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#quiet does not equal good
gramarobin · 19 days
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🫣
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floralovebot · 2 years
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Could Helia also be described as shy?
honestly? no not really! he definitely has moments where he could be seen as shy, everyone does, but it's not something that happens enough for it to be Part of his character.
within the first few minutes of meeting everyone, he's very confident and practically outright flirting with flora. he's also never been shown to be scared of talking to someone or doing something. he flirts with flora, directly confesses (kinda in front of everyone too), gets straight up naked near riven, like this guy really does not care about anything akjhgkahdkg
i think it's important to recognize that while helia can be very quiet and he definitely chooses not to interact with people he doesn't want to (like the trix in that one issue), he's not shy. for him to be shy, he would need to feel very timid, not confident, or even scared of talking to other people/doing things in public and that just isn't something that happens to him like,,, ever. honestly, you could try to argue that riven is shyer than helia is.
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aro-ortega · 1 year
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replayed beck. they kissed rayyan this time, and im glad it was like a good heated rivals at the locker kiss. perfect. mwah
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tojigasm · 1 month
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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.
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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."
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euthymiya · 3 months
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camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna
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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)
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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.
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High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY
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sleyu · 1 year
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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.
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revasserium · 1 year
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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 :)
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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.
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prael · 8 months
Text
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
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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."
2K notes · View notes
jaylver · 8 months
Text
LOVE AT FIRST SPEED — L.HS
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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
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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.
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– 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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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– 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.
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– 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. 
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— 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.
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— 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. 
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— 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.”
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— 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.
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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?
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— 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.
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— 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.
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— 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. 
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( © 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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foxtrot91 · 23 days
Text
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
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yestrday · 7 months
Text
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— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four
⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno
introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.
[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]
warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder
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— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم
[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 
⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.
⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.
⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.
⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 
⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.
⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.
“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”
“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”
[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]
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— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | ک��وه
[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 
⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!
⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.
⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.
⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.
⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.
⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.
“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.
[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]
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— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري
[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]
⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.
⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.
⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.
⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.
⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.
⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.
“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.
[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]
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— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 
[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]
⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.
⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 
⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???
⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?
⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.
“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.
[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]
1K notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 8 months
Text
Insatiable You*
Summary: The second part to Infinite You*
The one where Harry wants to know more about these smutty books you read. And maybe have a bit of fun, too.
Word Count: 5.8k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, Sir Kink
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“Begin.”
“Harry—”
“Begin,” he repeats. Stern. Final. “I’m not gonna ask you again, Kitten. This is what we agreed on, yeah? Said you would. So go.”
Your hands shake as you hold the book against your chest. You nod quickly, eager to please him, and you feel relieved when he smiles. 
You open the novel and flip to the bookmarked page. You can feel him watching you from his place between your legs and you attempt to cover your face with the pages before he’s quickly—and easily—pushing the book back down.
He gives you a certain look that makes you swallow, and you nod again.
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“S’okay,” he says. He’s trying not to smile. “But I wanna see you. You know that.”
You swallow for a second time and flick your attention back to the page. “So…just…anywhere?”
He hums. “Anywhere.”
You straighten up and clear your throat. “Damien was quiet as he entered Elizabeth’s bedroom. He could see her laid out in wait. Her familiar silhouette illuminated in the gentle light of the moon. He’d know her anywhere.”
You glance at Harry. He’s smirking. Intrigued. And you feel your cheeks warm as you look back to the story. Even if it’s not inherently smutty yet, you know it’s coming.
“He walked closer, careful not to disturb her peace as he made his way into her space. Pulling the soft blanket away from her hips to reveal the silk nightgown underneath.” You take a deep breath. You feel Harry squeeze your ankle. “He…he could see her glistening cunt beneath the sheer fabric. She’d been waiting for him. Working herself up in anticipation for his return. So it would be easier for him to take her once he arrived.”
As you read, you feel Harry’s fingers travel up the length of your leg and toward the large shirt resting around your hips. He pulls it back to reveal your glistening pussy. Equally as worked up as the one in the story.
You hesitate, embarrassed and enamored, before he nods once to reassure you. He’s far too amused to let you stop now. After all, this was your deal. You would read, he would reenact.
Your insides twist as you continue. “She stirred the moment his cold fingertips made contact with her warm skin. Still, he was gentle. He stroked and he pulled and he situated her where he wanted her. She was good. Quiet. Allowing herself to be moved without so much as a whimper.”
In turn, Harry’s large hands tighten around your hips. Tugging you away from the headboard and closer to his face. You gasp and clutch the book as though it’ll save you, but nothing can save you now.
“Go,” he murmurs and it’s anxious. He knows what’s coming and he knows he can’t begin until Damien does.
You continue. “Her body greeted him the way it always did. It was warm to the touch and seemed to call to him like a siren. Luring him closer until he had no choice but to take a taste.”
Harry scoots closer. Ready.
“His tongue flattened against her and he savored her need until he was short of breath. Licking and nipping at her until she awoke and cried out his name—”
However, you lose the rest the moment Harry’s tongue drags up your cunt and settles against your clit. And you decide that this is much better than reading alone because this is infinitely more vivid than the image in your head. Better than Damien, better than your own hand, better than a toy.
And Harry is beautiful. With his sharp, strong jaw that somehow looks sharper with the way he mouths at you. With his curls that are falling against his forehead and with the muscles that flex whenever he tightens his hold on your legs.
You drop the book onto your stomach and whimper, “Harry—”
He stops. Looks up. 
“Sir,” you correct quickly. “Sir, please—”
“Keep reading,” he nearly grunts. He juts his chin toward the novel. “Go.”
Your fingers are trembling as you lift the book back up. He expects too much of you when his tongue is lapping at your body the way it is. “He did not waver. She was sensitive from whatever ministrations she had practiced before he arrived, but he carried on. He pulled…he pulled her clit between his teeth and gave her something to cry about.”
Harry follows suit and your eyes roll back. He’s perfect, considering he’s only done this once before. But he knows how to treat you, how to touch you, how to taste you. Better than anyone ever has. He’s insatiable and determined. 
“He swallowed her down like a man dying of thirst,” you read through strained, shallow breaths. “She was his vixen. His wet, perfect little dream. Already pulling him closer by her warmth—shit—”
He smacks your thigh. Wrong. You keep reading.
“She pulled his hair and brought him closer. She lived within his lungs. He didn’t want the air she hadn’t touched. He wanted every drop that was wasted on the sheets below. The drops that belonged to him. Because her taste belonged to him. Always.”
Harry’s fingers curl around the backs of your thighs before he lifts them up. Creating more room and space for him to work. And he does. He takes and he groans and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit. More intimate than you were expecting and you gasp before the book drops.
“No,” he seethes against your pussy. He licks harder, sucks faster. “Keep going.”
“Harry—”
“Go.”
You can hardly see the words through the haze in your eye. They’re melting off the page, blurring together. Still, you try. You obey. “Damien teased her with his finger. He knew she could take him, but he needed to hear her beg.”
In turn, the tip of Harry’s finger begins to smooth through the wet folds beneath his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself clench at the very thought of him sliding inside. The anticipation almost dreadful. 
But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes find yours. “Beg me.”
Your breath catches. “Harry—”
He slaps your clit. Hard. “Beg me,” he repeats. “Fucking beg me, baby. Beg me to touch you. Beg me to stretch you. Beg me to fuck this cute little hole until you’re coming all down my hand.”
You clutch the paperback novel so hard, you feel it dent. “Harry—”
“Sir,” he corrects sharply. There’s something virile in his eye. A step past insatiable. Depraved. Like a wild animal with his prey. 
And you aren’t afraid. You aren’t embarrassed or ashamed. Because you understand this hunger. It's the same hunger you felt after days of not being with him. Of knowing he was with Rebecca while you were alone with your pillow. Knowing he fell asleep in her arms instead of yours. 
It's not just some itch you need scratched. It's him. His technique, his aurora, his presence. Mind, body, soul. Him. Nobody else will ever do it for you the way he can. Not even Damien.
“Beg me,” he repeats from below, ravenous attention locked on you. “Beg me, Kitten…and I’ll give it to you.”
You hold the book in one hand and his curls in the other. “Please,” you exhale. It’s airy and faint, but filled with a kind of desperation you know he understands. “Please, Sir. Please touch me. Please…it hurts.”
He hums and swipes his tongue over your clit. Teasingly. Temptingly. He thinks. “Does it?”
You nod quickly. “Anytime I’m not with you, it hurts. Please…nobody else can fix it.”
There’s a soft smile on his glistening lips. One you almost don’t catch through the tears in your lashes. “Nobody, hm?”
You shake your head.
“Have you been trying to find somebody else, Kitten?” He nips at you again. “Have you been going around, trying to give away what’s mine?”
Your eyes widen and your skin warms. You hate how much you love the possessive undertone. Even if he doesn’t mean it. “Never.”
He looks back up. “Do you promise?”
You swallow. You do promise, even though the truth is…you aren’t his. And you don’t imagine you ever will be. Still, you whisper, “I promise.” 
And you mean it. More than anything.
Satisfied, the tip of his finger begins to push you open. Stretching the warm, quivering walls that are anxious to draw him in, effortlessly easing the ache in your stomach.
You let out a relieved sigh that makes him smirk and you adore his smugness. More than you should.
“Keep reading,” he repeats yet again while thrusting his finger in and out at a deviously slow pace.
The book shakes as it’s brought back up. “She…she pulled his hair and whispered his name. And he’d never heard something so beautiful. Her mouth was good for many things, but moaning his name was perhaps Damien’s favorite.”
Harry kisses everywhere he can. Your cunt, your thighs, your hip. Pulling at the skin and sucking it until it’s bright red and swollen before soothing it gently with his tongue.
“She was trembling beneath him,” you read. “She was sensitive and ready to give him her second orgasm. And he was ready to take it—”
“And are you ready, baby?” Harry says to you now. His grin is mischievous as he awaits your response. Because he knows you are. Knows that you were a good girl, that you did your homework and obeyed his instruction. That you touched yourself before he arrived, exactly like Elizabeth had. 
You let out an unsteady breath and nod once. “Yes.”
“Good. Keep going."
You go back to your novel. “When she came, she was loud. Her naked body gleamed beneath her nightgown, covered in those dewy beads of sweat that made his mouth water. He wanted to run his tongue up and down every inch of her. To taste her, fully. To have her inside of him the way he was desperate to be inside her.”
Harry suddenly crawls up your body and begins to drag his tongue along your shaky stomach. A trail of saliva follows in the wake of his mouth and you can’t help but whimper as you watch him move toward your chest. 
“Read,” he murmurs against your left tit, leaving you no choice but to oblige. 
“When the light found her eyes, he saw what she really wanted,” you continue. “She pulled on him again and pleaded, ‘Damien, please. I can’t wait.’ So, he took himself from her swollen cunt and pressed his mouth to hers. He gave her a taste of herself and she swallowed it all, gladly—”
And before you can even ready yourself, Harry is taking your lips with his and sucking. Biting. Having. Feeding that hunger until you melt beneath him. Giving you the same taste Damien gave Elizabeth.
His tongue feels good against yours and the sensation is unfathomable. But not because of you...because of him. 
He knows you can’t read very well like this, but he doesn’t mind. He draws back and holds your jaw in his palm until you open your mouth in acceptance. And then…he spits. Right down your throat, as though every drop belongs to you.
And you swallow it all. Gladly.
His kisses eventually move back down before he instructs you to finish the scene. And you struggle your way through it, despite how anxious you are to reach the end. “Her pussy welcomed him in and it felt like coming home. He held her throat in his hand and whispered, ‘Tell me, my love. Tell me what you did while I was away. Tell me exactly how you touched yourself as you waited.’”
You feel Harry nudge his nose underneath your chin before he says, “Go on, baby. Tell me.”
You close your eyes and allow the memory to find you. “I thought of you,” you tell him softly. Quietly. You’re embarrassed again and you don’t know why. “Thought of how you knew what I was doing while I did it.”
You feel him smile against your throat.
“Thought about what you told me to do,” you continue. “How…how you told me to take good care of your pussy until you got here.”
He hums and it seems to vibrate through the fingers still pumping inside your cunt. “And you did, didn’t you?”
You nod wordlessly.
“Tell me how.”
Another mesmerized inhale. “I was here,” you whisper. The noise he makes this time is greedier. “I was here and I…I remembered how you looked last time. I thought of you, and I…I tried to do what you would do.”
He grins a bit wider and it makes your chest swell. “Is that right, Kitten?”
“Mhm.” You clutch the book to keep from writhing. “And I moaned your name when I came. Knew I couldn’t come for anybody else. Didn’t want to.”
He nuzzles his face in your shoulder and groans. “God, you’re gonna fucking kill me, baby. You know that? My ego’s already too big.”
“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly. “But it should be. You’re so good, Harry. Couldn’t wait to see you. Think I came just picturing you walking through my door.”
He leans back now and your heart drops. Perhaps that was a bit too honest. Too intimate. Especially considering that he’s still not yours to have.
He studies you a moment and you wait. Timidly. Preparing yourself for the disappointment that might follow his reply.
Then, he dips down, and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You’re too good to me,” he exhales. It sounds heavy. Scared. Sweet. “I don’t deserve you, Kitten. I hope you know that.”
You drop the book and take hold of the curls against the back of his neck. You squeeze them tight in your fist as you shake your head. You hate the resolve in his voice. “That’s not true. I’m just…here. I’m just me. You’re the one going out of your way to help me.”
Another smile but it’s softer. Sadder. “I think you’re helping me more than I’m helping you.”
You lift up and kiss him. “We’re helping each other,” you decide. “For as long as we can.”
When he kisses you back, you feel limitless. “Good.” He smacks his other hand against the outside of your leg. “Now, finish the chapter. We’re just getting to the good bit.”
You nearly whine but you do obey. Flipping through the pages until you find where you last left off. “Elizabeth looked at him, unabashedly. ‘What would you have liked me to do?’ she asked. Her voice was a silky purr. ‘How would you have liked me to touch myself without you? Would you have liked me to be soft and tender? Or would you have liked me to be just as hard and relentless as you?’”
Harry listens carefully, kissing a trail along down your chest while his fingers begin to work you closer. He knows you’re only moments away. Somehow, he always knows.
“‘Would you have preferred that I soak our sheets? Would you have liked to see the aftermath of my lust for you?’ She dragged her nails down his back. ‘Or do you like to know that I cannot touch myself the way you touch me? That my body does not respond to my hand the way it does yours?’”
Suddenly, he adds a third finger and your mouth instantly drops open. It starts to unravel before you can stop it and when he thrusts to the knuckle, you see those stars again. The same stars that brought him to you.
“Harry,” you gasp. You clutch his hair and his tongue dives forward. “Shit, Harry, wait—”
You come but he doesn’t stop. Damien might have, but Harry is most certainly not Damien. He flicks and sucks and pumps until you begin to cry. Until your legs are shaking on either side of his head and you’ve nearly yanked the curls from his skull.
Still, he pushes you toward a second—or rather, a third. And it’s far too quick for your liking.
“Har…shit, Harry, please—” You squirm and you fight against the almost painful pleasure radiating between your legs. “Hurts…hurts, Harry, please—”
“Don’t care,” you vaguely hear him murmur before he’s nipping at your clit again. “Again.”
Your cheeks are soaked and your fingers move from his curls to the bed beneath. You clutch the sheets and arch from the mattress, but he shoves you back down.
“Again,” he says. He slaps your pussy and you mewl. “You’ve done it before. Know you can do it again. Be good for me, come on. Be fucking good.”
And it’s almost sinister but it works. You come for a third time and your body feels wrecked. Ruined. Spent. You lose yourself in the sensation and by the time you find yourself again, he’s pulling his cock out and lining himself up.
“Read,” he demands next. He nods at the book. He’s determined to see this through. “Go. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Told me you used to fuck yourself to these books, so I wanna fuck you to them, too. Wanna show you how much better the real thing is. So fucking read it, baby.”
You mindlessly reach for the novel beside you and drag it back open. You know he’s right and you plan to rush through the rest of the chapter so you can throw the book away and never open it again.
“When he pushes in, his breath becomes hers,” you whisper. “Her cunt accepts his cock and molds to it. And he knows, undoubtedly, that her pussy was made for him. That she was sewn together in the heavens and left on his lap for such a purpose. Because no one would ever be able to please her the way Damien could. No other man could even try. She was made for him. To be loved by him. To be fucked by him. To live and die for him. They were one.”
Harry waits for you to finish the thought before he finally pushes forward, the tip of his large head disappearing between your folds. 
He braces himself against your hips and your lungs nearly give out. And he watches. He watches every fucking second of the way his cock stretches you open. Curses when he sees the way you accept him. Grits his teeth and fists your skin until he’s completely bottomed out.
And then…he kisses you.
Long and slow and it almost feels grateful. Like he’s thanking you for letting him inside and you sigh against his mouth.
Then, the book is suddenly snatched from your hand and chucked across the room before he kisses you harder. He growls, “Enough. You don’t come for him anymore. You fucking come for me. Is that understood?”
You whine his name but it’s not enough.
“Is that fucking understood?” he repeats louder. “You are not to pick up that goddamn book as long as you’re mine, do you hear me? You will not touch yourself to another man’s words or soak these fucking sheets for anybody else but me.”
And even if Harry isn’t a possessive man by nature, you thrive off the instruction. The threat—the demand. You imagine he doesn’t truly mean it, nor would he be that cross with you if you were to do it again.
But it fits the scene and you want to be perfect for him. “I understand,” you whimper. You bite your lip but he bites it harder. “Though, technically…it was written by a woman.”
You like to think he’d laugh if it were any other time. Today, however, he merely yanks himself out of your pussy and flips you around.
You’re on your stomach and spread before you can catch your breath. And you feel him push back in without a moment’s hesitation while his hand comes down in a firm smack to your ass.
You cry out his name and nuzzle your cheek against the bed. You miss being able to see him, but you happen to adore this side of him, too.
“Did I fucking ask?” he hisses before spanking you again. You feel your skin grow hot where his hand lands and somehow, it brings you even closer to release. “Huh? I don’t fucking care who wrote it. It is no longer yours to read. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” you say again. “I do, Sir. I promise.”
He kneads the tender flesh in his palm before mumbling, “Good girl. Now, are you gonna take my cock, Kitten? You gonna let me show you how a real man does it?”
Thankfully, your fervent nod is answer enough and with that, he begins a harsh, unforgiving pace that turns your insides to jello.
The bed shakes and your body shakes and this is fucking. The kind you’ve only ever seen in porn and you are so incredibly present in this moment with him. You drink in every detail, the way he holds your body, the way he fucks into your pussy, the way it sounds when he slips. 
His hips feel good against your ass and his soft grunts are euphoric. A few rendezvous aren’t enough, you realize. You thought you were addicted before but now…
You don’t think it’s fair that he doesn’t have to share you, but you have to share him. And you can’t hide the pout that forms on your lips at the very thought of him leaving you—leaving your warmth—to go find it with someone else.
And you know he’s not like that. You know he’s not actively with anybody else but you…and occasionally Rebecca. Still, the chance is there. The offer is his for the taking, should he decide to take it.
When you go quiet, he weaves his fingers through your hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s still gruff the way he speaks but laced with tender concern. The kind you’re used to from him.
You replace the pout with a small smile. “Nothing, Sir. I promise.”
“Would you like to take a break? Or change colors?”
You shake your head. “No. I promise.”
He slows his thrusts. “Are you thinking again?” he asks gently. “Did I lose you to those ugly thoughts?”
You could almost cry from the way he notices. The way he cares. Still, you force a brave face. “No, sorry. Just feels really good.”
He’s unconvinced. “Kitten—”
“Please don’t stop, Sir,” you whimper. You use the quiver in your voice to persuade him. To keep him in this moment with you instead of trying to yank you out. “Please, I’m…I’m so close. Just wanna come with you.”
You hear him sigh and the firm grip on your hip loosens. “All right,” he concedes, yet…he pulls out.
You nearly wither.
However, before you can, he’s rolling you over onto your back. “I wanna try something else with you this time,” he says. “Wanna see if you’d ride me.”
You feel your eyes grow larger while your head nods all on its accord.
And he grins when he sees how mesmerized you are, grabbing your hand to help you up as you both get situated near the headboard. An easier place to start.
He pulls you over his thighs before he’s slipping his hands beneath your large shirt to pull it over your head. And once he has full access to your chest, he takes advantage. Kissing and licking your tits while his palm flattens against your spine to keep you on his tongue.  
Then, you sit.
You start slow, and he uses his other hand to guide your hips at a pace he prefers. A pace he knows will be easier on you. After all, you’ve never taken him like this, and he’d like you to enjoy every fucking inch of the way down.
You gasp and cling to his shoulders as you go. This stretch is just as tantalizing, yet strangely more pleasurable. He feels deeper than he ever has and you glance down at where your bodies meet as though you’ll be able to see just where he is.
He smiles and takes your hand. “Right here,” he murmurs, as though anticipating your wonder. He presses your palm flat against your stomach before nudging himself up into you and—
The gasp melts into a moan, and he thrusts up once more but keeps your hand taut to your tummy. To the subtle bulge you can feel moving beneath.
“Sh…shit,” you manage, nails scratching at your skin. “I’m…fuck, Harry, I—”
“I know,” he says gently. He’s watching you again. Curious to your reaction and seemingly enthralled by your response. Happy. Content. “I know, baby. S’good, yeah?”
You surge forward and kiss him. Taking your hand away only so you can drag it down his chest and claw at his heart as though desperate to reach inside and take hold. To keep it. Forever.
You can feel it thumping against his ribcage. Going about as fast as you imagine yours is and there’s something so incredibly wonderful about knowing he’s equally as possessed as you are.
He seems to realize he’s the first man to do something so intimate with you and he likes this idea. Likes that he will always be your first memory, forever ingrained in your past. He holds you harder and kisses you deeper and begins to move you faster over his cock.
You shift, and grind, and ride him until you’re both a mess of moans and incoherent praises. He helps lift you up and guide you back down, setting a strangely addictive pace of bouncing on his cock until you’re nearing a fourth. But you won’t succumb until he does.
Your body is spent, every limb tired and aching for relief. It almost hurts, this pleasure, but it’s oddly sweet. Everything always is with him.
“Doing so good,” you hear him say, and you peel your eyes open to watch the way he watches you. His face is magnetic, every inch of him just as erotic as the sex itself. Even the way he swallows and clenches his jaw in pure bliss. “So fucking good, Kitten, you gonna give me another?”
You mewl pitifully and attempt to nod but it’s useless. The pressure is building and the ache is distracting and you’re close but somehow not nearly close enough.
Yet your tears and meek reaction only entertain him further. He grins wickedly as he rolls you faster, taking your nipple in his mouth before looking up. “What’s the matter, baby, hm? S’it hurt?”
You nod again while your hands cement themselves to his shoulders for balance.
However, he merely hums while his fingers suddenly lift toward his lips and disappear beside his tongue. And he sucks. Loudly. Lewdly. Until they’re soaked and dripping.
And then…he drops them to your clit.
The sound you make is miserable and pathetic. It does hurt but in the best way and you bury your face in his neck as though to hide from the pleasure.
You feel him nuzzle his cheek against your head. “Shh,”  he coos, and rubs his other hand up and down your spine soothingly. “You’re okay. You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? Gonna give me another—”
“Harry,” you cry, gripping onto his curls as though your life depends on it.
“You’re okay,” he repeats firmly. “You’re fine. I know you can take me, so take me. Just like you took your little fingers before I got here. You come for me the way you came for him. Okay?”
It’s mean and cruel and so incredibly sadistic but with one little pinch…he tips you over.
It’s quick but powerful and you’re drop kicked back into your body just in time to feel him twitch before he’s slamming you down and hissing, “Can I?”
You nod and he fills you. Completely and utterly, until your insides feel even fuller and your mind has gone numb. 
His head drops back against the headboard, lashes fluttering shut with relief while you watch. You watch all of it. The way he dribbles out of your pussy and down onto his thighs. The way his cock sits snugly inside of you. The way his skin glistens from the sweat and exertion.
But you can’t help the whine that slips out when you see those delicious pearlescent drops go to waste and you squirm when you realize how much you’re really losing.
You’ve never been one to care about keeping it inside. In fact, you’ve never really cared about it at all. But now…it feels like you’re losing him. You’re losing this experience by letting it drip down and disappear, and you nearly start to cry.
He takes hold of your cheek and gently sweeps his thumb across the soaked, warm skin of your face. “Baby,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”
You swallow thickly and attempt to relax. You don't imagine he'd understand. “Nothing, sorry.”
His head tilts but he’s still smiling. “Then why are you clenching me so hard? What’s wrong? Are you in pain, does it hurt?”
“No. No,” you assure him quickly. “No, I just…I don’t know. Feels like…a waste, I guess.”
He’s confused until you look down and the moment he realizes, he laughs again. “Oh, you sweet fucking girl—” He tugs you in for another kiss and now your body is numb, too. “God, I really don’t fucking deserve you.”
You whimper against his tongue and he sighs.
“I’ll give you more, don’t worry,” he says before kissing down your throat. “Next time. I promise. But right now, I wanna clean you up and make sure you’re all right.”
You’d likely protest if you had the strength, but instead, you allow him to care for you. He sets you down onto the bed as gently as he can before he’s rushing around your apartment collecting the things he needs.
He starts with a warm washcloth along your inner thighs to collect the sticky residue and add a bit of relief to your swollen cunt. And even though it’s sensitive and you try to squirm away, he soothingly talks you through it. Keeping you calm. Steady. Present.
Then, once he’s washed himself up as well, he asks if it would be all right to hold you. And it’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given.
So you stay in his arms for hours, your head on his chest, his lips in your hair. You talk about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of his heart as he recalls past moments that made him happy. Like this one.
Then, your favorite part. He asks what you’d like to do next time. 
“I don’t know,” you admit sheepishly. “I…I’m not sure what all I like.”
He thinks. “Well, we could do some research. Try a few things. You said you like things rougher, yeah? We could add some new dynamics. Degradation, harder spanking, punishments. Things like that.”
Your stomach flips. “You’re into punishment?”
He laughs and the sound is beautiful. “Yeah. Why, does that surprise you?”
“Honestly…yes and no.”
“We don’t have to go too deep if you don’t want,” he says. “We can keep it light, but the option is always there.”
You nod. “And…you like being rougher? You like…degradation and all that?”
“Yeah. Because I know my partner trusts me to take care of them even if I’m being harsh. And there’s something powerful in that, I guess. That their pain and their pleasure belongs to me.”
You feel yourself clench at the very thought before you’re scooting closer. “Well…that sounds good to me. I like being taken care of by you. Even if you’re mean.”
He laughs. “Was I mean, Kitten?”
“No. Just oddly possessive over that book.”
He hums before he looks toward the discarded novel on the other side of the room. “Yeah, well…fuck that book. I mean it.”
Now, it’s your turn to laugh. “Harry.”
“What? I do mean it.” He kisses your forehead. “You deserve better than some half-assed attempt at sex on a page. You deserve to be fucked and looked after. And Damien isn’t gonna do that for you.”
“No, but…I have other books.”
He snorts. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. I just picked an easy one since I didn’t want you to get too jealous.”
“Is that right?”
“Yup. Although that clearly didn’t work very well.”
You feel him land a firm smack to your ass that makes you squeal before you settle again.
“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll pull you over my lap right now.”
You grin. “Maybe you should.”
And when he chuckles, you feel whole. “Next time. Deal?”
“Deal.”
The room falls silent again as you exist in his hold. Against his heart. In his life in a way you never imagined.
And then…you ruin it.
“Was she surprised you were coming over again?” you ask quietly, breath already catching in anticipation of his response. “Or was she…mad?”
Yet true to form, he’s calm. “No,” he says easily. “She was happy, honestly. Just surprised you didn’t mention it to her yourself.”
You grimace. Right. “I…yeah. Sorry, I…I think I got scared.”
You feel his cheek roll across your head before he’s scratching his nails up and down your back. “Why, Kitten?” he asks softly. “She’s not scary, I promise.”
“I know. Fuck, I know. I know, I…I don’t know.” You groan. “I think I…I just think I’m still not used to this. To this idea of…sharing? And I keep worrying that she’s gonna change her mind and…and it’ll be over. Just like that.”
He considers this for a beat before he’s kissing your crown again. “She’s not like that. I promise. She never would have agreed if she thought she’d change her mind.”
“…I know.”
“And even if she did, she doesn’t get to make that decision for us,” he tells you. “If we want to continue, that’s our choice. And nobody else’s.”
This makes you smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Another kiss. “But you know she doesn’t want this to upset you. She cares about you a lot, Kitten. She values your friendship more than anything and she’d hate to know she’s made you so anxious.”
And just like that, you feel dejected again. “I know…”
“I don’t want to come between you two,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “And if I am—”
“No,” you interject. “No, you’re not. But I don’t want to come between you two, either.”
“You’re not,” he echoes smugly. “And I think that’s why this works. We’re good at sharing. At least with each other. And I like it this way.”
The contentment in his voice makes your heart swell and you reach up to kiss him firmly in response.
But the truth is, you don’t think you are very good at sharing. At least not him.
Although, you suppose you’ll have to learn. 
Because next time…you don’t plan to let him go.
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Writing smut inside smut is no joke 😭
Next Part:
~ Insufferable You* (Pt. 3)
Previous Part:
~ Infinite You* (Pt. 1)
~ Full Infinite You Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
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obsessedwithceleste · 8 months
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Lessons in Love
(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader
Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.
word count: 3.3k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.
It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.
Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.
Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)
But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.
“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.
Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.
“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”
You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.
“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.
“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.
Enzo’s face falls at this.
“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.
“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.
He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.
“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.
“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.
“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.
“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.
Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.
“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.
You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.
The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.
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You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.
“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.
This putrid, skanky little-
“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“
A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.
“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.
The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.
“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.
Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.
“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.
You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.
“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.
Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.
“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”
Theo takes another step forward.
“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.
“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.
“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?
Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.
“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.
“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.
He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.
“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.
Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.
“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?
“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.
You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.
“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.
You feel yourself cringe.
“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”
“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.
“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.
Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.
“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.
Theo scowls at the nickname.
“Campfire.”
“Old parchment.” You say in unison.
Pansy smirks.
“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”
Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.
“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.
Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.
“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,
“This is entirely your fault.”
Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.
“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.
“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”
Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.
“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.
“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.
“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”
Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.
“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.
You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.
“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.
Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.
“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.
The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.
“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.
The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.
“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.
“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.
Theo only raises a brow at you.
“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.
Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.
“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.
“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.
He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.
“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.
“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”
“And Daphne’s shampoo.”
You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.
“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.
You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.
“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.
“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.
Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.
“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.
“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.
“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.
Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.
“Better?”
You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.
“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.
“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”
You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.
“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.
“One kiss.”
He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.
An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”
You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.
“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.
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lycanlupins · 2 months
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NSFW Alphabet - Remy Lebeau/Gambit
Warnings: NSFW talk obviously! I love this kinky cajun and hope you do too
But seriously, I hope y’all like this, it was something to write while I recovered mentally and physically from being sick for so long
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He’s kind and caring, he’ll crack jokes while cleaning his partner up, maybe even run them a hot bath and give them a quick once over with a warm wash cloth
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
On him its his cock, he’s loud and proud about it. He’s quite skilled with what he does and it doesn’t hurt that he’s well equipped
On his partner he loves thighs and ass. He’s 100% a thigh and ass man, anyone with a fat behind is right up his alley. He likes to hold and grab and grip and he can’t do that if there’s nothing there
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He likes to cum mark his partner, making sure that it’s on their tummy or face, taking a long hard look (and maybe a few pictures) just to remember the occasion
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He likes to fuck his partner in their sleep (consensually) and thinks its a wee bit hot when they wake up full of his cum dripping all over the sheets
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Very experienced, Remy is so good at what he does and he knows it. Especially when he’s going down on his partner and they moan about what a good job he’s doing, he’s smirk and say something they don’t understand before going back to doing his duties
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Nasty man likes it kinky, he’ll start off with a nice 69 and end in Lotus or Mating Press depending on his mood. He rarely does missionary unless its romantic or his partner requests it
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He can be goofy for sure but most often than not he’s serious in a sexy way, not a quiet and boring way. He’ll occasionally make sex a little humorous by whispering funny things while he’s trying to catch his breath or between changing positions
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
This man is natural to a tee, not to say its a bad thing but he doesn’t trim it at all. He naturally has softer hair so its not uncomfortable and its not too hairy by any means either
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He loves intimacy but he can turn that off quick if its a one time thing. He’s an adaptable lover through and through and he’ll give his partner all or none of the romance if they wish
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He gets off in risky places ie. common rooms, the kitchen, anywhere he might get caught by his partner or even someone else
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Vouyerism
Threesomes (or more)
Anal
Role play (CNC, kidnapper, etc. he’s in when it comes to fun consensual kinks)
Breath play
Food Play
Breeding Kink
JOI
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere, anytime. He has no qualms about where and when he wants to have sex, he’s ready to go at a moments notice
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Teasing of any kind, him or his partner teasing the other is a sure fire way to end up folded under him, getting pumped full of cum
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn’t like physically hurting in the way of impact play to the face area, spanking is fine but he rarely if ever slaps his partner. Its kind of uncomfortable for him, it feels too much like abuse to him
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He prefers to give but its an equal 50/50 in his relationships, he’s good at what he does and he likes to teach his partners just how to please him
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
He changes the pace often, sometimes quick sometimes slow, usually somewhere between rough and not but he’ll make sure his partner knows he’s fucking them
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Quickies are frequently needed in his line of work so he’s not against them whatsoever, especially if its in a pretty public place
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Risk would be his middle name if he didn’t already have one, he’s up for a good pregnancy scare or getting caught by someone unsuspecting
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
2-3 rounds before he needs to recover, and those rounds could be 10 or so minutes excluding foreplay (which is his favorite part when he can get it in)
Quickies are always a problem when he’s as insatiable as he is but he still gives his partner a quick round or two
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
God he loves toys, he doesn’t find them competition but gladly welcomes their use on him or his partner, especially anal beads/anal plugs and vibrators
He also has a small remote controlled vibrator to match his partner that both of them have control to so they can mess with each other when they feel horny
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Big tease, especially with the remote controlled vibrator mentioned previously. He loves to turn it on while he’s watching his partner lecture about something or when they’re watching movies just to fuck with them
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Loud and proud, especially when he starts speaking in his native tongue. He’ll start praising and cursing loud enough for someone to hear if they walked by the room or lived in the room next to his/his partners
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He uses his staff to fuck his partner and then uses it in fights just so he has a little extra luck, at least in his mind
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
9 inches, curves slightly up and to the left, BIG balls. Mean vein on the left side of his shaft and a dark pink tip
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Insatiable but he’s not annoying about it, he’ll wait if his partner isn’t in the mood but once they are its all bets off
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He makes sure his partner is all set and taken care of before he lets himself relax enough to sleep afterwards. He can’t go to bed knowing he didn’t take care of his beloved first
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ghosttotheparty · 1 year
Text
saw this prompt @newgrangespirals @steddieas-shegoes; needed to write it but also i kind of derailed it bc my brain has a mind of its own and its focus is steddie so i apologize also on ao3
He’s met with silence. 
Eddie supposes Murray Bauman must only ever be met with silence after speaking; he doesn’t seem the type of man to hold an easy, casual conversation. Especially now. 
Even Argyle is silent, his fork stalled on its way to his mouth as he looks from Murray to Jonathan, whose face is red, then Nancy, who’s equally flushed. 
Eddie looks at the table, his vision blurring. His hands are shaking.
“Murray,” Joyce says in a lethally calm voice. Eddie had forgotten she was here. “Go.”
“What do you mean, go?” Murray says, his voice quieter like he’s starting to sense what he’s just done. “We’re in—“
“Murray,” Joyce snaps. Eddie flinches. His fingers are knotting with the hem of the tablecloth, his food uneaten on his plate. “Go. I will deal with you later.”
There’s a moment of quiet before Murray’s chair scrapes across the uneven tile floor, and his footsteps retreat. And then there’s silence again. Tense, tense silence. 
“Steve,” Nancy says quietly, and Eddie looks up at her, glaring even though she hasn’t done anything to him. Jonathan looks at her too, anxious. Joyce sips her water, her hand shaking, and Hopper has his head down, his face hidden in his hands. 
“I’m good,” Steve says shortly, and Eddie looks at him, his stomach flipping. Steve is smiling a little, but it’s an awful smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He pushes his plate away with a breath like he feels just as sick as Eddie does, and he nods, but he doesn’t look like he’s really here. “I’m…”
“Steve, it— it wasn’t—“
“You told him my name,” Steve snaps, looking at her across the table, his eyes wide. Nancy looks like she’s going to start crying, and Eddie finds that he really doesn’t care if she does. “And you still…”
He laughs. Dryly, humourlessly. Eddie feels like he might throw up. 
Steve closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he feels a migraine coming on, and he laughs again. 
“Steve—“ Jonathan tries to say, but Steve just holds his hands up, shaking his head. 
“I’m just…”
He pushes his plate farther away, moving his chair back with a loud scrape, and then he’s leaving too, going upstairs. Eddie watches him go, watches Robin get up to follow him before she deflates, seeing the way Steve gestures for her to stay, to leave him alone. Robin’s hands are shaking, and Eddie can practically feel the anger radiating from her. 
The silence is back after a door slams upstairs. 
Joyce sets her glass down loudly, and she puts her hands flat on the table next to her plate, taking a deep, shaky breath. Hopper says her name softly, but she holds a hand up, shushing him. 
“I have never…” she starts slowly, her voice shaking with anger. “I have never been more disappointed in my life.”
“Mom—”
“Jonathan,” Joyce snaps, fixing a look on him, and he falls quiet. “…I did not raise you to be the other man. And Nancy, I…” She puts her hands on the table again, taking a measured breath before she looks at Nancy. “I am not your mother, but I think I am well within my rights to say I’m disappointed in you, too.”
“Ms Byers—”
“I don’t want to hear a word out of either of you,” Joyce says calmly before she touches her face, rubbing her chin anxiously as she stares at her plate in front of her. Nobody is eating anymore. Eddie still feels sick, but he also feels like he’s blended into the wall, like everybody’s forgotten that he’s here at all.  He looks at the table, at the fraying tablecloth that’s clutched in his fingers. 
“Unbelievable,” Joyce mutters to herself. “I can’t…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Nancy takes a shuddering breath. She might be crying. 
“Eddie, dude.”
Eddie looks up, his eyes meeting Argyle’s. He’s looking over at Eddie anxiously, his head tilted a little bit, and as they look at each other, the others look at Eddie too. And suddenly he isn’t in the wall, but he’s the centrepiece of the table, the showstopper, the freak. 
It’s like they all remember what Murray said at the same time. 
“Eddie,” Joyce says, her voice softer than it was a moment ago. Kinder. Eddie looks at her. “Honey, if… if it is true. None of us have any problem with it.”
If it is true.
They all know it is. Eddie can tell just by looking at them that they all know. 
He feels so… small. Like he’s fifteen again. Like he’s new in high school, like he’s walking down the hallway and feeling all the stares, the eyes and eyes and eyes looking, watching, analysing, judging. Even though Joyce’s gaze is kind, and Hopper gives him a slight nod when their eyes meet. 
Eddie’s chest feels so tight he can’t breathe, each breath shallow and weak, and he’s kind of lightheaded, and he feels fucking nauseous. 
“I, uhm.” He clears his throat, his stomach churning, and he untangled his fingers from the tablecloth, taking a sharp breath. “Excuse me,” he says quickly, breathlessly, moving his chair back so fast it tips on the uneven tiles. He feels like he might pass out as he goes upstairs, hearing Argyle say something quietly behind him.
Upstairs feels even quiet than downstairs. Like every room could have an echo. 
Eddie finds a room that’s empty except for some cardboard boxes, and he shuts the door behind himself before he goes to the opposite side of the room, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to the wall. It’s cold. 
He’s breathing too fast, and his head feels light, like if his eyes were open his vision would be dark. He wraps his arms around himself tightly, squeezing as he exhales until he wheezes, until there’s nothing in his lungs, and then he inhales as slowly as he can. In, in, in, until he can’t anymore. He holds it. Exhales. Does it all over again. 
Until he can breathe without suffocating. 
He turns to rest his back on the wall, and he slides down to the floor, closing his eyes and pulling his knees to his chest, exhaling shakily. 
He’s never felt like this before. 
He feels so… lonely. 
He feels almost cold, even though sunlight is streaming through the window, beams of golden light glowing across the floor. 
He cries. Even though he tries not to. He can’t help it, and the tears are absorbed by the sleeves of his hoodie. 
Steve’s hoodie. Eddie hates that he’s wearing it, even though Steve brought it just for him. Even though Steve specifically made sure he brought a black one, even though it smells like Steve. Eddie hates that Murray noticed that it’s Steve’s. 
He stays there for a while. Until the sunlight dims. 
He only lifts his head when the door breaks open, and Steve’s voice says, “Eddie?”
Eddie stands quickly, wiping his face and sniffling as Steve finds him and shuts the door behind himself. 
“Hey,” Eddie says, his voice wavering. “You okay?”
Steve nods. He doesn’t look like he’s been crying, but his eyes are shining blankly. And Eddie aches. 
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really have to. Steve blinks at him, hesitating. 
“I kind of already knew,” he says like it’s a question. “I just…” He exhales, swallowing, and Eddie knows he’s talking about Nancy and Jonathan. It. “I, like, convinced myself I didn’t care? That it— it didn’t matter?” 
Eddie listens, leaning against the wall, watching Steve push his hair back anxiously. 
“I mean— the world was ending, who gives a shit if— if I get cheated on? It’s so fucking stupid.” He doesn’t seem to realize he’s even talking to Eddie. He’s just talking. Saying what he didn’t say downstairs. “But I’m so… Jesus. Hearing it out loud, like— like Murray was fucking proud, like it was funny, I’m just… I don’t know.”
Steve deflates, leaning against the door, looking at Eddie, and his eyes are shining. 
“Embarrassed?”
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“...I trusted them,” Steve says quietly, weakly. 
“You trusted them,” Eddie repeats. “What they did is their fault, Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong. Trusting them wasn’t wrong,” he adds adamantly, watching the way Steve’s eyes shine. “You thought they were— they were trustworthy. You didn’t know they’d do something like that.” 
Steve sniffs, looking at the floor. His cheeks are flushed, and Eddie hates himself for thinking he looks beautiful. 
“You have every right to feel hurt,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him. He swallows. “And to feel angry.”
“What about you?” Steve asks quietly after a moment. Eddie blinks. 
“What about me?” 
Steve looks at him. His eyes flick back and forth between Eddie’s for a moment, intent and searching before he speaks. His voice is so soft. Kind. 
“He just outed you in front of all of us,” he says quietly. “You’re not angry?” 
Eddie blinks again. 
Steve looks at him so kindly. Eddie likes being looked at like this. Like Steve is listening to him even though he isn’t speaking. And Eddie realizes that Steve just knows, that he doesn’t question it. That he knows how Eddie is feeling, but is waiting for him to say it himself.
Eddie’s lip quivers, and he feels like a child again. 
“I…” He hesitates, taking a breath as a wave of nausea washes over him again. Steve just looks at him. “I’ve never come out to anyone,” he says weakly. He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “I’ve never gotten the chance to. My— My dad found some zines in my room when I was fourteen, and I didn’t… I didn’t have to say anything.” His voice is shaking. He’s never told anyone about this, not even Jeff. “The only time I ever heard that man say anything about God was when he was trying to beat the queer out of me,” he says, laughing the way Steve laughed downstairs. Humorless. Almost hysterical. “And he— he called Wayne to tell him everything because he…” 
Eddie trails off, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. 
“I told myself no one would ever know when Wayne took me in, but I swear it was like overnight, the whole town knew,” he chokes. “Because of— of my hair, or my clothes, or— or because people associate queerness with evil and— and Satanism, I don’t fucking know, but everyone knew and I…” 
He covers his face, his face hot with embarrassment as a sob escapes him, and it feels so stupid to be so upset right now, but Steve just waits patiently, listening and looking at him. 
“People keep taking it,” Eddie chokes, his face wet with tears now, looking at Steve desperately. “It’s mine, and people keep taking it from me.” 
Steve nods. 
And then he’s coming close and wrapping his arms around Eddie, and Eddie is crying into his shoulder, his hands clutching at Steve’s shirt the way they clutched at the tablecloth earlier, his fingers gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles ache. He’s shaking. But Steve’s hands feel steady as they run over his back, and Eddie wants to die. 
Because Murray told them to have sex. And Steve is still here, holding Eddie while he cries, even though he knows Eddie is gay, even though Murray told the whole table that Eddie likes Steve, that it’s so painfully obvious that he likes Steve. That he’s pining, yearning. 
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face into Steve’s neck, his shoulders shaking as he sobs, and Steve moves a hand to hold the back of his head, his fingers pressing into Eddie’s curls to cradle his skull. And it’s almost fucking tender, and Eddie doesn’t know how he got here. Or where he’s going to go. 
Steve is murmuring to him. Quiet I got yous and It’s okays, his voice breathy and soft in Eddie’s ear. Eddie melts against him, and Steve holds him tightly, swaying with him, rubbing his back and scratching his fingertips over his scalp carefully the way he does when Eddie has nightmares. 
Eddie whines into his neck, choking on his breath, and Steve’s arm tightens around his waist like he’s preparing to catch Eddie if he falls. 
“I know,” he whispers softly. “It’s not fair.” 
Eddie shakes his head. 
It’s not fair. 
It’s fucking bullshit. 
The whole world thinks it knows him better than he knows himself. Even if they’re fucking right. It’s not fair. He’s never gotten to speak for himself, never gotten to really introduce himself. 
He aches when he finally stops crying, his fingers relaxing but still holding Steve’s shirt loosely, and his hands are sore. Steve runs his hand through Eddie’s hair. He waits, holding Eddie close even though he isn’t crying anymore, touching him gently, kindly, as Eddie catches his breath. 
“You know what I’m angriest at?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, his voice weak and breaking from his crying. Steve touches his head again. 
“What?” Steve whispers. 
“...He’s fucking right.”
Steve is quiet. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn again. 
And then Steve is shifting, holding the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie blinks his eyes open to look at him. Steve looks into his eyes intently, and it’s almost too much, but Eddie can’t look away, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt. 
“About everything?” he whispers softly. Tentatively. 
Eddie looks back and forth between his eyes, and he nods. 
He feels sick again. He can’t breathe. 
Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s face, and he’s so fucking warm. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s cheek so lightly Eddie can barely feel it. And Steve’s face relaxes, like he’s deflating, as he touches Eddie’s face, as his other hand presses into the small of his back. 
“I really fucking hate him,” Steve breathes. His eyes flicker across Eddie’s face, and they linger on Eddie’s mouth. Eddie whispers his name. Steve hesitates, stammering silently for a moment before, “Can you say it?”
Eddie steps back a little, and their hands fall even though they’re still close enough for Eddie to see the green in his eyes. 
“...Say what?” he asks hesitantly. Steve looks at him, his eyes shining, and he looks so desperate suddenly. 
“Everything,” he says breathlessly. “I wanna hear it from you.”
Eddie’s eyes fill with tears, but Steve looks like he’s begging, and Eddie is weak. 
“I’m gay,” he says softly, whispering like he’s worried someone outside might hear. “And I…” He takes a breath. Steve’s eyes look back and forth between Eddie’s like he’s looking for it. “I have, like… a huge fucking crush on you.”
Steve’s eyes drop to Eddie’s mouth like he’s watching his lips form the words. Eddie is trembling. Steve suddenly feels like he’s across the room, like he’s far away even though they’re standing so close. 
“I might fucking be in love with you, Steve, I…” 
He chokes on his breath, and Steve is touching him again, reaching for his face and wiping away his tears carefully, stepping closer. Eddie’s hands find his waist, and he grips his shirt again. 
Steve says his name. 
It always sounds so nice in his mouth. 
“You don’t– You don’t have to,” Eddie says, trying to tear himself away, closing his eyes as Steve holds his face and wipes his tears. “I know, it’s…”
“Eddie,” Steve whispers, his hands tightening on Eddie’s cheeks, and he’s so close now, their noses almost brushing. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
 Eddie’s eyes widen. He leans back to see Steve clearly, and Steve looks so nervous that Eddie aches. 
“Really?” Eddie asks weakly. 
“I…” Steve pauses, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and licking his lips, hesitating. “I might be fucking in love with you too,” he whispers. 
Eddie closes his eyes, exhaling as Steve strokes his cheeks again. He gasps for breath when Steve’s forehead touches his, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt before he slides his hands over his waist gently. He can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric. 
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Steve asks again, his breath soft on Eddie’s face. 
“Yeah,” he chokes. 
Steve’s palms press to Eddie’s cheeks, and Eddie’s hands clutch at Steve’s waist desperately when Steve’s nose nudges his, when their lips brush. He feels like he’s dying. 
But Steve kisses him so softly, so sweetly. Holding his face tenderly in his hands and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away to look at him, to check, even though Eddie is holding him against himself, even though Eddie’s chin lifts like he’s subconsciously searching for his mouth again. 
Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and Steve is smiling at him. It’s such a soft smile, and Eddie forgets everything that’s happened today. Except Steve’s lips on his. 
“Please,” he breathes. Begs. Pleads. 
Steve kisses him again. One of his hands slides to hold the back of his head again, his fingers threading into Eddie’s curls, and his other shifts down to Eddie’s neck, his fingertips slipping under the hoodie as his thumb brushes over Eddie’s throat so lightly it tickles a little bit. Eddie’s hands press to Steve’s waist and slide to press into the small of his back, and he’s probably wrinkling the fabric of his shirt, but neither of them cares as they tilt their heads, as their lips part. 
They pull away to look at each other after a few moments, close enough that they’re sharing breaths as they both breathe hard, as Steve’s fingertips scratch over Eddie’s scalp lightly and Eddie’s eyelids flutter for a second. And then Steve is tilting his head and leaning down to kiss Eddie’s neck, his fingers twisting in his hair to hold him in place, and Eddie is dying, letting out a whimper as his eyes close and his hands reach for Steve’s arms. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of his upper arms, squeezing as Steve presses a slow kiss under his ear. His mouth is so warm. 
Steve kisses him when he lifts his head, and Eddie kisses him back desperately, reaching to wrap his arms around his neck, whining when Steve’s hands find his waist and pull. 
Then Steve pushes, reaching up to hold the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie stumbles back, his fingers tangling in Steve’s hair and tugging when his back hits the wall.  Steve’s hand blocks his head from the wall, and Eddie smiles against his mouth, gasping when Steve’s tongue slips across his lip. 
“Steve,” he gasps, lightheaded as Steve sucks on his lower lip, as one of his hands slides under the hoodie to touch his skin. His palms are a little rough with calluses, scratching the sensitive scar tissue on Eddie’s waist lightly, and Eddie groans. 
Steve pulls away with a gasp, looking at Eddie desperately, frantically, his other hand holding his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, and his lips are shining, and his hair is a mess, and Eddie wantshimwantshimwantshim—
“Do you wanna leave?” Steve asks, his voice rough, and Eddie looks at his mouth, still panting. “I… I don’t wanna see any of them, I just…” He’s breathless too. His hand runs over Eddie’s scarring again almost mindlessly as his thumb brushes his cheek. “Do you wanna go?”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. 
Steve smiles softly, his eyes shining at him, and he leans in to kiss him one more time, caressing his cheek. (Caressing. Jesus.) Eddie hums, savouring it before they part with a quiet, slick noise that seems to echo in the empty room. 
Eddie feels lightheaded again, but he’s smiling like he’s sleepy as Steve shifts his hands to press his chin up, smiling at how pliant Eddie is. Eddie laughs under his breath, his hands holding Steve’s shoulders. 
“I’m so fucking… relieved right now,” Eddie whispers, his head falling to rest on the wall behind him. Steve kisses him again before he pulls him close, hugging him tightly. 
Eddie buries his face in Steve’s neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly, wanting to jump up and wrap his legs around his waist, to cling to him like a koala, wanting to climb inside him, to be as close as fucking possible. Steve exhales roughly, pushing a hand into Eddie’s hair. 
Steve holds his hand as they leave, ignoring the others that are gathered in the living room, even though they’re clearly waiting for the two of them. Eddie lets the door slam shut behind them. Steve drives. Eddie reaches over and puts a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently as he looks out the windows and watches the world go by. 
He’s kind of anxious about this, whatever it is. Anxious that he isn’t what Steve thinks he is, what Steve hopes he is, anxious that he isn’t enough for him. 
But he’ll try his best, he knows he will. He’ll bring Steve fucking flowers, he’ll write him fucking poems if it makes him smile. He’ll ravish him the way he deserves, touch him the way he likes, tell him every chance he gets how fucking beautiful he is. He’ll kiss him good morning and learn how to make his coffee just right. He’ll memorize the pattern of his moles and name constellations on his skin. 
He’ll remind him every single day, as long as Steve lets him have him, what he deserves. 
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csuitebitches · 2 months
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Crafting a Personality and Capitalising on it
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How do we craft a personality that is socially charming yet true to our roots?
How do we mingle and meet new people without feeling awkward or shy about it?
How do we not lose ourselves while following all these blah blah etiquette rules?
Welcome to part 2 of my Chic Girl Mentality series. 🤍
Today, we will focus on crafting a personality that is still you but better.
First, let’s talk about people in social settings. You’ll meet people who are confident, secure and socially charming. You’ll meet quiet people who may be equally socially charming or just very shy and conscious. You’ll meet the braggers and the doe-eyed followers. There’s a lot of different types of people in the world and knowing how to gracefully navigate most of them is nothing but a learned art.
People, regardless of their bank balance, are insecure of what they do not have yet. This can be looks, money, experience, lifestyle, and so on. How do we capitalise on this without exploiting or manipulating anyone?
By knowing how to tell a story.
That doesn’t mean that you need to become a public speaker or politician, it just means that you need to be able to craft intriguing stories about yourself, using your own life and experiences, to “sell” an interesting version of you socially. We’re all interesting people but only a few of us know how to say that we’re interesting without saying that we’re interesting.
Experience 
People, even those with money, will always be more attracted to those who have experiences, especially, unique ones. Whether it’s travelling to exotic locations or trying new culinary destinations, or wearing unknown designers, knowing obscure artists or writers, or being at the top of your industry… experience is the most important thing to cultivate first.  You already have experience. If you went to school, high school, college, joined clubs, your first job, any travelling, etc - these are all experiences.
Make a list of 5 of the most interesting experiences you think you have.
Hobbies and interests 
Have a couple of lowkey hobbies that you feel enthusiastic about. Whether it’s doing some charity work on Sundays, or cooking, or pottery, whatever it is, keeping a hobby is healthy. 
There should be something to you that an acquaintance can remark about: “CSB? Oh yes, I’ve heard that she’s a great dancer.” 
Vulnerabilities 
Certain vulnerabilities must never, ever be shared. It will 100% be used either as gossip or blackmail. 
However, coming across as someone with no weaknesses is rather untrustworthy- it makes the other person feel that you’re clearly hiding something. 
Make a list of vulnerabilities that are small and you don’t mind sharing. These should be vulnerabilities that will never ruin your reputation in any form but can be used as a form of bonding with empathy. 
And make a list of hard core vulnerabilities you know you should never share with anyone. Keep it memorised rather than written down. 
Experience + Hobbies or Interests + Safe Vulnerabilities = Personality
Storytelling 
Now that you have some experience, hobbies, interests, and your “safe” vulnerabilities sorted even if it’s limited - what will make it stand out is the art of storytelling. Some storytellers can make even the most mundane experiences sound magical - it’s all in the words and delivery. There’s a reason why every Holy Book is a story, packed with lessons and morals - it’s impactful, easy to remember and recall and relatable. Craft your experiences into stories. Use those 5 experiences that you noted down and start writing them down as stories.
Take up an online storytelling class or watch videos. Start honing this skill by writing and reading good literature. 
Refine your 5 experiences further. Run it through chatGPT, say them out loud and most importantly- start testing them out on people. See what makes them chuckle and what doesn’t; what makes them empathise and what doesn’t.
A famous comedian whose name I can’t remember does the same thing. He creates his set. He goes to a small pub and tries it out on the audience there. And the first set is always the first. The audience may not laugh at his jokes, they might boo him or sometimes, he might get a laugh out of them. But every time, he goes home and refines his set further. Once his set is fully refined, and he accomplishes his goal of the audience peeling with laughter at every joke, that’s when he goes on national TV / on tour etc etc.
The most important thing is to craft your stories of your experiences in a way that it delivers the value you want the person to remember about you.
For instance, if I want to be seen as creative and innovative, I won’t tell the person in front of me, “oh, I’m soo innovative and creative!”
Rather I will weave that into a story. “When I was 24, at my first job in the advertising space, we were losing clients left and right. And one weekend, I was on a trek on the mountains - it’s one of my hobbies - this idea hit me, and I suddenly knew exactly how to get our clients back. My team was hesitant about my idea, and we got a lot of pushback, but we went ahead. The night before my launch I was so nervous, I got hardly sleep. And you won’t believe it, but the idea worked! The response was fantastic.”
Let the other person come to the conclusion of you being innovative and creative. Human beings love to deduce things and jump to conclusions and provided you set the context the right way, you should be able to project the version of you that is the best part of you.
Vocabulary 
A sign of a good education- even if you don’t have it - is a diverse vocabulary. I’ve always had a little more respect and awe for those who are articulate, can speak smoothly and speak confidently. I’ve noticed that my American friends, for instance, tend to talk fast with lots of filler words, and sentences tend to end with a pitch up instead of down, which to me indicates hesitation or indecision. Speaking slower, ending your sentences with pitch going down to indicate a full stop rather than up makes you seem like a refined speaker even if your subject is utterly stupid. 
Body language and mannerisms, social interaction 
Watch old classic Hollywood movies to really understand this - especially romantic ones. Choose ones with a femme fatale or siren-like female lead, and watch how she enraptures the male lead or the audience around her. 
A combination of fantastic storytelling and body language will take you places beyond your dreams. Some of the biggest frauds, scammers, politicians, criminals are also some of the best storytellers. Humans are attracted to stories, we pick up body language intuitively, we can sense when someone is nervous or isn’t. Unfortunately the world isn’t a kind place and will not necessarily help you out of your shyness- in fact, that might just make you the best target for exploitation. 
Storytelling + Vocabulary + Body Language = Your Best Personality
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