a twist and she's pushing a slender finger into Natty's ass and causing the girl to nip at Karina's breast. "Fuck," Natty hisses, giving a breathy shudder. And her reaction draws a grin onto Karina.

And they keep going like that, they are perfectly attuned to each other. And you swap again, seeing the opportunity to really punish Natty. You're angling towards her again, sliding into her soaked cunt.

You push up inside her. With no time or inclination to start gentle, you're instantly fucking her fast. In and out, hard and deep, over and over, you hammer her cunt. She's muffled with a mouth full of Karina.

"How's that Natty? Both your holes are ours." It's Karina, whispering her dirty words again, "tell us you're going to join us again. Tell us."

Natty nods her head against Karina's chest. It's not a verbal answer. But it's an affirmation that, fuck, yes, she'd like that—as would you all. You could have this again, and maybe soon, a replay with a fresh twist.

Maybe next time you can be the one inside Natty's ass. For now, it's Karina's finger working her, and it looks fucking amazing as it drives into her and withdraws in the exact same rhythm that you're giving her.

You both keep the pace, driving Natty into nirvana, and at some point, it's clear when the climax hits. But it's an awfully hard thing to gauge the passage of time while being wrapped and caught and tangled with these two vixens. All you know is that all too soon, your balls are beginning to churn.

And that's when you switch back again, driving into your girlfriend's cunt with no time for a rest.You're going for broke. Slamming yourself fully inside and Karina knows the instant you do what your fate has become. She laughs and squeezes Natty, pulling the girl tighter.

It's only natural that the rising tide, the bubble of the climactic force, grows and grows and grows. Your ears pound in the beat of the blood racing and your breaths come in fits and starts. The noises escaping your three mouths become louder than before, more frenetic, more unchecked. More lustful.

"Karina— I— Natty—" You're losing the fight against your own body. The rush, the pressure, all the sounds, sights, and smells have put the signal in the green. There is no stopping it. No controlling it. It's all building, coalescing, into one pinpoint of space and time, right there between their legs.

Karina's pulling Natty into position as you're pulling out of her cunt. They both turn to face you, their cheeks pressed together, tits too, and their legs in a knot. They're lying in such a manner that they feel to you like an oasis in a hot desert, inviting, like a promised paradise, and it's calling you, tempting, and you can't hold yourself any longer.

You're rubbing yourself over the edge, and they're calling out to you in a desperate tones, still riding some faint traces of orgasms, "On us."

"Go on."

"Please cum on me, on us."

"Cum for us."

You barely hear their calls, and there's no fucking way you know who is saying what. It's just words of need spilling from two filthy mouths.

It takes only a handful of seconds, and then it happens. 

With a harsh spasm from head to toe, you feel it shoot forward, ripping free from your body, and pulsing as you paint their flesh. Spurts and ropes and slivers shoot up and over the girls. A little on a thigh, on their bodies, over their tits and all the way to their pretty little faces.

They're smiling like idiots as you cum. They're proud of it. They relish it. Natty's tongue moves around inside her lips, just getting another taste—a droplet or two. Karina's teasing as always, "Is that all?"

You're still forcing every drop out you can, the final bits dropping to their thighs.

"There's no way that's all of it, huh," Karina continues to tease. And then it ends, and your body lets go and you fall beside them. You simply can't stand any longer.

"I think that's all of it, Karina," Natty's giggling to herself. She's twirling her fingers over Karina's nipple, playing with the rope of cum that landed there. And Karina is humming out an almost silent cry, twisting under the touch. "Here, taste," and the offer is clear, and again Natty is surprising you.

She offers her own tit to Karina, willing her to lick your cum from it. And the act brings a gleam to Karina's eyes as she cups it, bringing it to her mouth to taste. She's sucking and licking and Natty's gasping at the sensation, and at the way Karina nibbles just a little—just a little too much for it to be painless.

You're laying and watching in awe at the debauchery of the scene and wishing you could watch it forever, or at least capture it. The girls are just lapping at each other now, filling their mouths with your seed and swallowing. Laughing. Panting. Moaning. Sighing. Gasping.

Their limbs tangle. Their tongues too. And it's then you realise, no matter how drained you are—completely fucking bone-dry—these two aren't even close to finishing. There's still a show to be enjoyed yet.

You shift just a little to find the most comfortable view, and Karina's taking control now. Slowly she rolls Natty onto her back, their legs still tied, in such a way that Karina can mount her. Natty's got a playful smile across her lips, looking up, seeing the glistening of cum and sweat shining against Karina's neck and cheeks and mouth, her entire gorgeous face soaked in the stuff.

Karina's getting rougher, her nails cutting into Natty's skin. A hungry bite here, a nip there, another scratch here. She's threatening to draw blood as red as the wine she drank. Right on the edge of true pain, but Natty's relishing it. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a small squeal. And you watch her buck and writhe. 

Karina grows ever more forceful—pinning her and keeping Natty in place. She's starting to drive her hips against her. The desire is clear; she wants Natty to a delirium.

You can do nothing but marvel at the sight. You may be raw, you may be sensitive, but you're here to enjoy the show that may yet last a whole night.

"Me and you now, Natty. Are you ready to cum for me?"

"Yes," the whimper slips out of Natty. "Yes, anything for you."

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ out of the blue, part two.

pairing: ot8 x f!reader, part one

genre: one-shot, idol au, smut

word count: 14,5k

warnings: gangbang ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ hair pulling ⋆ small choking ⋆ biting ⋆ marking ⋆ ass slapping ⋆ one!pussy slap ⋆ oral (m. and f. receiving) ⋆ fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ squirting ⋆ multiple!creampie ⋆ cum eating ⋆ rimming and fingering (f. receiving) ⋆ anal ⋆ boobjob! ⋆ double penetration! ⋆ cowgirl! and reverse cowgirl!position ⋆ doggy style! and ass up, face down!position ⋆ daddy kink (guess for who) ⋆ small boy and boy action—the guys are just really close but nothing happens

summary: after some much needed alone time with your boyfriend on his birthday, you somehow forgot about his friends coming over…

author’s note: y’all was hungry for part two so here it is and thank you all for the support!

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You were gasping for air, hands in your lap and legs tucked underneath you as you try to make yourself as small as possible. However there is no way you could hide from any of their eyes. This whole situation shouldn’t make you feel so excited, yearning for anything to happen. This was all your boyfriend’s idea, you thought, looking at his figure sitting on your loveseat, watching all of this so innocently but you could see right through him. He likes this idea as much as you do, well he wanted it first for some odd reason, you are just trying to pick up any self dignity left in you.

You sat on the couch with two of his friends, you at the corner, trying to conceal yourself. Your eyes catch the hard eyes of the leader of the band, face scrunched up into an expression you know he does if truly impressed. It makes you pick up the tulle of your babydoll, keeping your hands occupied as you suddenly feel something shift beside you. The room is quiet, awfully so, everyone waiting for someone to pick up the conversation and it was no other than the cute guy with puffy cheeks and pouty lips.

You turn your head to him. He sits next to you, though now closer, moving slowly like he is being careful not to scare you away. Is it bad you want your boyfriend’s friends to fuck you? “You look pretty.” Han says, looking at your face but his eyes keep glancing down at your push up bra. Your breath hitches as his hand slowly comes to your breast, stopping to caress only with his finger the lace of your bra. You swear you could feel his touch burning you.

“We don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Spoke up Chan, making you snap your head into his direction. He out of everyone looks slightly less deranged from this situation, in exception the youngest doesn’t even want to look at you. “We can pretend like this never happened. We already talked about it–“

“You talked about this?” You breathe out in small shock, eyes wide. The hand hovering over your breast suddenly comes to your thigh, squeezing it. You glance back at Han, heart pumping wildly. His whole demeanor seem to change as the only thing on his mind is your skin against his.

Licking his pretty, pink lips, he looks up with a small cheeky smile on his lips. “We did. Everyone would really like to make this whole fantasy come true.”

“Don’t act so innocent now, Y/N.” Says Seungmin. “We heard how much you like this idea.”

Your lips are pressed against each other into a thin line, head hanging low. How could you not when your boyfriend was giving it to you all so good and then talked about his equally handsome friends joying you two. A finger raises your head back up by your chin, making you look into the dark eyes of one of his friends. You almost sigh in annoyance at his unmoving hand on your thigh. “Do you like it, Y/N?”

Shivering, you close your eyes for a moment, before opening them again. This isn’t a dream, this is literally your dirtiest fantasy come true. You always wanted to be tossed around, used and fucked dumb that the only thing on your mind is them. Everyone would kill to be in your position right now. From dating one of the most desirable man right now, to be touched like this by his friends — to be fucked by all of them. You don’t know what makes Felix so horny about this from his point but he definitely likes it as much as you. Looking into his eyes you only see desire, almost pleading but he would never push you into something you wouldn’t like. Oh, but you love it. “Yes!” You say, leaning over to get closer to Han. Your voice is raspy as your mind is overfilling with dirty thoughts. “Fuck, I love it..please fuck me, all of you.”

Your hands fly to his shirt, crunching it up in your fists. Han breathes out shakily, eyes shining in the setting sun, peaking out of the window. He grabs your forearms tightly, making your boobs push flush together. “Damn, love. You sure know how to use the proper words…” Exclaims Minho, voice on an edge, he was slightly shock by your sudden boldness.

Heart beats wildly inside your chest, looking into the eyes of your boyfriend’s friend, faces so close but you still had to make sure… “Can I Felix?” You mumble, tightening your grip on the shirt, while glancing at your boyfriend.

His eyes were wide, licking his lips at the sight before him. “I think he wants this more than you do.” Teases Changbin, glancing at your boyfriend’s obvious bulge. Some of them laugh at the words but your attention is only on Felix who wipes his sweaty palms onto his sweatpants.

He watches his close friend leaning over your body, lips dangerously close to the pulse point on your neck. He can’t miss the twinkle in his eyes and the way he grips your arms closer to his slightly exposed chest. Felix slowly nods his head, sealing the deal. The answer fills the heavy air and you sigh out as Han in front of you finally presses his lips onto your neck.

He firstly kisses the skin softly, testing if you don’t mind but you only pull him closer at that. You feel light headed from the way his kisses become progressively more rough. He, for a moment stops, turning his head to look you in your eyes, pulling your hands away from his shirt. Words weren’t exchange but you understood immediately, loosening your grip on the material and he on the other hand does something different. His hold travels over your arms to your wrist, awaking goosebumps all over your body. His movements stop there, pressing your wrist together, before pulling your arms above your head.

You gasp out as he slowly makes you fall back onto the couch, pressing your arms by your wrists on the headrest. It’s been a long time since you felt so helpless under someone, it makes a different kind of emotions run through you. You never felt cornered or intimidated by Han, he was always so sweet to you and in some way he reminded you of your boyfriend. The two were always sweet, bright smiles all over their faces but you should’ve known better. Even by dating Felix for a while now, he still surprised you by his dominance sometimes but you never guessed Han to be the same. He towers over you now, hips dangerously close to yours as he kneeled between your open legs. God, you have to buy some new panties.

He lowers himself closer to you, chests pressing together and both of you sighing. You could feel his well made muscles on your chest and he could definitely feel your hard nipples poking him through the layers of clothing. Your mouth opens in silent gasp as his knee grazes over your crotch and he uses your surprise by pressing his lips to yours. There are pillowy, you could taste his cherry chapstick on them, making you moan on his tongue that grazed over your teeth. It feels so dirty and wrong to kiss someone other than your boyfriend and literally infront of him but you now know that this could basically make him cum in his pants, like he did the first time he ate you out.

You are right however by your statement that Han is in some way similar to your boyfriend. The boy was whimpering like crazy, whining with you as he made you roll your hips onto his knee. You are dizzy from his touch, completely at his mercy, enjoying the fact that he could do whatever he desires with your body — all of them. You must be fucked in the head, already leaking onto his jeans but as your head rolls to the side, your eyes open. The guys are chewing on their lips, Hyunjin already palming himself slightly to relief some tension, even Jeongin now couldn’t help but glance at you.

Changbin tsks, just as Han starts to again lick at your neck. “Who said you could go first?” He says, raising up to his feet. He looks so good like this, eyes staring at you from above and the way his shirt clinged onto his chest and arms, made your pussy clench around nothing.

The boy for a second pulls away from you, only pressing his face onto your collarbones. “Who said I couldn’t?” He fires back, pulling himself up to his knees to look at you, still holding your hands over your head.

You glance back at the other who now leans over you, caging you to the couch with one of his hands on the cushion. The way his muscles jump at the stretch, makes your face flush with heat. You, one night once shared your adoration about his muscles with your boyfriend who also has a small thing for them. “You won’t mind us sharing, right?” You open your mouth to say your answer but a chocked cough echoes in the room, making you all look to that direction.

“Before we do anything, we should probably talk about safe words first.” Says Chan, like the good leader he is but you could see the way his face is deeply flushed even from here. “What’s your safe word, babygirl?”

You visible shiver at the nickname and his voice that dropped in tone. Hands come to you thighs caressing you, for a moment you forgot to answer, looking down and seeing two sets of hands at each one of your legs. “The traffic light…” Your voice is almost too quiet because how can you talk when two beautiful men are touching your sensitive thighs? You hope that none of the comes across that one sensitive spot…

“Use it if you need it, we can stop anytime you want…you understand?” You nearly again missed his question, watching Han as he kisses the inside of your right knee while Changbin’s hand travels teasingly up and down your leg. You, for a second meet Minho’s eyes from behind Han’s head.

“Yes…” You whimper, biting your bottom lip at the embarrassing sound, closing your eyes. A thumb touches your lip before you could bite at it even more, making you look into the dark eyes of the man. Changbin experimentally, after you release your lip from the cages of your teeth, trails his thumb over the inside of your mouth. If you had a mirror, you’d be blushing at your already messy state, lifting your hand to take the thumb inside your mouth.

“Tell me the words.” Orders the leader, voice cracking at the end, like in a groan. The hands around your wrists loosen, but you still had them there, hearing a small ’good girl’ from the corner of the room. Next you feel kisses on your knee again, watching as Han slowly makes his way lower and lower while making an so intense eye contact that you almost whimper again.

The thumb in your mouth goes deeper, pressing on your tongue, you could feel the saltiness of his skin or was it your pathetic tears you were tasting? Changbin’s eyes are peaking at you from behind his disheveled hair, chest heaving up and down wildly. You at the moment remembered that you still have to answer as the kisses aren’t traveling far enough for you nor the boy who isn’t touching you no more. “Green for keep going, y-yellow to slow down–“ You squeal slightly when Han touches you with his hand right where your thigh meets your pubic bone. No way he already found it. “–and red to stop.” You finish, eyes wide at those watching you from beneath. You don’t like the smirk on his face.

“Good girl.”

You gasp around the thumb in your mouth, drooling slightly. “Careful sweetheart, Channie here has a daddy kink.”

“I do not!” Defends Chan himself by the remark made by Minho. You however feel your pussy thighten around nothing for some reason at this small information. You have seen a video of Chan calling himself daddy as a joke but you don’t think he was joking at all. And you can’t say that he didn’t look like one.

“What’s your color, sweetheart?” Says Changbin, ignoring the bickering as the prettiest girl is right under him.

You look up at him, eyes glassy. How is this even a question? “Green.” You say, voice mumbled by his thumb pressing down on your tongue. The two men smile at your words and finally Changbin switches his thumb with his own tongue.

You groan at his taste and you couldn’t help but to pull your hands from behind your head to run through his curls. The skirt of your babydoll is lifted up to your soft tummy, fingers traveling over your skin while you make out with another of your boyfriend’s friends. A loud gasp comes from your mouth, pulling away from Changbin as you feel Han sucking right at your spot. Your hips jump wildly, in shock from how one of your sensitive spots is so roughly stimulated. It tickles slightly and Han couldn’t help but laugh at how much you are sensitive there. He didn’t expect that it would be that much. His laugh vibrates on your skin, it is so embarrassing how wet you are getting, you could feel your wetness pooling under you. “Sensitive there, huh?” Joins Changbin, mumbling the words against your gaping mouth.

The way Han’s fingers are pressing tightly on your hips, trying to keep them from moving while basically making out with your sweet spot is almost enough to make you cum. His mouth is so close to your pussy, basically feeling it on you from how his saliva mixes with your arousal and damping even more the lace of your underwear. When he suddenly bites down on the spot, his teeth dangerously tugging at the edge of your panties you whine out. “Please!”

Changbin looks at you with mock confusion, Minho peaking from behind the other and cooing at your words. “You have to ask for what you want, pretty or nothing.” His eyes go to the strap of your outfit that slides down your shoulder and he couldn’t help but marvel over your tits.

You bang your head down on the couch, hips raising desperately as Han only bites you more at your desperate movements. There definitely is going to be a spot after but you didn’t talk about marking, so you won’t say anything against it. “Please…” You try again, eyes filling with small tears. You feel so little at the thought of begging in this room filled with men waiting for their own turn to fuck you. You raise your head to look down at Han who for a second stops his sucking at your sensitive skin. “-need your mouth.”

“Where?” He smirks, making you whine, head rolling away to possible hide from the watchful eyes. Changbin doesn’t like your lack of answer as well as his companion, grabbing you roughly by the chin to make you look back at him.

“I thought you would be good to us.”

“I am!”

“No…” He says, clicking his tongue, other hand traveling down to the bottom of your skirt, only pulling it up more. “Be good and tell us what you want.”

You close your eyes for a moment but your self respect already left the room minutes ago, the moment they saw you. “Please, Han-“ The man looks at you in expectation. “Eat my pussy, please, I need you so bad.”

He groans at your words, eyes rolling back and pulling at the material of your underwear in hurry. The hand on your chin maneuvers you to its owner, his tongue fucking your mouth messily. You raise your hips, helping the other to remove the necessary piece of clothing. As the cold air hit your folds, you realize that you’re exposed to someone completely new but however before you could completely cross your legs, Han manhandles you, making your hips momentarily lift from the couch. You yelp as he lifts your bottom half before bending it so your legs are up, your whole pussy on display for the whole room.

His hands hold your legs up by the bottom of your thighs and your mind goes completely blank as his wet, hot tongue laps a straight, long line through your folds. Gasping out, your hand grasps the shoulder of his friend who pulls away from you to have a look at how much of a mess you are. Han eats you out like starved, saliva everywhere, tongue lazily licking you all up and juices dripping down your legs. You whine, whimper, noises so filthy that they made you embarrassed but your reaction only made the boy go faster, eyes shining with his own tears of pleasure.

Minho as everyone else couldn’t help but to stare at you with longing. His friend is so lucky, pussy as pretty as your pleasured face and the sounds? He has to lean over the body of his friend who is now sucking at your cute, little clit to have a better look. His body presses against his, hand running up his back and to the the back of his neck, before it pulls at his head. Han face is completely red, face completely covered in you and the only thing he could smell are your sweet juices. “Don’t be selfish, Hannie…tell us how she tastes.” The second oldest says, hand still at his hair, making his head fall back in delight.

“So fucking good, hyung.” He says, grinning wildly at his friend. “You have to taste her…”

Minho humms at his words, before shocking you as he swipes his finger on Han’s lips before putting into his mouth. You curse silently at the sight but it still reaches his ears, making him smirk down at you both. “Hmm, you are right—she does taste so fucking good–“ He groans, tilting his head at you. “Wonder what her own mouth can do…Changbin, would you mind testing for us?” He smacks his lips again at your tangy taste.

Your eyes travel to the named man who plays with your bottom lip. “How is she with her mouth, Yongbok?”

Everyone turns to him, you also. Felix wakes up from his trance as his friends and girlfriend look at him suddenly. You wanted to ask him if he is all good but deep down you just know — know that he is getting off to this. “What?” He asks, voice tiny, Seungmin and Hyunjin snicker at his reaction.

“Is she good with her mouth?”

Looking at his best friend he glances back at you, giving you a small smile. “The best.” The blonde says proudly, making you flush as all of them answer in series of sighs, ‘aaaa’ and ‘ohhh’.

Changbin turns back at you, slowly standing up and to your delight his crotch perfectly hovered over your face. “Want you…” You say, words falling from mind out of your mouth before you could think them over. Your words seem to surprise him for moment as well as your hands on his upper thighs, nails piercing the material of his black jeans. The look on his face told you that he has zero patience left in him and same goes for you, pulling his tight shirt up his stomach. Your mouth waters at his soft yet defined tummy, fingers helping him unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants.

His cock hits your chin before you could even take a good look at him and when you do your mouth opens with no words coming out. He was thicker than your boyfriend and you couldn’t help but imagine how he would feel stretching you out. You however still have in your mind that your boyfriend is perfect for you and you will always stand by it. You moan loudly as Minho suddenly pulls Han’s head back into your pussy, Changbin taking your surprise by shoving his tip into your mouth.

He tasted sweet, tip so thick and flushed that it almost looked like it hurts but you are already swallowing it all down. He groans as you took him deeper as well as you could while you are being eaten out. “Fuuck, isn’t she pretty?” The man before you rasps out, head rolling back as your tongue flicker over the prominent vein on his dick.

“The prettiest.”

You don’t even know who said that as you are pretty occupied at the moment. You choke around him as you take him deeper into your mouth, drool already rolling down your chin. The whole room was filled with nasty, wet sounds of your cunt and your mouth trying to take down the biggest dick you probably had. Han doesn’t seem to want to breathe, you don’t wonder why Minho has his fingers still in his hair, pulling his head up to let him take a breath while it only edges you further. You think you were close almost three times so far and the way Minho who quickly picked up on your expressions of frustration did it only to tease you more, makes you want to cry. He is evil but he knows, it will only make you cum harder.

You moan around the cock in your mouth, slurping it all up as it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, Changbin pulls you away to let you breathe, gulping in air but it is hard as the mouth on your pussy only licks more into you. Han pulls away slightly to stretch your lips apart by his fingers before sticking his whole tongue inside your tight hole. You almost scream at the feeling, you have never been fucked by someone’s tongue this way and it set the inside of your tummy on fire. “I cuuuming—“ You whine out, eyes squeezing shut, legs shaking wildly, still being held up. It hurt so bad but also so good…

“So soon?” Teases the cat like man, already seeing how he would make his friend pull away from you. It made you cry out.

“Please, let me cum—I’ve been good!”

Minho who wasn’t even doing much to you seems to be the one controlling your whole body. “Don’t ask me.” He surprises you, making you look at him just as he gestures to the man eating your pussy.

You feel yourself hanging right on the edge, hand caresses the side of your head, making it tilt to the direction for everyone to see. “Please, Hannie, I’m so close, let me cum, please, please–“ He doesn’t answer too busy fucking his tongue inside your hole and you are thankful as you are almost tasting your sweet release. When his thumb circle your puffy, red clit you immediately fall apart on his tongue, hand shooting to grab at his hair, right on top his friend’s.

You see black spots behind your eyes that roll back inside your head, body arching off the couch. Even after cumming Han doesn’t stop, only going harder and after already three orgasms in one day, it makes your whole body shake. “No more!” You plead, surprising yourself by pulling him away from you, clit twitching even after not being touched anymore. Both of you try to catch your breath from your earth shattering orgasm. Curses after curses flying out of everyone’s mouth because of how amazing you just looked cumming. Your boyfriend is so lucky to have a girl like you.

Your eyes open again, sticking together a little by your mascara running down your cheeks and you at the moment realize you still had big, now leaking cock before your face. You don’t know if it was the orgasm but something made you want even more. You want to taste everyone. Know how each one of them fucks and looks while cumming only for you. You surprise the man before you with pulling him by his hips to swallow his whole cock. He gasps in pleasure and amazement at you taking his whole cock down your throat, thank god your throat was already used enough for you to do that.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you.” Moans Han, you in response humming around his friend’s cock. Your hand grabs Changbin’s, him letting you lace it though your hair and you completely still at that.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?” You nod but that wasn’t enough for him.

Your eyes flicker to Han who pulls down his t-shirt over his head, for a second looking dumbly at his slim waist and defined muscles while a string of saliva connects you to Changbin. “Fuck my mouth.” You repeat as the other pulls down his pants slightly before stopping.

“Does anybody have a condom?”

“No!” You answer too quickly, everyone looking at you with wide eyes. You don’t usually let anyone go raw, even before meeting your amazing boyfriend you have never let anyone but you trusted them and you even think that some maybe have also never done it. Sex or going raw? Probably both. “We don’t have to…” You try to reason a little, meeting the eyes of your boyfriend who looked anything but against it. Gosh, he is so dirty, it’s sinful…

“Fuck, you are going to let me fuck you raw?” Asks Han who rubs the skin of your thighs, warming them up with his touch. His eyes are wide in excitement, pants low enough to make you get a glimpse of the base of his cock, small hairs on his pubic bone. You nod with a small smile, making him pull his dick out and as his whole body, he is beautiful. Long enough to hit the most sensitive spots and curved perfectly at the tip.

“Do your hear that Felix? You gonna let him fuck your girlfriend raw?” Spoke up Seungmin, eyes wild just as his blonde hair.

“Whatever my baby wants.”

You whimper at his words, eyes looking into his before you feel the tip of Han’s cock entering you as well as Changbin raising your head to take him again in your mouth. “Color?” Asks the man between your legs, skin glistening under the light.

“Green.” You murmur around the cock in your mouth and he at that pushes himself inside you fully. If he didn’t hear you and Felix fucking or if didn’t eat you out like starved, he might have preped you a little but you are a big girl. You’re going to take it all.

Your ears ring, completely deaf and oblivious of your loud moans of pleasure as Han snaps his hips into yours. The way the hair at the top of his cock grinds over your used clit, makes you only gush more around him. You could feel every vein on him, tip kissing just at you cervix while you try so desperately to keep up with the other cock in your mouth. You just lay there under them, Changbin using your mouth as he pleases, hissing every time you swallow around him. “You feel so fucking good–holy shit!-“ Han looks and sounds already spend, gasping every time your gummy walls would clench around him. He falls over you, hands balancing himself only by your tits that he grabs at.

“I don’t think I will last–“ He laughs, slightly in embarrassment but you only encourage him by gripping at the hand playing with your sensitive nipple. “Fuck where do you want me?”

You are at that pulled away abruptly from the the cock in your mouth that you feel twitching on your cheek. “Wherever you want…” You rasp out, eyes hooded.

He whimpers quietly only for your ears as others only hear the sound of skin slapping. He looks slightly in panic, not knowing where to cum, it was cute if he wouldn’t be fucking you so hard. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum on your tits-“ You nod in agreement, him straightening his back to pull the top of your bra down, making your tits spill out, nipples hardening even more from the cold air.

His hips shutter, pulling out quickly but some of his cum still lands on your cunt. Changbin lets you shuffle down a little for his friend to completely cover you in his cum. The warm liquid drips over your tits, pooling into your cleavage and it was so lot of it that even he has to gasp at the sight. “Holy fucking–“ He doesn’t let himself finish before lowering his head to take your left nipple into his mouth.

You gasp at his teeth grazing it and at the way how dirty this feels, seeing him suck his release from your skin. To your displeasure he is again pulled away by Minho who makes room for Changbin to grab you by your hips and pull you down the couch, so your whole ass is hanging from the couch. However he holds you tightly in his arms by your hips and before you could talk he slides inside you till he hits your cervix.

You don’t even say anything, only gasping in short breaths at his immediate fast pace. He stretched you out, the slight sting only making you more crazy in the head. Your hands grap roughly at the cushion behind your head, gripping for dear life to try and find some sanity left in you. You could feel him twitching already inside of you because your mouth is too good not to blow right away, he really held himself together till now, just so he could feel you clamping down on him. How are going to take all of them, you don’t know but you just have to — you need it.

“Gonna cum inside, yeah?” He announces, you only grasping at his shirt that keeps riding up his stomach. You can’t help but put your legs around his hips, pulling him closer if that’s even possible and to your surprise you do but it also makes him go deeper. His left hand wraps around your middle while the other grabs your chin to pull you into a kiss.

You both gasp as his hips snap into you so roughly you knock your head into the back of the couch, feeling him empty himself inside of you. The fact his cum is probably now mixing with your boyfriend’s makes you break out in a sob. As he puts your bottom half back on the couch, he pulls out of you slowly, his cum immediately leaking out of you. “Fuck me.” Someone speaks up, your glassy eyes only meeting with Felix’s, hand squeezing his still covered cock.

You catch your breath, well you try to, sitting up next to the guys who almost now sat on top of each other. Your hair sticks to your forehand, making you wipe the substance off when Han already back at least in his boxers tilts his head at you. “But you didn’t say I could…” You are confused, mind still hazy but thankfully there is someone who answers for you.

“She asked you, idiot.” Says Seungmin, walking up to you slowly, making you gulp as he comes to grab your chin. “Your bad, maybe next time buddy.” You hate how you only got more excited by his words, also having a feeling that this definitely isn’t the last time you will let them use you.

Minho gestures for the boy next to him to move, him doing just that as you know are between him and Seungmin. As you calm down your racing heart you realize your tits are out as also your whole bottom half visible for anyone. You bashfully cross your arms, eyes everywhere but the two of them but you only meet eyes with Chan who already has his own on where your hands were. You somehow forgot about the others as you were literally just fucked into the couch.

Soft touch at your arms around your breasts as well as on your crossed legs, makes your body relax a little. You look at your right at Seungmin who held a surprising softness in his eyes. They are all so sweet to you…”Do you want to keep going?” You nod at his words, mirroring the smile on his face. “Color?”

“So fucking green.”

Minho laughs shortly, you turning to him to catch just in time his gorgeous smile. It makes you feel blessed. “Good because we are not going to be so gentle with you.” You wonder how because what happened just a moment was already enough but you couldn’t help but yearn for more.

He doesn’t see any signs of you backing out and he has to say you’re a little slutty for being already horny again, waiting for new people to pleasure your body. Minho leans to lick your bottom lip, you gasping at the contact as your head is pulled back to give room for the other to kiss down your neck. Minho bites your bottom lip, enjoying your little sighs. He keeps doing that and without you even knowing, pulling away your arms from your chest. You only notice it by the cold air hitting your cum covered nipples.

Seungmin blew cold air at your sticky skin, goosebumps appearing on your body before putting his mouth back at the same spot. He sucks at the skin where your neck meets your ear before biting down for the sole purpose to create a hickey. You gasp at his boldness and him using your surprise to trail his hand down to cup your dripping center. Two people on you, pleasuring you with their mouths is a little much but also not enough at the same time. You want them to consume you whole and then spit you out like the slut you are.

Minho pulls away from your mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What do you say Seungmin? Should we bend her over the couch?”

The named man looks at his friend, mockingly thinking. “The slut doesn’t deserve the comfort-“ He looks at you while saying that dirty name but you only look back at him with longing. No one called you that before and in any other situation with someone other than your boyfriend or his friends you wouldn’t like that but you now feel like him calling you that is quite fitting — because you do feel like one.

“You’re quite right.” Smirks the man with red hair, staring at you like you were something filthy to look at. “Get on the floor.” Your mouth hangs open. “Now.”

Slowly and clumsily you let yourself slide down the couch till your knees hit the carpet. You look up from there to the other side of the couch, now closer to you than before. How Hyunjin and Chan are staring down at you, makes you shake with exception because you couldn’t wait for them to have their turn. Your eyes look at the youngest who sits next to Changbin, under his legs the cute boy with puffy cheeks. You are slightly concern as because Jeongin simply doesn’t want to meet your eyes, big hands palming his baggy jeans but you know that if he wouldn’t want to be here, the others would’ve already do something about it.

Your staring is interrupted as someone’s hands push you down on to your hands, pulling your ass immediately back to them. Turning around you of course see the older one needing the flesh of your ass. You watch him pull his shirt between his teeth and you at that feel his cock leakage on your ass cheek. You would do anything to see him right now as well as also his body, knowing about the little scar on his stomach and you feel your heart in someway skip a beat because he is now showing it freely and comfortably.

Your head is turned back around, gasping as Seungmin already pulled himself out of his pants. He was so long and veiny, you wonder how you’re going to take him all into your mouth, already feeling your jaw hurting at the sight. You think back at how they talked about how rough they will be with you and when Minho suddenly slides his whole dick inside of you, you think you’re going to black out by the end of it.

Your whine breaks into groan as the older snaps his hips back before burring himself back inside of you with roughness you have never felt before. Your lips touch the tip of Seungmin’s cock, smearing his precum over your lips, like your own personal brand of lipgloss. Your tongue pokes out to lick away the salty liquid, before rolling out of your mouth to let him grind his tip all over your tongue. He groans at the sight and how your eyes are barely open from his friend’s movements. He really does have the dancer hips.

When you teasingly with the tip of your tongue poke at the underside of his cockhead, he grabbed you by your hair to finally bury himself into your mouth. You don’t even gag anymore, throat completely relaxed for his cock but you can’t say the same about your cunt that keeps clenching around Minho. He bites down hard at the material between his teeth, already soaked in his saliva before letting it fall from his mouth to speak up. “Has anyone ever fucked you here?”

His words are followed by the feeling of his thumb at the rim of your ass, waking you up from your fucked out state. You don’t move for a second, letting his thumb circle over the hole that is already wet from your leaking slick. When you however suddenly feel his thumb breaching the tight rim of muscles, you tap hurriedly at Seungmin’s thigh who pulls you from him by your hair.

Your vision is a bit blurry when looking back at the man who stopped all of his movements. “I-I-“ You try to gulp for air, shaking your head wildly in embarrassment, not meeting anyone’s eyes. A sudden slap rings around the room, you yelping from the harsh sting given by the man behind you.

“W-what, s-sweatheart?” He mocks. He already sees through you. He knows that you’re not feeling uncomfortable or anything as he could feel your wetness drip from where you two are connected.

“I’m prepped!” You exclaim, heat raising all over your body, looking at Felix from beneath your hair. “…I know how much you wanted to try it–“

Everyone gasps in amazement from your confession, the hands on your ass only holding at the meat of it tighter. “Fuck you heard that Yongbok?” Breaths out his hyung, leaning over you, pressing his chest against your back while his thumb is back at your ass. “Would you mind if I fucked her there before you?”

The blonde’s eyes widened, he wants so badly to be the first one but something about seeing his hyung do that made him even harder. “We don’t have lube…” Is the only thing he says, making you gasp. Is this really happening?

“With a leaking cunt like that? He won’t be needing any-“ Snickers Seungmin.

Then you whine in the lost of contact as Minho suddenly pulls himself out of you. “Fuck!” You cry out loudly as his next action knocks you down to your face. He spread your cheeks apart before licking along stripe from your pussy to your ass, circling his muscle there at the rim.

You shove your head into your arms, gasping for air as he ate you out from the back. This position and situation made you feel so little, sobbing into your arms at the foreign stimulation. A finger presses inside of you slightly, the tight muscles rejecting it. “Color?”

You don’t answer because you don’t know how. Do you want to keep going or stop? There really is no between at the moment. The heavy air in the room is quiet other than your small whimpers. You are pulled up to rest on your knees, Minho tilting your head to look at him. “If you don’t want to, you can say no. No one is pressuring you.” His tone is soft both hands resting on your tummy.

“I want to…” You trail off, trying to look away, slightly anxious but he doesn’t let you. You look in to his eyes, you always liked them, they seem to shine like two little pearls. “I’m just nervous, I’ve never done it before.” And there are many things you haven’t done before till now, it kind of seems a lot on your mind but your heart only wants more.

“I will be gentle, I promise.” He kisses you shortly, you melting at this side of him. “You are safe in this room, you can relax, nothing is going to happen to you.”

You become shy at his sweet words and the genuineness in his voice. Your head rolls down his shoulder, hiding in the collar of his shirt. “Okay.”

His next kiss is on your forehead, making you look up at him with big eyes before another one lands on your nose. You can’t help but smile softly, feeling his hands traveling down under the skirt of your babydoll. You are surprised that it is still intact at this point. His rough fingertips graze over your sensitive folds while the other stops at the side of your clit while his lips make a trail of kisses on your shoulder. Your eyes close, body slumping against his as his left hand plays with your clit, careful enough to not put much pressure on it. His other seems to only play with your wetness, scooping it up before he pulls his hand back to only press it at your virgin hole.

You don’t feel your body repulsing this foreign touch, only welcoming it as the finger slowly dips inside of you, you melting at the pleasure from your stimulated bundle of nerves. You hear a small curse behind you, the man mumbling into your skin. “Is she tight, hyung?” Asks Seungmin who now sat on the couch behind you, lazily stroking himself.

“Yeah–“ He groans at your moan as his other finger joins the first. His hand leaves your pussy to fondle your breast and you sigh again relief of finally getting some stimulation there. His thumb and forefinger twist your nipple just right, hips rolling back on his fingers. Every passing moment makes you hungry for more, bouncing yourself slightly on his digits. “That didn’t take long–“ He teases, already back to his cheeky self.

Your hole is left gaping open as he withdraws from you and you are already whining in annoyance, turning around to look at him, only seeing him stand up to his feet. You finally take a small glimpse at his manhood, hanging heavily between his legs. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Your eyes widened, glancing at Seungmin who caught your oogling.

He gestures with his hand to come sit on top of him where he lays on the couch. You decided it is far easier just to crawl over to him, knowing your shaky legs would immediately gave up on you. A low hiss comes from Chan’s lips from the beautiful view, he already has a idea about which position he wants you in and he definitely isn’t the only one as the long haired man next to him furrows his eyebrows.

You crawl up the couch, legs on each side of the blonde’s hips, gasping at the way he looks underneath you. You are shoved into his chest by the older, chest pressed against Seungmin’s, his tip just at your entrance. You moan in relief as his long cock enters you, immediately clenching down on him when you again feel fingers at your other hole. The one under you starts to bounce you back and forth on him, every time you would go back it only makes the fingers go deeper inside your ass.

It so good but so much, you have never felt so full till you feel Minho replace his fingers with his cock. “Relax for us, kitty–“ His hand pushes your lower back down, making you arch more for him. Your heart beats so fast you could feel it in your throat.

Cursing your head rolls back as he pushes in slowly, rubbing soft circles on your clit. Seungmin stopped all together to let you get used to being drilled by two cocks at the same time. The stretch is big but thanks to Minho prepping you, it doesn’t hurt as much, only you feel slightly uncomfortable by the fullness. Now you feel full, completely stuffed to the brim as the older buries himself inside you till his pubic bone is flush against your cheeks. The two of them groan as they could feel each other through the thin layer of your insides.

How are you still conscious is a mystery but you couldn’t simply let yourself miss the feeling of them finally moving. Seungmin pushes you down on his cock like his own personal fleshlight, Minho snapping himself back into your tight ass creating a mind blowing rhythm. “Wait isn’t this too much for her?” Gasps out your boyfriend, eyes wide set on where you are being stuffed.

“Is it?” Wonders Seungmin, raising your head from his chest to show everyone your tears of pleasure.

“No! Keep going pleaseee–“ They can’t stop when you’re feeling like this but to your delight they could never possibly stop as this is even for them the most pleasure they have ever felt in their life.

Your breath is knock out of you every time either of them buries themselves in to you and you can’t help your hips from bouncing off their cocks. Seungmin lets you move on your own, biting his lip at the way you sigh into his mouth. Minho also is completely mesmerized by your smooth moves, eyes set on the way your ass recoils on him. You have no clue about how much you have them all wrapped around your little finger.

A drool drips down your chin, wetting Seungmin’s shirt and some even lands on his own lips but your mouth doesn’t hang open for to long as he shoves his two fingers into it. Moan vibrates your tongue that is pressed down by his long fingers. You probably look so messy right now but you don’t care at all as the inside of your tummy is basically on fire. You rarely cum without your clit being stimulate, it always feels weird and you were too scared to let go. You whine out, so close to your peak but yearning for the extra touch. Your eyes open, landing on your boyfriend still in the loveseat. “Lixie, I gonna cuuum–“ You sound desperate and he knows by the tone of your voice that you even by being fucked by two men at the same time, you need something on your precious, puffy, little clit

A hand on your hair, tugging you up, makes you squeal. “Don’t look at him, you slut–“

“–look at us when we are gonna make you cum.” Finishes the man under you, his own voice at edge and you could also feel the one behind you shaking in his nearing orgasm.

Fuck, you can’t take this anymore…you’ve become completely dumb on their cocks. “Please!” They don’t ask what to your surprise because they are themselves right at the edge and also they don’t even need to ask because they just know and then a nasty slap lands on your pussy. The sound echoes through the room, ringing in your ears as you finally fall apart.

The first one to cum after you is Minho, already edging himself multiple of times but nobody has to know that. Your tight hole is just as good as your gushing cunt. He cums into you, not even asking for permission because he just knows that’s what you want the most. Soon after that is Seungmin the one cumming, small cry leaving him as his legs slightly shake when he raises his hips into you.

You three stay there, totally spend and you can’t help the drunk, smile falling over your bitten lips. The older pull his softening cock out of you cursing as his release mixes with his friend’s who’s cock hangs down against your pussy. The fingers in your hanging open mouth also leaves you, only to travel down your body to scoop up the mixes of your releases and put them back into your mouth. “We don’t want to waste anything, do we?” He smirks, only to moan with you as you suck on his fingers, making him pull you down to kiss you.

“Holy shit.” Is whispered, your eyes falling to Jeongin who quickly looks away from your sinful state.

The two men push themselves away from you, falling to the floor with their cocks still hanging out. You on the other hand fall face first into the couch, body completely filled with ecstasy. You could feel Minho’s cum falling down to your other hole, squeezing your legs together to possibly safe the already ruined cushion. The one thing which safes the material a little are fingers, the touch making you turn your head.

Your face forms into wanting as you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, painted softly with some eyeliner, making him even more beautiful. His long hair hangs over his eyes, pink, full lips licking away the substance on his fingers. You moan at that, clenching around nothing. The was so erotic, even Han is sighing in delight. “You look so good…” You flush under his burning stare, completely mesmerized by his beauty.

He looks at you like something out off this word, falling to his knees to take your head into his hands. “I wish to paint you like this.” If it’s even possible anymore, you become even more shy under his gaze. “But right now I only want to taste you–“

You gasp again, like the hundredth time in this day. You are suddenly rolled over onto your back, him pulling you down the couch so he could kneel before your cunt. You are surprised by his strength slightly but looking at his arms, you realize where he gets it from. You’re shocked that he wants to eat you out. Guys normally would be disgusted by the sight of someone else’s cum not to mention licking it all up after. Hyunjin however sees something so beautiful about this, you, a symbol of pleasure and being painted by someone’s else immense pleasure that only you are capable of giving.

He looks so pretty, it makes you shy about being so closely inspected by him. His eyes flicker to yours, glancing at you from beneath his eyelashes. He holds the eye contact even when licking a long stripe up your pussy. You are so sensitive there that you feel like you’re cumming again, legs shaking around his head. When you with using all of your last sanity look at others, you moan at their faces of shock and arousal.

You whimper, thinking and now seeing how they are all so comfortable together, it makes you feel safe. Felix is too but you could feel small jealousy radiating from him as he is glaring at his best friend devouring your pussy. The funny thing is that seeing Hyunjin being so invested in your scent, makes him twitch more. You must say you’re impressed that he is still clothed, though both hands squeezing himself to relief some of the tension.

“Come here, Innie–“ Says the long haired man, pulling from you for just a second before pushing his whole nose into you back again. If you thought Han was messy you are now proved wrong. Maybe it is becomes of waiting for so long for his own turn with you but the way you and his friends’ cum taste together makes his cock push painfully against his pants.

Jeongin jumps almost at the sound of his name, wide eyed. You watch him with your hooded eyes how he stands up with a shaky breath, stalking slowly to you. Does he not want you? You think it is perfectly fine if not but you still feel a small stab in your heart. Your hand shoots out to grab Hyunjin’s hair and making your wetness smear all over his face. He only moans in delight at the tug, sucking and slurping you all up.

Frowning, your head rolls to the side where the other sits down. His hands keep playing with the denim on his thighs, face flushed deep red. “What’s wrong?“ You asked quietly, he looks at you, jumping from your voice. You can’t make out his expression clearly but his eyes seem to keep glancing down when suddenly the man under you pulls away.

“Need your fingers–“ Whines out Hyunjin, smacking his lips and licking at them to get every last drop of you.

The words are meant for the quiet guy with ginger hair. He looks spooked slightly at his friend’s request but shuffles down nonetheless. The older of the bunch pulls his own fingers to your cunt but eyes are set dead on his close friend who almost drools at the sight.

“Watch.”

And the younger does exactly that for the first time in the now evening, stares at your body and at Hyunjin’s middle and ringfinger disappearing inside you. You mewl in oversensitivity, putting your manicured nails in your mouth and biting down on them. He moves his fingers slowly but still it is delicious, your stretched out cunt clamping on them as they reach the deepest parts of you. “Juuust like this–“ He exclaims, glancing at you before looking back at Jeongin who watches closely. “You want to make her fall apart, right?”

He at that glances at your face before stopping momentarily on your tits, nodding. He is pulled away from his racing thoughts when his friend grabs his hand. “Your turn…” Jeongin breathes out shakily, nodding away as Hyunjin pulls his hand to your hole.

You are not blind, you obviously have seen how long his fingers are. So slim and pretty, with veins and rings decorating them. When he finally touches you, he can’t help but let his lips part at how soft and wet you are. Circling your entrance, his friend couldn’t take it anymore for both of your sakes, wrapping his hand around his friend’s to make his fingers fill you up. Both of you gasp, you from you much longer they truly are and him at how your gummy walls sucked him right in.

They both let you get used to them before it is again Hyunjin who makes the next move. “Move your fingers like this…that’s right, back and forth–“ You can’t even imagine how long his cock must be when only his fingers are already kissing at your cervix. “–scissor them…” Jeongin’s eyes keep glancing between you and his friend’s fingers who held them up in the air for him to see what to do. He does a good job, he thinks, seeing your hooded eyes as he scissors his long fingers like said. “–to stretch her out….not like she needs it–“ Laughs Hyunjin as you only whimper in embarrassment. “–then you’re gonna curl them–“ A loud moan leaves you as Jeongin’s does that, legs shaking, feet digging into the couch. “…till you find her spot.”

The coppery blonde doesn’t take his eyes from where he is fucking you with his fingers. He hits the gummy spot dead on, pressing into it slightly, the older helping him to move his hand back and forth. “Faster–“ Hyunjin’s gasp mixes with yours, griping his friend’s hand tightly. “–don’t move the tips of your fingers away from the spot.” He orders, the younger one nodding.

Now on his own, he slides closer to you, face almost touching your pussy from how close he is. It makes your stomach flip from the way his big eyes, almost innocently watch how your juices are being pushed back inside of you. “I said faster.” Warns the other, not liking how Jeongin seem to go easy on you.

“I-I don’t want to hurt her…” Finally speaks up the youngest, voice small and fingers momentarily stilling in you.

Hyunjin scoffs. “She literally had two cocks rearranging her guts, there’s no way you could hurt her and she seems to only wait for you to go faster–“ His hand grasps his wrist, hold tight. “–so go fucking faster.” He growls, taking his surprise to pick up the pace of his fingers.

Your right leg falls from the couch, thankfully the older one catching it, wrapping it around his shoulder because you become a moaning mess. You don’t even think Hyunjin is now controlling the movements, his hand loosening around the other’s wrist. Jeongin surprises you by curling his fingers even more, pace so brutally fast that your wetness lands on his black shirt. The painter only gives you more pleasure when his free hand presses onto your lower stomach with a shit eating grin. You can’t help but to glance down at Jeongin who licks his lips at your intoxicating smell, his head on the inside of your thigh, nose almost touching your clit.

You keep gasping for air, feeling too much of everything right now. You don’t know what to do with your trembling body as his pace doesn’t seem to quiver even a little bit. He held his fingers curled, hooking into your spot as he suddenly only pushes there. He doesn’t even move them out of you, pushing nearly painfully into your spot. The palm on your tummy presses down more and you think you could feel the fingers in your throat. “Wait! It feels weird!–“ Something completely new starts to bubble inside you, uncontrollably shaking as you try to keep yourself up.

“Let it happened.”

You can’t fight it, so you do exactly that. For a moment you only see black before a wave of sheer pleasure washes over you that seems never stopping. In horror you watch yourself squirt all over Jeongin’s fingers, face and upper body, soaking even Hyunjin in it. You try to stop but you simply couldn’t. It was too good and you literally had no control over your body. Your juices squirt out of you again, leaking out with the mixed cum that was till now drilled deep inside of you. “Fuck stop!” You scream, tugging at your own hair.

The older has to shove the younger away from your squirting pussy. “Holy fuck, I knew it–“ Says Hyunjin to himself, hand around his friend’s shoulder while looking at your slowly calming down body. Jeongin can’t help but marvel over his own hand, tongue already licking off your wetness from his face. You feel like on cloud nine, you can’t even imagine how that must have looked to them. Crossing your legs, you try to sit up on your elbows.

Felix couldn’t believe what just happened as well as others, the raging jealousy however slowly dies down as he realizes something while you’re tugged down the couch by his best friend. Yes, he is mad that he was not the one to fuck your ass first and also never making you nor seeing you orgasm like that before but can he truly be mad? His friends showed him a new side of you and they only brought you pleasure so far, so there’s that.

“I can’t–“ You gasp, as you are placed between the legs of the sitting singer.

“You know what to say if you need us to stop.” Says Hyunjin into your ear, placing himself behind you. You shut up at that making him chuckle evily. “What a whore, don’t you agree, Jeongin?”

The named boy who has you on your knees before him looks challenged, not knowing what to answer. “Don’t act innocent, Innie–“ Spoke up, Minho, making you turn your head back at him, cooing at Han who is curled up to his side. “–you literally can’t keep your eyes off her tits.“

You tilt your head back up to look at him and to your surprise you do catch him staring at your tits that were still out of your bra, covered in slowly drying cum. “You like her tits, huh?” Says Hyunjin, pulling you back to his chest to give the younger a better look at them. “Can’t say I disagree but I thought you would be more of an ass guy…” Jeongin keeps quiet, eyes going now everywhere but you — oh…he is shy. And his friend is only trying to help him loosen up a little and have some fun.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts as hands grabbed a handful of your breast. The man behind you fondles them, thumbs rubbing at your swollen nipples, making you mewl. Hyunjin smashes them together roughly, his cock already pressed between your ass cheeks. God, he felt long and thick, you can’t wait for him to fuck you. You wonder how did your stamina suddenly become so high but the thought of having the most beautiful people fuck you, kept you going. “Can you imagine fucking them?” He can’t help but groan himself at the lewd words.

Jeongin looks away completely, cheeks flaming red. “You already did…” Hyunjin puts his lips to your ear, hot breath fanning over it, making shivers run down your spine. “What do you think baby, might let his dream come true?” Felix can’t help but gasp at the nickname and you also.

The hands on your beast travel down your waist, fingers pressing into the skin. “But let’s get them nice and wet for him first, yeah?” He turns you quickly around at that and your eyes widened at his exposed chest. When did his shirt come off? You’re definitely not complaining, drooling only at the sight of his happy trail that you have seen too many times by his shirt always riding up when he would dance. It is your weakness.

His lips caught your left nipple, sucking at it roughly, him letting his saliva flow free out of his mouth. His teeth nibble at your areola, making you hiss in pain, him soothing it by his fingers rolling over your other nipple. You gasp at the big purple spot left behind when he pulls away to only suck at the other. He does that couple of times to get your buds nicely red and swollen before licking between your tits. Is it really licking? Because he is basically only drooling on your skin. You can’t help but jump as smashes your tits together and only to spit on them. “Fuck, you’re perfect — so fucking perfect.” Hyunjin mumbles, the words running through your whole body. He lets spit drip from his bottom lip, tongue then hanging out and completely covering you in the liquid. You can’t help but look down, whimpering at the blotches, red nipples all glistening and you also realize he slurped all of his friend’s cum off you.

You yelp as he manhandles you, turning you back around, the movements so smooth, your heart skips a beat. “Ask him if he agrees.” You whimper at the rough tug at your nipple, glossy eyes meeting Jeongin’s.

His eyes were dark but still his hands nervously played with his jeans and you couldn’t possible miss the tent in them. “Do you like it?” Hyunjin smacks you across your right ass cheek, telling you to try better. “Do you like my tits, Innie?” Your eyes hazy, looking into his, you suddenly feel something go over you at his all cute state. “I want you to fuck them, Jeongin. Fuck my tits–“ You whimper, your own hands fondling your breast.

You hear a small gasp behind you but your attention is only him as he slowly, barely nods his head. You take that as a sign to unbuckle his jeans but as you almost pull the rough material down, you’re pulled back by your hair, back arching as you feel Hyunjin positioning himself behind you. “Don’t forget about me, now.” He ends his statement by taping his fat tip on your clit. All of this is a dream come true — they are literally all so perfect. You surprise him by pulling him in for a messy kiss, teeth clashing together as he moans at your tongue wrapping around his. His lips were like heaven, so soft and yet sinful.

He puts you back to your place, making your ass flush against his stomach while you come back to your task of removing this offending piece of clothing from Jeongin. His hands grab yours not to stop you but only to help you and you’re happy that he can at least show you just a little that he wants this as much as you. Maybe his heavily rising chest is also a giveaway. Your hips buckle back at the other as he coats his cock in your wetness, your eyes however are at the bare one before you. You thought you might’ve strip him down accidentally of his underwear all together also but oh, he is so dirty for walking around like this — you wonder how his baggy jeans could hide him.

His dick was so fucking pretty. Long and the right girth, clean shaved, tip slightly glistening from the precum and balls heavy, waiting for any sort of relief. Your hands fall to his thighs, squeezing the muscle that jumps as a reaction at your touch. You want him everywhere but now even to you, your breast seems to be the only thing on both of yours minds. You kind of wished for some lube but there’s nothing you couldn’t do with your mouth, making you shuffle to him closer to grab him in your hand.

You went to pump him, only being stop at the feeling of the cock slowly breaching your pussy. You’re thankful for Hyunjin’s thoughtfulness of not going in to hard, giving you space for you to also pleasure his friend. He really doesn’t mind it as he is looking over your shoulder when you pull the tip closer to your mouth. Jeongin’s hand flies immediately to his mouth as you take him halfway, keeping your mouth open for the simple reason of completely covering him in your saliva.

Hyunjin circles his hips into you, keeping a slow pace as you drown his friend in your spit. The liquid travels down Jeongin’s balls, him trying so hard to keep quiet at your moments. His hips though hump the air when you suddenly pull your mouth away from him. “Come closer–“ You gasp, grabbing at his legs. He without a second thought, shuffles closer to the edge while you pull your arms up to grab his hips.

That move makes the other go deeper inside of you, momentarily rolling your hips back at him because it was just too good. Hyunjin’s eyes are already at the sight before him, his own hands coming to lay over yours before traveling them to your tits which he pushes up. With a sharp snap of his, your upper body lands on to the lap of the youngest, the dancer pulling your breast at each side of his cock.

You three moan, you putting in your own strength to smash your breast tighter around Jeongin. You don’t even have to move as the oldest basically got a hold of this whole situation by his thrusts. The sounds are even louder and more lewd by it being right under your nose, watching with glassy eyes at the disappearing and appearing tip between your tits. Thank the fuck, Hyunjin is being the one in control because the way his balls slap at every harsher snap of his hips on your clit, makes your whole body become jello. You let your tongue hang out, occasionally the tip flickering over Jeongin, him jumping at the stimulation. He looks like he could cry, biting at his fingers so much they are basically in his mouth, shaking at the way the still tasted and smelled like you.

Hyunjin puts one his hands on you ass cheek, kneading it between his fingers and the other goes to your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you…made for all of us to use–“ You moan, clenching around him, making him hiss. “Look at how our Innie’s enjoying it.” He whispers in your ear, tilting your head back to look at his friend. “He definitely is thinking about your sweet little pussy—how you feel, fuuuuck–“ Whimpering, you glance at him, faces so close you could see the little mole under his eye. “Our sweet, little Innie might not seem like it but he’s the nasty type.” Hyunjin’s thrusts become faster, deeper, the more he speaks. “So fucking nasty—he likes it nasty and wet…let’s make it wet for him, y-yeah?”

You nod, eyes rolling back inside your head as you squeeze your hands tighter. Your own hips start to meet Hyunjin’s trusts, him now completely at your mercy as he nears his end. The hand on your waist pinches you, loud whimper falling from him, legs shaking behind yours as he stuffs you full with his load. A small sighs fly out of him, completely different from what you have heard before, wondering if you could make him release these kinds of noises more often in the possible future.

Pulling out of you, he smacks your ass quickly, encouraging you to hop to your feet and only to land on his friend’s lap. Jeongin looks a little spooked out from the quick series of events, only now seeing the mischief in both of yours eyes. He can’t help but to sigh out at the sight of you on his lap, tits at the level of his eyes. He can’t believe he got to fuck them, a little sad that it stopped right as he was almost at his own peak but nonetheless excited to have more from you.

Your cunt to be exact. Your hips raise to grab his cock, siting down on it so none of the fresh cum could go to waste. Kind of a bad idea as your hips slightly jump back up as he only hits your cervix painfully. You whimper quietly into his shoulder as he sat there under you with mouth hanged open and head over the couch. You bounce slowly on top of him first, just the half of him before you could finally take him whole.

Behind your fucked out state, you frown at the way he is trying so hard to keep quiet. It looked like it hurt, his eyebrows pulled together at the deep concentration of not making a sound. You grasp his hands which till now layed alone by his side, putting them on your tits. That did it for him, finally looking at you. You don’t even think he is realizing that the way he is looking at you makes you all giddy inside. He is staring at your breast like they are the best thing he has ever seen, drooling in his head at the way they look in his own hands.

He cups the underside of your boobs, keeping them freely bouncing in the air from your moves. Moaning you just have to lift the bottom of his shirt slightly to have a look at his lean, toned body. Finally he is seeing how much he makes you feel, making him feel better about his image. But he can’t never tell anyone about the small crush he has on you…

“Y/N…” He calls out to you.

You gasp at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “Innie…” He whimpers, the noise leaving him on accident but you only quicken your movements. That makes him moan more and more before he has to pull your lips to his to silence them as he surprises you by cumming inside of you. His grip is strong, nearly painful but completely unseen as you stare wide eyed at the boy under you, crying at the feeling of your walls milking him dry.

“I’m sorry–“ He mumbles into your hair, cringing at the way his cum leaks out of you and down to his balls.

“Don’t say that I fucking love it.” You say, making him look at you in amazement. He kisses you softly at your words, a small smile falling over his lips and you can’t help but do the same.

You basically had to fight Jeongin to pull out of you. You could already feel his soft cock, hardening again and as much as you would like to give him another go there is still one left…fuck. Maybe you should’ve let the boy cockwarm you because the piercing and intimidating stare makes you want to curl up into a ball. You lay on the couch on your side, eyes skimming the men that already had their go and also your boyfriend, sitting there with glassy eyes of complete arousal, before they stop at the leader. Menspreading into those tight, black jeans of his is making you physical shudder, licking your lips at his toned chest peaking from the sides of his tank top. It should be illegal to look this good while simply sitting. Was your brain completely fucked out of you?

“Do you still want me?” He asks, looking down at your body. “Don’t want to hurt you, doll–“ He is asking for permission, yes but why does he have to use such a nickname, it only makes you want him more, dodging his question completely.

Of course you do, such a stupid question. He sits there waiting for your answer, not trusting himself by going closer to you. You are too pretty for your own good and the beautifully ruined state you’re in makes him absolutely feral. He always thought that it was wrong to even have a small thought about how you looked while getting fucked by Felix. That guy was so fucking lucky and he has to wonder how he bagged you because he would always say some ridiculously awkward pick up lines. Pick up lines he, the leader, gave him but he maybe is forgetting about how dominanting you can get. You just liked being used and pillow princess was sometimes too big of a fun. You can handle way more than you look and you already proved it to him tonight, he just wants to hear it from your own lips.

“I do, please Channie–“ You say, hands gripping the couch. “–come closer.”

He has to calm himself down a little at your sultry voice, not wanting to look like an idiotic schoolboy around his friends. He slowly stands up, jeans wrapping around the obvious bulge in them and stalking to you with hard stare. You would really like to say you’re switch but something about his whole aura makes you feel small and fragile. As Chan stands before you, towering over your quivering body, your eyes drift back to his crotch. Even from the material blocking your view you know he’s huge and you wonder how he could hide it in those tight jeans.

He makes you almost purr as he brushed his fingers through your hair softly, untangling the strands. “Get on my lap…” Your heart skips a beat as he sits down at the corner of the couch. You sit up to climb into his inviting lap but you’re stop with a hand in the air. “Back facing me.” You bit your lip at that.

Turning around you shuffle teasingly back onto his lap as he places his legs on the couch. You cage his legs with your knees, sitting down, your ass right at his bulge. You gasp at the feeling of the rough material grazing over you, pushing yourself down on it, rolling your ass back at him. He stops your movements with his strong grip at your ass. “Who said you could do that?”

You stay silent, frozen. You didn’t expect the nasty smack on your ass. “Ah! I-I am sor-ry?” You say back as another one lands, even harder than the first one.

His hand massages the red skin, marveling over your body. “Good girl.” Chan murmures back at you, showing you that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. “You want my cock, princess?” You nod, slightly ashamed at feeling your pussy dripping, soaking him.

Smack!

“Yes! I want your c-cock…” You clench over nothing, buckling your hips against him. He groans at your words, fingers tapping at your skin to gesture for you to slightly lift yourself up so he could finally release himself.

The thing you feel next makes you shiver. His cock smacks free over your pussy and your eyes can’t help but widen at the heaviness of it. You glance back, mouth open as you look at his massive cock. You don’t think he can possibly fit…The man could see the nerves all over your face, his own slightly red in embarrassment. He takes your expression as a good one but he is also slightly nervous while staring down where you two are the closest.

His cock is hovering over your cunt and both of you could see how deep it will go inside you. You nod your head back at him, giving a sign to go in. Backing up, you in experiment grind down on it, both of you moaning at the feeling. The prominent vein that leads to his mushroom tip, bumbs into your clit. “Fuck, gonna ride me? Gonna ride this cock, babygirl, you’re so fucking soft–“ Chan grabs the base of his cock, helping you sit up.

You cry out at just his tip, pussy lips swallowing it eagerly. He was so fucking thick—you realize that Jeongin was only preparing you for the bigger deal but it still stretched you out. “There, there I know–I knoooow–“ Hissing at the way you clench down at just his tip, he gives you some time to get used to him.

It didn’t take that long, maybe because you are simply too hungry for him. Carefully you move up and down his tip, each move making him go deeper into you. “You’re so big–“ You whimper, your hands on his knees balancing you, trembling.

“Taking me so good…look at that–“ The leader says to himself mostly, eyes barely open but still plastered on the way you swallow him more and more.

You fall over slightly when you finally sit down on his cock. You could feel him poking your tummy, the tension on your cervix deliciously painful. You both try to catch your breath from your walls squeezing down on him, staying there panting in this position for some time. Chan was always so sweet and shy when you would give him a compliment, blushing furiously while he could literally at the same time split you in half with his cock. It made you so mad for some reason so you — oh, you will give it to him good. Or will he?

You do surprise him by immediately pushing your hips up and then back down hard on him. He puffs out air, hands flying to hold your hips. He just leaves them there, too occupied of looking at your jiggling skin and your hole swallowing him. You don’t even know what kind of sounds you are making, the only thing on your mind is him. He can’t help but wonder of the fuck Jeongin didn’t cum immediately from your smooth moves. You were literally made for riding cock. He needed this so fucking bad, the stress of the new comeback basically controlling his whole body is now gone, out of the window. It also was so long since he got such a good pussy like yours, or any at that factor.

He almost forgot about his plan, laying there completely at your mercy. Chan’s mind then fills with imagines of maybe other positions he would like to see you in. So many and he almost cries at the thought of not trying at least one of them. He hopes this really isn’t the last time to get you like this. He in fact enjoys seeing his band members finally loosing up and you don’t seem to be displeasured by being used like a fuckdoll. His imagines the way he would fuck you into the couch, leaving you completely dumb and he just had to sit up, cock still in you and press your face into the cushion.

A long whine leaves you as he presses your face down, holding your hips with his other hand and drilling roughly into you. You sob at the feeling of him in your stomach, he immediately pulling your head to the side. “Col-“

“Green! Fucking green!” You scream, shaking at his thrusts. Looking back at him with your glassy eyes you even make him go harder. “Please…” You say quietly. “Please-“

He leans over you, chest against your back. “What was that?” There was a small cocky tone in his voice.

“Please, make me cum–“ You are already so close but you still need the extra push, even if you are basically gasping for air. “…please, daddy, make me cum.”

“Fuck me…”

He groans, hips jumping at that. He doesn’t miss the lazy smile on your lips that is wiped off by his palm on your clit. “Fucking cum–soak daddy’s cock, baby girl–“ You sob, tears falling down your face when he suddenly moves his palm from side to side, roughly bumping on to your clit.

You don’t even make a sound, mouth hanging open as you squirt all over his cock. He doesn’t stop, only fucking you through it and making a complete mess out of you, just like he wanted. “Just a little longer, baby girl…” You try to keep yourself up but only failing at the rough thrusts, falling face first into headrest of the couch. He pulls his hand away from you but as he is still drilling himself into you. It feels like a never ending orgasm.

Suddenly you feel hand caressing your cheek, eyes glassy, you look up, only to come face to face with your boyfriend. You two share a look, emotions swirling in your eyes but then the leader pull you two out of it by surprising you with wrapping his hand around your throat, making you tilt your head back, seeing him upside down. “Chan, I think it’s already too much for her–“ The next thing that the named man does will be forever imprinted in your mind.

Chan doesn’t let Felix finish his words, scooping up your juices with his fingers before shoving them into your boyfriend’s mouth. The blonde moans around his friend’s fingers in complete shock, finally getting his well deserved taste of you. You gasp, choking around the hand blocking your airways. When Felix sucks down on his fingers that does it for Chan. With last snap of his hips he fills you up to the brim, sighing, groaning, almost hiccuping at the feeling.

He pulls his hand away from your throat only to pull you up to smash your lips to his. “Fuck. you’re amazing…” You whine into him as it only makes him go deeper into you. Your boyfriend pulls his friend’s fingers out of his mouth slowly, looking at the sight before him with big eyes.

The leader slowly realizes the glances you keep stealing at your boyfriend while caressing your body softly, giving you a one last kiss before pushing you up to pull his cock out of you. You whimper at the lost of contact and at the cum falling onto the couch, you definitely need a new one.

Felix is there to caught you in his arms, before you could fall over, slowly lowering your body to lay down. “You did so good, I’m so so so lucky to have you…” He says to you sweetly, you smiling in return but your eyes can’t help but to travel to the obvious stain at his sweatpants.

You look at him with a small teasing smile, him laughing sheepishly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispers to you and you feel like crying of joy at his words, emotions all over the place.

“I love you too.” You croak out, leaning into his touch, completely exhausted.

He immediately rubs at your shoulder, warming up your cold skin, body wet from a mix of spit and cum, making you shiver. “Let me clean you up.” Felix says, before hearing his friends’ shuffling behind him.

“We can do that…” Minho says, looking down at you two and your lovesick faces. His eyes travel down the blonde’s body, nodding. “–while you clean yourself up…or do you also want help with that?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at that remark, wanting nothing more than to wipe his friend’s smirk off his face. His cheeks are on fire but he probably should get clean first before taking care of you because you will need more that.

That statement stays. All of them took their own turn of wiping any residue of what happened off you and out of you. They even dressed you in some more comfortable clothes, your brand new babydoll basically needing bleach after and your panties mysteriously went missing. You were taken care of, cleaned up, dressed and even fed with food because you were too tired to that on your own. You don’t even know how you end up falling asleep mid bite of the takeout you all ordered but you know you were laying on your boyfriend’s chest while some of his friends layed next to you, cuddling you, the ones who didn’t have any place left for them to do that at least touching you in some sort of way, completely drowning you in their warmness and kindness.

Everything made you closer to them. In some way or another, heightening your friendship into something more stronger and intimate. But you still couldn’t help but wonder…was it really your boyfriend’s birthday or yours after all?

[jaylver]

LOVE AT FIRST SPEED — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: World champion, record breaker, winner of hundreds of races, what does Lee Heeseung want other than that? Apparently, love. Being the greatest when it comes to racing doesn't mean that he naturally has a flourishing love life. True, there were many girls already lining up for him, but he knew none of them were truly sincere, leaving him devoid of love and unconditionally craving it. That was until everything changed when he met you, his new next door neighbour that doesn’t even know he’s a famous F1 racer. Three dates. three different countries, but only one chance to make you his.

OR! in which a world champion tries scoring the girl next door.

presenting ... driver of scuderia ferrari f1 team

PAIRINGS: F1 driver!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers/neighbours to lovers, love at first sight, he falls first but she falls harder, formula one au, sports au, romance, angst

WARNING(S): profanities, mentions of alcohol, drinking and partying, lots of feelings being self questioned, slight miscommunications/misunderstandings

WC: 29k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's finally ... here ... please leave your feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated !! your feedbacks will mean a lot to me since i'm lowkey second guessing if this is good LMAO enjoy ♡

part 1 of 'no brakes' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2024 all rights reserved.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, LATE 2022

Lee Heeseung was drunk.

Going out with the boys was probably a mistake. Look, it was off season and everyone was back in Monaco, so it definitely sounded like a great idea to go out for a night out, right? Wrong. 

Letting Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Yeonjun and some of the other drivers drag him to a well known club in the city was his first mistake of the night. The second was accepting all of the shots they offered, acting as if the celebrations of him winning his third world championship wasn’t over yet. The alcohol that took over his senses only made him stumble to the dance floor, dancing wildly with girls surrounding him, not giving a care if a camera was capturing everything. That was his third mistake.

By the end of the night, every one of them were equally shitfaced. It wasn’t a great look, and he was sure their personal trainers weren’t going to be happy at all. Heeseung, in particular, was taking it better than the rest, though still slurring and stumbling around, at least he managed to tell his address fully to the taxi driver. 

Getting dropped off at the lobby looking absolutely destroyed was humbling. He kept his head low, reminding himself that he had a reputation to maintain and went for the elevator, pressing the number of his floor. He was leaning against the wall, holding it for support as he slowly sobered up, trying his best to feel around his body for his keycard.

“Fuck,” he cursed out, unable to remember where it was with that hazy mind of his. 

The elevator stopped at his floor with a ‘ding’, grabbing his attention from his ongoing search for the moment. He trudged along the quiet hallway, dragging his feet and mumbling his regrets. One thing’s for sure was that he should not rely on Jake for claiming it was a ‘light party’. Light party my ass.

Standing in front of his door to the apartment, he was dying to get in and crash into his comfortable bed. However, he remembered what he was struggling to find: his keycard. God, why me, he thought. 

His head was beginning to spin and it was not helping. He was slipping his hand into his back pockets, shirt pockets that didn’t even exist because he’s wearing a button up, then his socks, which was absolutely insane. No, Lee Heeseung was turning insane. At one point, he let out a sigh and leaned his head on his door, swearing that he was about to collapse out of fatigue.

“Uh—are you okay?” Was that a voice coming from the pits of his head? It couldn’t be, it was a woman’s voice. “Mister?”

Heeseung turned around in a blink of an eye, almost letting out a yelp in shock when his eyes landed on you. Even in his drunken daze, he was still able to make out how pretty you were. There you were, standing in a party dress that was enough to tell him you were out clubbing too, makeup that was intact and heels in one hand, creating a small height difference between him and you.

“Huh?” That was probably the dumbest thing he could let out at that moment. Wake up, he cursed at himself. “You’re not that old lady,”

“She moved away,” you guessed he was referring to the old lady that sold you her apartment, the one that was next to this … guy. “I’m guessing you were not here a few months ago to even realise I’m your new neighbour?”

Well, no, Heeseung was busy winning his championship in Abu Dhabi during then. 

He didn’t say that though, instead he shrugged, liking the fact that you were oblivious he was someone well known. “I travel for work, so not really. My apologies,”

“I see,” you nodded your head, continuously cautious, he could see that. “Do you have trouble entering your own home?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You were searching for something—even in your socks,”

“Oh,” he licked his lips, currently embarrassed. “I—uh—don’t know where my keycard is,”

“Have you searched your pockets?”

“Yes,”

“Wallet?”

Heeseung paused. “No …”

“Try searching, I’m sure it’s there somewhere,” you were so confident in saying that, which made Heeseung uneasy and doubtful. How would you know it was there and he didn’t? 

You pulled out your own keycard, pressing against the sensor and your door unlocked with a click, but before you went in and left Heeseung behind, you scrunch your nose up. “You should probably sober up … and also wash away the perfumes on your shirt. It’s heavy,”

Once you shut your door, Heeseung scoffed. He lowered his head to the sleeves of his button up shirt and inhaled, the smell of perfumes from the girls he danced with clung to the fabric desperately. He hated that you weren’t completely wrong. Then, he reached for his wallet, rolling his eyes at your voice in his head, but was once proven right again when he saw his glistening keycard there. For fuck’s sake.

Now, he was guessing he probably set a bad impression on you, making you think he was some stupid womaniser. Gosh, the way your eyes narrowed at him was burnt into his mind. 

Heeseung was not getting much sleep that night.

“Slept well?”

Fate had a play in hand, somehow setting Heeseung and you up by having the both of you exiting your apartment at the same time. The only difference was you being fresh and awake, ready to start your day while Heeseung was the total opposite. Hungover, body sore and dark circles under his eyes.

“Great,” he seethed out. 

No, Heeseung didn’t have a ‘great’ sleep. He was plagued by you. Yes, you. The neighbour that he didn’t even know existed until yesterday, the same one that had to witness him drunk and turning insane. It was funny knowing you probably didn’t even like him, but somehow, that was what bothered Heeseung. Everyone liked him. But you, apparently, or so your vibe told.

“Someone didn’t have their lucky charms this morning, huh?” you reached into your tote bag, Heeseung’s curious gaze following your every move. “Here,” you tossed a protein bar at him, the same brand that he eats occasionally. What were the odds?

“Don’t just stare at it. Eat it.”

Apparently Heeseung was staring at it too longingly, and until he heard what you said, he snapped up to look at you, mouth slightly agape. “Thanks,”

You smiled. You fucking smiled. Heeseung didn’t expect your teeny smile was enough to spur him on. This was cheesy, too cliche and very predictable. Did he think he was in a reenactment of Notting Hill except it’s called Monte Carlo instead? The feeling of falling at first sight was foreign to him, to have a crush on your neighbour was new to him, and he wasn’t going to take this well.

“Eat up.” you waved a little, turning your back to him and rushed for the elevator, leaving him on his own again. 

The small encounter was enough to make Heeseung more curious about you. He knew nothing about you, you were his neighbour, his goddamn neighbour, but it felt like he was in high school with a crush again. Was it even a crush? Was it admiration? Heeseung didn't want to overthink it, it's too early in the morning for that.

He made his way to his sleek Ferrari 488 Pista Spider, the one car that he was devoted to. It was easily recognisable in the streets of Monaco, the design was a custom made and a favourite of his, any fans could make out that Lee Heeseung was the one driving it.

The usual bunch, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon had invited him out to brunch. Heeseung knew damn well all of them were just as hungover as he was, or even worse, he thought they were quite brave for stepping out of the house. 

Making a few detours for grocery and miscellaneous items prompted him to be later than the rest. He was rushing to the cafe, seeing the back of his friends' heads from a distance. They were sitting at an outside table, as they always preferred, but what caught his attention was an extra head next to Jake's blond hair.

Was that the girl who followed Jake home yesterday? He wouldn't even second question it.

He was wrong. 

Making his way to the table, Heeseung greeted them with a good morning before looking at their faces. Well, the boys looked like them, but the girl, oh … the girl.

It was you. His neighbour. What were you doing sitting next to Jake? Seriously, Jake?

“Hey, man, sorry for not letting you know earlier but I invited my friend, is that okay with you?” Jake grimaces apologetically, offering a smile as compensation.

“It's alright,” Heeseung stared briefly at you, then took a seat next to Jay, the one opposite that faced you.

“Heeseung, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Heeseung,” Jake did a gesture between you and Heeseung with his hands, while you and him both looked at each other with a 'what the fuck is going on' expression.

“Hi—”

“She's my next door neighbour,” Heeseung didn't know why he blurted that out, he didn't even let you finish. 

The boys and you stared at him, incredulous but to a different extent. You had annoyance in your eyes, the others had disbelief. Maybe you were mad he interjected, but he felt he needed to get that out. 

“Uh—sorry,”

“He's your neighbour?” Jake cackled, his gaze flickering between you and Heeseung. “No, wait, you're his neighbour?”

You and Heeseung nodded in unison.

“Which means you guys knew each other already?”

“Not exactly,” you said, sipping a little of your latte. “I didn’t know his existence until yesterday, let alone his name,”

“Ditto,”

“Wow,” Sunghoon laughed at the side, both him and Jay witnessing everything in entertainment.

“Shocking,” Jay nudged Sunghoon.

“You guys will get along better than you’ll expect,” Jake said coolly, speaking from a deep knowing of you and Heeseung’s personality traits. However, you and Heeseung seemed doubtful, but didn’t comment on it. 

“So … if they are F1 drivers, that means you are one too,” you pointed a finger at him, eyebrows raised in question. 

“Yup,” Heeseung replied, popping his ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Three times world champion too,” Jake jerked his chin towards Heeseung, a look of pride on his face. “He’s literally insane,”

“It’s nothing,” Heeseung suddenly felt like he was put on the spot. Usually, he would be immune to all these compliments thrown at him, but this time with you around, he wanted to be lowkey. 

“Did you hear him?” Jay scoffed, making the others, you and Heeseung himself included, laugh. 

The conversation was interrupted with the waiter serving your orders. Pastries, bread, and Heeseung’s go-to hangover cure, a mixed fruit smoothie were placed on the table. Soon, everyone got comfortable and dug in, enjoying the cool weather of Monte Carlo.

“What brings you here, Y/N?” Heeseung finally got the confidence to ask you a question, letting his curiosity win over him. 

“I moved here because of my new job—"

“Because of me,” Jake chimed in unceremoniously, catching everyone else's attention at the table. Now, what did he mean by that?

“Basically, Jake hired me as his personal trainer,”

“And assistant,” Jake added, increasing Heeseung’s fascination and wonder. Since when did Jake change his personal trainer? Oh wait, he mentioned it. Something about wife’s pregnancy that his ex trainer needed time off. How could Heeseung forget this crucial information? 

“I’m going to have to keep him in check every race,”

“We’re glad you’re coming along,” Sunghoon clapped his hands, genuine happiness in his smiley features. “It’s time someone put this guy in place,” he snorted, pulling a laugh out of you. 

Your laugh. All it took was your laugh for Heeseung to disassociate from everything happening around him and place his focus on you. The wrinkles around your eyes when your lips stretched into a grin, smile lines adorning your face that he found breathtaking. Every part about you and your happiness was enough to make him smile as well.

Pause. Was he hearing himself clearly? 

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” Jake rolled his eyes at Sunghoon, not appreciating the comment targeted at Jake’s known party behaviours.

“You know what I mean,” 

At that, Jake eyed you nervously, already having a feeling that you were going to be strict on him, rightfully so. Meanwhile, Heeseung was dying internally. He wanted to speak to you, but how was he able to when he wasn’t close to you? Instead, he was stuck with the two bozos, half-heartedly chewing on his croissant as he and the guys listened to you talk about your job and degree.

Whatever Heeseung thought possibly of you dissipated. The sharp gaze you gave him that night disappeared once he came to the realisation that you were nothing like what his mind made you out to be: scary and hard to get along with. Heeseung would admit, he makes the worst assumption of the people he first met, but some were true, as for you, you were nothing like that. He could tell you were warming up to him, probably also having the same misconception of him in your head. 

Once there were nothing but crumbs left on the plates, with the bill paid and everyone’s stomach filled, you and the guys got up from the table, making an exit. The awkward part arrived. Jay and Sunghoon were leaving on their own, Jake too, but what about you?

“Do you want me to drop you off—” Jake offered after Jay and Sunghoon were out of sight, leaving you, him waiting outside and Heeseung, who was still lingering in the cafe. You shook your head.

“You literally live on the opposite side of where I am, I don’t think that’s convenient,” you poked his shoulder, an unapproving frown pulled at your lips. “I’ll just hail a cab same like this morning,”

Clear worry was evident in Jake’s eyes. “You sure?”   

“I can drive you back,” Heeseung suddenly appeared by Jake's side, an innocent look on his face as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket. “We stay next to each other anyway,”

“Yeah, sure, thank you,” you breathed out in relief, initially being nervous at the thought of having to be alone, thankful Heeseung came in to save your ass.

“Now that’s settled, I’ll see you for training soon, Y/N. And Hee, you should hit the simulator soon, practice so you don’t get rusty!”

“Shut up,” Heeseung clicked his tongue in annoyance, but couldn’t resist a cheeky grin.

“Alright, bye guys!”

Jake soon disappeared around the corner, and the air turned thick with awkwardness. You didn’t mind Heeseung’s presence, but honestly, you didn’t know this man, or at least not enough. Without Jake’s familiarity and his comforting aura around you and Heeseung, you were unable to function well. Not when he’s your neighbour that you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot with, and truthfully, he was hot, to simply put it. You know how hot people tend to scare you? Yeah, that was him. Curse Jake for having hot friends.

“Shall we get going?”

You snapped out of your momentary inner monologue, nodding and hoisting your bag higher up your shoulder, letting Heeseung take the lead. Even though he was leading you towards his car, he didn’t try walking faster than you, constantly maintaining the same speed as you. You noticed him taking peeks at you occasionally when his pace started to speed up, then he would slow down again. It was a small detail that you took notice, appreciating it more than you should. 

The way to his car was quite a walk. He was walking beside you, always on the outside and made sure you walked on the inside. Was he always like this with everyone else? It was quiet between you two, but it was a comfortable silence. He was aware of your presence, you were aware of his; both were just too scared to be the first to break the ice, or so you thought.

“How did you meet Jake?” 

“Hm?” You snuck a glance at him, processing his question. “Oh, Jake. He’s my cousin,”

“Your—what?”

A humorous laugh slipped out of you. You loved this part, where everyone gets shocked at you casually dropping the news about your blood relation with Jake. Heeseung, on the other hand, realised that he wasn’t actually familiar with Jake’s family besides his parents and siblings. Seeing Heeseung being thoroughly shocked, you took the opportunity to continue.

“Yeah, he’s my cousin. Usually people don’t expect us to be related so I totally get your reaction,” a smile rests upon your lips, one that Heeseung didn’t miss. “I’m an only child, and he was the cousin that constantly played with me, so that’s mainly why we grew close,”

Heeseung unknowingly smiled at the thought of little Jake and you running around. He knew what his best friend was like, and realising the fact that he maintained the same outgoing personality was absolutely heartwarming. 

“Growing up, I knew he wanted to be an F1 driver, I’d occasionally tag along to his karting races. Soon, his F3, F2 races. It all went by like a blur, and suddenly he’s racing for an F1 team. That’s probably when I came to the realisation that I wanted to be a trainer too, I guess it was mainly because of that and him,” you shrugged, shying under the constant eye contact with Heeseung. He was all ears, never interrupting you once. 

“And now you get to tag along to every one of his races full time,” 

“Exactly,”

“Hey,” a thought suddenly sprang to his mind, wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows. “If you knew Jake was an F1 driver, then how did you not know I was one too?”

You snorted, shrugging your shoulders a little dramatically. “Well, sorry Mr Famous, I don’t like constantly watching cars drive in circles,”

“They’re not circles!”

“To me it is,” you heard a huff coming from him, laughing quietly under your breath. “I only kept up with Jake, but I guess I’ll start keeping up with you now, Mr three times world champion,”

“I’m honoured,” he placed a hand on his chest, flashing a toothy grin that made his nose crinkle, the sight unintentionally making your heart skip a beat. “You’ve got to support Ferrari,” he was referring to his own team, a sense of pride and honour as he said it, even you could tell how much he loved them.

“I don’t think Jake’s going to be happy about that,” you slowed down your steps as you approached a sports car that you figure was Heeseung’s, the Ferrari emblem shining brightly. “But, maybe I’ll have to make an exception,”

“You won’t regret it,” he said confidently, winking at you playfully, which earned him an eye roll from you. The change compared to his personality earlier on didn’t go unnoticed by you. The clumsy, shy and dorky him had a confident and cocky side to him. Noted.

Before you could reach down to open the door to the passenger side, Heeseung’s hand reached for it first, almost like it was his second instinct with how natural he was. He pulled the door open for you, and you turned to look at him, ignoring the minimal distance in between. Holding his eye contact for more than two seconds (yes, you counted) was intense. It took you everything to break his stare and enter his car, not missing his hand at the top of your head as you got in. 

You watched as he circled the car to get to his side, waiting patiently and sneakily looking around the interior. The hood of the car was closed, and you imagined for a second what it would be like to drive with the hood open, feeling the wind brush against your face. It was a two seater car, despite that, it was big and comfortable enough inside, the seats had you melted into it the moment you got in. So, this was what expensive cars felt like. 

Heeseung entered the car with a quiet grunt, revving the engine to a start and turned his head to check up on you, a small smile appearing on his face upon meeting your gaze. He caught you staring at him, didn’t he? 

“Nice car,” you complimented a little too awkwardly, which also made Heeseung chuckle stiffly, seemingly caught off guard too. 

“Thank you,” he smoothed his hand over the steering wheel, then pulled the car into drive. “Question, can I ask you something?”

You arched an eyebrow, wondering what was coming your way. Heeseung took that as a sign to continue, keeping his concentration on the road but actually, he just didn't want to face you as he asked the question.

“Be honest, that night when I was drunk, did that give you a bad impression? ‘Cause I swore your eyes was yelling it,”

Nothing prepared you for that. Not that it was bad, just unexpected. Moreover, you were surprised at him remembering the happenings that night, and not only that, to overthink it too? You couldn't blame him though, you would too.

“Okay, I'm being honest. Yeah, kind of? I thought you were some random drunk and I was scared for my life until I saw you were trying to get in—which I also thought you were breaking in at first—”

“That's harsh,”

“I had some drinks myself too, alright?” You snorted, remembering that night where you weren't fully drunk but intoxicated enough to think your next door neighbour, whose existence you didn't even know, was getting robbed. “You seemed fine, just maybe the heavy smell of perfume coming from you gave off a bad, and also odd first impression,”

“I swear I’m not some playboy,” it was a genuine misconception for most. Heeseung gave off the vibes of some womaniser that thinks he has power, money and influence just because he was a top Formula One racer, but truth be told, he was the opposite. The people closest to him knew that, not the one that the media created.

Judging from your sceptical raise of an eyebrow, Heeseung had a feeling you were doubting him. He feigned a shocked expression “Did you really think I’m the kind to bring a woman into my bed each night?”

“I didn’t say that! You’re a total opposite of what I thought you were—in a good way,”

“But your look was intending that you thought of it, about me being a playboy of some sort,”

“Maybe just a little, teensy bit,”

“I’m hurt,”

“It’s the aura,” you scrambled to pick up at the pieces, all while Heeseung enjoyed teasing you. “I mean, you’re cute, rich and talented, everybody wants you,”

“Doesn’t mean I want them either,” he pressed his lips in a flat line, shrugging lightly. Beside him, your eyes twinkled. What he said shouldn’t have set some small hope in you. Dude, you barely know him! But, you couldn’t help wanting him secretly. “Also, did you just call me cute?”

“I—” you sputtered, not expecting him to catch that. Heeseung was grinning like crazy. Oh, he was so definitely enjoying poking fun at you. You crossed your arm, turning your nose up at him. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,”

“I’m pretty sure you did,” he let out a chortle, finding your denial humorous and enjoyable. Just simply being with you was enjoyable. “I’m honoured … yet again,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, feeling your cheeks heating up just a bit. No way he caught you slacking like that. How did you even manage to pull that anyway? Whatever. 

The conversation soon died down, letting the music from the radio overtake the silence between you and him. On the drive back, you couldn’t take your eyes off the bypassing streets and buildings. You were in Monaco. That itself sounded surreal and unbelievable, and something you didn’t have in plan until now. The change was unexpected, but maybe it was something you needed.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect myself to be here right now,” you said out of the blue, speaking your mind ever so casually. You didn’t even realise yourself getting comfortable with Heeseung overtime, everything just seemed too natural when it comes to hanging around Heeseung. Was that normal?

“What do you mean?”

“I originally thought I’ll end up as a trainer in some football club since it was something I wanted,”

Another fact that surprised Heeseung. He glanced at you. “Football fan?”

“Kinda, I guess you could say that,”

“Maybe it’s fate,” he decided, a lighthearted assumption that you once had in mind as well. 

“Or maybe Jake saw I was unemployed and took the chances,” you wondered jokingly, but also having your suspicions. 

Heeseung let out a laugh in incredulity, shaking his head. “Either way, it was meant to be, you being here and working for Jake,”

Nodding a little, you considered his words. It was most likely meant to be. Monaco, Jake, meeting Heeseung. Something was in store for you. “Well, I’m quite glad,” you purse your lips and paused, “I got to meet you too,”

“Huh—” his head snapped to look at you in a flash, the look on his face telling you he thought he might’ve heard you wrongly. That’s when he had to regain his composure and maintain a stable breathing, “me too.”

The weight of your words and Heeseung’s reply were on each of your shoulders individually, both of you were unable to get the moment from earlier out of your minds. Leading up to the part where you and him reached the floor of your apartments, he walked you to your door and stood there, waiting for you to turn to him, which you did after breathing in a deep breath. You met his eyes, ones that resembled a bambi, glistening under the dim light.

“Today was fun, thanks for letting me join,”

“It’s nothing. I’m glad you joined, actually,” he slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, hiding the fact that his palms were sweating. “If you didn’t, we wouldn’t have properly met and on a much friendlier term,”

“That’s true,” you clutched onto the straps of your bag tighter. “And this won’t be our last meeting either,”

“Definitely,”

“I have a question,”

“Shoot,”

“This might sound odd but I feel like we didn’t properly introduce ourselves,” you looked at him expectantly. “Jake kinda introduced us to each other and I thought it would be wrong to not really get to know one another more personally. You get what I mean? Since we’re neighbours and everything—am I rambling?”

Heeseung grinned at your nervous and jittery demeanour. “Kinda,” he let out a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “You’re not entirely wrong,” he extended his hand outward, “I’m Lee Heeseung,”

“Y/N L/N,” you accepted his hand, the coarseness of his skin from the excessive amount of driving over the years met your smoother palms, though it was a short moment, you could feel the contrast of his hand to yours in terms of size as well.

“It’s nice meeting you, neighbour,”

“You too. Heard you’re some hotshot formula one driver,”

“Nah, they’re all just rumours, I’m just your friendly average neighbourhood guy,”

“Who delivers milk,”

“Newspaper,” he corrected, playing along with the joke with a the widest smile, “Some say I might be spiderman,”

“Now you’re going too far,” 

It was natural. All of it was. The flow of the conversation and the way you joked with each other. When you broke out laughing first, Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh along with you, the sounds of your laughter filled the empty hallway.

You didn’t want this to end. Talking to him and staring at him, no, you wished you could continue on. Yet, the words that left your lips were the opposite of how you felt. “I think I should head on in, I probably need a shower,”

“I—uh—same,” a breathy chuckle escaped Heeseung’s pretty lips, and hearing it only made you let out one as well. He was so dorky and awkward, it was cute, and a total contrast of what you had expected of him. 

“See you, Mr World Champion,”

“Bye, pretty,”

Pretty? 

Heeseung’s eyes widened a fraction, shock crossing his face. Did he just … call you that? It was the truth though, a truth that he unknowingly let slip. Lee Heeseung, you should’ve kept that in your mind and not the tip of your lips. He was chastising himself, but you, however, felt your knees weakened as you pressed your keycard onto the sensor.

He called you pretty. Pretty. Pretty!

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out right before you managed to shut your door, narrowly missing you as you were busy having a serious conversation with yourself regarding Heeseung’s pet name. You peaked your head out of the door, an expecting expression staring back at him. “Uh—if you need anything or any help, I’m always next door. Just—ring my doorbell or something, I’ll be there,”

What a sweetheart.

“Thank you, Hee, likewise,” you casted him your sweetest smile, then waved briefly and closed your door with a small click.

Hee? Hee! Oh my God. That just left your lips.

Heeseung couldn’t believe it himself. First, he called you ‘pretty’, and now, you called him ‘Hee’. He was winning, and never in a lifetime would he expect the day where he felt his heartbeat speeding up because of someone instead of racing.

Side by side, in different rooms with only a wall separating you and Heeseung, the two of you had your backs pressed against the front door. Processing and reflecting on what had happened, from the words said and the gestures made, all of them were taken notice and stored in each of your head. Butterflies and beating hearts overtook your bodies, the prospect of someone to look forward to now plagued your minds.

It was the start of something.

Whether it was a coincidence or on purpose, none of you knew the truth.

The times you've bumped into one another was more than imagined. Throwing out the trash? Oh, Heeseung just got back from the gym, looking absolutely scrumptious and waving at you. Going out for a morning jog? Heeseung coincidentally was doing the same and eventually joined you. 

Were you complaining though? No, you took every possible chance to see him, even if it was a glimpse or a 'hi' or small talks.

There's one thing you've got to admit. He was unhealthy for you.

The months passed and the routine of the both of you bumping into each other somehow became standing outside the door to talk longer and progressed into exchanging phone numbers, which was long overdue in your opinion. 

What amazed you most was him texting you first. It didn't even take him long to do that, in fact, it was on the same night you gave him your number. Wow. It then turned into you huddled in bed, stalking his Instagram profile and laughing at the range of pictures taken.

Obviously, pictures of his career and wins were the majority, ones that even included Jake who shared the same podium as him. With more scrolls, you discovered more natural pictures of him. 'Boys night' or 'chill days' captions under selfies or group photos. The recent one was ‘Happy New Years!’ with him in a party hat accompanied by some of his friends. 

That night, you went to bed a little too giddy and hit the 'follow' button without thinking twice. The morning was even better when you saw him following you back, and that only prompted you to bake a load of cookies, which explained the reason why you were standing in front of his door, a box of fresh cookies in hand.

It took you only one ring of the doorbell to have Heeseung appear, a hand on the door, body dressed in a casual outfit of black tee and sweatpants. Okay, breathe.

“Hello, hello,” he greeted, not missing the box you were holding.

“Hey, kinda random but I baked some cookies and I have extras so I wanted to give them to you if it's alright,”

Heeseung visibly beamed at your offer, eyes shining like a little kid at the candy shop. “It's more than alright actually,” he looked behind his shoulder for a quick second, “if so, would you want to come in and have a quick bite? I'll give you my honest feedback,”

“That's very Gordon Ramsey of you, why not,”

He stepped aside to let you in, and you gladly did so, gaze flickering around to take in the interior of his apartment. All of which screamed his vibes. You caught sight of some formula one car figurines and a couple of trophies on a shelf. 

“Cool collection you've got here. How much were these?” You pointed at his trophies, joking in an attempt to lighten the mood. You knew it was received well after you heard him laughing breathily as the door clicked shut.

“Just a couple thousands, no biggy,” he played along, ushering you to join him at the table with a wave of his hand. "I see someone's been stalking me lately," he said once you sat next to him, and you almost wanted to leave the moment you heard it.

“I did not stalk you,” you defended yourself, even if it meant you were lying. “I just wanted to follow you since we're more closer now,”

You swore you saw Heeseung's eyes soften at the mention of you and him growing closer. He let out a hum. “For a moment I thought you were thinking about me,”

Spoiler: you were. 

It took Heeseung minimal effort for him to make you fluster. Judging from the way you nervously open the box and push it to him, actively ignoring what he just said. “Here,”

“Thanks, sweets,”

There it was again. Another pet name that slipped from his tongue way too naturally. It even caught him off guard, thinking he should be more appropriate around you since you two were just getting to know each other. But how could he? Not when you were giving him a hard time by taking over his mind.

“These look good,” he said upon opening up the box, a smile creeping up onto his lips. Without hesitation, he grabbed one and took a bite out of it, savouring the taste of the fresh cookie. 

His nod of approval was the seal of validation for you. “Good, right?” him humming in agreement only made your smile wider in satisfaction and victory.

“Is this how you buy your way into people’s hearts? It’s definitely working for me,” Heeseung stared at the rest of the pile in awe, not realising how his words made you fluster even more. 

“Not just anybody,”

His gaze averted to you, a tinge of pink painted at his cheeks. It was unnoticeable in plain sight, but Heeseung himself could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. The feeling was overwhelming till the point he had to let out a cough. You were staring back at him innocently.

“Preseason starts soon. Testing in Bahrain,” you switched the topic, noticing the both of you being equally caught off guard. 

“Oh, yeah,” time passed by in a blur and Heeseung didn’t even realise February was coming along. “It’s really soon, huh? New Years was literally a few weeks ago? How was your New Year, by the way?”

“It was chill, didn’t do much since I don’t know many people here and all my colleagues are in other countries,” you mumbled the last part a little too sadly, but it was the truth, being alone in a different country was a new kind of foreign that hits harder than you expected.

“Ah. I didn’t know you were free and available that day, if I did, I would’ve invited you to the party the boys had—” that Instagram post, “You know what Jake said to me? ‘Take care of Y/N on my behalf too, she's new here and doesn't have many friends’,”

“He didn’t need to expose me like that,” you rolled your eyes in irritation at the mention of your cousin brother’s name, and what he said on top of that. It was partially the truth. “But it’s fine, Hee, he did bring it up over the phone but I chose to stay in. Too much testosterone concentrated in one party,”

“Not true, there were girls there too,”

“Does that make it sound better?”

Heeseung gulped, realising it in fact doesn’t make it sound better. “Well, no,”

“You athletes and partying and women scares me,” you played with the box, not wanting to imagine Heeseung with some other woman. There was one thing you had to remind yourself: stay away from athletes. For the reasons of them being unfaithful, rich, famous, snobby, womanisers, cocky—

“Not all of us are like that,”

Heeseung wasn’t like that. 

“I mean, yeah, I know some of the drivers are like that but most of us aren’t,” he continued on, seeing the worry dissolving from your face. He knew what he was doing, you were aware too, he was trying to give you assurance, catching on to the underlying meaning of your words. “The guys I hang around with have girlfriends and trust me, they’re loyal as ever, the ones that are single only actively search for girls. Even if so, they aren’t as playboy behaviour as you think,”

“Genuinely?”

“Genuinely,”

“What about you?”

Heeseung pursed his lips. “I haven’t been in a relationship in years,” he shrugged quite pathetically, “I’m practically living like a man who hasn’t felt a woman’s touch in years, because it’s mostly true,”

“Come on, really? The Lee Heeseung is bitchless? I don’t believe it,”

“Ask my friends! It’s been a while,” he laughed that eventually turned into a  sigh, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know, I admit, there were lots who tried hitting me up, but none of them truly meant it. You know what I mean? Especially after winning my championship, it felt like I could see through them and their true intentions. I just don’t think they see me as me. They see me as Formula One champion, famous and on the top of the world, but I’m none of that,”

Witnessing Heeseung getting vulnerable with you on a random 6 P.M. was not part of your schedule, but you were relieved he was comfortable enough to share these with you. Him, however, got panicked and didn’t even let you speak when he blurted out, “Sorry, shouldn’t have dumped everything on you—”

“No, no, it’s okay, Hee, really,” you reassured, almost placing your hand on his, but retreating your hand rather reluctantly. “It must be hard to not be able to have anyone see you as the way you truly are. You’re an amazing guy, genuinely. I might know you for a few months only but you’re one of the sweetest guys in my life, it makes sense why Jake regards you as a good friend,”

No words were able to form on Heeseung’s tongue, let alone speak. All he could do was stare at you, a kind of admiration and fascination in his bright irises. 

“I hope you can find the right person soon, even if it takes a while, it’ll be worth it knowing they’re the one,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, and in his perspective, he was sure he would’ve fell if he hadn’t snapped out of his daze. “I get you though. I might not be a world champion but I prioritise my job a lot. Some men don’t see that, at least the ones that I’ve dated. That’s why I’ve been single for quite some time too, and it’s not helping that I’m travelling a lot more now,”

This mild relationship trauma bonding session wasn’t what you two had in mind.

“Just as you said, it’ll be worth it when we find the one even if it takes some time,” Heeseung bumped your shoulder just as you did, a small grin displayed on his pretty face. “We’ll get there,”

“We will,”

What you didn’t know was Heeseung screaming at himself internally. ‘We’ll get there’? No, Heeseung didn’t want you with someone else. Hell, he doesn’t want to see other people either. He couldn’t believe himself for feeling this way. In what way was this a sane man’s behaviour? He’s far from sane.

Worst part of all was the two of you were equally running in circles together. You were interested in him and he was interested in you, but none of you dared to make any certain moves. Was it the fear? Was it because you were scared Heeseung might break your heart? Was it because Heeseung was scared you’d be affected by him? It was only going to be complicated the more it went on. But were you going to acknowledge that right now? Absolutely not. As they say, go with the flow, right? 

“Wanna grab dinner together? Heard there’s a new sushi place down the street,” you let Heeseung take the box from your hold, watching him place it on his coffee table so that he could enjoy it some other time. 

“Sounds good.”

There was no denial that something was growing between you and him.

Time passing by in a blur wasn't a great thing at all. Not to you and Heeseung anyway.

The oncoming F1 season starting soon only meant having to travel more and moments spent being next door lessened. This fact was apparent and undeniable, one that both you and Heeseung were aware of, and an unspoken urge to hang out more developed.

It first started when you invited Jake over for dinner after a hard training session, and miraculously on the way to your door, Heeseung showed up, just on time. He was about to leave for dinner, and Jake being Jake, he invited Heeseung to join you two with no hesitation. From then on, even without Jake’s presence, you found yourself having dinner at Heeseung’s house and watching movies together. Wild, wasn’t it? 

Maybe it was a good thing you were getting closer and more comfortable with him. You needed more friends other than just Jake in this line of work. For now, Heeseung was equally a great company that knew how to make you laugh and bring out the other side of you that you kept away from others.

However, no matter how close you were with him now, you were not prepared for whatever happened that day at all.

“Can I shower at your place?”

Opening the door to find a messy haired Heeseung in his grey sweatpants almost had you slamming the door in his face out of pure instinct. The sight was dangerous for you. You were just a girl after all. A man in grey sweatpants was a killer.

“Excuse me?”

“Hear me out,” he dramatically placed his hands out, putting on the most convincing look after seeing your doubtful expression. “My shower broke and the guy I called could only come by tomorrow to fix it, so I can't shower now, but, I need to shower,”

You considered for a moment, but unable to put up your front the more you glanced at Heeseung's pleading eyes and the desperation coming off him.

“Please, Y/N?”

���Of course, you can, Hee,” you patted him on the shoulder. “I'm not cruel enough to let you stink,”

“You're a lifesaver,” he sighed in relief, the desperation melted into gratefulness, you've never seen a man as desperate to shower as him at that moment. “I'll bring some ramen for us to eat after, sounds good?”

“Absolutely,”

“Great. Don't tell Andrew this though,” he was referring to his personal trainer, and you smiled.

“I won't, now hurry up before I close my door,”

Heeseung was quick to grab his items and rush into your apartment as if his life depended on it. A tray filled with his toiletries and a towel hung around his neck, he gave you a charming smile when he saw you approaching him after closing the door.

“Realised I've never been over much,” he said, eyes wandering around the corners of your living room.

“You never asked and I didn't offer, that's why I'm always at yours,”

“We need to switch it up soon, or else we'll have to wait months to be back,”

“Right,” you nodded a little solemnly at the mention of the long period of being away. “The bathroom's down the hallway, just walk straight and it's there,”

“Got it,” he snapped his fingers once he averted his gaze away from the direction you pointed. “Wait for me to cook the ramen,”

“You know I always do.”

That was exactly what you did: wait for him. You could hear the shower running in your quiet apartment, and it only made you think. He was in your house, showering. An F1 driver. If you told the you from months back that this would happen, you’d be livid.

The on and off conversation you had with yourself about Heeseung went on for a while until you heard some crashing noises that definitely came from the bathroom. Did he fall? There’s no way, right? The paranoia had you jumping out of your seat and jogging towards your bathroom. A knock from you once and there came Heeseung’s panicked voice.

“I’m okay! I dropped your shampoo bottle!” he yelled back, but most importantly was what he did next. He swung the door open, revealing him with only a towel hanging around his waist, hair visibly wet and his bare upper body on display. You shouldn’t look, you shouldn’t look, you shouldn’t—

You did what you couldn’t do earlier, which was closing the door on Heeseung. This time around, you finally found the strength and pulled the handle, closing the door and shocking both you and him. Okay, you needed that though.

Despite doing all that, the damage was unfortunately already done and the image of his bare body was burnt into your mind. Were you complaining? Secretly, you weren’t. But you were worried awkward tension might mess everything up. 

Acting natural was what you could do, focusing on the screen of your phone even when you heard his footsteps against the wooden floor and his soft humming that was heading your way. Your attention strayed away from the video you were watching, instead focusing on his humming, recognising the song he was humming to. It was a Justin Bieber song. What was the title of the song? Off something? Off—

“What are you watching?” Heeseung was suddenly standing next to you, head leaned down and the scent of his shampoo invaded your senses. It wasn’t just that, his face was quite literally next to yours, one wrong move and you’d clash your face with his. When you turned your head, he was already staring at you, a smile tugged at his lips.

“J–Just a stupid video,” why did he have you stutter? Stand up!

“Looks interesting,” he noted, straightening up and was no longer torturously close to you. Thank God. “So, ramen?”

“Definitely,”

You watched as Heeseung shuffled around the kitchen, sitting leisurely on the high stool behind the counter. He, who insisted on being the one who cooked, was struggling to find the pots and pans, but somehow still managing throughout. As he waited for the ramen to cook, he had his hand resting on the counter top, standing faced towards you, gaze staying on you.

“Sorry for just now,” he started, getting your attention and your ears perked up. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,”

“It’s fine, Hee, stuff happens,” you tried your best at seeming nonchalant, but you were actually crumbling internally. You could tell the both of you were struggling. 

“Well, opening the door and seeing me half naked isn't exactly just 'stuff happens',” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but you couldn't help cracking a smile at his demeanour. 

“You're fine. Everything's okay. It's not like I'm banning you from my home and filing a restraining order,” you reassured him for the millionth time, watching the distress on his face gradually melt away and shoulders relaxing. “It was a slip up and I'm not uncomfortable at all. For a moment I thought you fell and something happened, I'm much more glad finding out you didn't,”

“Thank God that didn't happen,” he breathed out a sigh of relief, closing the fire now that the ramen was done cooking. His back was faced towards you, and all you could focus on rather shamelessly was the wideness of his back. 

“I would've saved you,”

“My knightress in shining armour,” he took a peek back at you, meeting your eyes for a split second before turning away, a smile plastered on his face evident from his voice. 

It didn't take long before Heeseung was done with the ramen, serving two bowls onto the counter and joining your side. He even prepared two boiled eggs for you that you specifically requested every time you had ramen together. It only took once for Heeseung to remember. 

“Are you prepared for the new season?” You asked, trying to crack your egg but was visibly struggling. Heeseung then wordlessly took it from you, knocking it against the counter and peeling it slowly.

He hummed. “Physically, yes. Mentally, no,”

You frowned at his response, eyes following his hands as he placed down one freshly peeled hard boiled egg and took the other to get rid of the shells. “How come?”

“I don't know. I think I've always felt like this before the season starts,” he pursed his lips thoughtfully, merely shrugging and taking bites of his ramen. “Think the car's going to be good—I hope—I'm bound to know in a week at preseason testing,”

“It will be! You'll do well,”

“You have that much faith in me?”

“Mr Three Times World Champion? Yeah,”

“Over your own cousin?”

“I have faith in both of you,” you scrunch your nose at the mention of Jake, having to pit him and Heeseung against each other was unfair 

Heeseung clicked his tongue, letting out a 'tch'. “Not fair,”

“It is fair,” you rolled your eyes at him, naturally and smoothly putting half an egg into his bowl that he gladly accepted.

“Will you mostly be at the Mclaren hospitality?”

“Not during races. Will probably be at the garage. Depends on Jake though, wherever he goes, I'll go,”

He finished the last of his ramen, nodding at your response. “It'll be easier for me to find you, then,”

“You're saying it as if you've got something up your sleeves,”

“Hey, I just wanna see you,” he threw his hands up in mock surrender, a sense of sincerity visible in his gaze. 

“I'm not opposed to that,”

“I'll come find you when you least expect it,” he noted, and you shook your head, laughing quietly. “I'll take you out to dinner too, wherever you want,”

“Even if it's just a simple ramen in your hotel room?”

“I'll be down,” Heeseung said without any hesitation. You couldn't tell if he genuinely loved ramen that much or he was just willing to be flexible for you. Maybe both.

“I'm looking forward to it,”

“It'll be on me, as a way of repayment,”

“You're already feeding me free ramen, I think you're fine,” you gestured at the two empty bowls that were only filled with leftover soup.

“Better food,” he added, eyebrows rising in an attempt to have you tempted as well. “At least, higher quality ramen," he paused, taking in your contemplating expression. “Come on, I want to do it, so let me, please?”

You were grinning at his determination, and at the same time, you couldn't entirely reject his willingness. “Well … if you're genuinely willing, then I'm alright with it,”

Heeseung exhaled in both relief and victory, smiling quite stupidly at his success. “Let me treat you, okay?”

You nodded, picking up the two bowls to place into the sink, swearing that you've got it and having to make him back down from washing them since had already done the cooking. “Yes, yes, Mr World Champion,”

He suddenly barked out a laugh, throwing his head back with ease. “You've got to stop calling me that. I might not even be World Champion this season,”

“Why not?” You steal a glance at him, noticing he was already watching you as you washed the dishes. 

“Who knows? Anything can happen.”

Anything can happen. 

Heeseung had a feeling that wasn't just referring to his upcoming season, but also insinuating a change between you and him. Anything could literally happen. That was what scared him but also excited him.

It was going to be a long season ahead.

– MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA, 2023

You finally understood Heeseung's popularity. Might've taken a while, but now, your eyes have been opened. 

The season started off gracefully right after preseason testing. You found yourself running around quite a lot and being much busier than expected. The new life of working in a motorsport environment was humbling but also rewarding.

After the first two races, you slowly got used to the busier lifestyle, enjoying the trackside views and getting a better insight of what's happening in the garage. 

Other than that, you weren't surprised Heeseung had bagged the opening races easily. You watched from the Mclaren garage as he crossed the finish line, leading up to him celebrating at the podium with some familiar faces. Jake almost came in close, but unfortunately, missed out on the podium. Still, it was a strong start.

That was the reason why trying to speak to Heeseung face-to-face was much more of a struggle than you'd initially thought. He was big, like big big. He was always swarmed post race, fans crowded him and constantly busy with many other duties. The only time you got to speak was congratulating him for his win, and the rest was left to iMessage. 

Yet, you didn't miss his lingering gaze amongst the crowd of people. It was as if you were the only person there to him there and then.

The third race soon rolled around, meaning it was the Australian Grand Prix. Look, you loved Melbourne, but you swore your jet lag was about to take you out. It didn’t help that it was media day as well, which included having to partake in press conferences, video shoots and other promotional related things. Your legs weren’t getting much breaks either knowing you’d have to follow Jake around to all these.

Being Jake’s assistant almost felt like you were babysitting a child sometimes. The morning of media day was rough. You couldn’t find Jake after leaving him at the garage for only a few minutes, only to come back to engineers and no driver that resembled a puppy in sight. 

A headache wasn’t the ideal to welcome the first thing in the morning. You decided to rush out and walk around, texting him feverishly as you rounded the place. It was then you rounded a corner and focused too much on your phone—people were right about not walking while using phones—when you bumped into someone.

Heeseung.

His expression contorted into a mixture of shock, relief and happiness. You, yourself, felt like your breath was knocked out of you. Just staring at him was enough to have you rooted to the ground.

“Hi,” you exhaled, not giving a care if you looked abysmal at that moment, dressed in a papaya coloured work uniform.

“Hey,” his eyes visibly brightened up, a sweet smile slowly spreading. “What's got you so busy with your phone?” He pointed at your phone, genuine curiosity sparkled in his irises.

“Jake, that's what,” you groaned, waving your phone in annoyance. “He disappeared from the garage and he's supposed to be getting ready for press,”

Heeseung suddenly looked guilty, which only prompted you to raise your eyebrow at him, signalling him to spill. “He snuck out to find me, and I think he's already snuck back to the garage. Sorry about that,”

“Why are you guys acting like a forbidden couple sneaking around?”

“What if we are?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a habit that you found yourself doing a lot around him. “Sure you are,” you replied sarcastically, and it made him laugh. 

“When will you let me take you out for dinner?” Heeseung frowned, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning back a bit.

“I'm free whenever,”

“That's a lie,”

“Fine. That is a lie,” you sighed, remembering your busy schedule that was just as hectic as his. “There's a few weeks break after this weekend, just before Baku,”

“Right,” the gears were turning in Heeseung's head, faintly recalling the season's schedule. “Will you be back in Monaco?”

“I will,”

“Great,” he was having a hard time hiding his true emotions, suppressing his big goofy smile into a nonchalant one. “I'll have a table booked, and I'll just text you the details,”

“Sounds amazing,” it was beyond amazing. 

Even though you two acted like it was only a normal dinner, both of you had a secret feeling it wasn't just that. Not at all. It was clear in the air that a certain emotion and tension lingered in the air, getting heavier as time passed.

“I've been dying to talk to you,” he confessed out of the blue, taking you and him, apparently, by surprise. If you had to be honest, you felt the same. “Me being too caught up with everything and you adjusting to the job, I just wished we got to talk more rather than just texting,”

“Are you saying that just because you keep losing at 8-Ball?” It was true. Heeseung might be a good Formula One driver, but horribly skilled at iMessage games.

“No,” he was quick to deny it, but you knew he was just saving face, so you spared him and waved it off.

“Kidding. I really wanted to talk to you too. It felt weird,”

“What does?”

“You are so close but too far to reach. You’re constantly surrounded, and it feels like I can’t reach you, it feels strange and distant, very foreign,” you didn’t even realise you’ve let the pent up amount of pining slip into your words, but it seemed he felt the same, being able to understand as his gaze softened. You were clutching onto your phone for dear life, knowing sweat was forming on your palm from the nervousness. “But it's great to see you winning, the first two races were crazy,”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” 

“Says the person who thinks the sport is just cars driving in circles,”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, holding in your laugh as you watched Heeseung raise his eyebrows with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m slowly getting the hype,”

“So … not fully, yet?”

“You’ve got to show me more to fully get it,”

Heeseung’s ears definitely perked up at what you said, but he didn’t want to overthink it and overanalyzed the hidden meanings behind it, so he tried keeping his nonchalant front. “I’ll show you,” he merely said, winking cheekily at you.

“Alright, World Champion. I think it’s also time for us to leave, especially you. You’ve got press with Jake,” 

“Right, almost forgot,” he chuckled awkwardly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should probably go,”

“You should,”

“I’ll see you,” he started walking backwards, not turning his back on you yet. “Let me know once you’re back. I’ll tell you the details once I’ve settled it,”

“You’ve got it,”

He nodded, still backing away stiffly and you wanted to burst out laughing at the way he’s acting. You crossed your arms, placing your weight on one leg, staring at him, amused. “You know the Ferrari hospitality is in the opposite direction to where you’re heading, right?”

He stopped in his tracks, then tilted his head, resembling a lost puppy. “Is it?”

“Yes, it is, Heeseung,” you sighed, beckoning him to come forward.  “Let’s just walk back together,”

Heeseung was good at hiding his embarrassment. He could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, but not reaching his face, instead to the tips of his ears. Yet, the moment he joined your side and saw your smile, every negative thought dissipated, and he let himself feel when he’s in your presence. His sly brush against your shoulders and hands didn’t go unnoticed by you. All you could do was hold your calm until you reached back to your own hospitality, seeing Jake there and you were silently grateful he didn’t stay in the garage.

“What’s got you so … glowy this early in the morning?”

You snapped up from your phone screen, meeting Jake’s narrowed suspicious gaze. “What?”

“Don’t just ‘what’ me, something happened, didn’t it? You seem so smiley and giddy,”

Was it that obvious? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe it’s that overpriced smoothie I got for breakfast,”

“I drank it too!”

“Maybe it’s not working for you,” you shrugged, facing a pouty Jake that was displaying his best attempt at sad teary eyes. “It’s the sad truth,”

He huffed. “Whatever. We should get to the press before I get my ass beat,”

“Yeah, by me.”

Jake eventually forgot about his whole suspicion on you once the race weekend arrived and passed. You consider yourself lucky for that. It was probably fated for what happened next. Him and Heeseung managed to claim their spots on the podium next to each other that race weekend, earning points for their championships and teams. It was one of those times where you ran to pull Jake in a big hug, just like old times. 

In the midst of it all, seeing Heeseung approaching you brought out the instinct in you to pull him in a hug as well. Despite him being covered in sweat and you in another team’s uniform, you and him both stood there as if it was only you two alone. You were able to speak to Heeseung for a bit, congratulating him and shaking him in excitement. Maybe it was a heat of the moment thing, but Heeseung pressed a kiss on your cheek, leaving you stunned. Before you could even give a reaction, he got whisked away, resulting in you and him each frowning and frazzled. 

You stood there, all stunned and fingers softly touching the spot where his lips made contact with just a moment ago. The same lips that curved into a smile that you adored and spewed stupid jokes which never failed to make you laugh.

Snap out of it!

Oh.

You were utterly screwed.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Nothing felt better than being back to the comforts of your own home.

It was odd, calling Monaco your home now. If you had to be fully honest, you missed your real home. The place where you old friends and family stayed while you were currently miles away. 

The ping from your phone eventually brought you out of your reminiscence and diverted your attention. It was good timing, or else you would've broken down crying thinking about it more. 

hee(neigh)bour: free tonight?

you: yes!

hee(neigh)bour: expect me at 6 pm ;) we're going fancyyy

Was that winky face necessary? Yet, it still somehow made you laugh. It didn't last long once you realised the little time you had to get ready. Five hours wasn't enough. You needed a day to fully mentally and physically get yourself together. 

Heeseung was taking you out to dinner. Was it a date? Did he think it was one? No, don't overthink it, it's just a dinner, a friendly dinner. 

You didn't want it to stop at that, though. Shamelessly, you wanted it to be a date.

You wished you were lying when you said you spent two hours trying on outfits and rummaging through your closet for anything that was fancyyy, just as Heeseung mentioned. In the end, you settled for a dusty pink satin midi dress that you got online not long ago thanks to some tacky fashion blog. It was something you've barely worn before, the open back and silky material was probably the most fancy you could dig out from your closet.

The clock was ticking close to six, you made sure your makeup wasn't smudged or your purse wasn't left on the side of your couch, carelessly stumbling around as you balanced on one leg trying to get your heels on. Your heart shouldn't be beating over the normal speed, but it was. The moment your hand twisted the doorknob, clock ticking right at six o'clock, and with one twist of a hand, the door opened and the doorbell rang, you stood still.

“Heeseung,”

“Y/N, hey,” he breathed out, gulping at the sight of you. The timing of your exit and his appearance collectively gave you and him a whiplash, but seeing him managed to calm your nerves a lot more.

Heeseung was dressed in a simple suit and tie, hair styled down, but still managing to be as handsome as ever. What really caught your eye was the small bouquet of flowers in his hand, explaining why he was shifting around nervously. 

“I've got you flowers,” he held it up, gaze held with expectations and a sweet smile facing you. It was a pretty and delicately made bouquet with colourful flowers. Cute. Both him and the bouquet.

“Thank you,” you accepted them from him, smiling wider, and it almost felt like you'd be smiling non stop whenever you're around him. “They're really pretty,”

“You're really pretty too,” he was quick to compliment you, too quick that even he didn’t realise until a beat later, reddening in surprise. “I—”

“Thanks, Hee, you’re really handsome too,” you kept your cool, though feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks as well. In a third perspective, you two probably looked like blushing idiots.

He visibly straightened, clearing his throat and gradually regaining his composure. One thing Heeseung wasn’t going to do tonight was crumble, but with you around, it’s hard to say. “Thank you. Shall we get going?” 

“Yes! After I put the flowers away, wait a minute, okay?”

Heeseung let out a soft ‘okay’ and laughed under his breath, watching you run back in and filling a vase full of water, proceeding to chuck the flowers in carelessly. Your heels were clicking against the floor noisily, and soon you were in front of him again, smiling abashedly. “I’ll make sure to deal with the flowers more nicer when I get back,”

Heeseung waved you off, guiding you forward. “No worries about that, I can always get you new ones.”

Heeseung might’ve not realised how lasting the effects of his words were, because you were a flustered mess while he continued on as if nothing happened. He couldn’t just say that and expect zero reactions from you!

The drive there might’ve been a little quiet from time to time, but you basked in the silence and admired the scenery of Monte Carlo. It almost felt like you were a kid in a new country again and was constantly wowed by new things. Apparently Heeseung could tell that about you. He occasionally casted glances at you, smiling mostly to himself when you were too caught up and blabbering about the most random things, listening to every one of them while you thought he wasn’t. 

“No, I have to agree, I think pouring milk after the cereal is much more … normal than cereal after milk,” Heeseung was holding back his laugh as he agreed with you when you two were walking to the restaurant.

“I know right! Say that to some of my colleagues,”

“No way,”

“Yes way,” you displayed a horrified expression, but it only melted into a smile once you saw Heeseung's face. 

You hated it. This unexplainable feeling you always had around Heeseung. It never faded away, but instead grew stronger and persisted as time passed. What was it? Why were you like this?

For the time being, you kicked aside the countless thoughts of Heeseung and actually tried to immerse yourself in the dinner with the real Heeseung in front of you. It was hard to concentrate entirely. Your main focus wasn’t even on the smoked salmon on your plate nor the ancient wine in your glass; it was on Heeseung. 

He asked you about almost everything, putting the spotlight on you for most of the dinner, which was quite surprising for you. But what he failed to know was you having trouble formulating a proper answer considering how your mind couldn’t stop wandering over to him. It was annoying that he had completely taken over you and your head in the span of a few months. 

It was even more annoying how nice and soft hearted he was. He proved that by telling you the bill was already paid and wholeheartedly declining your offer to pay back, insisting that he was the one who invited you out anyway. You could only accept your defeat, but promised him you’d treat him to some ramen. 

The walk back to the car was excruciating. It was mostly silent, but that was not the problem, it was the tension filled air that made your skin crawl. You and him were both tired, and you’d said what you wanted to say during dinner, so comfortable silence eventually settled in the air. You could feel his lingering gaze on you, and you were sure he felt yours on him as well. It was just a waiting game for one of you to speak up at that point. 

It must’ve been an unsaid rule. Heeseung didn’t think twice before opening the door of the passenger side for you, bambi-like eyes staring back at you, a small smile on his lips. “M’lady,” 

You cracked a smile at his behaviour, shaking your head slightly and thanked him as you got in. Everything happening before you almost gave you a sense of deja vu from months ago where you were last in his car. Back when you were barely friends but somehow there was an undeniable spark between you and him. Nothing has changed, neither the dynamics nor you and him in general, all of it was the same, but probably better.

“What are you thinking about?” Heeseung’s voice drew you out from your small bubble of thoughts. It was then you realised that you were soon reaching the apartment complex.

“Us,’’

Heeseung was quiet for a beat, the both of you processing what you said differently. His head snapped to look at you, and you gulped, cursing at yourself for letting your tongue loose. “I mean, the time we met,”

“What about it?” he kept his composure, you could tell that he did.

“I’m getting deja vu to the time we just met. Me in your car and we’re driving back to the apartment,” you decided to be truthful, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “It’s nothing, really, it’s a little stupid,”

“It isn’t,” Heeseung reassured. “It’s normal to reminisce once in a while, and it’s weird, you know? How our emotions and feelings work, it’s all complicated,”

You glanced at him. Feelings and emotions were complicated, he said it almost like he had read your mind. He didn’t notice you staring at him, and continued on. “I’m just glad to have you here, in my life and … in general. Didn’t realise how lonely I was in Monaco until you came into my life,”

Your gaze softened at his words, unable to hide your small frown at the tone of his voice. He turned to look at you for a split second, then broke into a chuckle. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re a good neighbour,” he attempted at diffusing the heavy tension, eliciting a quiet scoff and an amused smile from you. 

The rest of the journey was thankfully much lighter and easy going. Heeseung was too busy indulging in the music playing on the radio to notice you spacing out yet again. His words were dancing in your mind from time to time. You certainly didn’t miss the look in his gaze, even though it was merely a second. 

As you let him hold your hand and lead you, you couldn’t help but feel giddy from a small action like this. Holding your hand tightly and offering his spare slippers to get you out of your heels were simple gestures, but why were they making you flush easily? Maybe it wasn’t just the actions, but also the person behind it.

Standing in front of your door, right beside his, you were facing him with a wavering attempt at maintaining eye contact. It was the same exact spot where you first met him, except this time around, you felt the complete opposite compared to then. Thinking about this spot, in front of your individual front doors, it was crazy that you and him had many encounters here. But at that moment, you stood with a different feeling and emotion, eyes holding a message for him to slowly decipher.

“I really enjoyed the date—” Did you really just say that? You swore you’d keep that to yourself!

Heeseung blinked, looking almost as if he was splashed with a bucket of cold water, totally shell shocked. “Date?” 

You, on the other hand, were freaking out at your own mistake. “Ignore that. It’s a slip of the tongue, it’s stupid, oh my gosh—”

Heeseung was quick to wave his hands. “No, no, it’s fine. I—uh—I really liked this date too,” he was slowly smiling, not denying or correcting you. “I was hoping I can bring you out for another date again,” he made sure to enunciate that word, making his intentions clear. “If it’s all okay with you,”

“I’m more than okay with it,” you exhaled, needing to pinch yourself. 

“Great,” he was good at hiding his joy, suppressing most of it into a smile and slipping his hands into his pants pockets to hide his clammy hands. “It’s time to clear out your schedules,”

“You sound like you’ve already got something in store,”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he simply shrugged. “Get ready to be sick of me during these few weeks,”

“Like I’m not already sick of you,”

“Hey!” 

“Kidding. If you charm me enough, I’ll probably even fall in love with you,”

The gears in Heeseung’s head seemed to have turned, coming up with an idea that you couldn’t predict. You instantly recognised the familiar spark hidden behind his soft gaze, preparing yourself to hear him out on whatever he had hidden in his sleeves. 

“Give me three dates,” he started, the sincerity in voice contrasted with his playful smirk. Screw that, you weren’t prepared for that. “I’ll charm you within these three dates,”

“Seriously? Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” he didn’t even bother to hide it nor make up excuses, being much more straightforward than you expected. Who gave this man the sudden surge of confidence? “Four dates. I'll plan them and it'll be spontaneously timed,”

“Do you have the time for that, though? The season's schedule—”

“Forget about that, I'll make it work. Just let me take you out on a few dates, how does that sound?”

“Sounds fantastic,” it felt like he had knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Heeseung nodded slowly, seemingly digesting it all too, his smile never once slipped. “Fantastic,” he repeated after you, and it had unknowingly become a habit he picked up on. “I'll let you know when's the first date. Any preference?”

“I have faith in you, Hee,”

“I won't let you down,” his promise sounded like it had a deeper meaning behind it from the tone of his voice. He was serious about making you fall in love with him, but the thing was you already were halfway there. The effort coming from him only made you cave in more and more. “It's getting late, I'm sure you're tired. Should we …" he gestured at the front doors. 

“Oh right, yeah,” you were too deep into the whole conversation to realise you were still standing in front of your apartment. It was embarrassing for you to admit that you weren't willing to leave so soon and wanted to spend more time with Heeseung. You could always invite him over—no, wait—that sounds wrong, you're not going for third base. All you could do was nod along and act casual. Playing hard to get, that was the plan, right? 

“I had a nice time tonight, Hee, thanks for dinner,”

“It was my pleasure. I had a nice time finding out your punk phase in middle school too,”

“Okay, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, remembering the precise moment where you and Heeseung shared stories about each of you. Your big mouth just had to let it slip. “It was the past, and it was a phase,”

The mischievous smile persisted on his pretty face. “I would like to see it come to life again,”

“No you don't,” you poked his shoulder with a finger, and you let a beat pass, not removing it just yet. Heeseung arched an eyebrow in question, maintaining eye contact with you. 

The fingertip pressed against his shoulder eventually travelled upward and your palm pressed onto the same area. Your touch was gentle, fingers holding onto his shoulder lightly. “Goodnight, Hee,”

He visibly gulped, surprised at how close you've gotten in a split second. Not to mention, your touch on his shoulder was burning into his skin. It was such a small and simple gesture, yet he was crumbling from the inside. 

“Goodnight,” he mustered everything and managed to say, excusing the scarlet painted cheeks and ear tips. 

Once you removed your hand from his shoulder, he felt like he could finally breathe again. Was it normal to feel this way? To be completely knocked out of breath in a way? To be enamoured of you? 

With one last exchange of goodbyes, you disappeared behind your front door, leaving Heeseung there in the corridor to himself where he stood rooted to the ground, fingers grazing against the spot you had touched earlier, head tilted to one side and tongue wetting his lips in deep thought.

Then there was you, standing behind your door. Everything from the dinner up till now, you had to digest and process it. 

Because, that was all you needed to know to realise that you liked Heeseung, and you could only let time make you fall completely. 

— THE 1ST DATE, MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

“He’s taking you out on dates? Three dates?”

Kim Minjeong, your beloved best friend who stayed miles away from you, was screaming into your ear through the phone at nine in the morning. She was one of the closest friends you have that you kept in contact with, considering the amount of years you’ve spent together too. Now, you were in Monaco while she was in London, yet you were glad the distance didn’t stop you from being friends.

“The Lee Heeseung? That F1 champion?” she had been gasping nonstop throughout the phone call, and you didn’t blame her, it was a lot to take in. 

“Even you know him? Gosh, was I that oblivious? I truly think I was unprepared for the job,” you sighed, weighing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you attempted at picking an outfit for Heeseung’s first date.

“Way too oblivious. This was why I told you to come to the UK! Football is massive here, you’d be fit for a job anywhere,”

“Well, Jake practically begged me and I was unemployed so I took the chance,” you fling aside an overly fancy dress that was not fit for the casual, huffing quietly. Apparently, Heeseung had planned a dinner by the beach, taking you to watch the sunset before that too. Talk about being such a romantic guy, huh? “Besides, the pay was … convincing too,”

Minjeong barked out a humorous laugh that was mixed with disbelief, and you could almost picture her shaking her head, giving you that specific disapproving look. “Okay, whatever. Tell me more about this guy and the dates,”

“Heeseung? He’s nice, caring, funny, and just easy to be around,”

“Come on, there must be more than those plain descriptions,”

Of course there was. Heeseung was more than words could ever describe. He was a breath of fresh air on a summer's day, the type that was cooling and calm on a scorching hot day, soothing the burn on your skin. One look into his eyes was enough to fill you with contentment, everything about him was what you wished to have, but whether or not you could, you didn't know.

“There is…” your voice faltered into a whisper.

“Oh my God, you have a crush, don't you?” Minjeong practically screamed into your ear once again, making you recoil away from the phone for a second, wincing in pain. “You are just shy, I know it. You were always like this!”

You were in no place to correct her, she knew you through and through. “Fine, yes, I do fancy him—”

“You admitted it!”

“Well, yeah, after someone here egged me on,” you grumble quietly, listening to her giggles, knowing damn well she has a big wide grin plastered on her face. “I think I do like him,” you finally set down your chosen outfit, sitting on your bed in a slumped posture, mostly in defeat.

“You'll know over time, like, for sure. Based on my own experiences, when you're at that stage of thinking you like him, you tend to be in denial at first—” you rolled your eyes at that point, being heavily guilty, “then, you'd accept it, and fall harder and harder. Suddenly, you know you like him and boom, you're in deep!”

F.M.L. 

Everything she said had struck a point, and you being in the denial stage was already proving one of them. “You're—I—I don't think you're wrong,”

“I know I'm not. Just do what you feel is right, 'kay? He's into you too, don't overthink it! Man's planned four dates just for you to fall for him is already a clear sign,”

“You think?”

“Don't be stupid, Y/N. Anyone can tell how much Heeseung likes you.”

Anyone can tell how much Heeseungs likes you. That was the only thing running through your head for the rest of the time you got ready. It finally hit you that you had finally accomplished a little progress: admitting your feelings, but the problem was you’re literally seeing him in a few hours. How were you going to act normal around him? All of this was bringing back to your highschool years where you last felt the same as you were now, all giddy and preoccupied with thoughts of him. 

Leading up to the minute when your doorbell rang, signalling the presence of Lee Heeseung at your doorstep. Before opening the door, you did what you’ve never done, which was nervously tucking your hair behind your ears. What has gotten into you? The moment you pulled the door open, you were faced with him, the same man you were thinking about for God knows how long. He was in a simple outfit. White tee and light blue jeans, an outfit that totally complimented his tall and lean stature, plus his sun kissed skin that you ever so appreciate. He was absolutely gorgeous.

“I got you some flowers,” he revealed a small bouquet of tulips in different colours. “I figured the last one was probably wilting so I got you new ones,” 

You accepted it from him, cheeks matching the pink tulips amongst the bunch. He stuck to his words, though you didn’t believe it was true in the first place, mainly treating them light heartedly. “Thank you. You didn’t need to, you know?”

“I want to, don’t worry. It’s not hurting my wallet anyway,” he shrugged, not missing a chance to sweep his eyes along your body. “Besides, I like seeing you smile whenever you get them,”

That only got you flushing a deeper hue of pink. One thing about him was the fact that he knew his ways with words, and he was aware that he has an effect on you, so what more than to use both to its advantage. “Thank you then,” you turned to rush back inside to place the flowers away, but in actuality, you needed to hide your blushing face from Heeseung.

The drive to Larvotto beach was calming. Heeseung’s convertible car had its sunroof open the whole time, the evening air was cooling against your skin, and the sun was soon to set. You let yourself look over at Heeseung, watching his hair flow along the wind, a carefree expression on his face. He was always pretty, but seeing him under the dimming sun, it only made your heart tighter and eyes brighter. 

“Is it your first time here?” The beach was never the first place you’d thought to go to, especially when you’re not the biggest fan either. However, having Heeseung here made it an exception, or were you just biased? You weren’t complaining about having a personal tour guide either way.

“It is. I don’t think I’ve travelled much ever since I got here,” you kicked the sand with your feet, slightly thankful to have worn beach appropriate shoes. 

“There’s a lot of hidden gems here, I’ll bring you there during the break,”

You raised an eyebrow at him, tilting your head to one side. “Are you suggesting something? Hey, Lee Heeseung, why are you being so nice to me?”

“It’s because I like you,” no sugarcoating, neither did he flinch nor cower as he said it, face remaining impassive. You, however, were standing there with a thumping heart, mind practically yelling ‘did he just say that’ and ‘say something’ over again. Almost every possible word died on the tip of your tongue, leaving you stunned. 

What happened next only increased your confusion. Heeseung laughed. Right, you weren’t hallucinating whatsoever, he genuinely choked out a laugh, an awkward laugh, to be exact, and you were there questioning if his insanity was intact.

“Forget it, it’s nothing,” he waved it off, breathing deep and shaking his head. 

“It’s not ‘nothing’, Hee,” you frowned, crossing your arms and nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Okay, I drank a little before this,” he smiled, the same foolish smile that he sported around you, but soon it faltered. “You don’t need to say anything,” his voice softened. “Just … forgive me if I made you uncomfortable,”

“You’d never make me feel uncomfortable,” you were fidgeting with your fingers this time, unsure why you didn’t answer him back when you knew you liked him too. Were you scared? “Thank you,”

It was Heeseung’s turn to be confused. “For what?”

“For telling me, and … letting me know what I can do with my feelings next,” you needed time to sort everything out, and Heeseung understood that, but he also couldn’t resist being slightly curious about what you said. It was an unspoken fact that lingered in the air, from the first meeting until present, there had always been a spark between you two. You knew that, Heeseung knew that, but you were both just waiting for the right time to act on it. 

Heeseung’s soft smile reassured you a little more, and you knew there was nothing that’d make it awkward between you and him. You turned away from him, hiding the tinge of red gradually spreading on your cheeks. “It’s really pretty here,” the sun was already setting, painting the sky a darker shade of blue. The bright lights coming from the buildings nearby illuminated the area, bursting through the dark, just the same as the stars connecting the both of you burning brighter. 

You were looking around, unaware that Heeseung had his gaze on you instead, a faint smile pulled at his lips, a certain longing gleaming in his brown irises. “It really is.”

To your relief, the dinner wasn’t stiff or awkward, it flowed much more naturally than you expected. Heeseung’s sudden confession was truly out of the blue, but you blame yourself more for freezing like a deer in headlights. What could you do, feelings were odd, and you just weren’t fully ready right there and then. The scenery around got to take your mind off him though, basking in the bright lights and music, enjoying good food and company, you were thankful for it.

Just like the other night, you and him ended up in front of your front door by the end of the night. It was almost a reenactment of it too. He was staring at you and you stared back, both of you just standing there without wiping your stupid smiles away, as if playing a game about who would speak first. Spoiler, it’s you.

“Thanks for tonight … again,”

“My pleasure … again,” he mimicked your words, eliciting a scoff of disbelief from you, that grin on your face only widening, contrasting to your pointed glare. But soon it melted into a much more apologising stare, and you started biting your lips out of habit. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier by the way, I shouldn’t have kept quiet,”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping a little, but he reassured you another time. “It’s fine, really. I get it, you were shocked, I shouldn’t have done it either,”

“No—well—yeah, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me rejecting you or something, I’m not, okay? I just need some time,”

Heeseung seemed to look amused instead, lips curving up into a wider smile, twinkling eyes filled with a sense of adoration that you failed to notice. “I know,”

“You know?”

“I know. Y/N, you don’t need to explain anything to me, you don’t owe me an explanation whatsoever. It’s your feelings and what’s mine is mine,” he reached over to brush a strand of hair that fell onto your face. His action rendered you motionless, you found yourself holding your breath for a split second, gaze wandering around his features screaming ‘you’re insane!’ He was, in fact, insane, crazy even to pull this stunt on you, whereas you were too buzzed from the cocktails to form a proper reaction to it. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, realising you needed to get more alcohol in your system to fully take everything in. If only you had known earlier that having a crush would be this complicated, then maybe you wouldn’t have one in the first place. But it was impossible anyway, Lee Heeseung knew his way to your heart. Screw him. Unlike your mini rant in your head, your face lit up at the mention of his name, drawing his attention instantly. “Would you like to … join me for a drink?”

It was an invitation that meant more than what it seemed, one that told him you've opened your heart to him, letting him in. 

“A drink?” from the sound of his voice, he already sounded convinced, but mildly surprised at your sudden offer. 

“Yes, or maybe a few,” you smoothly unlocked your door, blinking at him with a teasing grin.

Heeseung let out a chuckle at the sight of you, so inviting and jumpy, absentmindedly filling his heart with more adoration, eventually having no choice but to cave in. Well, he has to push his trainer and nutritionist to the back of his mind and place you in the centre of it. “I can’t say no to that,”

“Be my guest.” you pushed the door open, dropping an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder as he passed, then closed the door to start a night of deep talks paired with red wine.

That night, you fell asleep at four in the morning, surprisingly with Heeseung by your side. One bottle led to another, and soon, you were both drunk, slumped on the couch in a stupor. Before Heeseung could realise or even form a single conscious thought, he had fallen asleep. Let’s just say the morning after could only be described with ‘hungover’, ‘dead tired’ but also, ‘filled with a new found love’. Maybe all it took was a drunken night with secrets told to get you one step closer to fully admit your liking.

— THE 2ND DATE, BAKU, AZERBAIJAN 2023

You wished your break lasted forever. In a blink of an eye, you're suddenly in a new country with a lasting jet lag. It wasn't just you who thought that either, it was the entirety of the garage. 

Another day, another race. You had to remind yourself that the season's schedule hasn't even reached halfway yet and there's still more to come, which is why you shouldn't expect a quick freedom from work.

“What did you do over the short break?” Jake stared expectantly at you as you handed him his gloves, the garage was filled with loud buzzing noises of metal. 

“I went on a date,”

Jake's eyes almost bulged out of his head at your casual response. “You what?”

“I went on a date,” you repeated a little harshly this time, handing him his balaclava that he didn't bother to put on until he was satisfied with your responses.

“I need more details,”

“There's not much details,”

“Who was it?”

“I don't want to say,”

“Why not? Is he some socialite? Monaco's filled with rich upper class people,”

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, narrowing your gaze at him, visibly unamused. “Rich? Yes. Socialite? Not really,”

“Why are you making me guess?” He crossed his arms, clearly agitated at your reluctance.

“Why are you butting into my business when you're supposed to be putting this—” you pointed feverishly at the balaclava in his hand, “—on and getting your ass into the car,”

“Can't your sweet ol' cousin know?” He grumbled, finally pulling on the white balaclava over his head. 

“You'll know when the time is right,” you said with a finality in your tone, and Jake huffed in annoyance but not making another comment.

You wished him good luck and after you pressed an encouraging kiss against his cheek, he left to prepare for the race that was about to begin in less than an hour. 

Sitting amongst your coworkers, you were discussing with them about the possibility of winning, watching the race on a screen. The orange Mclaren cars were seen zooming past, climbing higher on the scoreboard.

However, your eyes were particularly set on a specific name. 'LEE' paired with a Ferrari logo, was sitting high on top of the leaderboard. Of course he was, you thought.

An hour had passed and with one last lap to go, Heeseung was fighting with Jay from Mercedes to snatch first place on the podium. You held your breath for a minute, eyes flickering between the timer and the cars that were inching close to one another. Then there it was, Heeseung's red Ferrari overtook Jay's silver Mercedes and crossed the finish line, a chequered flag waving in the air and you fell backwards onto your seat.

“Lee Heeseung yet again,” one of your colleagues, Keeho, breathed out in astonishment. 

“He's the ace for a reason,” Chaewon, your favourite PR manager and another one of your colleagues, added thoughtfully. 

The garage still had a reason to celebrate nonetheless. Jake came in third, securing another podium for him this season, meanwhile his teammate, Dokyeom secured fourth place, missing out narrowly for a spot on the podium. The team was in high spirits knowing there were points scored and their efforts were not in vain. 

While you were stuck in the garage celebrating with your colleagues, Jake and Heeseung were chilling in the cool down room, a place where drivers recover after a race, before heading out to the podium. Jake was eyeing Heeseung, a little thought in mind.

“So … what were you up to over the break? Didn't hear someone calling out for a small party or something,” Jake whispered quietly enough so that only both him and Heeseung could hear it.

Heeseung shrugged, unaware of Jake's intentions. “I trained, ate, went shopping and had a date—”

“A date you say …” his mind began to work, suspicions increasing further. “Funny, interesting …”

Heeseung pulled a face at Jake's odd behaviour, leaning his body away from the younger. “You're being weird,”

“Well, I'm just thinking,” he waved his friend off, smiling devilishly. “Plus, since when does Lee Heeseung go on dates?”

“Ever since a few weeks ago,” Heeseung grumbled, taking bigger gulps from his bottle.

“I see,” Jake smirked, enjoying teasing the hell out of Heeseung. “Treat her well, Lee,” he meant that even though he made it sound lighthearted. It wasn't hard to piece two and two together, he just didn't want to poke his nose into your business. 

“I will, like my heart depends on it.”

The rest of the day eventually consisted of team celebrations and lots of picture taking with the media team. You accompanied Jake until the end and you felt like you could breathe once again when your back touched the bed of your hotel room.

It was barely evening time and you were already begging for sleep, even when Chaewon came in to invite you for dinner at some restaurant nearby, you had to decline and promised there'll be a next time. The silence in the room was what accompanied you while you texted Jake, rolling your eyes at some stupid comments he made, until you paused at the sight of a new notification.

championhee: up for an impromptu date?

you: i'm too tired to go out :(

championhee: who said we're going out? send me your room number and the floor you're in, i'll be there soon

That got you sitting up real fast. 

Heeseung was coming to your room and you're dressed unprepared, looking equally unready. You threw on a decent looking outfit, one that didn’t seem that you tried too hard, but at least your effort could be recognised. It was a fact you never worked well with sudden plans, this was an example of it.

You couldn’t even concentrate on the screen of your phone, attention constantly diverting to the door, knowing Heeseung would turn up at any minute. At this point, tiredness completely disappeared from your body, leaving you awake and alert enough for a date. 

Speaking of the devil.

The thoughts of him manifested into reality when you heard the knocks on your door, a quiet hum coming from the other side. It didn’t take a beat to know it was Heeseung. Your familiarity of him by now was astounding, almost as if you had his memorised and imprinted into your senses without your knowledge. You broke into a smile at the realisation of his presence, bounding towards the door to whip it open, meeting his smiling eyes.

“Hey, pretty,”

There it was again, that pet name he reserved specially for you, just you and no one else. It didn’t help that his messy, newly washed hair was falling perfectly onto his forehead, skin clad in a loose white t-shirt, a killer combo for you. 

“Are you not going to let me in or …?” 

You’ve stared too long, haven't you? Snapping out of your shameless ogle session, you opened the door wider, stepping away. “Come in, please,” 

“I brought some takeaway,” he held up two bags of food, flashing you a toothy grin that made his cheeks puff cutely. 

“Sweet,” you helped him with the bags, setting them on a low table, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable, and so he did. 

Heeseung sat himself down on the carpeted floor, manoeuvring the table closer to him before staring at your every movement across the room. Stars were lingering in his irises, he was looking at you like you were the brightest one in the sky. You turned around just in time to catch his gaze, a feeling of fireworks bursting in your heart. He didn’t need any words to convey his emotions, all it took was a single look at you.

“Let’s eat,” he patted on the spot next to him.

You nodded, casting him a friendly smile and sat down at that exact spot. You accidentally brushed against his shoulder from time to time, even as you reached for the food, you would make contact with him, the touches alone were enough to send an electric shock between you two. Nervous glances and small talks were exchanged, you could feel the tension in the air and you didn’t know if it was the beer Heeseung brought or you were just going insane.

“Lee Heeseung,” his name contrasted to the bitter aftertaste of beer on your tongue. By then, a few cans of beer were consumed, your eyes were starting to droop and to you, Heeseung was the universe at that moment. “Your attempts to make me fall in love are failing…”

“Hm?” The much sober man sitting next to you was leaning over to catch a better glimpse of you, curiosity and dread welling up in his throat at the sound of your words.

“Because…I think I’ve already been in love with you since the beginning,” 

Heeseung almost saw his life flash in front of his eyes. You were there in front of him, in all your glory, saying something that you probably wouldn’t remember in the morning whereas it would just stay with Heeseung until the day he dies. You couldn’t even sit straight, cheeks tainted pink and breath smelling like cheap beer, but you said those words with so much clarity that even Heeseung forgot you were drunk for a second.

“W–what?”

“Lee Heeseung,” you repeated his name again, and Heeseung swore he was much nervous now compared to fighting for his championship. “You’re right. Emotions and feelings are weird, I don’t know why but every time I see you … I just feel …” you pointed at your heart, “my heart feels full,”

“Are you drunk?”

“Yeah,”

“Did you mean what you say?”

“Yeah,”

Heeseung heaved a small sigh, lips forming a small smile. He got a hold of your arm, gently lifting you to your feet. “Let’s get you to bed, it’s late,”

“It’s only ten! Plus, they’re out clubbing, you can stay longer,” you pleaded, pulling on his sleeves despite barely having any energy left yourself. “I want you to stay,”

“I didn’t know you were this clingy when you’re drunk,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes following your movement as you climbed into bed, tucking yourself under the covers. “I’ll stay,”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Heeseung was always a man of his words. He sat next to your sleeping figure, having not much to do and thus was left to think about what you said earlier on. This was a first for him in a long time, to experience a complicated amount of feelings he’s never had until he met you and letting himself be vulnerable around you. What were you doing to him? Even when he left your room to walk back to his, all he could think of was your face and the look you had when you were with him.

It was the first time he has seen you so open to him. Maybe you were the same back when you drank together, but to be fair, Heeseung was equally drunk to even remember the full details. This time around, he got to see you and the secret messages hidden behind your gaze. That night, just like the first night he met you, he was in bed stuck awake just thinking about you. 

— THE 3RD DATE, MIAMI, USA, 2023

You were sure you embarrassed yourself in front of Heeseung that night in the hotel room. Waking up to a headache with minimal recollection the next morning had you realising drinking was truly your biggest enemy. However, you were surprised to see water and aspirin already prepared on your bedside table, and no, it wasn’t Chaewon that placed it considering she was knocked out flat. It was Heeseung. 

Groaning further into your pillow, you saw his messages asking if you were fine, to which you replied yes, but hesitating whether you should bring up the conversation you had. Look, you barely remembered it, but you knew you said something along the lines of being in love with him. That alone had you kicking your pillows in frustration.

Now here you were, in the middle of Miami, preparing for another week of work. The jet lag wasn’t even giving you a headache, it was Heeseung and the thought of him that caused it. 

He seemed fine, completely normal both over text and in person, but you just had a feeling that night had shifted something in the air someway or another. Worst part of all, you were both ignoring it, or you assumed Heeseung had brushed it under the rug. 

You pushed the thought to the back of your mind for the time being, going forward with the work you had on hand and busying yourself just to forget about him. But how could you do that when he loved announcing his presence at random times? 

It wasn’t even the weekend yet, precisely the evening before media day when Heeseung sent you a message. ‘Date?’ was self explanatory, but once he turned up on the doorstep of your hotel room, you feared your heart wasn’t going to last at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” you greeted rather awkwardly, trying to keep the door open while slipping on your shoes. Heeseung managed a smile, helping you hold onto the door and waited for you until you finally rushed out, joining his side. 

“Hey, you good?” Heeseung turned to look at you, sincere concern laced in his voice. It was probably your stiff smile or unnaturalness that he noticed, not knowing that you were troubled by the things you said to him.

“I’m good, very good,” you assured, though partially lying, casting a side glance at him. “I didn’t think you’d bring me out on a date right before the race weekend,”

“It’s our last date out of the three I promised, and I want it to be on a day where we’re both not tired and fighting for our lives,” he leaned his head down slightly to catch your eyes, flashing you a playful smirk. “Plus, the date I planned requires a little more … energy,”

“Energy?”

Energy and strength were truly what you needed. Heeseung had planned a skating date all along, a disco skating one, not to mention. It seemed that he had done his research too, the place wasn’t far from the hotel and you were able to make it there by foot. In no time, the two of you entered the indoor skating rink, the dim coloured lights and loud music welcomed you.

You waited on a bench until Heeseung came back with two pairs of skates, making big steps towards you with an excited bounce in his steps. Watching him and that stupid grin he has on his face totally had your heart flipping, mind yelling at you and eyes shining brightly. If it wasn’t obvious to him, you were sure others would’ve already noticed either way. 

“Have you done this before?” you took the skates from him and he plopped down next to you, turning his head at the mention of your question. 

“Skate? I have. Sunghoon is really good at this, on ice too. He brought me and some of the guys skating before,” his hands moved fast, pulling the skates on and lacing them within a minute, then noticing you haven’t even got yours on yet. “Here,” he gently took the skates from your hold, getting up and kneeling down to put them on for you.

“Y–you don’t need to—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let me,” he was staring up at you, and at that moment, in the dim lights, shadows on his face drawing out his beaming eyes, you felt something new. Heeseung glanced up once more, hands tying your laces skillfully. “Are you okay? You look a little … red,”

You didn’t even realise how hot you were feeling despite being in an air conditioned room. Were you okay? No, thanks to the man before you that always successfully has you become a flustered mess. “Y–yeah, fine, completely fine,”

By the time he was done, you swore you had trouble breathing every time he looked up at you. Something so casual turned into something more than just that. You had to remind yourself not to give in easily, but seeing him offer his hand and feeling the touch of his skin made your knees weak. “Shall we?”

“Truth be told, I’m a little scared,”

“First time?”

“Not really,” you frowned, your other hand coming to grip onto Heeseung’s forearm once you entered the rink. “Just … balancing skills,” 

“Hold onto my hand, I got you,” he squeezed your hand in reassurance, skating side by side and never loosening his hold once. “Listen to the music, it helps,” 

He wasn’t entirely wrong. With the help of ABBA and some Fleetwood Mac, you found yourself enjoying this more than you expected. It was much better when you finally gained the momentum and were able to balance better. Okay, there were a few slips and trips, but it only gave you and Heeseung a laugh, and seeing the way his lips curve into a smile, eyes forming a crescent shape, your face unknowingly smiled along.

“Are you ready?” 

You whipped your head to look at him, absolutely puzzled. “What?”

Heeseung let go of your hand, but before you could panic or slip, he slowed down until he was directly behind you, hands holding onto your waist. The foreign feeling of his touch on your waist had knocked the air out of your lungs, your body instantly turning still under his fingers. 

“Hey! This wasn’t part of the plan,” you tried turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, but you only heard his laugh.

“I wanted to get closer to you,” at that, you could practically feel his front almost pressing against your back, and you wondered where he got the sudden confidence from. “Can I get closer to you?” his breath was basically fanning against the shell of your ear, and as each second passed, you found your will crumbling.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” you coughed, trying to seem nonchalant, but knowing you were gradually failing at that. You were glad your back was facing Heeseung so that he didn’t have any chance to see your reaction. You were left in a blushing mess, unaware of how Heeseung was stifling his laugh behind you. 

Once your legs got tired from constantly skating around the rink and you were starting to be sick of the repeated songs, you and Heeseung decided it was time to leave. On the way back to your hotel, you were walking hand in hand, barely much space in between you and him. You glanced at him briefly, pursing your lips in thought. 

“Thanks for taking me out tonight. I didn’t know you were skilled at skating just as much as driving a racecar,”

“It’s my side gig,” he joked, smiling when you started laughing quietly. “I hope you enjoyed it. I wanted the third date to be something special, but most importantly, for you to have fun,”

“I had fun, just not the times I almost fell and broke my ankle,” you exaggerated, but half of it was semi-true.

“I would be there to catch you if you fall,”

“Oh, my knight in shining armour,” you fanned yourself, leaning your shoulder against his. You felt his shoulder shaking slightly from chuckling, seemingly bemused by you. “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,”

“I don’t want this to be our last date,”

Heeseung gave your hand a squeeze, maybe out of reflex or instinct, you didn’t know, but it was definitely unconsciously done. He slowly turned to meet your eyes, you didn’t expect the constellations of hope, confusion and love weaved in his irises, shining brightly as if they were trying to tell you a message in an unspoken language that only he understood. 

“Then it won’t be our last,” Heeseung almost sounded relieved, glad that it wasn’t just him that felt this way. “Who said I’ll stop talking to you after this? You’re unfortunately stuck with me whether you like it or not,”

“Sounds like a curse,”

“You’re not complaining either,”

“I’m not,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, flashing him a teasing grin that he reciprocated. “Are you walking me all the way to the door?”

Heeseung shot you a look of deadpan, as if asking ‘are you hearing yourself?’ “I’m not one to dump you down in the lobby and leave, am I?”

“Touche,”

All the way up to your room, you couldn’t help yourself from casting frequent glances at him. He was real, so real and breathing next to you. Yet, why did he seem so hard to have whenever your heart screamed for him? He was Lee Heeseung, a three times world champion that everyone loves and probably countless girls chase, you were just … you. Somehow, you were the one he chose.

“Will you let me take you out on a date some other time again?” Heeseung’s hand finally left yours, now standing in front of you and facing your hotel door, the number ‘111’ reminded him of his car’s number, number one. 

“Well … I’ll have to see, maybe,” you placed a hand on your chin, playfully irking him on, liking the way his tongue poked against the insides of his cheek. “I’m kidding, of course you can, I love spending my time with you,”

“You do?”

“If I don’t I wouldn’t have gone on these dates with you, Hee, obviously I love being with you,” the words wouldn’t stop pouring out, whether or not you were aware of it, Heeseung felt heat travelling up to the tips of his ears. “Let’s just say the objective of this whole date plan was achieved,”

It didn’t hit Heeseung until a second later. Did that mean the things you said that night were true? Not that he didn’t believe them either, he just thought he had heard you wrongly, or more rather he tried convincing himself that. Before Heeseung could utter a response, you spoke first, fully aware of what you said and your intended meaning behind it.

“Thanks again, for tonight and everything, Hee. I do have the best time whenever I’m with you,” you breathed deeply, fighting the urge to just turn around and run away instead of being in this tension filled environment. “I should get going now, and you too. Text me when you’re back, okay? Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t sleep too late.”

You nodded, turning around to unlock the door with your keycard, but the moment you heard a click sound, you didn’t immediately make a dash inside unlike the initial thought you had in mind. Instead, you faced Heeseung once more, noticing the confused smile he had on his face. Hell, you couldn’t believe you’re doing this.

Almost like a flash, you practically jumped towards him, pressing a kiss on his cheek that somehow landed much closer to his mouth. Your aim was ass, but it seemed neither of you mind. Heeseung definitely was the one who looked the most amused. His gaze was sweeping your figure, tongue poking out to sweep across his bottom lip.

“Bye!”

“Y/N—” 

That was when Heeseung snapped out of his momentary daze, but he was too late, you had already made your escape by slamming the door behind you. Standing there, heart beating quick, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you broke into a foolish smile, giggling all to yourself. 

“Have you gone insane?”

Chaewon peeped her head out from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging in his mouth, a humoured, yet concerned expression staring back at you. She most likely heard your hushed self talk and giggles, then presumed you’ve probably hit your head somewhere or got drunk. 

You grinned at her.

“Insane? Yeah.”

— MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Being back in Monaco for the grand prix was both a blessing and a curse. For the pros, you get to stay in your lovely home instead of hotel rooms, as for the cons, work was all you could think of. At least you’d get a comfortable bed to sleep in after a long day at the circuit.

Over the course of two weeks after that night in Miami, you realised you haven’t seen Heeseung much in person. He was busy in Italy even though the race was cancelled, must’ve been a Ferrari driver thing that he claimed over text. You were equally piled with work and personal matters too. Who knew the role of being Jake’s trainer slash assistant was stressful enough to wish you were strangling your own cousin. 

Thankfully, there was something better to look forward to compared to the current downside in your life. Minjeong, the person you’ve been waiting all month for, was finally in Monte Carlo, specifically in your house, catching up with the copious amount of drama about every aspect of your life. 

“Okay, enough about the annoying team principal,” Minjeong held her hand up, catching you off guard and dumbfounded. “I need to cut to the important part, your love life. Heeseung! You’ve barely been telling me about him,”

“I—well—there’s some good and bad things about my encounters with him,” you winced, recalling your drunken moment and that time on the beach. “The dates are all good, but I think the problem is me,”

“How so? Spill,”

“He told me he liked me,”

“What did you say?”

“I panicked,”

Minjeong was rendered speechless, silence overtaking your embarrassed smile while your best friend stared at you, unamused. “And why would you do that?”

“God, I don’t know,” you threw your hands up in defeat, body falling back into the couch. “The thing is, I don’t think I was ready. I was still figuring shit out, and it just … happened? I feel like a dickhead,”

“It’s normal, your feelings weren’t clear. He didn’t even react badly, that’s a plus point,” you listened to Minjeong, nodding along in agreement. “So, have you set your feelings straight now?”

“I have, I really do like him, I think I’m going insane at this point,” you ran a hand through your hair, chewing on your bottom lip. “I even told him I’m in love with him when I was drunk. Can you imagine that?”

“No, I can’t! You professing your love to a man? That’s a first from you,” she shook her head, a knowing smile growing on her lips. “I don’t see you acting this way with your ex either,”

“It’s different…” you mumbled under your breath, feeling heat travelling up to your cheeks. Here she was again, proving and pointing out something you didn’t even realise until then.

“It sure is,” she threw a pillow at you, cackling almost maniacally at your cowering figure. You were doing a poor job at hiding your shyness and blushing face.

The timing couldn’t have been any better when you heard a buzz coming from your phone, checking it just in time to see Heeseung’s contact name coming into view. Of course, Minjeong was already making noises when she saw your eyes widening, further proving her guess. You skimmed over his messages, and it seemed he had invited you to Jay’s yacht party. 

A party before race weekend? Risky, but who were you to say? Maybe you’d have to keep Jake in check first, remembering you’re still his trainer no matter what. Until then, you looked over at Minjeong, her raised eyebrow meeting your expectful gaze. 

“We have a party tonight.”

Let’s just say it was your first time being at a yacht party. Yachts weren’t an uncommon thing to have in Monaco as long as you had the money for it. Now that it was the grand prix weekend, only more turned up at the docks, and to think some of them were owned by the drivers themselves too was surprising. 

“Do you know anyone here?” Minjeong was sticking close to your side the moment you entered, being equally foreign considering a yacht wasn’t your typical go to party venue. You guessed you had to get used to it after knowing there would be a post race yacht party coming on Sunday. 

“Other than Jake, Heeseung and some drivers, no,” you offered an apologetic smile that wasn’t assuring in any way either. “But I bet there’s going to be good food and drinks here,” that was quick to buy Minjeong’s excitement.

championhee: you here yet?

you: am hereee, wru?

championhee: i see you, give me a sec

You glanced up from your phone, looking around but only seeing masses of people you weren’t familiar with, and the neon lights weren’t making it better for you, it was harder to match people to their faces. One turn to the left and you were just in time to catch Heeseung’s eyes, finally a face you recognised that seemed to melt your heart every single time. 

“Hey, pretty,” he ever so smoothly leaned down to swoop an arm around your waist, pulling you in a hug. If you had to be honest, it surely did surprise you, but you weren’t complaining. After that time you landed a peck on his cheek, you found yourself being much more touchy with him without your knowledge, and he surprisingly went along with it. 

“Hi, Hee. How’s the party?” he soon pulled away, the feeling of his embrace disappearing and the sweet scent of his cologne drifted further from you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? After all I invited you here,”

“You’re here longer than me, I wanted an insight,”

“An insight?” Heeseung hummed, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well, Jay is almost drunk even though it’s his party and his yacht. Jake is off somewhere, I told him you’re coming and I wished you saw the look on his face, he knew he was in trouble—”

“I’ll hunt him down tomorrow, don’t worry,”

Heeseung let out a snort, shaking his head at the thought of Jake getting a beating from his trainer. “The rest of them are just partying and dancing,”

“What about some of these other people?” you nodded at some girls at the side, then eyed a few guys shamelessly flirting with other girls. 

“I’m not involved in Jay’s invite process, but I think some of them are models, friends or just—I don’t know—known? I don’t think I know these people either,” he laughed a little at the end, following your gaze but it only landed back to your face in the end. “I know you kinda hate partying on some random day before the race weekend, so if you want to, you can always tell me, and we can just dip to somewhere else,”

“I mean … I really want to take up that offer but—”

A cough interjected you. Talk about divine timing. Minjeong was back from her small trip around the yacht, a glass of cocktail held in her hand. Her piercing gaze was all it took for you to know what she was trying to say, so you pulled her close to your side. “Heeseung, this is my best friend, Minjeong,”

“Hi, I’m Lee Heeseung,” he offered a courteous bow of his head, smiling politely at Minjeong. She was scanning him eye to toe, trying her best to keep a stoic expression. 

“Nice to meet you,” she raised her glass slightly, shooting you a knowing grin paired with her glinting eyes. Oh, that totally meant Heeseung had passed Minjeong’s ‘test’. “So … you and Y/N, huh?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you let out a stiff laugh, narrowing your eyes at her as she continued to smile at you, fully aware of what she’s doing. 

She leaned close to your ear, whispering quietly so that only you and her were able to hear. “I’m going to leave you to him and go around looking for my man for the night,”

“How are you getting back?” you whispered in a hushed tone, giving her a pointed look.

“I’ll have my ways. I’ll text you and you better text me too. For now, you have your fun,” there was a finality in her tone, and before you could argue on, she stood straight, staring ahead at Heeseung. “She’s yours for the night …” Minjeong gave your shoulder a light pat, leaving your side and brushing past Heeseung. “... loverboy,” she added teasingly, then disappeared into the sea of people. 

“Ignore her,” you waved your hands awkwardly, but it seemed Heeseung wasn’t fazed at all, totally bemused on the contrary of what you expected.

“I think she’s cool,” he gave a thumbs up, prompting you to roll your eyes at him. “Come on, let me introduce you to some of the guys, then we’ll grab some drinks,”

“Sounds good,”

It was your first time being properly introduced to part of the drivers. You’ve seen most of them in passing and knew who they were, but not till the point of knowing them on a personal level, that was new to you. There was Jeno who drove for Ferrari alongside Heeseung that you got to meet, and also that really hot tattooed driver, Jungkook, from Mercedes. If Heeseung hadn’t pulled you away sooner, you would’ve probably swooned over Jungkook more, just like every other girl in the vicinity did. 

Heeseung proceeded to drag you to some other place. It was then you saw some familiar faces that you were already introduced to since the beginning. Jay, the host himself, was genuinely pissed drunk by the time you went up to greet him, but at least he was sober enough to form sentences so you guessed that’s something. Then there was Sunghoon, the driver of Red Bull Racing that was accompanied by your cousin, Jake, looking a little cold at first glance, but his features instantly melted into a big grin at the sight of you and his friend.

Some small talks with them didn’t hurt, but it was the blaring music that did, mostly for your eardrums. The crowded area was unfortunately a no-go either, so you and Heeseung decided to seek refuge somewhere else, ignoring the interested whispers from his three friends that watched the two of you sneak away.

“Here you go, your shirley temple,” you were on one of those couches that were placed on the deck, most of them being empty since everyone was situated at some other place in the yacht, giving you and Heeseung a chance of alone time together. You were sipping on the mocktail Heeseung passed you, feeling his presence next to you.

“It’s been such a week,” Heeseung sighed, stretching his limbs. “Visited the factory back in Italy, then finished some business there and having to fly back to Monaco, I think this is one of my first relaxation times,”

“This party? You should be home sleeping instead, Hee, that’s proper relaxation,” you could see the dark circles under his eyes now that he’s mentioned it.

“Just wanted to find an excuse to spend time with you,” he leaned his head back slightly, wearing a wry smile on his tired face.

“You don’t need an excuse for that, you can always just tell me whenever,”

Heeseung nodded slowly, taking a sip out of his own glass, an obvious wave of relief passed through him. Your eyes, however, were stuck on him. No, there wasn’t alcohol that influenced you to do so, your mocktail was surely nonalcoholic, it was the fact that you realised how in love with Heeseung you were. 

Uh oh, you like him.

Wait.

Oh, you're in love with him. 

Under the changing hues of purple, blue LED lights, you found yourself coming to terms that you were truly whipped and flashing heart eyes at him. You watched his every movement, the way he blinked or even sip at his drink, you scrutinised them all, because to you, he was a nova that shined the brightest amongst the rest. 

“You okay?” Heeseung noticed the change in your behaviour, the tiredness in his face morphed into concern as he leaned in close to check on you, not realising how near his face was. 

“Huh?” That was the only thing you could manage out, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips, gradually shrinking under the intensity of his stare and the closeness of his face. He knew, you did too, but why were both of you holding back? What were you so scared of?

Magically and suddenly, the thoughts in your mind somehow manifested into reality when he started closing in. You felt your breath catch in your throat, conveying a sign of green light through a reassuring nod, trying to ignore your heart beating abnormally fast.  

Then there it was, Heeseung’s lips on yours and a burst of butterflies swarmed your abdomen. Was it real? Was this actually happening? The lingering taste of his whiskey left a bitter tang on your tongue when you kissed back, wanting more but before you could let it progress deeper, it had already ended.

Heeseung pulled away, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. You thought he was going to kiss you again, and you tried smiling, thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. But it seemed your sweet daydream was immediately crushed to the ground when Heeseung gradually got up from the couch, the look on his face was telling you things weren’t going great.

“Hee?”

An apologetic look flashed across Heeseung’s expression. “Fuck—I’m sorry,” 

“Wait—!”

You couldn’t grasp onto him and he slipped right through your fingers. There you were, confused and feeling the opposite of what a kiss should give. Did something go wrong, you wondered, or were you just too late? Too late to realise your love for him when he had already told you earlier on about how he felt about you. What did he even mean by apologising to you?

You tried searching for him around the place, but he was nowhere to be seen, only managing to find a surprisingly sober Minjeong that sensed your panic and despair. There was nothing you could do but slump in defeat, pulling Minjeong out of the yacht and back home.

First kiss with the guy you liked went wrong. Sounded like some clickbait YouTube title, didn't it? Well, it was actually reality, your reality.

To your absolute dismay, the race weekend was horrendous, at least for you.

Ever since that night in the yacht, you came to the realisation that Heeseung was avoiding you. Right, avoiding you like a plague whenever you caught sight of him or vice versa. 

How did you know? Well, there were multiple occasions to explain it but the most memorable was the time when you bumped into him one morning at your front door. It was actually the morning after the party, freshly awake and still confused from the night before, you wanted to question him once you saw him by his door, but from the way his door slammed faster than the speed for you to form a sentence, you could tell he did not want that confrontation.

Minjeong said maybe the kiss had shocked him, but he was also the one that initiated it. All of the guesses just seemed to meet dead ends. The day you dropped Minjeong off at the airport was when you knew you were left on your own to deal with Heeseung and your heart. No matter how you try to text him or get him to not run away at the sight of you, in the end it kept failing.

The sadness eventually turned into frustration, which explained your unannounced presence at the Ferrari hospitality right before the race. Were you insane? Totally. 

You knew where he was, and it wasn't hard to spot when they literally had a room dedicated to their world champion, making it easier for you to locate and bust the doors down. If you had to be honest, you wished you did.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You took no time to fool around and got down to business the moment you closed the door shut behind you. There was no one other than him in the room, thankfully, or else you'd be dying out of embarrassment first.

Heeseung dropped his phone in shock, not expecting you to turn up there and then. “W–what?”

Was he serious? “Are you avoiding me?” You repeated, standing with a hand on your waist, staring accusingly at him.

“No …”

“You're lying,” Of course he was. You could tell by the way he was chewing on the insides of his cheek when he said it, and it definitely wasn't helping his case. “So … we're not going to talk about that night? The night where you ran away after we kissed?”

“It's not that—”

“Then what is it, Hee? Why are you making me feel this way? Are you mad at me?”

“No, I'm not,” he denied at once, eyebrows furrowing in distress. “I could never get mad at you …” he mumbled quietly, and it only made you sigh in further agitation.

“Why can't you just tell me?” 

“Look, Y/N, now's not really the best time, the race's about to start soon and I have to be down at the tracks in ten minutes, we don't have the time to talk it over,” as much as you hate to admit it, Heeseung was right, there was barely enough time to talk. “How about we have a proper talk after the race?”

“You won't run away from me again, will you?”

“I won't,”

You couldn't exactly say he lied but he didn't stick to his words either. 

Winning the grand prix naturally got him swarmed by an obscene amount of people after the race, giving you zero chance to congratulate him or even slip in a word. Leading up to the celebration on the podium and the time after that, you still didn't get to have that 'talk' with him, nor did you see him. 

He wasn't home by the time you returned to your apartment either. It only made your heart heavier as each hour passed, your expectations seemingly getting crushed. You had to begrudgingly put on a presentable outfit for the yacht party, nearly forgetting about this matter until Chaewon brought it up and promised herself that she'd get shitfaced. Good for her.

Arms looped and hips bumping into each other, you and Chaewon made your way through the crowded yacht. The pool on the deck was the least surprising element of the yacht when there was literally a celebrity DJ controlling the music. You've taught yourself to be less surprised now that you're working here.

“To be honest, this is kinda overwhelming,” Chaewon whispered, glancing around. 

“Parties are overwhelming in general,”

“Well, this one's on a yacht. A yacht, and there's a pool too,”

“You have a point,”

“I need a shot—several shots—and find Anton too, he's like, a baby,” Chaewon just really wouldn't let that intern engineer go, would she?

“Go, go, that kid is probably lost somewhere too,” you laughed, thinking about the new intern that happened to give everyone a lasting impression.

“What about you?”

“I'll be fine, I'll just grab some drinks and go. I'm tired,” you weren't lying, a day's work was enough to take you out, you were shocked to see Chaewon still having a crazy amount of energy left in her after that.

Tired was an understatement though. You felt your energy draining away when Chaewon left, and you were alone to wander around in a yacht with countless strangers. 

There were a few familiar faces you recognised, both drivers and colleagues, but none were Heeseung. That was disappointing.

However, almost on cue once you weaved past a group of people, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you when you spotted him. Jet black hair, a black silk button up hung loosely on his frame, except he was sitting amongst a bunch of … models? Laughing? 

Your expectations only dropped lower to the pits of hell. 

Oh, you felt sick. A horrible feeling of jealousy and anger bubbled in your abdomen. If you could, you would've stormed up to him and grabbed him by his collar demanding an explanation, but instead, you were stuck to your position, unmoving.

How could he just sit there and laugh? All while you were promised a talk that never even happened. Why? Because he didn't bother to find you. Right.

Before you knew it, you were already walking away, the crack in your heart becoming bigger, tiredness overcoming you. Maybe this life wasn't meant for you after all. What if you and him weren't even meant to be in the first place? He was a worldwide famous driver, and you were just his friend's cousin that worked as his trainer, that alone sounded too different, too much of a contrast.

It didn't help that your mind was overthinking at that point onwards. All you needed now was your bed and a romcom to cry to. You guess that was your night routine sorted out.

Who knew liking someone everyone wants was this hard?

— BARCELONA, SPAIN, 2023

Lee Heeseung wished he was a little smarter.

He may be an ace, flourishing in racing and everything that life throws at him, he was good at anything and everything. Feelings, however, were another matter for a world champion like him.

That night, that kiss, had altered his brain in a way that he couldn't explain. Heeseung was always aware that he's into you. Hell, he was the one initiating the dates and flirty cues, who was he kidding? But that kiss got him overthinking.

Heeseung knew you were most likely interested too, considering you've never once rejected his advances. Yet, the problem wasn't there, it was whether or not you liked him, like actually like him. That kiss, did it matter to you just as much as it did to him, he thought.

That night on the beach where he confessed didn't help his case of overthinking either. Concerns after concerns piling onto one another. Heeseung knew you didn't reject him, but he couldn't tell if you reciprocated the feelings for him. Then, there was also that time when you got drunk and practically confessed your love to him, no what was that? Without any explanation either? See, Heeseung was trying to justify the mess going on in his mind.

So, being the person that he was, he chose to run before he had the chance to be dumped. Yes, Lee Heeseung was a coward in disguise.

It was an easy way out, or so it seemed at first, until Heeseung started to feel guilty, regretful and heartbroken over the fact that he was doing this. Truly the consequences of his own actions. But, he couldn't bear to face you either. 

Seeing you filled him with emotions and thoughts that were simply unbearable. When you burst through the door to confront him, he was truly rendered speechless at the sight of you. It was as if his ability to speak and think was taken away from him momentarily, and that only made him a fool while he tried to explain. 

He wanted to get close to you, he yearned to do so, to tell you how he felt and the entire truth, but he was holding himself back just because he figured he wasn’t ready for all that yet. It was indeed eating Heeseung from the inside out. That explained the reason why Barcelona was doing the opposite of cheering up, everything there was much duller and depressing from his point of view.

“Are you okay?” Jeno's voice broke Heeseung out of his trance. He wasn't even aware he was zoning out. 

“Yeah, why?” Heeseung got up from his spot to join Jeno, figuring it's time to prepare for the race.

“Dude, you've been so out of it this whole weekend—no—whole week, actually. Practice rounds, qualifiers, you're not driving like you normally are, and you just don't seem like yourself,” Jeno patted Heeseung's back, and Heeseung himself had a whole new revelation thanks to Jeno's eye opening observations. Maybe it was also your lack of presence that bugged him. Heeseung hasn't seen you around the paddock the whole week, and neither did he bother asking Jake since their schedules were too full with interviews and what not.

“I'll try to tune myself back, don't worry,” Heeseung gave Jeno a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, offering a slight smile. “Thanks for checking up on me. I need to find someone real quick before I get to the track, you go without me first,”

That ‘someone’ Heeseung had in mind was none other than you.

Heeseung probably looked like an unhinged racer walking around trying to search for you. He stopped by the Mclaren hospitality, then the Mclaren garage, but none of them had you there. 

He could only sigh, having to be forced to end his search since the race was starting soon. Was it bad to admit that he couldn't really think straight at that moment? All he had on his mind was you and you and only you. 

Lee Heeseung was never once nervous for a race. But this time, he was. 

The start wasn't the best for him, and he was having an overall weak start. The usual red Ferrari car that was meant to be leading the race suddenly fell behind there in Barcelona. He had a feeling the commentators were about to point it out. 

Heeseung has experienced bad races before. Ones that didn't go his way, technical failures, DNFs, but this one was just a plain disaster. There was nothing wrong with his car, it was him. He couldn't wait to get out of the car now that he knew he wasn't getting on that podium.

What almost felt forever and countless rounds of driving, Heeseung ended up in seventh place. Not the worst, but obviously not his best. He didn't even want to engage in interviews after the race, going straight to his hospitality and changing back into his usual clothes. 

“That wasn't like you,” Jake, being the caring friend that he was, had paid Heeseung a visit right before he left. Just like the drivers had done, the first thing he brought up was Heeseung's performance.

“I know,” Heeseung hummed, shrugging it off. “Just caught up with some … stuff,”

Jake didn't say much either, nodding in understanding. “I'll be here if you need anything, just so you know,”

“I know,” Heeseung said again, this time with a smile, then his mind redirected to a question he has been itching to ask Jake all week. “Uh—don't mind if I ask, where's Y/N?”

“Oh, Y/N? She didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She took a whole week of sick leave,” 

“She's sick?”

“Well, she didn't say she's sick but she said she's not feeling well enough to work,” Jake scratched his head, oblivious to Heeseung's deepening frown. 

“So, she's still in Monaco? She didn't leave at all?”

“Nope. After last week, she's still there,”

“Oh,” Heeseung knew what to do now. All it took was a disaster of a race and a whole lot of sleepless nights to overcome his fear and confront you once and for all. “I should get going,”

“You're not going to join me and Dokyeom for dinner?” 

“Maybe next time,”

Heeseung was going to make things right. He wasn't going to run away again, nor repeat the stupidest thing which was pulling the avoidance card. He's finally going to be honest about his thoughts and feelings. 

Flight booked and leaving in an hour. A two hour flight for him to collect his thoughts and soon he'd be back in Monaco, just in time to knock on your door and make things right.

Heeseung had a one way flight ticket to Monte Carlo, a whole dialogue he prepared in his head, and a dream. It was going to be alright.

— MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Staying in bed and mulling around wasn't a part of your original plan.

You thought having this time to yourself was going to be spiritually and mentally cleansing, giving you enough space to get yourself together, but it was doing the opposite. 

To think that you're, in fact, being sad over a man was quite incredulous. But it was Heeseung, somehow or rather, he wasn't just a man. Curse him and his apartment next to yours, you couldn't stop thinking about him even though he wasn't there.

During the days you were at home, you thought it over, about Heeseung and your feelings for him, all of which returned to the same conclusion. You liked him, very much so, and you were hurting that he was physically ghosting you. The more you think about it the more you try to find solutions which end up failing. Thus, you were in a slump and merely survived by listening to Minjeong's pep talk over the phone.

“He'll turn up,” you remembered her saying, sounding so confident that you were somewhat surprised. She was actually confident in a man … that was a rare sight.

“How do you know?”

“It's Heeseung.”

It really was Heeseung. That was what you thought too when you heard your doorbell ringing, peeking through your peephole just to see his face. Was it the wrong timing to admit you've missed him?

There was no way you could be so heartless to not open the door, especially when you've been spending most of your time thinking about him and the possibilities of what he'd say. So, you opened the door, eyes meeting his much tired and saddened pair, a sense of familiarity ran through you. 

It was currently almost nine o'clock, the sky was dark and the streets were more quiet, but how in hell was Lee Heeseung standing in front of you when there was just a race hours ago? You were literally watching the race too, recalling Heeseung's off-putting performance that shocked everyone, including you.

“Heeseung?”

He seemed to have broken out of his trance, mouth opening just a little, trying to utter a single word but nothing came out. You raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, wishing he could say something, anything at this point.

“Do you like me?”

When you said you wish he could say something, this was the least expected one.

“What?”

Heeseung heaved a breath, looking slightly disappointed … at himself? He rubbed a hand on his face, frowning deeply. “Fuck—I swear I had a whole monologue for this, but I saw you and I just … couldn't think anymore,”

You gulped, the edge in his voice paired with his longing eyes made you shift your foot nervously. “Why are you here?” It didn't come out malicious or rageful, instead it sounded like defeat and tiredness, as if you've surrendered yourself. “Weren't you in Spain a few hours ago?”

“I figured we should have our talk,”

“Took you long enough,” you grumbled under your breath, a sour expression unknowingly pulled at your features. 

“I know, I'm sorry,”

You were silent for a moment, blinking furiously and formulating your words carefully. “You ran away from me, again, but you said you wouldn’t. You lied,”

“I know,” it came out as a bare whisper, emotions filled to the brim, regret and guilt evident in every letter. 

You didn't know what to say next, all the emotions trapped in you melted through your gaze, a mix of sadness, anger and desperation was calling out to Heeseung. His 'sorry' didn't make you feel better in any way either. If you had to be completely honest, you wanted to be mad, you wished to be angry at him and yell out every one of your frustrations that built up over the weeks, but it never happened.

“Heeseung, I don't really get you. What do you want from me?” you started, nearly pleadingly, backing up from the door as a way to tell him to come in, and thankfully, he got the signal. The door shut with a click of the lock, his figure approaching slowly. “One day you say you like me, we kissed, you proceeded to ignore me, then I saw you with girls at the party, and now you're asking if I like you? What am I supposed to do? Do you just secretly hate me or something?”

“What? No!” Heeseung scrunched his face up in confusion, but it soon dissolved into a look of helplessness, seeming equally awkward and stiff as you, both not knowing what to do. “God, I didn’t do anything with those girls, Yeonjun dragged me there and tried to set me up but I reciprocated nothing. You’re the one I want, Y/N,” there was a recognisable truth and honesty behind his voice, and you believed him. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I did some thinking—a lot, actually—and I'm a dumbass for ignoring you and running away after we kissed. But it's for a reason,”

“And that is …?”

Heeseung's shoulders sagged, sighing deeply. “I was scared you didn't like me,” he started, eyes flickering between you and the painting behind you, “—I know it sounds stupid but I just couldn't help but think about it. That night I told you how I felt … I thought it was fine when you didn't tell me an answer, yet it ate me up gradually after you said you were in love with me? But you were also drunk? You didn't say anything after and I didn't too,

“When we kissed, I wondered if you'd regret it, or that you didn't feel the way I did, I guess it got the worst of me so I chose to run before you could do anything,” he finally admitted the reasons behind his whole avoiding game, leaving you rather speechless in a way you couldn't comprehend. “It's stupid for me to do that, I know, that's why I'm here now, and I swear to you that I'm not going anywhere until we talk it out,”

You took in his words, trying your best to absorb it all, but his voice saying 'do you like me' was the only thing running through your mind.

‘Like’ would be an understatement when it came to your feelings for Heeseung. There were no limits, no boundaries whatsoever, nothing that just stopped at the word ‘like’. You felt for him, in a way that was indescribable and deeper than you've ever experienced before.

“I want you, Y/N, but I want you to want me too, that's what I want from you. I know you're mad and I get it—”

“I like you too,” the confession flowed out much more naturally than you had anticipated it to be. It was a part of you that you've held onto for so long, and finally, you're able to let it go, telling Heeseung your true feelings.

Heeseung blinked, mouth slightly ajar. “W–what?”

“I like you, Heeseung, a lot.” It took more than just mental strength for you to come to terms and admit it aloud, but you weren’t regretting a single thing either way, finally feeling the heavy weight being lifted off your chest. “I like you and your obsession with ramen, the way you smile or laugh, or how your nose crinkles everytime you laugh. I like every part of you, I–I think I might be in love with you,”

Heeseung could see the nervousness coming off you, your voice already shaking a little. He wanted to just rush towards you and pull you into his arms, but it wasn’t the best idea considering the situation. So, he stayed rooted to the ground, his gaze turning softer as seconds ticked by.

“I want you, more than you could ever think or fathom. I always did. I'm sorry I didn't make it clear in the beginning when you told me. I was still figuring all of it out and how I felt, so I just … froze. Then drunk me decided to tell you what I was scared to admit, but all of it was true—the things I said—so there's that,” you tried putting on a smile, but it wasn't much either. “When we kissed, I didn't regret it, not one bit and never would I ever think that. You mean a lot to me, Hee, and I'm sorry I didn't make you feel that way but I really, really like you, and I wish I had told you sooner,”

Heeseung was silent for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed and he had an unreliable expression that made you unnerved. However, it all melted away in the second, the corners of his lips were pulled up into a small smile, a certain reassurance hidden behind it. You felt balance and peace being restored gradually. “Are you kidding? You do make me feel that way. You don't understand how insane you get me every time. Y/N, you could get me to drop anything and anywhere if you want, even if it's in the middle of a race I'm leading. You make me feel more than you know of it,”

It was one of those times where everything felt like a movie. Heeseung professing his love for you in the middle of your living room was the last you’d come to conclusions, and it was surreal to think about. He had already shown you his devotion by showing up at your doorstep, there was obviously no doubt in what he said.

“I’ll be honest,” you began, chewing on your lips at the thought, “I'm still a little mad at you for doing what you did though,” you admitted rather pettily, crossing your arms and staring pointedly at him. “I can't believe you'd think I don't like you when I literally kissed you back,”

Heeseung was relieved that the mood was lightened a bit more, being able to crack a smile and chuckle quietly. “I panicked. I was scared of ruining everything we had,”

You couldn’t help but frown, mainly out of the solemnity his words carried. Heeseung didn’t want to ruin the connection you and he had, choosing to carry the burden that ended up hurting the two of you. “I get it, I wasn't any better too for being so vague. I accept your apology, and I'm sorry too,”

“Apology accepted,” Heeseung started approaching you, taking strides across the space separating you two until he was directly in front of you, looking vulnerable and bare, laying his heart out just for you. “So … we're cool then?”

“Yeah, we're cool,” you nodded much faster than you thought, showing off an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm that you didn’t hold back, “but …”

He was intrigued, wondering what he was getting into. “But?”

“I don't want us to go back to being just friends,”

Heeseung paused, opening his mouth just to shut it again, the confusion turned into amusement, his grin widening. “I'd be crazy to come all the way just to friendzone you,” he shook his head, “We've done the dates, practically said what we wanted to say, all that's left now is …” 

You knew what he was intending, and so did he. He has an eyebrow raised, one corner of his lips curved into a lopsided smirk. “So … what do you say? Can I be yours?”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped closer to him daringly, closing the distance between one another. There was a beat of silence, the only sound filling the air was your breathing and his shaky breaths. Then, you decided to do the craziest thing.

“I thought you'd never ask,” those were the last words uttered from your mouth when you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips onto his. You could feel Heeseung freeze under your touch, but it didn’t long for him to calm his nerves and relax, melting further into the kiss and letting his hands roam to your face and waist.

This was nothing like the first kiss you shared with Heeseung. It was something much more than that. There was a sense of urgency that you and him both knew and acknowledged. An overwhelming amount of longing and desire was finally conveyed through the kiss, telling you what you needed to know from the way Heeseung tilted his head to deepen the kiss, smiling against your lips after. 

Fireworks exploded internally, your mind was blank, the only thing in your head was the thought of him and the feeling of his lips. It was a new feeling, his lips moving against yours was almost like a fitted puzzle piece, too perfect and incomparable. It was a feeling you craved to have forever.

Before anything could advance further, you pulled away slowly, catching your breath in meantime. Looking at Heeseung, he was already staring at you, eyes filled with love and admiration. It was just silence, but you were basking in it, relishing the moment and his presence.

Heeseung leaned down to peck your lips, then again, and again on both sides of your cheeks, nose, forehead, and back to your lips once more. “I like you so much, more than the feeling of my cold pillow, or ramen, o–or even winning a race,”

All it took was one look at your face and seeing your smile to have Heeseung's nervousness disappear, replaced with a love filled smile that resembled the glow of the golden hour. A kiss from you was enough of a response, expressing your feelings more than words were capable of, whispering cheesy compliments to each other in an attempt to get one of you to laugh. 

“I guess I can say I'm a champion now?” Heeseung held you in his arms, his gaze holding yours. 

“Not quite,” 

“I finally got the girl I'm in love with. I consider myself as a champion, actually,” you were trying not to show how flustered you really were when he said he's in love with you aloud, catching you off guard for a second.

“You're never not going to be cheesy, aren't you?” 

“Never,” Heeseung gave your waist a squeeze, admiring the way you laughed along with the crinkles of the corner of your eyes. “I'll win the championship for you too,” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “For me? Shouldn't it be for yourself?”

Heeseung hummed, pursing his lips a little. “I never really had someone other than my family to dedicate it to, and I want you to be that someone, my someone,” 

Eyes rolling but that smile on your face gave it all away. “Well, I can't wait for you to win it, Mr World Champion … my world champion.” 

Never in a million years would you expect yourself to be cheesily flirting with an F1 driver, but here you were. There was one thing that Heeseung made you feel for the first time in years, and that was love, irrevocable love that you would never trade anything for.

— ABU DHABI, UAE, 2023

It has finally reached the last race of the season. 

Everyone in the stands, paddock and garage alike were all nervously moving around. Some anticipating the outcome, others betting money on it, the ones working in the garage were holding their breaths. 

There were still a few hours left to lights out and you were giving your usual pep talk to Jake, except this time it was a little more harsher. Being third in the championship leaderboard, you were immensely proud of his achievements, and you were encouraging him to give it one last shot. He gave you a salute before walking away to discuss some last minute strategies with his teammate, so you took it as a chance to slip away under Jake's nose to find Heeseung.

Jake was rather oblivious about you and Heeseung, but to be fair, everyone was, maybe except Minjeong who definitely screamed into your ear when you told her everything. 

Sneaking into Heeseung's hospitality has been one of your greatest skills over the past few weeks. You go in greeting the staff all friendly, pretending to be looking for a friend working there (which wasn't completely a lie) then you proceed to slip into his room. It was a day like before, but this time, Heeseung was already waiting by the door, and the moment you walked in, barely closing the door, he had you in his arms and lifted off your feet. 

“Heeseung” You squealed at the sudden approach, his spin only making you kick your feet in the air, your hand hitting his back.

“Hey, pretty,” he set you down back on the ground, a playful grin drawn on his face, arm still looped around your waist. “Missed you—” he brushed his nose against yours, giving you a small peck that left you blushing, “—like crazy”

“Hee, I saw you physically two days ago,” you rubbed his back, letting him press gentle kisses on every part of your face. 

“That's still a long time,”

You snorted at his never changing dramatic response, pinching his shoulder and he pouted at you like a wronged puppy. “Last race, you think you got it?”

“‘You think’? I know I do,” typical Heeseung, full of confidence and carrying himself with pride, you were to know by now to not doubt him. “I win this—all of this—will you let me ask you to be mine? Officially?”

Your gaze softened, your hand on his shoulder tightened a little, offering him a warm smile for more assurance. “It doesn't matter when or where you ask me, whatever the circumstances are, you already know my answer to it whether or not you win,”

Heeseung tugged you closer to him, your front basically pressed against his, only a few mere inches distanced you and him apart. “I know,”

“I’ll wait then,” your hand rested on his chest, your smile telling him there was nothing to worry about. “I’ll wait for the exact moment you cross the finish line and win it all,”

“Trust me, I'm going to.”

Situated in the Mclaren garage, you held your breath watching the fight between Heeseung and Jungkook for first place. Jungkook from Mercedes was second on the championship leaderboard, points only a fraction away from Heeseung, causing a tension-filled season of rivalry. For the last race, they were soon going to end it once and for all, concluding a winner of the season, explaining your sweaty forehead thanks to the nerves.

“Okay, Heeseung or Jungkook,” Chaewon brought up out of the blue when there were five laps left, Heeseung still leading but Jungkook occasionally giving many heart attacks by closing in.

“Heeseung,” you and Sakura both said in unison, clapping in excitement knowing you had the same picks. 

“Boo, I’m team Jungkook,” Chaewon frowned, watching Heeseung and Jungkook’s gap widening. 

“You’re kidding,” Sakura nudged Chaewon in surprise, whereas you kept quiet, a raised eyebrow being your response.

“Jungkook’s hot and beefy and tall, he’s also tattooed, you know?” Chaewon was practically drooling, dazedly starstruck. “Plus, he’s super nice and can drive,”

“Heeseung’s the same too,” you were quick to defend your man, though toning it down a bit to not come off too aggressive or suspicious. “Well … except the tattooed, beefy part,”

“That’s two points deducted,”

“It’s two against one so Heeseung won,” Sakura ended the debate, pointing at the screen to divert Chaewon’s attention. “He’s basically winning too,”

He really was. One lap left and he was inching closer to the finish line. The clock was ticking, your blood was thrumming, the shouts coming from people around you were tuned out. Your sole focus was trained on his red Ferrari car, the finish coming in view. One second passed, two seconds, three seconds, four …

“LEE HEESEUNG IS A FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION!”

Claps and shouts of congratulations rang throughout the garage for Heeseung. The Mclaren duo had come in third and fifth places individually, heightening the atmosphere to great heights at the news of grand results as an end to the season. You were on your feet, hugging both Sakura and Chaewon, them being unbeknownst to your actual elation.

All of you rushed out of the garage, managing to squeeze past the reporters and their cameras to the front of the barricade, seeing the top three drivers getting out of their cars. Jungkook who came in second congratulated Heeseung, but Chaewon’s fangirling beside you mostly distracted you. What can you say, her devotion to Jungkook was understandable in some ways. 

It was then you caught Heeseung’s eyes in the midst of everything. Sweat covered his face and drenched his hair, but it only made him glow under the night sky and bright lights. You didn’t even have the time to process it all. He was taking big strides towards you, not giving a care if every pair of eyes were on him, all he had on his mind was you. 

You opened your mouth to congratulate him as he approached you, but before you could say anything, he had already pressed his lips onto yours the moment he was in front of you. 

Gasps and the clicking sound of cameras were heard, yet you gathered everything in you to shut your eyes and kissed him back. Kissing him wasn't hard, it was natural, far too natural like it was an instinct. His lips moved against yours gently, loving and pouring out his overflowing want for you.

All heads were turned over to gawk at you and Heeseung. It was hard to ignore the burning stares and flashes of camera lights, so you pulled away from him (reluctantly) to save yourself from being plastered everywhere on the media, which seemed a bit too late by now.

“Let me be your boyfriend?” He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to catch on and flash him one of his favourite smiles. 

Hard to hide your excitement and happiness, you nodded feverishly, the corners of your lips were pulled upwards. “Yes,” you pressed a swift kiss on his lips, your face burning to the brim, completely the opposite of Heeseung who managed to maintain his composure.

“My beautiful girl, what should we do now?” Heeseung cheekily commented, talking as if he wasn't standing right in front of a huge crowd right after winning another world championship. He knew damn well he had to get onto the podium and celebrate like there's no tomorrow.

“Well, my world champion boyfriend, as much as I wish to hoard you, you should go celebrate already,”

He leaned in close to you, whispering into your ear. “I'll let you hoard me all you want after,” shooting you a wink, he waved goodbye and left, disappearing into a crowd of people and leaving you flustered along with your dumbfounded colleagues.

“What was … that?” Chaewon slowly turned to look at you.

“Oh my God, you're dating Lee?” Sakura gasped for maybe the hundredth time already. “Okay, that's probably why he's a winner, huh? Because he has Mrs Lee here—”

“YOU'RE WITH HEESEUNG?” 

Shit.

Jake came into view, strands of hair stuck to his face didn't help his distress look either. No doubt, confusion was written all over his face, a raised eyebrow that was expecting an answer from you.

“Jake! Podium!” One of the staff shouted over at him. He, who placed third, didn't seem like he wanted it now that he has something else to uncover.

“You owe me an explanation.” Jake wasn't angry at all, he just looked thoroughly confused at the fact that one of his best friends was with his … cousin? Slash trainer, slash assistant, you get the gist. But at the same time, he also had that 'I knew it' shit-eating grin plastered on his face that you were very familiar with, he probably knew it was coming, didn't he?

Jake was eventually pushed to the back of your mind for the time being, mentally taking notes to deal with him after, but for now, the celebration was the crucial part of the night.

Watching Jake on that podium made you emotional, you couldn't lie. It reminded you of the many times you've seen him win at tournaments, and now, at F1 races, which was absolutely surreal. 

Gazing up at the stage where the podium was, your eyes followed Heeseung's figure appearing, and listened to his name being called on the speakers, the title of world champion belonging to him. He stood high and proud on the podium, eyes searching for someone in the crowd. Turns out, it was you he was looking for.

He mouthed your name the moment he locked eyes with yours, face visibly beaming like a star in the night. 'For you' was what came from his lips next, his finger pointing at the trophy in his hand then back at you. He was dedicating it to you, just as he said.

The smile on your face was evident to everyone how whipped you were for him, even giggling as you waved at him. Heeseung, being the person that he was, blew a flying kiss at you right before the national anthem played, and you were stuck there in shock. At this point, you should be prepared for things like that.

The night eventually rolled into the early morning. Heeseung was back at the hotel with you, secretly hiding out in your room while everyone else was mostly still out partying. It was just the two of you, on your bed with some room service as snacks.

“Shouldn't you go party with them instead of being stuck here with me?” You shoved a french fry into your mouth, not regretting your choice of returning early from the party to have a mini one on your own, plus Heeseung as an addition.

“I would rather be stuck here with you than with them,” Heeseung leaned onto your side, face obnoxiously getting closer, “You know I'll always choose you,” 

Even under the dim lights, you could make out the sparks hidden behind his stare. “You're my girl after all,” he added, ever so smoothly throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Isn't that crazy? You're my girl, my girl!” He dramatically gasped, feigning disbelief that you were, in fact, his.

“Yes, I am your girl, you idiot,” you reached to pinch his nose, and his face scrunched up, the biggest smile appearing on his face. Before you could retreat your hand, he had already grabbed onto it, fingers eventually making contact with yours and intertwined. “What are you doing?” It was a small whisper, curious and anticipating.

“This—” one pull of his hand, he yanked onto yours and pulled you into him, catching your face gently and pressing his lips onto yours. 

The only way to describe your thoughts was insanity. His small stunt had left you fighting for yourself internally, blood pulsing and heart skipping. He was the death of you.

You pushed him away after a few moments, having to catch your breath, but mostly to regain your composure. “Oh my God,” you breathed out, neither of you looking away from each other. “You're … wow,”

“Too cliche?”

“Is it bad if I admit I eat it up every time?”

“I don't have any more up my sleeves, I'm afraid,” he laughed, joking light-heartedly, turning his  head slightly to the side. “Can I have one more?”

“One more?” You hummed, fingers rubbing your chin in thought, continuously teasing him. “Why should I?”

“I asked nicely,” he poked at his cheek expectantly, lips jutting out in a pout. “Please?”

Only you could have Heeseung act this way. The reigning Formula One champion, could you believe that?

You didn't say anything, leaning in and pressed a peck on the spot he pointed out on his cheek. A satisfied smirk told you everything you needed to know, his hold on your hand tightening. “I'm in love with you,” he confessed, a spur of the moment kind of confession that you were already aware of, but to hear him say it again got your heart skipping in ways you didn't know. “I'm basically the luckiest man in the world right now,”

“Shouldn't I be the lucky one too?” You nudged at his ribs softly, unable to contain your laugh. “I'm lucky to have you with me, like super lucky,”

Heeseung crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows with a pinch of amusement. “Really?”

“Really. I get to have good ramen whenever I want,” you grinned foolishly at him, seeing his face morphed into a look of disbelief. You shook your head, stifling your laughter at his reaction. “But I like you more than your home cooked ramen,”

Warmth spread over his expression, a soft glow to his features under the light brought out the way he stared at you, irises written with words he couldn't convey with his mouth. He was undeniably head over heels, it was already clear from the look of his eyes, they never lie.

“I don't think Chaewon's coming back tonight, she'll probably crash in Sakura's room,” you gave his hand a light squeeze, glancing over at the clock for a split second, it was already past two. “Can you stay?”

Heeseung's expressions were filled with love and affection, a softness to them that he only had with you. You already knew his answer before he had to say it out loud. “I'll stay. You know I'll always do.”

Somehow, you knew his simple promise for the night carried something more to it. It wasn't just a promise that lasted for a night, it was for a lifetime ahead of you. Because you knew, no matter what, he would always stay. 

From the front door of your apartment to a random hotel room in Abu Dhabi almost a year later, it was crazy to think that a Formula One world champion had scored his biggest win yet: the girl next door, his oblivious neighbour that wasn't even aware of him or his popularity in the first place.

Turns out, meeting his oblivious neighbour was one of his greatest moments in life ever, because now, Lee Heeseung might not know what to do without you. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[yuoimia]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ SAVED NUMBERS

summary: you’re not the only one trying to keep it together (conversations over the phone) based off this scene from summer strike. characters: alhaitham, kinich, childe notes: fluff, teasing, mention of anxiety in kinich’s, wc: 1.3k

alhaitham

A sudden pattern of musical chimes sliced through the silence of the dark bedroom.

Automatically, a cathartic groan and yawn escape from your mouth as you blindly manoeuvred your hand across your nightstand, finally seizing the source of the irritating noise. A tap of your finger revealed the time and responsible caller.

“Is he crazy?” you abruptly sat up, roughly rubbing your eyes as if it there were some kind of mistake. “It’s 4am, for goodness sake.” Nevertheless, your finger swiped to answer the call, sinking yourself back into the warmth of the thick blankets and pillows and holding the phone close to your ear.

“Do you know what time it is?” you drawled, switching your attention from the ceiling to the phone.

“I couldn’t sleep,” came a breathy reply, those three words fluctuating in audibility. A faint hint of laughter. “But to answer your question, yes I do. It’s 4:06am.”

His voice is tender and doused in fatigue, a rare state to find the illustrious scribe. Gentle rustling of a comforter and indistinct breaths over the line. How close was he holding the phone? As if instinctual, you raise a hand against your lips to suppress any traces of nervousness and regulate the rapid beating echoing in your chest.

“You haven’t fallen asleep yet, have you?” he asked albeit suddenly, the sounds of movement halting.

You turned over and pulled the blanket to signify your consciousness, clearing your throat. “No,” then smiling as you added, “does my absence go as far as to completely disturb your precious sleep?”

Despite the cool emptiness of the night, the momentous distance that separated you both felt unimportant and forgotten. “You’re so bold.” Imperceptible traces of adoration intertwining within his voice, “but you’ve never been wrong when it comes to me.”

kinich

The scent of salt and sweet fruit juice swept through the open window of your rented cabin, sweeping the sheer curtains that adorned the wooden sides in graceful arches. Beyond the intricate frames stretched the breathtaking vastness of a tired sky, dwindling from its vibrant hues to a soothing navy blue, the prelude to a serene night blessed with stars. Faraway music and laughter echoed through the rolling hills of the People of the Springs, their infectious celebrations spilling through the evening, washing away any last remnants of worry or doubt that were previously clawing in your guts. It felt strange, almost eerie, somehow. Everything that once seemed so big and important felt so small and trivial against the quiet sanctuary where thoughts could gather by choice. This fragile feeling of saturated peace was always depicted as something temporary, and perhaps it was, but its value always lasted infinitely.

You take a step back and turn yourself to survey the cabin, leaning your hands against the windowsill. A coastal design with a minimal palette of blues and greys. Warm lamps scattered from the corners of the room to the ceilings of the ensuite. Puffy armchairs and beige bohemian couches around the edges of the bed, generously sized and cocooned by thick blankets and billowy pillows.

From beneath one of the blankets, a faint light emits through the fabric, simultaneous with the constant vibrating. The contact name elicits a soft smile, wasting no time to slide your finger to answer the call.

“I thought you’d forget,” you admitted, sinking yourself into the plush mattress. You laid on your back, an outstretched arm over your head as another held the phone.

“I’m offended that you thought so,” came his lofty reply. He was always so casual with his way of speaking. Blunt in some eyes, but equally endearing.

“I don’t have much time before Ajaw comes back,” and as if sensing your confusion, he adds, “I sent him on an… impromptu and urgent mission.”

His earnestness, so refreshing in the midst of such a quiet evening, brought forth a fit of laughter that resonated in your chest, and spread through the form of euphoria into your veins, warm and delicately precious. “It’s not late yet. Did you trick Ajaw into completing your commissions for you?”

His response was a half-hearted ‘hmm’. If this was a video call, you’re 99% sure that it would be accompanied by an even more half-hearted shrug. A moment to close his eyes, too.

“Poor Ajaw,” you jested, leaning to your side. “Out doing his master’s work while he handles other things he deems more important.”

“This is more important,” Kinich replies thoughtfully. “I wanted to say I love you before you went to sleep.”

For a fleeting moment, you’re completely suspended in silence, as if time momentarily halted. Did you hear that right? Of course you did; it wasn’t anything shocking. He was probably teasing you, provoking a reaction, like usual.

“The sun is still setting; what made you think I’d sleep this early?” You were nosy now, curiosity piqued at what he had to reason. I wanted to say I love you. It chanted like a spell, casting you into a dazed and smiling mess. I wanted to say I love you.

“The People of the Springs pride themselves on their bustling atmosphere. You’re not the type to miss out on that. Knowing you, you’ve probably exhausted yourself and are lying in bed as we speak.”

Bingo, bingo, and bingo.

childe

Only three more hours…

Boredom and exhaustion rippled through your body as you cupped your face in your hands, leaning absentmindedly over the front counter of the Northland Bank. Ornamental decorations occasionally twinkled when someone would enter, lazily drifting for a few seconds before falling back right into place, mirroring your state quite accurately. Each person was greeted in the same, uniform way. You’d briskly straighten with a polished smile, brightly posing a list of questions everyone would be asked before slouching back down once you successfully redirected them to an appropriate staff member.

“It would probably be dark by the time I’m out,” you mumbled with a ghost of a pout at the door, gazing half-heartedly at the tinted panels lined near the ceiling. Spotting a loose pen on the floor, you bent to retrieve it when the sound of a phone ringing from a cupboard caught your attention.

Answering personal calls while on the job was a strict regulation that was generally prohibited. Even so, you pondered, folding your arms and sneaking sideways peeks at the entries to empty hallways, so painfully desolate that even it too seemed opposed to any opportunity for distraction, those heedless and sickeningly pompous higher-ups would never dream of working on a Saturday afternoon, more or less care if a forgettable receptionist were to be caught on the phone.

“Hello?” you answered flatly, clearly disinterested in who the caller was from the way you didn’t bother to check the contact name before holding the phone close to your ear. Indistinct sounds of metal clashing and dull thuds echoed in response, and oddly, the bubbling of rushing water.

“Hello?” you repeated once again, a bit more forcefully in case the recipient couldn’t hear over the bizarre assortment of noises. A new round of agitation flushed through your body at the callers purposeful disregard, heat clambering up your face. Within the second you seriously contemplated hanging up, a panting voice emerged, and with it, a fervent series of persistent coughing and choking.

“Hey, don’t hang..up,” the voice, weak but evenly enthusiastic. “Sorry about that, I called, then a random army of treasure hoarders started attacking me from nowhere, and I had to-“

“Is this who I think it is?” Pausing in disbelief from amazement, you felt surges of every possible emotion colliding against each other in nauseating rounds inside your head. Hearing his voice so close by your ear whilst being surrounded by the bleakest of places felt like a taste of something divinely transcendental.

“Who else?” a breathless laugh came from the person on the other line. “I know…you told me to not call you unless it was an emergency, but hey, i’ve got your attention now, and I’d like to savour that for as long as I can.”