#rhythm: rise of the world

[tsunagite]

Miscellaneous, but oops all Arcaea (technically)

[nanaminokanojo]

MASTERLIST

Sukuna is pissed.

The reason? You moved away from him in your sleep when he wanted to hold you close.

In your own subtle ways, you've always complained about how unaffectionate he is. You didn't explicitly say it, but he did notice how your mood would shift, your pretty little smiles barely masking your disappointment when he would do or say anything remotely cold or mean. And now that he was giving you what you wanted, you just roll away from him, depriving him of your warmth and the affection he expects you to reward him.

How you even managed to escape four of his arms to find your own corner of the bed was a big puzzle to him. You've always slept peacefully pressed to his side on most nights, and you didn't really move much once he had two of his arms wrapped around your frail form. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose after he had evidently upset you during supper by dismissing you when you asked about his day. There was nothing to tell, and though he understands that your concerns came from a good place, he still refused to tell you of the horrors of the world he found himself so deeply embroiled in.

Sukuna, however, brushed off the idea. You wouldn't dare. Or would you? He was just protecting you. Why would you hold that against him?

He chose not to entertain the thought, thinking it was just you moving in your sleep. And so, he reached for you, gently placing his arms over and underneath you to pull you closer. But it hadn't even been a minute of him holding you when you started letting out these seemingly irritated noises and shortly after, you were turning your back on him.

"What –" He stopped himself when you breathed in deeply, half expecting to hear sobs if you were truly upset with him, but then, your breathing rhythm returned to normal. You were still fast asleep.

Sukuna shrugged, already feeling his temper rising at the thought that you could sleep just fine without him. The thought of it annoyed him, and that was an understatement. He decided to move closer to you then, but as soon as he did, pressing your back on his bare chest, you started squirming, a dissatisfied groan leaving your lips.

At that, he rose slightly on his elbow, taking offense. "Woman, what is your problem?" he demanded, making you lie down flat on your back, startling you. "Is something ailing you?" This time, he spoke gently, watching as you slowly blinked up at his frowning face like you haven't got a clue what he's talking about. And then you closed your eyes before favoring your left side, going back to sleep.

"You –"

"What?" you whined without facing him, annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.

Sukuna scoffed. You've really done it this time. Nobody dared speak to him that way. "What now? You don't want me anymore? I thought you wanted –"

In one swift movement, he found himself being tackled onto the bed as you turned around and threw yourself against him, immediately finding your spot in the crook of his neck. His two left arms instinctively wrapped around you, keeping you cradled in them as you snuggled closer, planting a kiss under his collarbone as if to appease him before you were falling back asleep.

"You could have just stayed like this –"

"Shh."

Did you just shush him? And as if to punctuate it, you raised your hand, your fingers blindly yet tenderly brushing his lips and staying there.

"Wife, you are aware I have two mouths, aren't you?" he spoke against your fingers, fighting a smile.

You moved your head back to smirk at him as you threw a leg over his abdomen right where his other mouth was, your thigh preventing it from saying anything.

"There. Problem solved."

[iiiiiiis-things]

idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

[zellkabellk]

I'm falling back into Monster Hunter World / Iceborn... fuck this game is so fun.

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ imagine playing with logans hair. gn!reader

he’d kill you, actually kill you if you told anyone how he practically purred the moment your nails met his scalp. he’s sprawled out on the bed between your legs, head heavy on your tummy as his eyes flutter shut.

you want to tease him, but refrain. you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him this content, his dark, delicate eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he fights the inevitable pull of sleep that threatens to take him. there’s something so peaceful in that moment, watching the man you love melting so easily under your touch after so long of him skittering away like a wounded animal.

“you falling asleep?” you whisper, unable to contain yourself. he’d insisted prior he wasn’t tired.

a low, firm grumble against your skin, “no.”

but logan is a terrible liar, his body grows heavier as you tenderly trace your fingers through his hair, relishing in the way his smooth locks dance through your digits. and though he’d never say, he craves this kind of contact frequently. he’s all too accustomed to violence, clenched fists, raising hackles and spilling blood. he longs for tender touches, love so warm it makes him ache, stolen kisses. . . and you.

he just wants you.

maybe that’s why he finds it so easy to lower those fortified walls in your presence, because you allow him to be soft. you allow him to be everything he is never allowed to be. the world has taken so very much from him, but it’s also given him you.

so how can he be mad at it for long?

you push back the tufts of hair lining his forehead to reveal more of his face, a smile curling as you see his lips parted, breathing softly in the calming rhythm of sleep. he nestles closer instinctively, thick arms around your thighs as he’s pulled deeper and deeper into slumber. no nightmares will find him here.

not while your company serves to soothe his ever-racing mind, bringing it to a halt with every kiss, every simple touch. you curl your fingers around a strand of his hair and smile, wondering how he let you get this close. but you won't question it, you already know how lucky you are.

when he wakes, logan insists he did not fall asleep and was merely resting his eyes. all said while wiping drool from his scruffy chin. you swear you can see a flush on his cheeks as he huffs and rises from the bed.

you’d say his one weakness is that he falls asleep like a kitty cat the moment your nails touch his scalp, but logan would say his one weakness is simply you.

day 22 'hair' prompt for logantober <3

[verstappenverse]

Revved Up

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.

Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂

1.4k words / Masterlist

Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.

You.

More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.

He kept scrolling eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.

Your ex.

The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.

'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.

Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.

He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.

You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.

“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.

“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tended to only happen when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.

You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”

Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”

Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”

His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram, I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed, but his expression didn't change,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”

You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.

Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”

“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”

There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”

“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.

You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”

He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”

“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”

You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”

He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”

“Still what?”

“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”

You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”

“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”

Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.

You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.

“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”

You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t you forget it.”

The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.

“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”

“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”

“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”

You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[mssalo]

access

You and your husband, Joel, share a deep understanding - your body is his, to fuck and taste whenever he desires, without question or hesitation.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, free use dynamics, oral (f receiving), somnophilia (woken with head), getting fucked awake, rough possessive sex, Intense dirty talk, breeding kink, light choking and nipple play, cum play

5k, smut, one shot

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the first rays of early morning sunlight slipping through the cracks in the curtains. Everything was still, the kind of quiet that comes just before the world begins to stir.

The air was warm, thick with a sense of calm, and the only sound breaking that silence was the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you lay beside him, deeply asleep. You looked peaceful, the blankets tangled loosely around your legs, your hair spilling across the pillow.

You were completely unaware of the storm building beside you.

Joel lay next to you, half-propped on one elbow, his gaze fixed on your body. The soft rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your hips barely hidden beneath the sheets, the way your lips parted ever so slightly as you exhaled—all of it stirred a deep, familiar hunger in him. His eyes moved over you slowly, tracing every line, every curve, like he was memorizing the sight of you, though he had done it countless times before.

His cock was already hard, pressing insistently against the fabric of his boxers, the ache intensifying with every second he spent watching you. The urge to reach out and touch you, to feel your warmth beneath his fingers, was overwhelming. He wanted you, needed you, in that primal, all-consuming way that had woken him up in the first place.

You were beautiful—peaceful, serene, utterly unaware of the effect you had on him. But the heat building in his belly, the tightness in his groin, was becoming too much to ignore. His desire for you had grown with every second, and the free use pact you shared meant that he didn’t need to hold back. You were his to take whenever the need struck, and right now, that need was impossible to resist.

His hand hovered just above the sheets for a moment, hesitating only long enough to savor the anticipation. Then, slowly, he let his fingers brush lightly over the curve of your hip, the warmth of your skin seeping through the thin fabric of your sleepwear. His touch was featherlight at first, testing, waiting to see if you stirred. But you remained blissfully asleep, your body soft and pliant under his hand.

He grinned to himself, the heat inside him intensifying. His fingers traced a slow path down the length of your thigh, parting your legs ever so slightly, making space for him to take what was already his.

You shifted slightly, a soft murmur escaping your lips as his hand crept higher, brushing against your soft pussy. He groaned quietly, his breath hitching at the contact, his fingers exploring further. He could already feel the wetness gathering there, your body responding to him even in your sleep, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through him.

The room was still quiet, bathed in that soft morning glow, but the tension was palpable. Joel’s body was tense with desire, every nerve alive with the need to take you, to feel you, to bury himself deep inside you. And with the way you lay there, so peaceful, so completely his, there was no reason to wait any longer. You were his, and this morning, he was going to claim you all over again.

Without making a sound, he moved down the bed, the covers slipping away as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes lingered on the way your thighs pressed together, how peaceful you looked in your half-awake state, blissfully unaware of what he had planned for you. He could already feel his cock twitch in anticipation.

Slowly, gently, he eased your legs apart, his hands warm against your skin as he spread you open, revealing the soft folds of your pussy glistening faintly in the dim light.

He didn’t rush, savoring the moment, his lips hovering just above your heat, close enough to feel the warmth of you but not touching yet. His breath ghosted over your skin, and you stirred lightly, but you didn’t wake, your body still pliant under his hands.

He grinned to himself, eyes dark with lust as he lowered his mouth to your cunt, his tongue darting out to taste the very tip of you.

The first contact was light, barely more than a teasing flick against your folds, but the taste of you already had him groaning softly against your skin.

His tongue flattened, dragging up the length of your pussy with slow, deliberate strokes, the heat and wetness of you making him dizzy with need.

He didn’t stop, his tongue swirling around your clit, flicking and sucking gently, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your sleeping body.

You stirred again, a soft moan slipping from your lips as your hips shifted slightly against his mouth, but you still didn’t wake. He could feel you responding, feel the way your body was starting to tremble under his touch, and it only drove him wilder.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your soaked folds as he spoke. His voice was low, thick with lust, and the sound of it sent vibrations through you. “So fuckin’ sweet… always so perfect for me.”

He buried his face deeper between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider.

His tongue slipped between your folds, licking deep into your heat, fucking you slowly with each stroke. You whimpered in your sleep, your body responding to the pleasure even if your mind was still clouded with sleep.

He groaned as he tasted you, his tongue delving into your slick, warm cunt, savoring every drop of arousal he coaxed from you.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he growled, his voice muffled as he sucked your clit into his mouth, teasing it with slow, wet kisses. “Even when you’re sleepin’, baby, your body knows what it wants.”

He licked you harder, his tongue swirling over your clit before dipping back down to flick against your entrance. He alternated between sucking on your sensitive bud and thrusting his tongue deep inside you, his lips and tongue working you over with practiced ease.

He could feel the tension building in your body, your thighs trembling around his head as he devoured you, his mouth relentless in its assault on your pussy.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. His lips closed around your clit again, sucking harder now, his tongue flicking rapidly against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked against him, a breathless moan escaping your lips as you finally started to wake up, the pleasure pulling you from the haze of sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you felt was his mouth on you, his tongue licking and sucking with a desperation that made your toes curl.

Your body jerked in surprise, but he held you down, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.

“Mornin‘, baby,” he murmured against your folds, his voice dripping with lust. “You’re gonna cum for me. I’m not stoppin’ until you do.”

You gasped, your fingers tangling in the sheets as he licked you faster, his mouth working you over with a precision that had you seeing stars.

His teeth grazed your clit lightly, just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body, before he soothed the sting with his tongue, swirling it around your swollen bud until you were trembling beneath him.

He groaned, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through you as he buried his tongue inside you again, fucking you with it in slow, deep strokes. His nose brushed against your clit, the friction making you cry out, and he growled against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs as he held you open for him.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, his voice thick and rough as he licked you harder, faster. “I can feel how close you are. You’re gonna cum all over my tongue, aren’t you? Gonna soak my fuckin’ face.”

You whimpered in response, your body writhing beneath him as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. His mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking against your clit in quick, sharp strokes that had you gasping for breath, your hands clutching at the sheets as your orgasm surged through you.

He moaned against you, his mouth still working your clit as you came, the taste of your release flooding his senses.

He didn’t stop, didn’t let up for a second as he licked you through your orgasm, his tongue swirling over your sensitive bud until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your folds as he spoke. “Cum for me, baby. So fuckin’ good for me. I could eat this pussy all day.”

You were still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm when he finally pulled away, his lips and chin slick with your arousal as he moved back up your body. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt the hard press of his cock against your entrance.

“Time to wake up, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His cock slid inside you slowly, stretching you open as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming. His hands gripped your hips with possessive strength, holding you in place as he began to thrust, each deep, deliberate movement sending a shock of pleasure through your body.

His gaze darkened with lust, the intensity in his eyes making you shiver.

“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and rough, his hips grinding into yours. “That’s my cock inside my perfect wife. You’re not just sweet —you’re mine to fuck, my own personal slut. Made for this.”

The way he said it, the ownership in his voice, made your body tighten around him, clenching his cock as if to keep him inside.

He leaned down, his chest pressing against yours, his breath hot against your skin.

His mouth found your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before sucking it deep into his mouth. He bit down just hard enough to make you gasp, the sharp jolt of pleasure-pain only heightening the sensation of his cock pounding into you.

His other hand cupped your other breast, fingers pinching and rolling your nipple between them, the roughness driving you wild.

“Such perfect tits,” he groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing the swollen bud again before sucking harder. “These belong to me too—just like this pussy. I love the way your body reacts to me, how you beg for more without even saying a word.”

He shifted his hips, slamming into you harder, the rhythm relentless now, his thrusts deep and rough.

The bed creaked beneath the force of it, your body jolting with every powerful movement, and all you could do was moan, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

“You love being mine, don’t you?” he rasped, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to the other, biting down just enough to make you shudder. “You love knowing that I own you. My sweet little wife on the outside, but behind closed doors, you’re nothing but my filthy fuck toy.”

His words were so filthy, so degrading, but they only made your arousal spike higher. The dirty talk sent a rush of heat through you, your pussy squeezing around him as if begging for more.

“That’s right,” he growled, his pace quickening as he fucked you harder, his cock slamming into you with a raw, unfiltered intensity.

“I’m gonna fuck you until all you can think about is how good it feels to be filled by me. This is what you were made for—taking me, being mine, every inch of you.”

He shifted his weight slightly, freeing one hand from your breast to grab your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. “I love seeing you like this,” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough and ragged.

“Begging for my cock, letting me use you however I want. You love being filled by me, don’t you? You love being my perfect little girl.“

His hand tightened around your throat as his thrusts became erratic, harder, more desperate.

He was close, you could feel it in the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his breathing became heavier, more labored. “You’re gonna cum for me again,” he commanded, his thumb brushing over your nipple in time with his thrusts.

“You’re gonna milk my cock while I fill you up, baby. I’m gonna breed you, fill you with every last drop.”

His cock throbbed inside you as he pounded relentlessly, the wet sounds of his body slamming into yours filling the room. His hand tightened around your throat, while his other hand gripped your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple hard, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

He leaned down, biting at the soft skin of your neck before dragging his lips to your ear.

“You feel so good, hm?” he rasped, his voice dark and dripping with lust. “You love being owned like this. My perfect little girl, taking my cock like the slut you are for me.”

His thrusts grew deeper, harder, making you gasp with every movement, each one hitting the perfect spot inside you that made you tremble.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before he released it with a wet pop. He moved to the other breast, repeating the rough treatment, his eyes flicking up to watch your face as you moaned helplessly beneath him.

“You want me to fill you up, baby?” he growled, biting down gently on your nipple. “You want me to breed you, to fuck you full of my cum until it’s dripping out of you.”

The filthy words sent heat flooding through your body, your pussy clenching tighter around him, making him groan deep in his throat. His thrusts became more frantic, his hips slamming against yours as he fucked you harder, deeper.

“I’m gonna make you a mommy,” he snarled, his voice rough with lust. “You want that, sweet girl? You want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to be your fuckin‘ daddy?”

His words made your mind spin, and you whimpered beneath him, the idea of him filling you, making you his in the most primal way, sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you.

“Yeah, you do.” he growled, his cock pounding into you with brutal force.

“You want me to fuck you so deep, to breed you, make you a mommy with my cum. You’re gonna take it all, every last drop, and I’m gonna fuck you until I’ve filled you up. You want a daddy to fuck you, huh? You want me to give you my baby?”

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming as his dirty words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His hand tightened around your throat just a little more, and his pace quickened, his hips slamming into you with wild desperation.

“I’m gonna breed you, baby,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum, make you mine forever. Gonna be your daddy and fuck you full until you’re dripping with it. You’ll be swollen with my baby, and you’ll love every second of it, won’t you?”

The tension snapped inside you, your orgasm hitting you like a wave, your body convulsing around his cock as you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Your pussy clenched hard around him, milking him for every drop, and he groaned deep in his chest, his cock twitching as he finally let go, his release crashing over him.

“Fuck,” he growled, his voice strained with pleasure as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard, filling you with his cum. “Gonna make you mine, baby. Gonna fuckin’ make you a mommy. You’ll be carrying my baby, swollen with it.”

He stayed there for a moment, buried deep inside you, both of you panting as the aftershocks of pleasure washed over you. Slowly, he pulled out, his cum already starting to drip from your swollen pussy, and he watched with satisfaction, his hand sliding down to gently rub your lower belly.

“You’re gonna look so fucking perfect with my baby inside you,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whispering, “You’re mine. And I’m gonna fill you up again and again, until you can’t think of anything but being my good little wife… and the mother of my children.”

Joel stayed buried in the moment for a few more seconds, his hand gently stroking your belly as if imagining what it would be like to see you swollen with his child.

His touch softened, his expression turning from the raw lust that had consumed him moments before into something much more tender, loving. His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, his eyes full of warmth as he looked down at you.

“Think it’ll stick this time, baby?” he asked, his voice quiet, but filled with hope.

You smiled softly up at him, reaching up to stroke his face. “I hope so, baby,” you whispered, your voice teasing but full of affection. “You’re certainly doing your best to make sure of it.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, the sweetness of the gesture making your heart swell. “You enjoyed every second of it, huh?” His tone was playful now, the intensity from earlier fading into something much more comfortable, more intimate.

“Every second,” you replied, biting your lip as you added teasingly, “Daddy.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, but it was playful, his hand swatting your thigh gently. “You’re gonna make me start all over again, talkin’ like that.” He leaned down, nipping at your neck in a way that made you giggle. “Stop it, I need to get to work.”

You laughed softly, still catching your breath from everything, and wrapped your arms around his neck for a brief moment before letting go. “Can you grab eggs on your way home later, baby?” you asked, the domestic request slipping easily into the conversation, as if nothing about the morning had been out of the ordinary.

Joel grinned down at you, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said softly. “But first, let’s get some coffee in us. Come on.” He gently nudged your legs apart and got up, offering his hand to pull you with him.

You accepted his hand and climbed out of bed, feeling the warm, comforting domesticity settle between you both like a cozy blanket. As the two of you headed to the kitchen, Joel kept one arm around your waist, holding you close as he moved about, getting the coffee started.

“Can’t believe I’ve got to leave this behind and go to work,” he said, shaking his head as he looked you up and down with an affectionate smile. “All this bliss - my woman teasin’ me with her ‘daddy’ talk, and I gotta put on a construction hat.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you nudged him playfully. “You’ll be home before you know it. Maybe we can pick up where we left off.”

Joel gave you a sly grin, pulling you into his chest for a brief, but warm kiss. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.” His voice was teasing but full of affection as he kissed the top of your head. “I might just quit and come back early.”

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed. “We need those eggs.”

Joel chuckled, reaching for the mugs as the coffee finished brewing. “Alright, alright, eggs it is. But tonight—” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a playful growl, “we’re pickin’ up where we left off. No escapin’ that.”

You smiled up at him, your heart full as he handed you your cup of coffee. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

· · ───

After Joel left for work, the house grew quiet, filled only with the soft hum of daily life. You went through the motions—cleaning up the breakfast dishes, folding some laundry, and putting away the little things that needed tidying. As the day passed, you couldn’t help but think of Joel, out there working hard, pushing through the long hours, his body no doubt aching from the labor.

You knew that when he came home, he would need you. That’s how it was with him—he carried the weight of the day on his shoulders, and by the time he stepped through the door, he was ready to let it all out.

By late afternoon, you decided to unroll your yoga mat in the living room, letting the warm light of the setting sun fill the space as you moved through your poses. The deep stretches pulled tension from your muscles, and for a moment, you were completely lost in the rhythm of your breathing, your body relaxing into the poses.

You didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t notice Joel coming home early. You were in a deep bend, eyes closed, when you felt the familiar presence behind you.

Before you could straighten, his hands were on your hips—firm, possessive, the way they always were when he came home after a long day. He didn’t speak at first, just a low, throaty grunt as he tugged you back into him.

You could feel the heat of his body, the intensity rolling off him like a storm, and before you could even process what was happening, he yanked your leggings down in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel muttered, his voice rough and thick with that familiar drawl. “You have no idea what kind of day I’ve had.”

His hands slid roughly over your hips, gripping you tightly as he leaned down, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

You didn’t have time to say a word before he freed himself from his jeans, pushing them down just enough to press his hard cock against your entrance. The anticipation made your body tighten in response, and you could feel your own arousal building as he held you there, hovering just at the edge of control.

“All damn day,” he growled, his voice low and strained, “all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ home, bendin’ you over, and takin’ you like this.”

With that, he thrust into you, filling you completely in one rough, deep stroke. You gasped, your body arching as he stretched you wide, his cock slamming into you with an intensity that made you dizzy. Joel didn’t ease into it—he took you hard, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you back against him with each brutal thrust.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, his voice tight as he drove into you again and again. “This is what I need. All day, bustin’ my ass, and I come home to this tight little pussy waitin’ for me.”

The words were filthy, but there was a rawness to them, a desperate need that you could feel in every thrust of his hips.

He was letting everything out, the tension of the day pouring into you with every stroke of his cock. You could barely breathe, the pleasure and intensity of it all overwhelming as he used your body, his movements relentless, demanding.

“You’re always so fuckin’ perfect for me,” Joel growled, his hands sliding up your body, rough fingers grazing your skin as he yanked your tank top down, exposing your breasts.

His hands moved to your chest, grabbing your breasts roughly, his thumbs brushing over your nipples before pinching them hard. The mix of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, and you whimpered beneath him, completely at his mercy.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice low and dark as his hips slammed into yours, his cock filling you over and over.

“Always so good for me. I work my ass off all day, and this—this is what I need when I come home. My sweet girl, just lettin’ me take what’s mine.”

There was a tenderness hidden beneath the raw desire, the way he spoke to you like you were his safe haven, the one place where he could let go of everything. But his actions were anything but soft.

He gripped your hips tighter, pulling you back onto his cock with a force that made you moan, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher.

“You don’t know how much I need this,” Joel groaned, his pace quickening as his cock slammed into you harder, deeper. “You, here, ready for me every damn day. Letting me fuck you just like this. I don’t deserve you.”

You whimpered in response, the intensity of his words and his movements driving you closer to the edge. He was rough, unrelenting, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. The tension in your belly coiled tighter and tighter as his hands roamed your body, his grip possessive, his touch demanding.

“Goddamn,” he grunted, his voice rough as his pace became even more frantic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, baby. Gonna empty my fuckin’ balls inside you until you’re dripping with me.”

His words sent a shiver through you, and your body responded, tightening around his cock as the pleasure built to a peak.

You couldn’t hold back anymore—the tension snapped, and your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as you came hard around him. Your pussy clenched tight, and Joel groaned, his grip on you tightening as he felt your release.

“Fuck,” he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic, more desperate. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. You’re mine.”

With a final, deep thrust, Joel buried himself inside you, his cock throbbing as he came, spilling his hot cum deep inside you. The warmth of it spread through you, and you shuddered, still trembling from your own release as he held you there, his chest pressed against your back, both of you panting.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Joel stayed inside you, his breathing ragged, the rough edges of his desire finally softening.

But when he pulled out, his eyes darkened again, watching as his cum started to drip from your swollen pussy, a low, filthy groan escaping his throat.

“Don’t you dare let it go to waste,” he muttered, his hand suddenly firm on your lower back, pushing you down slightly so you were exposed to him fully. “Push it out for me, baby. Let me see it.”

You whimpered, your body still trembling from the intensity of everything, but you did as he said, pushing his thick cum out of you, feeling it leak from your entrance. Joel’s eyes were locked on the sight, his gaze filled with raw hunger.

“Good girl,” he growled, his hand sliding down to gather the dripping cum on his fingers. Without warning, he pressed two fingers back into you, forcing his release back inside, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as you gasped at the sudden sensation.

“You’re gonna keep it in there,” he commanded, his voice low and rough as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, spreading the warmth of his cum inside you again.

“I’m not done with you yet. Not until I make sure you’re filled.”

As you clenched around his fingers, still sensitive from everything, he pulled them out and raised them to your lips. His eyes locked with yours, dark and full of intent. “Open,” he ordered softly, pressing the cum-covered fingers to your mouth.

You obeyed, parting your lips and letting him slide his fingers inside, the taste of him filling your mouth as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “Suck ‘em clean, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice both tender and commanding, watching as you did exactly that, his gaze softening just enough to make your heart flutter despite the intensity.

“Good girl. You don’t know how good you are to me,” he said quietly, his voice now a mix of gratitude and desire as he watched you.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, the roughness from earlier replaced with a deep, tender affection.

You smiled softly, his fingers still in your mouth as your eyes met his. “I’m always here for you, daddy.”

He chuckled low in his throat, pulling you closer into his chest, his breath warm against your hair. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, baby.”

After a moment of stillness, Joel slowly helped you up, his hands gentle but firm, lingering on your skin with a touch that made your body tingle. His eyes softened as they met yours, and the intense hunger from earlier melted into something warmer, more intimate. He guided you toward the bathroom, that teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. “Let’s get you all cleaned up, darlin’. Can’t leave my girl like this.”

You smiled, leaning into him as you walked, feeling the heat of his body still close to yours. Once inside the bathroom, you couldn’t resist a playful grin as you remembered the errand you’d sent him on. “So… did you get the eggs I asked for?”

Joel chuckled, his deep voice vibrating against you. “Yeah, fresh from the farm, just like you wanted. Thought of you the whole damn time,” he added, his tone dropping suggestively. “All I could think about was how you were gonna thank me for ‘em.”

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar heat return between you as he stood close, his fingers brushing your hip. “Well, I can’t wait to try that new recipe. You’re gonna love it.”

Joel leaned in, his lips grazing your ear. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you’ve got cookin’. But let’s not pretend I’m not thinkin’ about that other way you thank me, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with that familiar, playful growl.

His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer as he added with a grin, “But first… let’s get you cleaned up. I need you fresh and ready for later.”

You laughed softly, your body warming under his touch, even as you let him guide you into the shower. The water was warm, cascading over your skin as Joel’s hands followed, his fingers gentle but still teasing, touching you with an ease that made your heart flutter.

His hands slid over your body, but every once in a while, he would pause—his touch lingering just long enough to make you tremble.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said, his voice softer now, filled with affection as he washed away the day from your skin. “Don’t know what I’d do without you here to come home to.”

You smiled, leaning your head back into his chest.

Joel let out a small hum of satisfaction, his lips brushing your shoulder as his hands continued their slow exploration of your body. He wasn’t rushing, savoring every second of the intimacy between you, even as you could feel the undercurrent of playfulness in his touch.

His hands slid down your stomach, stopping just short of teasing you further, and you let out a playful whine.

“Not yet, darlin’,” he whispered with a chuckle. “We’ve got dinner to make first.”

As you stepped out of the shower, Joel wrapped you in a soft towel, pulling you close for another lingering kiss. You could feel the warmth of his love in every gesture, even in the way he gently brushed the wet strands of hair away from your face.

“So, what’s this recipe that’s got you so excited?” he asked, his voice light and teasing as he led you toward the kitchen.

“A new quiche recipe,” you said, feeling your excitement return. “I’ve been wanting to try it for a while.”

Joel grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection and mischief. “Quiche, huh? You sure you ain’t just makin’ it so I’ve got something to eat after I’ve worked you up again?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “Maybe it’s a little of both. I’ve got to keep you satisfied one way or another.”

He stepped up behind you as you pulled out the ingredients, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. “You know I’m already more than satisfied,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. “But I won’t complain if you keep spoilin’ me.”

You leaned into him, your head resting back against his shoulder. “Well, you deserve it after a hard day’s work.”

“That I do,” Joel whispered, his hands roaming again, teasing but not pushing. “But I can’t wait for dessert.”

You laughed, swatting him playfully. “Patience, cowboy. Dinner first.”

Joel chuckled, his breath warm against your neck. “Yeah, yeah,” he teased, stepping back to let you work, though his eyes followed your every movement. “But later… you and me, baby. Quiche ain’t gonna be the only thing I’m devouring.”

You glanced over your shoulder with a smirk, the playful heat between you always simmering, always alive. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As you continued to prepare dinner, the warmth between you two lingered in the air. It wasn’t just in the way he looked at you with that teasing grin, but in the domestic ease you both shared—the simple joy of being together, of teasing and loving one another, no matter what the day had thrown your way.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

[bratzkoo]

diet pepsi | seungcheol

Author: bratzkoo | beta read by: @spnyin Pairing: F1 driver! seungcheol x model ! reader Genre: fluff, smut Rating: NC-17 Word count: 8.7k Warnings/note: inspired by addison rae's diet pepsi. who here is a slut for seungcheol? 🙌 CAUSE I AM. sexual content. car sex, public sex, kitchen sex, just... they're horny. minors please for the love of God, I have a lot of sfw fics... read those not this.

summary: seungcheol just wants every excuse to have sex with his girlfriend, let him be.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The screech of tires against asphalt filled the air as Seungcheol Choi crossed the finish line, clinching yet another pole position. The crowd's roar was deafening, but inside his helmet, Seungcheol heard only the pounding of his own heart and the steady rhythm of his breath. As he pulled into the pit lane, a sea of red-clad mechanics swarmed his car, their excitement palpable.

Climbing out of the cockpit, Seungcheol removed his helmet, revealing a shock of tousled dark hair and a face flushed with exertion and triumph. Cameras flashed from every direction, capturing the moment for millions of fans worldwide. Seungcheol's eyes, however, scanned the crowd for one face in particular.

There she was. Y/N stood at the edge of the paddock, her platinum blonde hair catching the sunlight, emerald eyes locked on him. To the world, she was just another beautiful face in the crowd, perhaps a fan or a pampered guest. But Seungcheol knew better. The slight quirk of her lips, the intensity of her gaze – these were for him alone.

As he made his way through the throng of reporters and well-wishers, Seungcheol maintained his media-trained smile, answering questions with practiced ease. "Yes, the car felt great out there. The team has done an amazing job." "No, I'm not thinking about the championship yet. We're taking it one race at a time." All the while, he was hyper-aware of Y/N's presence, like a magnetic pull on his senses.

Finally breaking free from the press, Seungcheol headed towards his private trailer. As he passed Y/N, their eyes met for a brief, electric moment. No words were exchanged, but the message was clear: Meet me later.

Inside the trailer, Seungcheol peeled off his racing suit, the cool air a relief against his skin. As he stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the sweat and tension of the race, his mind wandered to Y/N. A year together, and still, every moment felt as thrilling as the first.

He remembered their first meeting, at a charity gala nearly fourteen months ago. Y/N had been the face of the event, her billboard-sized image greeting guests as they arrived. In person, she had been even more stunning – all graceful curves and sharp wit. Seungcheol, usually so confident on the track, had fumbled his words like a teenager.

A smile played on his lips as he recalled how Y/N had teased him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope you drive better than you flirt," she had quipped, before slipping him her number on a cocktail napkin.

Their relationship had ignited quickly, burning hot and bright. But with their rising stars came increasing scrutiny, and they had made the difficult decision to keep their love under wraps. For a year now, they had been living a double life – stealing moments whenever they could, always looking over their shoulders.

Seungcheol stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. His phone buzzed with a message from Y/N: "Usual spot. One hour."

An hour later, Seungcheol guided his sleek black sports car up the winding road to their favorite overlook. The city sprawled below, a glittering carpet of lights in the gathering dusk. Y/N's car was already there, and as he pulled up beside it, she stepped out, taking his breath away.

Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the deep green dress that hugged her curves. As she walked towards him, Seungcheol was struck anew by her grace, the way she moved like liquid silk.

"Congratulations, hot shot," Y/N purred as she slid into the passenger seat of Seungcheol's car. "You were incredible out there today."

Seungcheol's hand found hers, their fingers intertwining over the gear shift. "Having you there makes me want to push even harder," he admitted, bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

Y/N's other hand came up to caress his cheek, her touch igniting sparks under his skin. "Seeing you race... it does things to me," she murmured, her voice low and husky.

Their lips met in a searing kiss, a year's worth of pent-up passion and stolen moments pouring out. Y/N's fingers threaded through Seungcheol's hair, still damp from his shower, as his hands roamed her back, pulling her closer.

With practiced ease, Y/N maneuvered herself onto Seungcheol's lap, the gear shift digging into her thigh. Neither of them cared. All that mattered was the heat between them, the taste of victory on Seungcheol's lips, the soft sighs escaping Y/N's throat.

Seungcheol's lips traveled down Y/N's neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "God, I've missed you," he breathed against her skin. "These past weeks, barely seeing each other..."

Y/N arched into him, her body responding to his every touch. "I know," she gasped as his hands slipped under her dress. "But we're here now."

They moved together with the familiarity of long-time lovers, yet each touch still sent electricity coursing through their bodies. The windows of the car slowly fogged up, creating a cocoon that shut out the world beyond.

Afterward, they sat entwined, Y/N's head resting on Seungcheol's chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to its normal rhythm. The city lights twinkled below them, a reminder of the world they'd have to return to soon.

"I have news," Y/N said softly, tracing patterns on Seungcheol's arm. "That luxury car brand I've been in talks with? They want to do a joint campaign. With an F1 driver."

Seungcheol tensed slightly beneath her. "Let me guess. They want me?"

Y/N nodded, sitting up to look into his eyes. "It could be huge for both of us. But..."

"But it would mean going public," Seungcheol finished for her. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's been a year, Y/N. Maybe it's time."

Y/N searched Seungcheol's face, her brow furrowed with concern. "Are you sure? Your sponsors, my agency... they've all been so insistent about projecting the right image."

Seungcheol cupped Y/N's face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. "The right image is us, together. I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you.”

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Seungcheol's lips. 

As they drove back to the city, hands intertwined over the gear shift, both Seungcheol and Y/N knew they were accelerating towards a new chapter in their lives. The race to balance their love, careers, and the impending spotlight was on, and neither of them was prepared for the twists and turns that lay ahead.

The next morning found Seungcheol in a strategy meeting with his team. As his race engineer droned on about tire degradation and fuel management, Seungcheol's mind wandered to Y/N. He wondered what she was doing, if she was thinking of him too.

His reverie was interrupted by his team principal, Jeonghan, clearing his throat pointedly. "Seungcheol? Did you hear what I said?"

Seungcheol blinked, forcing himself to focus. "Sorry, Jeonghan. Could you repeat that?"

Jeonghan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he continued, "I said, we've been approached by Luxe Motors for a potential sponsorship deal. They want to do a campaign featuring you and some model." He waved his hand dismissively. "Could be good exposure, but we need to make sure it doesn't interfere with your training schedule."

Seungcheol's heart raced. This was it – the campaign Y/N had mentioned. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Actually, Jeonghan, there's something I need to tell you all."

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Seungcheol. He could feel the weight of their expectations, the pressure of the carefully crafted image they had built around him. But as he thought of Y/N, of the love they shared, he knew it was time.

"The model they want for the campaign... her name is Y/N. And we've been in a relationship for the past year."

The silence that followed was deafening. Jeonghan's face turned an alarming shade of red, while his PR manager, Ela, looked like she might faint. It was his mechanic, Dino, who broke the tension with a low whistle.

"Damn, boss. You've been holding out on us!"

What followed was a whirlwind of questions, accusations, and hurried strategizing. By the time Seungcheol left the meeting, his head was spinning. He needed to see Y/N, to hold her, to reassure himself that they were making the right decision.

He found her at their favorite café, tucked away in a corner booth. As soon as she saw him, Y/N's face lit up, then quickly fell as she registered his expression.

"What happened?" she asked as he slid into the seat across from her.

Seungcheol reached for her hand, needing the anchor of her touch. "I told them," he said simply. "About us, about the campaign... everything."

Y/N's eyes widened. "How did they take it?"

"About as well as we expected," Seungcheol sighed. "Jeonghan's worried about the sponsors, Ela's already drafting press releases... it's chaos."

Y/N squeezed his hand. "My agent wasn't much better. He thinks it could either make or break my career."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their decision settling over them. Then, almost simultaneously, they began to laugh. It started as a chuckle, then grew until they were both shaking with mirth, drawing curious glances from other patrons.

"God, we're a mess, aren't we?" Y/N gasped between giggles.

Seungcheol grinned, feeling lighter than he had in months. "Yeah, but we're a mess together."

As their laughter subsided, Seungcheol was struck by how beautiful Y/N looked, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with mirth. Without thinking, he leaned across the table and kissed her, right there in the middle of the café.

Y/N froze for a moment, then melted into the kiss. When they parted, she looked around, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness on her face. "Seungcheol! Someone could have seen..."

"Let them see," he said, surprising himself with his boldness. "I'm done hiding, Y/N. I love you, and I want the whole world to know it."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "I love you too," she whispered.

They left the café hand in hand, no longer caring who might see them. As they walked through the city streets, Seungcheol felt a sense of freedom he hadn't experienced in years. He pulled Y/N close, kissing her temple.

"Come on," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have an idea."

Twenty minutes later, they were back in Seungcheol's car, this time parked in the private garage of his apartment building. The space was dimly lit, the concrete walls amplifying every small sound.

"Seungcheol," Y/N breathed as he trailed kisses down her neck. "Are you sure about this? Anyone could walk in..."

He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"

Y/N bit her lip, desire warring with caution in her expression. Then, with a small shake of her head, she pulled him back to her. "No," she whispered against his lips. "Don't you dare stop."

Their kisses grew more heated, hands roaming with increasing urgency. Y/N's shirt found its way to the floor, followed quickly by Seungcheol's. The leather seats creaked as they moved together, the car rocking slightly with their movements.

Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet garage – their ragged breathing, the soft moans that escaped Y/N's lips as Seungcheol's hands explored her body, the rustle of clothing being hastily removed.

When they finally came together, it was with a passion born of their newfound freedom. Gone was the need for silence, for restraint. Y/N cried out Seungcheol's name, her nails raking down his back. Seungcheol groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

They moved together, lost in the sensation, the thrill of potentially being caught only adding to their excitement. The world outside ceased to exist – there was only this moment, only them.

As they reached their peak together, Y/N's back arched, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Seungcheol held her close, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his release.

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Seungcheol pressed soft kisses to Y/N's shoulder, her neck, her cheek.

"I love you," he murmured against her skin. "Whatever happens next, I love you forever."

Y/N smiled, running her fingers through his hair. "I love you forever," she replied.

As they dressed and made their way up to Seungcheol's apartment, both of them knew that tomorrow would bring new challenges. There would be press conferences to face, contracts to negotiate, a gauntlet of public opinion to run.

But for now, as they curled up together on Seungcheol's couch, they were content. They had each other, and they were finally free to show the world their love. Whatever storms lay ahead, they would weather them side by side.

Seungcheol pulled Y/N closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. As sleep began to claim them both, he couldn't help but smile. 

-

The harsh glare of camera flashes assaulted Seungcheol's eyes as he stepped out of his car, his hand firmly clasped around Y/N's. The clamor of reporters shouting questions created a cacophony that threatened to overwhelm them both.

"Seungcheol! How long have you been dating?"

"Y/N! Will this affect your upcoming campaigns?"

"Is this a publicity stunt for Luxe Motors?"

Seungcheol felt Y/N's hand tighten around his, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. They had prepared for this moment, spent hours with their respective PR teams crafting responses and practicing their delivery. But nothing could have truly prepared them for the reality of facing the media storm head-on.

With a deep breath, Seungcheol raised his free hand, and the crowd quieted marginally. "Thank you all for coming," he began, his voice steady despite the nerves roiling in his stomach. "Y/N and I have decided to make our relationship public because we believe in honesty and transparency, both with our fans and with each other."

Y/N stepped forward, her emerald eyes sparkling with determination. "We've been together for a year," she added, her voice clear and confident. "We kept our relationship private initially to focus on our careers, but we now feel ready to share this part of our lives with you all."

As they fielded questions, Seungcheol marveled at Y/N's poise. She handled even the most probing inquiries with grace, her responses thoughtful and measured. When a particularly aggressive reporter asked if she was using Seungcheol for publicity, Y/N's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I've worked hard to build my career on my own merits," she said, her tone icy. "My relationship with Seungcheol is personal, not professional. We support each other's dreams, but we do not define ourselves by each other's success."

Seungcheol felt a surge of pride and love for her in that moment. As the press conference wound down, he couldn't resist pulling her close and placing a soft kiss on her temple, eliciting a fresh round of camera flashes.

Later, as they collapsed onto the couch in Seungcheol's apartment, the adrenaline of the day finally wearing off, Y/N let out a long sigh. "Well, that was intense," she said, kicking off her heels.

Seungcheol pulled her into his arms, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. "You were amazing out there," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/N tilted her head up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh yeah? How proud?"

Seungcheol grinned, recognizing the invitation in her tone. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Y/N responded eagerly, her hands sliding under his shirt, tracing the contours of his abs.

As things heated up, Seungcheol suddenly pulled back, a playful smirk on his face. "You know," he said, his voice husky, "now that we're public, we don't have to hide anymore. How about we give the paparazzi something to really talk about?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you have in mind?"

Seungcheol stood, pulling Y/N up with him. "Trust me," he said, leading her towards the balcony of his penthouse apartment.

The night air was cool on their skin as they stepped outside. The city sprawled before them, a tapestry of lights and shadows. Seungcheol pulled Y/N close, his hands settling on her hips.

"Seungcheol," Y/N gasped, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her voice. "Someone could see us out here."

He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Let them see," he whispered. "I want the whole world to know how much I love you."

Their lips met in a searing kiss, hands roaming with newfound freedom. Seungcheol lifted Y/N onto the wide balustrade, her legs wrapping around his waist. The thrill of potentially being seen only added to their passion.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Seungcheol's hair, tugging gently in the way she knew drove him wild. He groaned into her mouth, his hands sliding under her blouse to caress the soft skin of her back. With deft movements, he unhooked her bra, breaking their kiss to trail his lips down her neck.

"Wait," Y/N panted, pushing him back slightly. Seungcheol froze, concern flooding his features.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, searching her face.

Y/N smiled, touching his cheek tenderly. "Everything's perfect. I just... I want to savor this moment."

She slid off the balustrade, taking Seungcheol's hand and leading him to the plush outdoor sofa. With deliberate slowness, she began to undress him, her eyes never leaving his. Seungcheol watched her, mesmerized by the play of emotions across her face – love, desire, and a vulnerability she rarely showed the world.

As she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, her fingers traced the scar on his collarbone, a remnant from a long-ago racing accident. "I was so scared when this happened," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the mark. "I realized then how much you meant to me."

Seungcheol's heart swelled with emotion. He cupped Y/N's face in his hands, pouring all his love into a tender kiss. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he whispered against her lips. "Better than any pole position, any victory."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She pushed him gently onto the sofa, straddling his lap. As she sank down onto him, they both gasped at the sensation. They moved together slowly, savoring every touch, every sensation.

The city lights twinkled below them, but neither Seungcheol nor Y/N noticed. Their world had narrowed to just this moment, just the two of them. Y/N's head fell back, exposing the elegant line of her throat, and Seungcheol couldn't resist leaning in to place open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

"I love you," Y/N breathed, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much."

Seungcheol's arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly closer. "I love you too," he murmured against her skin. "More than I ever thought possible."

As their passion built, their movements became more urgent. Y/N's nails raked down Seungcheol's back, leaving marks that would linger for days. Seungcheol's hands gripped Y/N's hips, guiding her movements.

When they reached their peak, it was with a shared cry of ecstasy that echoed into the night. They clung to each other, trembling with the intensity of their release.

Afterward, they lay tangled together on the plush outdoor sofa, a blanket draped haphazardly over them. Y/N traced lazy patterns on Seungcheol's chest, her head tucked under his chin.

"Do you think anyone saw us?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

Seungcheol chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "If they did, I hope they enjoyed the show."

Y/N swatted his chest playfully, but she couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You're terrible," she said, but her tone was full of affection.

As they basked in the afterglow, Seungcheol's phone buzzed insistently. With a groan, he reached for it, squinting at the bright screen.

"It's Jeonghan," he said, sitting up. "He wants us at the Luxe Motors headquarters first thing tomorrow morning. Apparently, they're thrilled with the publicity we're generating and want to fast-track the campaign."

Y/N nodded, her expression turning serious. "My agent called earlier. He said the response has been mostly positive, but there are some... less savory rumors starting to circulate."

Seungcheol frowned, pulling Y/N closer. "What kind of rumors?"

She sighed, burying her face in his chest. "The usual trash. That I'm a gold digger, that you're my ticket to the big leagues. Some are even saying this is all a publicity stunt for both our careers."

Anger flared in Seungcheol's chest. "We'll shut them down," he said firmly. "We'll show them how real this is."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Promise me we won't let this change us," she whispered. "Promise me that no matter what happens, it'll always be you and me against the world."

Seungcheol cupped her face in his hands, pouring all his love and conviction into his gaze. "I promise," he said solemnly. "You and me, always."

-

The sleek, modern headquarters of Luxe Motors loomed before Seungcheol and Y/N as they stepped out of their car. Paparazzi immediately swarmed, cameras flashing incessantly. Seungcheol instinctively moved closer to Y/N, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back as they navigated through the crowd.

"Mr. Choi! Ms. Y/N! Over here!"

"How will this relationship affect your careers?"

"Y/N, are you worried about being overshadowed by Seungcheol's fame?"

Y/N tensed at the last question, but maintained her composure, offering a polite smile to the reporters as Seungcheol guided her into the building.

Once inside, Y/N let out a shaky breath. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she admitted, smoothing down her designer dress.

Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're doing great. Remember, we're in this together."

A tall, impeccably dressed woman approached them, her stilettos clicking against the marble floor. "Mr. Choi, Ms. Y/N, welcome to Luxe Motors. I'm Olivia Chen, head of marketing. We're thrilled to have you both here."

As they followed Olivia to the conference room, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice the curious glances and hushed whispers from the employees they passed. Their relationship was clearly the hot topic of discussion.

The meeting room was already occupied when they entered. Jeonghan, Seungcheol's team principal, was engaged in what looked like a heated discussion with a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit.

"Ah, here they are now," the man said, turning to greet them with a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Seungcheol, Y/N, I'm Robert Kensington, CEO of Luxe Motors. We're excited about the possibilities this partnership could bring."

As they took their seats, Robert launched into an enthusiastic pitch about the campaign. "We're thinking of a series of ads that showcase both the speed and elegance of our vehicles. Seungcheol, you'll represent the power and precision of our sports models. Y/N, you'll embody the sophistication and luxury of our high-end line."

Y/N nodded, her face a mask of professional interest, but Seungcheol could see the slight furrow in her brow. He knew that look – she wasn't entirely comfortable with something.

"We've also had some... interesting ideas about how to capitalize on your relationship," Robert continued, his tone becoming more cautious. "We were thinking of a tagline: 'The Perfect Match – On and Off the Track.'"

Seungcheol felt Y/N stiffen beside him. Before he could speak, she leaned forward, her voice cool and controlled. "Mr. Kensington, while we appreciate your enthusiasm, I hope you understand that our relationship isn't a marketing tool. We're here as individual professionals, not as a... a product to be sold."

Robert's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Of course, of course. We completely respect your privacy. Perhaps we could discuss some alternative approaches..."

The meeting dragged on for hours, a complex dance of negotiations and compromises. By the time they emerged, Seungcheol felt drained, as if he'd just completed a grueling race.

"Well, that was intense," he said as they made their way to the parking lot. "You were amazing in there, by the way. The way you stood up to Kensington..."

Y/N's smile was tight. "Thanks. I just... I don't want us to become some kind of circus act, you know? I want to be taken seriously for my work, not just as your girlfriend."

Seungcheol pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I know, love. We'll make sure that doesn't happen."

As they approached their car, a young woman suddenly darted in front of them, her phone held out. "Oh my god, it's really you! Can I get a selfie?"

Before either of them could respond, she wedged herself between them, snapping several pictures in quick succession. "This is so cool! My followers are going to freak out!"

The encounter left them both feeling unsettled. As Seungcheol drove them home, Y/N was uncharacteristically quiet, staring out the window with a pensive expression.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Seungcheol asked, reaching over to take her hand.

Y/N sighed, turning to face him. "I'm just... I'm worried, Cheol. About us, about our careers. What if this whole thing blows up in our faces?"

Seungcheol pulled the car over, giving Y/N his full attention. "Hey, look at me," he said gently, cupping her face in his hands. "We knew this wouldn't be easy. But we're stronger together, remember? Whatever comes, we'll face it as a team."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. When she opened them, there was a newfound determination in her gaze. "You're right. We've got this."

As they leaned in for a kiss, neither of them noticed the lone paparazzo hiding in the bushes, his camera capturing every intimate moment.

The next morning, Seungcheol woke to the insistent buzzing of his phone. Groggily, he reached for it, careful not to wake Y/N who was still sleeping peacefully beside him.

His blood ran cold as he saw the barrage of messages and missed calls. There, plastered across every sports and gossip site, was a photo of him and Y/N in what should have been a private moment. The headlines screamed:

"SEUNGCHEOL AND Y/N: TROUBLE IN PARADISE?"

"RACING CHAMP AND MODEL GIRLFRIEND: SECRET ROADSIDE RENDEZVOUS"

"IS THE PRESSURE ALREADY TOO MUCH FOR F1'S NEW IT COUPLE?"

As Y/N stirred beside him, Seungcheol felt a surge of protectiveness. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, but he was determined to shield their love from the prying eyes of the world. Little did he know, this was just the beginning of the obstacles they would face.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come. As Y/N's eyes fluttered open, he forced a smile. "Morning, beautiful. We need to talk..."

-

Seungcheol watched anxiously as Y/N's eyes scanned the headlines on his phone, her expression morphing from confusion to shock, and finally settling into a mask of cold anger.

"How dare they?" she hissed, her knuckles white as she gripped the phone. "That was a private moment. How could they twist it like this?"

Seungcheol pulled her into his arms, feeling her tremble with a mix of rage and hurt. "I'm so sorry, love. I should have been more careful. I should have—"

Y/N cut him off, pulling back to look him in the eye. "No, Cheol. This isn't your fault. We have nothing to be ashamed of. We're adults in a committed relationship. They're the ones who should be ashamed, invading our privacy like this."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and love for Y/N's strength. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You're right. So, what do we do now?"

Before Y/N could respond, both their phones began buzzing incessantly. Their respective agents, PR teams, and sponsors were all clamoring for statements and damage control strategies.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. "I guess we face the music."

The next few hours were a whirlwind of conference calls, emergency meetings, and carefully crafted statements. By midday, Seungcheol felt as if he'd aged years. He looked over at Y/N, who was finishing up a call with her modeling agency.

"No, I will not issue an apology for being in a relationship," she was saying, her voice firm. "We've done nothing wrong. ... Yes, I understand the contract has a morality clause, but this hardly qualifies. ... Fine, we'll discuss this further in person."

She ended the call with a frustrated huff, tossing her phone onto the couch. "This is ridiculous. You'd think we'd committed some horrible crime."

Seungcheol moved to sit beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "How about we get out of here for a bit? Clear our heads?"

Y/N looked skeptical. "And go where? There are probably paparazzi camped outside as we speak."

A mischievous glint appeared in Seungcheol's eye. "Leave that to me."

Thirty minutes later, they were speeding down a secluded coastal road in Seungcheol's sports car, the top down and the wind whipping through their hair. Y/N tilted her head back, basking in the warmth of the sun on her face, a genuine smile gracing her features for the first time that day.

Seungcheol glanced over at her, his heart swelling with emotion. This was the Y/N he fell in love with – carefree, radiant, and full of life. He made a silent vow to do whatever it took to protect their happiness.

They drove for hours, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying each other's company away from the prying eyes of the world. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, Seungcheol pulled off onto a hidden dirt road.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, curiosity piqued.

"You'll see," Seungcheol replied with a wink.

The road led them to a secluded cove, the beach empty save for a few seabirds. Seungcheol parked the car and came around to open Y/N's door, offering his hand with an exaggerated bow.

"My lady," he said in a faux posh accent, eliciting a giggle from Y/N.

Hand in hand, they walked down to the water's edge, the cool sand between their toes a stark contrast to the warmth of the fading sun. They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching the waves crash against the shore.

"Thank you for this," Y/N said softly, leaning her head on Seungcheol's shoulder. "I needed it more than I realized."

Seungcheol turned to face her, cupping her face gently in his hands. "Y/N, I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter what the world throws at us, I'm here. Always."

Y/N's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked up at him. "I love you, Seungcheol. So much it scares me sometimes."

Their lips met in a kiss that started soft and tender but quickly ignited into something more passionate. Y/N's hands fisted in Seungcheol's shirt, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Seungcheol rested his forehead against Y/N's. "Come on," he said, his voice husky. "I have one more surprise for you."

He led her back to the car, opening the trunk to reveal a picnic basket and a pile of blankets. Y/N's face lit up with delight.

"You planned this?"

Seungcheol shrugged, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "I may have made a few calls while you were in the shower this morning. I thought we might need an escape."

They spread the blankets on the hood of the car, laying back to watch as the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky. They fed each other strawberries and sipped champagne, talking about everything and nothing.

As the night grew cooler, Y/N snuggled closer to Seungcheol, her hand tracing idle patterns on his chest. The tension that had been building between them all day finally reached its breaking point.

Seungcheol captured Y/N's wandering hand, bringing it to his lips to place a soft kiss on her palm. The simple gesture sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. She propped herself up on one elbow, gazing down at Seungcheol with eyes dark with desire.

"Make love to me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Seungcheol didn't need to be asked twice. In one fluid motion, he flipped their positions, hovering over Y/N with a look of such intense love and desire that it took her breath away.

Their kisses were heated, urgent, hands roaming and exploring as if discovering each other for the first time. Clothes were shed with little regard, tossed haphazardly onto the sand.

Seungcheol trailed kisses down Y/N's neck, across her collarbone, and lower still. Y/N arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as waves of pleasure washed over her.

When Seungcheol finally entered her, they both gasped at the sensation. They moved together in perfect synchrony, the rhythm of their lovemaking echoing the crash of waves against the shore.

Y/N clung to Seungcheol, her nails raking down his back as she neared her peak. "Cheol," she panted, "I'm close..."

Seungcheol increased his pace, driving them both towards ecstasy. "Let go, baby," he murmured against her ear. "I've got you."

They reached their climax together, crying out each other's names into the night. As they came down from their high, Seungcheol peppered Y/N's face with soft kisses, murmuring words of love and adoration.

They lay entwined under the stars, basking in the afterglow, when a sudden flash of light startled them. For a heart-stopping moment, they feared they'd been discovered by paparazzi. But it was just a shooting star, streaking across the sky in a brilliant arc.

Y/N laughed, the sound full of relief and joy. "Make a wish," she said, snuggling closer to Seungcheol.

He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I already have everything I could wish for right here."

As they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms and the warmth of the blankets, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt a renewed sense of strength and unity. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

The harsh light of morning brought with it a return to reality. As Seungcheol and Y/N made their way back to the city, both their phones began buzzing with missed calls and messages.

"I suppose it was too much to hope the world would just forget about us for a day," Y/N sighed, scrolling through her notifications.

Seungcheol reached over to squeeze her hand. "Hey, remember what we talked about. Us against the world, right?"

Y/N smiled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Right."

Their first stop was Seungcheol's race team headquarters. As they walked in, hand in hand, a hush fell over the usually bustling pit crew. Jeonghan approached them, his expression unreadable.

"Seungcheol, Y/N, my office please."

Once inside, Jeonghan's stern facade crumbled. "Do you two have any idea the headache you've caused me?" he said, but there was a note of fondness in his exasperation. "Half our sponsors are in a panic, the other half want to increase your visibility. It's chaos out there."

Seungcheol straightened, his jaw set in determination. "Jeonghan, I'm sorry for any trouble this has caused the team. But I won't apologize for my relationship with Y/N. If the sponsors have a problem with that—"

Jeonghan held up a hand, cutting him off. "Relax, kid. Nobody's asking you to choose between your career and your girl. We just need to manage this situation better. Which is why I've hired a speciality PR firm to handle your public image as a couple."

Y/N and Seungcheol exchanged surprised glances. This was not what they had expected.

"You're... supportive of us?" Y/N asked hesitantly.

Jeonghan's expression softened. "Look, I've known Seungcheol since he was a rookie. I've never seen him as happy or as focused as he's been since he met you. As far as I'm concerned, you're good for him and good for this team. We just need to make sure the rest of the world sees that too."

Relief washed over both of them. As they left Jeonghan's office, Seungcheol pulled Y/N into a tight hug. "One down," he murmured into her hair.

"One down," she agreed. "Now we just have to face my agency."

The meeting with Y/N's modeling agency was considerably less pleasant. Her agent, a sharp-faced woman named Vivian, paced the conference room like a caged tiger.

"Do you have any idea how many contracts we've had to renegotiate because of this scandal?" she snapped. "Your wholesome image was a major selling point, Y/N. Now half our clients are worried you're too controversial."

Y/N felt Seungcheol tense beside her, but she placed a calming hand on his arm. "Vivian," she said, her voice steady, "I understand your concerns. But I'm still the same model I was a week ago. My relationship status doesn't change my professionalism or my ability to do my job."

Vivian stopped pacing, fixing Y/N with a calculating look. "Maybe... maybe we can work with this. The bad girl image is in right now. And a high-profile relationship could open up new markets..."

As Vivian continued to muse about potential strategies, Y/N and Seungcheol shared a look of disbelief. It seemed that even in this storm of controversy, there might be a silver lining.

By the time they left the agency, both Seungcheol and Y/N were emotionally drained. As they walked to their car, a small group of fans approached, asking for autographs and selfies.

Y/N tensed, expecting intrusive questions or judgmental looks. But to her surprise, the fans were supportive and excited.

"You guys are so cute together!" one young girl gushed. "I hope I find someone who looks at me the way Seungcheol looks at you."

As they drove home, Y/N felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "You know," she said, turning to Seungcheol, "maybe this won't be as bad as we thought."

Seungcheol grinned, bringing her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. "With you by my side? Nothing's too tough to handle."

As they pulled into their driveway, both their phones pinged with a notification. It was a message from the PR firm Jeonghan had hired, outlining their strategy for the coming weeks.

Y/N scrolled through the message, her eyes widening. "They want us to do a joint interview? And a photoshoot for a major magazine?"

Seungcheol nodded, looking thoughtful. "It could be a good opportunity to control the narrative. Tell our story on our own terms."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "You're right. And hey, at least we'll be facing it together."

As they walked into their home, hand in hand, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be challenging, but they were determined to navigate it together, their love serving as both compass and anchor in the stormy seas of public life.

Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day, they decided to turn in early. As they went through their nightly routines, moving around each other with the comfortable familiarity of a long-term couple, both felt a deep sense of gratitude for the other's presence.

Y/N finished brushing her teeth and padded into the bedroom, where Seungcheol was already under the covers, his back propped against the headboard as he scrolled through his phone. He looked up as she entered, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"Come here, you," he said, setting his phone aside and opening his arms.

Y/N didn't need to be told twice. She slipped under the covers and into Seungcheol's embrace, sighing contentedly as she rested her head on his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear was comforting, grounding.

Seungcheol's fingers threaded through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Y/N thought for a moment before answering. "Honestly? I feel... good. Today was crazy, but we got through it. Together."

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "We did. And we'll get through whatever comes next the same way."

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining with love and trust. "I know we will. I love you, Seungcheol."

"I love you too, Y/N," he murmured, leaning down to capture her lips in a tender kiss.

As they settled into bed, Seungcheol's arms wrapped securely around Y/N, her back pressed to his chest, they both felt a profound sense of peace. The outside world, with all its demands and judgments, seemed far away. In this moment, in the quiet of their bedroom, nothing existed but the two of them and the love they shared.

Y/N snuggled deeper into Seungcheol's embrace, feeling safe and cherished. "Goodnight, love," she whispered, her eyes already heavy with sleep.

"Goodnight, beautiful," Seungcheol replied, placing one last soft kiss on her shoulder.

As they drifted off to sleep, tangled in each other's arms, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt truly content.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. Seungcheol stirred first, his eyes blinking open to find Y/N still nestled in his arms, her face peaceful in sleep. He couldn't help but smile, marveling at how beautiful she looked in the soft light.

As if sensing his gaze, Y/N's eyes fluttered open. A slow, sleepy smile spread across her face as she met Seungcheol's loving gaze. "Good morning, handsome," she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.

Seungcheol leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?"

Y/N nodded, stretching languidly against him. "Mmm, like a baby. You make an excellent pillow, you know."

Seungcheol chuckled, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. "Happy to be of service."

They lay there for a while longer, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the morning. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous day, and both of them savored the peaceful moment.

Eventually, the buzz of Seungcheol's phone on the nightstand broke the spell. He reached for it, careful not to disturb Y/N too much.

"It's Jeonghan," he said, scanning the message. "The PR team wants to meet with us this afternoon to prep for the interview and photoshoot."

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, her expression a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I guess it's time to face the music, huh?"

Seungcheol set the phone aside and pulled Y/N closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey, we've got this. Remember, it's just us telling our story."

Y/N nodded, drawing strength from his confidence. "You're right. Plus, it might even be fun. I've always wanted to see you try to model," she added with a teasing grin.

Seungcheol gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me, I'll have you know I'm an excellent model. These racing suits don't wear themselves, you know."

Their laughter filled the room, dispelling any lingering tension. As they got up to start their day, both felt ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.

The PR team's office was a sleek, modern space in the heart of the city. Seungcheol and Y/N were ushered into a conference room where they were greeted by a trio of sharp-looking professionals.

"Seungcheol, Y/N, thank you for coming," said the woman at the head of the table. "I'm Rebecca, and this is my team, Alex and Mia. We're here to help you navigate this new chapter in your public lives."

For the next few hours, they went over strategies for the upcoming interview and photoshoot. The team was impressed by the natural chemistry between Seungcheol and Y/N, often exchanging pleased glances as the couple interacted.

"You two are naturals," Alex commented during a break. "The camera is going to love you."

As they were wrapping up, Rebecca handed them each a folder. "These are some talking points for the interview. Remember, the goal is to be authentic while also presenting a united front. Your love story is compelling – let that shine through."

Seungcheol and Y/N left the meeting feeling more confident about the upcoming media appearances. As they walked hand in hand down the busy street, Y/N suddenly tugged Seungcheol to a stop.

"Look," she said, pointing across the road. There, on a massive billboard, was an advertisement for Luxe Motors featuring a stunning sports car. "That could be us up there soon."

Seungcheol wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "It will be. And we'll look damn good doing it."

The day of the photoshoot arrived bright and early. The set was a gorgeous beachfront property, with the ocean providing a stunning backdrop. As they went through hair and makeup, Seungcheol couldn't keep his eyes off Y/N.

"You know," he said, leaning close to whisper in her ear, "if this is what modeling is like, I might have to reconsider my career choices."

Y/N laughed, swatting him playfully. "Don't you dare. I quite like having a race car driver for a boyfriend."

The photoshoot itself was a whirlwind of costume changes, different poses, and endless flashes. But through it all, Seungcheol and Y/N's natural chemistry shone through. Whether they were posed casually by a vintage car or dressed to the nines for a red carpet shot, their connection was palpable.

"These are going to be stunning," the photographer gushed as he showed them some of the shots on his camera. "You can really feel the love between you two."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the beach, the photographer suggested one last shot. Seungcheol and Y/N stood at the water's edge, the waves lapping at their feet. With the Luxe Motors car in the background, Seungcheol wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind, both of them looking out at the horizon.

"Perfect," the photographer said softly, not wanting to break the moment. "That's a wrap, folks!"

Later that evening, as they returned to Seungcheol's apartment, the excitement of the day still thrummed through their veins. Y/N scrolled through some of the behind-the-scenes photos on her phone as Seungcheol poured them each a glass of wine.

"We do look good together, don't we?" she mused, showing Seungcheol a candid shot of them laughing between takes.

Seungcheol set the wine glasses on the kitchen counter and moved behind Y/N, wrapping his arms around her waist. "The best," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Though I have to say, I prefer the real thing to any photo."

Y/N's breath hitched as Seungcheol's lips trailed down her neck. She set her phone aside, turning in his arms to face him. "Is that so?" she breathed, her eyes dark with desire. "Care to show me just how much you prefer the real thing?"

In response, Seungcheol captured her lips in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. With a low growl, Seungcheol lifted her onto the kitchen counter, stepping between her legs as she wrapped them around his waist.

Their kisses grew more heated, hands roaming with increasing urgency. Y/N tugged at Seungcheol's shirt, and he broke away just long enough to pull it off before returning to her lips. His hands slid under her blouse, caressing the soft skin of her back.

"Cheol," Y/N gasped as his lips found that spot on her neck again. "Bedroom?"

Seungcheol pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Why wait?" he asked, his voice husky. "I want you right here, right now."

Y/N's answer was to pull him back in for another passionate kiss. Clothes were shed hastily, scattering across the kitchen floor. When Seungcheol finally entered her, they both gasped at the sensation.

They moved together with a passionate urgency, the counter providing the perfect leverage. Y/N's nails raked down Seungcheol's back as she neared her peak, while Seungcheol's hands gripped her hips, guiding their movements.

"Cheol, I'm close," Y/N panted, her head falling back in ecstasy.

"Let go, baby," Seungcheol murmured against her skin. "I've got you."

They reached their climax together, crying out each other's names into the quiet of the apartment. As they came down from their high, Seungcheol peppered Y/N's face with soft kisses, murmuring words of love and adoration.

Later, as they lounged on the couch, wrapped in soft blankets and each other's arms, Y/N's phone buzzed with a notification. She reached for it, her eyes widening as she read the message.

"Cheol, look at this," she said, showing him the screen. "The magazine wants to bump up the release date of our photoshoot. They say the public's fascination with us is at an all-time high."

Seungcheol read the message, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Looks like our risk is paying off, huh?"

Y/N nodded, snuggling closer to him. "I was so worried about going public, but now... it feels right. Like we're finally free to just be us."

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I know what you mean. It's like the whole world can see what I've known all along – that you're the most amazing person I've ever met."

Y/N tilted her head up, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When they parted, she had a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, I think we missed a spot in the kitchen. Want to go for round two?"

Seungcheol laughed, the sound full of joy and love. "Lead the way, beautiful."

As they made their way back to the kitchen, hand in hand and giggling like teenagers, both Seungcheol and Y/N felt a profound sense of happiness. Their relationship had been thrust into the spotlight, but rather than wilting under the pressure, they had blossomed. Together, they were ready to face whatever the future held, their love a beacon guiding them through the dazzling world of fame and fortune.

The next morning dawned bright and early, finding Seungcheol and Y/N already up and about. They moved around the kitchen in perfect sync, preparing breakfast together as they discussed their plans for the day.

"I've got a team meeting at 10," Seungcheol said as he flipped pancakes. "Want to meet for lunch after?"

Y/N nodded, pouring coffee into their mugs. "Sounds perfect. I've got a fitting for that new designer campaign, but I should be done by noon."

As they sat down to eat, both their phones pinged with new messages. They shared a look, then reached for their devices.

"It's from the PR team," Seungcheol said, scanning the message. "They want to schedule a follow-up interview to coincide with the magazine release."

Y/N's eyes lit up as she read her own message. "Luxe Motors loves the preview shots. They want to discuss a long-term partnership with both of us!"

Seungcheol reached across the table, taking Y/N's hand in his. "Ready for our next adventure?" he asked, his eyes shining with excitement and love.

Y/N squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "With you? Always."

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SLEEPLESS NIGHT

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Spencer finally has a night to sleep at his apartment with his girlfriend, but the current case doesn't even let him close his eyes, leading him to study the files until ungodly hours. But who said that Y/N can sleep away from him?

WARNING: Slightly mention of age gap (reader is still in college), tooth rotting fluff.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Spencer hated bringing work home, and he had two very specific reasons for it. First, he loathed the idea of mixing his work life with his personal life. The BAU was a constant source of darkness; gruesome crimes, twisted minds, and the unrelenting pressure to solve the unsolvable.

His home was the opposite: a place of light and warmth, a refuge from the horrors that haunted him on a daily basis. But more importantly, home was where Y/N was. She was the one person who could pull him from the depths of his thoughts, her mere presence offering a calm that he couldn't find anywhere else. She was his life, his anchor, and his sanctuary.

Their time together was sacred, especially with the demands of his job taking him away so often. Whether he was chasing unsubs across the country or spending endless hours poring over case files at the BAU, being away from Y/N was the hardest part of his job. When he was home, he wanted to be fully present, to make up for the time he lost while he was away.

He cherished the quiet moments, the lazy evenings where they could simply exist together without the weight of the world bearing down on him. He wanted to give her every ounce of his attention, to make her feel just how much she meant to him.

But then, there were nights like tonight, when the case followed him home despite his best intentions, forcing him to divide his focus in a way that always left him feeling guilty.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, filtered through the sheer curtains that hung over the windows. The clock on the nightstand read 2:37 AM, its gentle green glow a quiet reminder of how late it had become.

Spencer lay on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling, though his mind was far from still. It raced, chasing the loose ends of the case, replaying details, searching for the missing link that could unravel everything. The unsub was smart, meticulous in his planning, calculating in his movements. It was unnerving, the way this case was so close to home, right here in Quantico.

Hotch had granted the team a rare night to return home and rest, knowing the work would pick up again with relentless intensity in the morning. Spencer knew he should be grateful for the chance to sleep in his own bed, to hold Y/N close, and let her warmth lull him into rest. But sleep felt impossible.

Beside him, Y/N slept soundly, her body curled against his. One arm rested across his chest, her hand fisting tightly the fabric of his white shirt and her hand tucked beneath his shoulder, as if even in sleep, she sought him out. Her breathing was soft and even, the slow rise and fall of her chest a soothing rhythm against his side.

Spencer turned his head slightly, watching her. She looked peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on her lips, probably remains of a dream. His heart clenched with love, a wave of warmth and tenderness washing over him.

With a soft sigh, Spencer slid his right arm beneath her, his hand resting gently on her back, the warmth of her skin seeping through the fabric of the sweater she wore - his sweater. He brought his other hand down to her bare leg, carefully shifting her until her right one draped across his thighs, her body instinctively curling closer to him, almost laying fully above him.

His fingers trailed softly along her thigh, the smooth skin warm beneath his touch. The gesture was soothing, grounding him in the present moment, in the feel of her against him. His thumb stroked lazy circles on her flesh, his touch light and reverent, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her - as if he already didn't had each part of her craved inside his head.

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of her hair. It was a mixture of her shampoo and something uniquely hers, a scent that had always brought him comfort. His lips brushed against the delicate skin of her closed eyelids, another kiss pressed to her temple. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her hand tightening its grip on his shirt.

His right hand traveled across the fabric of his sweater, slipping below it, his fingertips sliding higher, brushing against the bare skin of her back. She was so warm, her skin so soft, and the feel of her made something inside him settle, if only for a moment. He continued to stroke her thigh with one hand, his other one gently massaging the muscles of her back, feeling the way her body relaxed further into him.

He stared at her for a long moment, his mind flickering between her and work. He didn’t want to leave her alone in bed, didn’t want to let it drag him away from her. Spencer knew Y/N deserved a good night's sleep more than anyone. She had been tirelessly studying for her college finals, always the most academically involved and dedicated in her class, which caused her to staying up late, buried in textbooks and research papers - just as he spent sleepless nights away on cases.

But even as he held her close, the details of the case gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, refusing to be ignored.

With a reluctant sigh, he carefully began to shift, his movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to disturb her. His hand on her thigh slid away, and he gently eased her leg off his hips, tucking it back beneath the blankets. She mumbled softly in her sleep, her body instinctively moving toward his warmth even as he slipped out from under her.

Spencer sat up, pausing for a moment as he watched her stir. Her hand reached for him in her sleep, her face burrowing further into his pillow as if searching for his scent. The sight made his chest tighten with both affection and guilty.

With one last glance at Y/N, Spencer stood, moving with the quiet precision of someone who was used to slipping away in the dead of night. He padded silently out of the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath his feet.

The apartment was shrouded in a heavy, comfortable darkness, the only sound breaking the quiet being the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Spencer moved with practiced silence, stepping lightly through the familiar space until he reached the small room they’d turned into a makeshift office. It was cluttered with his books, scattered papers, and, more recently, case files.

He flicked on the desk lamp, casting a soft, amber glow across the cluttered desk. His movements were slow, careful not to disturb the serene quiet that enveloped the apartment as he sank into his chair, rescuing his folded glasses from between all those papers.

In front of him lay the case file, the photographs of the victims staring back at him as if mocking his inability to piece it all together. He scanned the reports for what felt like the hundredth time, his brow creased in thought, eyes darting over the details.

Minutes bled into an hour, maybe more. His glasses had slipped halfway down his nose as he leaned in closer to the desk, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the crime scene photos. His other hand tugged at the cuff of his pajama sleeve, lost in the rhythm of his restless thoughts.

Just then, the sound of soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor reached his ears, the faint shuffling of bare feet snapping him out of his thoughts. He barely turned in his chair before he saw her; a sleepy, disheveled Y/N standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the faint glow of the hallway light. The sleeves of his sweater were falling over her hands, causing her shoulders to become exposed, and her eyes were heavy with the remnants of sleep.

"Spence..." She mumbled, her voice raspy and thick with drowsiness. The sight of her tugged at his heart in the most tender way.

Spencer’s face softened instantly, guilt creeping in at the edges of his thoughts. He’d woken her.

"Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, pushing the file aside and giving her his full attention. His voice was quiet, filled with concern. "What are you doing awake? You should be asleep."

Y/N blinked at him, the bleariness in her eyes making her seem even smaller and more vulnerable. She swayed slightly on her feet, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I woke up... and you weren’t there." She slurred softly, taking a small step toward him, her expression confused and sleepy.

His heart clenched at her words, a wave of guilt washing over him. He hated that he’d caused her to wake up, especially on a week that she spent too much time studying and having little to no rest. He adjusted his posture above the chair, motioning her closer with gentle hands, but Y/N was already moving on her own, shuffling across the room with slow, sleepy steps, her gaze never leaving him.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, dove." He whispered as she reached him. He reached out with his hands as she practically fell into his arms.

She pushed his arms open with little effort and maneuvered herself onto his lap, pressing against him as if seeking out the warmth she’d missed. Her legs straddled his thighs, her knees resting above the sides of the chair, her body curling around his like a koala hugging a tree. The weight of her felt perfect, grounding him as she nestled closer, her chest rising and falling softly against him.

"Spence, don’t apologize." She murmured, her breath tickling the skin of his neck as she shifted, her nose nuzzling into the curve of it, seeking his scent. She pressed her face against him, her lips brushing feather-light against the sensitive skin just below his ear as she planted a sleepy kiss. "You know I just can’t sleep well without you."

Spencer let out a shaky breath, the soft, familiar feeling of her lips against his neck sending warmth coursing through him. His left hand instinctively found her back, his fingers running to the hem of his sweater and lifting it slightly, making room for hand to enter under the fabric and meet her skin, spreading his fingers as he began tracing lazy circles along her spine, soothing her.

Y/N sighed in pleasure, her left hand gently crawling up to his face. Her fingers softly traced the rough stubble along his cheek before instinctively pushing his glasses back up to their proper place, her fingertips grazing the bridge of his nose in a familiar, soothing motion.

He smiled softly, his guilt still lingering but melting slightly under the comfort of her touch. She was so close, so vulnerable in her half-asleep state, and it made him feel even more protective of her.

"You should be in bed." He whispered, his voice low and affectionate, his hand continuing its gentle caress. "You have finals tomorrow... and this position’s going to make your back hurt in the morning." He tried to sound stern, but the amusement in his tone betrayed him. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly as Y/N shifted again, her hand leaving his face and meeting the other side of his neck, her right arm tightening around his torso in silent protest.

"I don’t care." She mumbled into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke. "I love you. I want to be here."

His heart swelled at her words, an overwhelming wave of love flooding him. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the comforting scent of her.

"I love you more." He whispered back, his voice barely audible as he nuzzled his cheek against her hair. His hand never stopped its rhythmic movement along her back, his touch gentle and tender.

Y/N hummed in response, her breathing already slowing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her back toward sleep. Spencer could feel the way her body relaxed against his, her weight becoming heavier as she melted further into him. She was so peaceful, her soft breaths brushing against his skin in a steady rhythm.

Spencer's eyes drifted to the case file still resting on the desk, his mind unwilling to let go of the details he was trying to piece together. His hand continued to trail soothing patterns on her back, and he tilted his head down, pressing another kiss to her temple, noticing how her body was giving way to sleep again.

"Let me tuck you back into bed, sweetheart." He whispered against her skin, insisting. "You need the proper rest."

But Y/N shifted in his lap, shaking her head, clearly unwilling to move.

"No." She mumbled, her voice soft but convincing. "What I need is to be with you." She burrowed her face deeper into his neck, pressing her nose against his skin and nuzzling him like she was trying to become a part of him. "Let me stay here. Please."

Spencer sighed softly, feeling torn between the the case and the warmth of Y/N in his arms. He glanced back at Y/N, her soft breathing and her peaceful face pressed against his neck, shaking his head with how stubborn she could be.

Wrapping his arms fully around her, he held her close, one hand still caressing her back while the other pulled the case file closer to him again, reopening it and going back to the first page.

[tsunagite]

Oh yeah I should actually post these guys

Trivia:

I finished Logos first and Rise of the World last

UNKNOWN LEVELS took the longest to draw (I was just slow) while Rise took multiple drafts

Technicolour was the easiest and quickest to draw (mostly cuz there wasn’t an already central character)

My fav is probably Logos (both song and design-wise) so ya’ll are probably gonna see her a lot more

Drawing all of this burnt me the hell out which is why I haven’t completed requests as of late so plz be patient with me :’D

[connorsui]

Behind Closed Doors

Prohero Katsuki x reader

Genre/Warnings: Domestic Fluff, soft moments, slight emotional variability for katsuki, katsukis attitude

Synopsis: —his love for you is hidden in the small, everyday acts of affection.

Note: I like to imagine katsuki becoming a completely different person when he's left alone with you 🍒

w.c: 2,211

The difference in Katsuki’s behavior always caught you off guard, no matter how long you’d been together. In public, he stormed through crowds with an intensity that left everyone around him on edge. His voice would rise above the noise, sharp and commanding, as he ordered others around or shut down any attempt at small talk with a single glare. He hated being slowed down and hated when people got in his way. But when his gaze flickered to you, just for a moment, there was something else—something quieter, softer, that only you could see.

It wasn’t that Katsuki toned it down in public—not by a long shot—but there was a certain way he carried himself when you were beside him. As if you were the exception to the rule, the one person he didn’t mind sticking around. Even when surrounded by fans or reporters, his body would instinctively angle toward you, a subtle shield between you and the world. His touch was always firm, but never rough, as though he was unconsciously protecting the one part of his life he wanted to keep safe from the chaos.

One night, after a particularly long day, Katsuki came home more irritable than usual. You heard it the moment the door slammed shut, his heavy boots stomping across the floor. He tossed his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink, his jaw tight, and his scowl deeper than normal.

“—fucking idiots…” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Can’t even do their damn jobs, right”

You watched him from the couch, knowing better than to approach him immediately when he was like this. Katsuki needed time to cool down to let the frustration simmer until it dulled. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. He was all bark out there, terrifying to anyone who crossed his path, but you knew that in just a few minutes, he’d come over, sit next to you, and let out that sigh—the one that meant he was done being a hero for the day.

And, just as expected, he did. After a few moments of grumbling to himself, Katsuki crossed the room and dropped down beside you with a huff, his head falling back against the couch cushions. You didn’t say anything, just reached out and placed your hand on his thigh, grounding him with a simple touch. His shoulders relaxed almost instantly, the tension melting away as he exhaled deeply.

“Rough day, huh?” you asked quietly, giving his leg a gentle squeeze.

“Tch. Yeah.” He closed his eyes, one hand covering his face. “Just sick of dealin’ with everybody out there all day.”

There was a pause, the room settling into a comfortable silence before he added, his voice quieter, almost sheepish, “Missed you…”

It was in those moments you realized how much he relied on you to recharge. He wasn’t the type to come home and fall apart, but there was a vulnerability in the way he leaned into you, even when he tried to play it off. Katsuki didn’t need grand gestures or declarations; he showed his love in the way he let his guard down when it was just the two of you.

Later that night, after you both settled into bed, Katsuki turned toward you, his movements slower, more deliberate as the day’s tension ebbed away. Without a word, he tugged you into his chest, his strong arm wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you close. The heat of his body seeped into yours, and the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat thudded softly beneath your ear. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as it brushed against your skin, sending a wave of comfort through you.

His grip was firm, possessive, but tender, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him grounded. For a long moment, he said nothing, just breathed you in, his hand tracing lazy circles on your lower back. Then, with quiet vulnerability, Katsuki’s voice rumbled softly against your neck, thick with the weight of sleep and affection he rarely voiced.

“Can’t stand anyone else… but you,” he mumbled, his lips brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “But with you… everything feels right.”

The words were so soft they could’ve easily been lost to the night, but in the quiet of your room, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Your heart swelled, warmth spreading through your chest at the rare, intimate admission. Turning in his arms, you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth. Katsuki’s hold tightened instantly, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head, as if the simple act of being this close wasn’t enough.

He exhaled deeply, the last of his tension melting away as he pulled you impossibly closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You’re not goin’ anywhere,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a whispered promise in the quiet. "Not without me."

In that moment, there was no one else in the world but the two of you—wrapped up in each other, his love woven into every touch, every breath, every heartbeat.

It was in these moments, when the world outside faded away and it was just the two of you tangled in the sheets, that you truly understood how much Katsuki cared. How deeply he loved, even if he didn’t always say it out loud. You saw it in the way he relaxed when you were near, the way his fiery temper cooled into something soft and unguarded, a side of him no one else ever got to see.

Katsuki might hate the world—hell, he made no secret of how unbearable he found most people—but when it came to you, it was different. You were the calm in his storm, the quiet he sought after the chaos of hero work. And in return, he gave you a side of himself no one else would ever know. That alone was enough to show you just how much he cherished you.

The next morning, you woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Katsuki moving around the kitchen. When you padded out, rubbing sleep from your eyes, you found him already dressed in his hero uniform, his back to you as he flipped something in a pan.

“You’re up early,” you remarked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, well,” he grunted, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “Figured I’d make you breakfast before I head out. Can’t have you starvin’ while I’m out dealin’ with idiots, can I?”

You laughed, moving over to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek to his broad back. “I love you, Katsuki.”

“Tch… love you too,” he muttered, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

The warmth of Katsuki’s back against your cheek, combined with the rich smell of breakfast, made you want to stay wrapped around him for the rest of the morning. You lingered there for a moment longer, savoring the rare quiet before he had to face the demands of the day.

He turned off the burner with a sharp flick of his wrist, then nudged you gently with his elbow, his tone playfully gruff. “Go sit down, idiot. I made all this for you, not so you could just stand around and get in the way.”

You smiled at the familiar edge to his words, knowing the affection that lay underneath. “Okay, okay,” you teased, stepping back and heading to the table. As you sat down, Katsuki brought over a plate piled with perfectly golden toast, eggs cooked just the way you liked them, and a small portion of your favorite fruit. The meal was simple, but you could feel the care in every detail.

He placed the plate in front of you, then leaned down, brushing a quick kiss to the top of your head before heading back to the kitchen to grab his own breakfast. “Eat up,” he said over his shoulder, his voice softer than before.

You dug in, and the taste of the food, combined with Katsuki’s quiet gestures of love, made your chest feel full. It wasn’t grand or elaborate, but that was what made it so special—the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, sharing something as simple as breakfast.

As Katsuki sat down across from you, he kept glancing up from his plate, watching you eat with a soft expression that only you ever got to see. He didn’t say much, just occasionally asked if you needed more coffee or wanted another piece of toast. There was a contentment in the air, one that spoke of a love that didn’t need constant words to be understood.

When the meal was finished, you stood to clear the table, but Katsuki stopped you with a firm hand on your wrist. “I got it,” he grumbled, already starting to collect the dishes.

You tilted your head at him, a smile playing at your lips. “You’re spoiling me today, Katsuki.”

“Tch. Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though there was a teasing glint in his eye. “Just thought I’d do somethin’ nice before I head out and have to deal with all those extras.”

His words made you laugh, and the sound seemed to soften the lines of his face even more. Katsuki wasn’t a man of many words when it came to expressing his feelings, but in moments like these, you didn’t need them. The way he made breakfast, the way he took care of the dishes, and the way he kept checking in on you—it was all Katsuki’s way of showing how much he cared.

When he was done cleaning up, he grabbed his hero jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged it on, his movements fluid and practiced. You walked over to him, your hands naturally finding their place on his chest as you helped him adjust the collar. He looked down at you, eyes soft despite the serious set of his mouth.

“Be careful out there, okay?” you murmured, your fingers lingering on the fabric of his jacket.

Katsuki huffed, but you could hear the affection in his voice. “I’m always careful, idiot. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, slow and lingering, and for a moment, Katsuki’s hand came up to cup your cheek, holding you in place just a little longer. When you pulled away, his red eyes were dark with something you couldn’t quite name, but you could feel the weight of his affection in that look.

“Get some rest today,” he said, his voice low and serious now. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nodded, watching as he stepped back and adjusted his gloves, his usual sharp, determined expression settling back in place. But before he opened the door, he turned back one last time, that softer version of him peeking through once again.

“Love you,” he said, and it was quiet—so quiet you almost missed it. But it was there, and that was enough.

“I love you too, Katsuki,” you whispered, your heart swelling as you watched him leave, already looking forward to the moment when he’d come back and the world would quiet down again, just for the two of you.

The hours passed slowly after Katsuki left. You tried to keep busy, flipping through a book or scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, but your mind kept wandering back to him. It was always like this when he was out on patrol. You trusted him more than anything, knew he was one of the strongest heroes out there, but that didn’t stop the small flutter of worry from creeping in now and then.

It was late in the afternoon when your phone buzzed with a message from him.

"On my way back. Be there in 20. Don’t start dinner without me"

You smiled at the screen, already feeling the familiar warmth in your chest. Katsuki was always direct, even in his texts, but the fact that he let you know he was coming home—that he was thinking of you—made your heart skip a beat.

When he finally walked through the door, there was none of the usual tension from his long day. He dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his boots, heading straight for you without a word. You barely had time to set down the book you’d been reading before his arms were around you, pulling you into a tight hug that left no room for anything but the two of you.

“Missed you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice quiet but full of that raw, unspoken affection you had come to know so well.

“I missed you too,” you replied, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned into him, letting the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek wash away the last traces of the day.

And just like that, the world outside faded away, leaving only the quiet warmth of Katsuki’s presence and the simple, steady rhythm of your life together.

Gimmie soft pro bakugo ..I guarantee this man would treat you with respect u deserve

[rafecameronssl4t]

Please and au where forced marriage rafe gets jealous over the reader when a guy his age flirts with her at a ball or an event 🙏🙏

Little miss perfect || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Got a bit carried away with this one but it was funnn thank you for the request :)

Warnings: angst galore is all i gotta say

Word count: 2,470

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

Divider by @h-aewo

Your hand reached out instinctively, resting gently on his bouncing knee, hoping to calm the restless energy radiating off him. Rafe’s eyes flicked over to you briefly before he turned his gaze back out the car window, the tension in the air palpable. “I really wish you’d have told me about this party sooner,” he muttered, the frustration clear in his voice.

His words came out sharper than you expected, cutting through the silence that had settled between you. “Instead of springing it on me an hour before it starts.” A scoff escaped your lips as you began to defend yourself. “It slipped my mind—” “Oh, really? It slipped your mind?” Rafe’s voice dripped with sarcasm, his eyes narrowing as he shot you a condescending look. You felt a wave of irritation rise, matching his intensity.

Your gaze shifted to the driver, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror, and with a sigh, you reached for the button to raise the privacy barrier. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as the barrier slid into place, separating you from the driver. “It’s just a party.”

His head snaps back towards you, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s never just a party with you,” he mutters, his words dripping with resentment. You furrow your brows, confusion and anger flaring as you stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap, your voice sharpening with the tension between you.

Rafe purses his lips, eyes narrowing as if debating how far he wants to push this. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat thudding in your ears. “It means,” he finally says, his voice low and edged with frustration, “that nothing is ever simple when it comes to you and your family. Every event, every party, 'it’s always a show—a performance to keep up appearances, to impress everyone with how perfect everything is.”

You stiffen at his words, your grip tightening on your lap as the sting of his accusations digs deep. “That’s not fair, Rafe,” you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “You know how my family is. This is what they expect.” He leans closer, his gaze locking onto yours with a piercing intensity.

“And you just go along with it, dragging me into their mess. I’m always the one left dealing with the fallout when things don’t go according to plan—when your mother’s not satisfied or when your father makes some backhanded comment about how I should be more like William or Edward.”

“That’s not true,” you insist, your voice firmer now. “I don’t ask for these things. I don’t want to be put on display any more than you do.” “Then why the fuck does it keep happening?” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to argue.

“You think I don’t notice how you still try to please them? How you let them pull the strings, even when it makes us both miserable?” A flicker of doubt crosses your mind, but you push it aside, shaking your head. “They’re my family, Rafe. It’s not that simple. You know that.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms as that bitter smile fades into something colder. “But I’m tired of playing this game. Tired of being a pawn in their world, in your world.” His words hang in the air, heavy and final, leaving you to grapple with the uncomfortable truth between you.

~

The car pulls up to the grand estate where the party is being held. The opulence of the surroundings doesn’t faze you—after all, you grew up in places just like this—but tonight, it feels more like a prison than ever before. The driver steps out, opening the door for you.

You glance at Rafe, his expression now guarded, the bitterness from your argument still simmering beneath the surface. Without a word, you both step out of the car, the cool evening air brushing against your skin as you take in the sight before you. The estate is alive with activity, guests arriving in elegant attire, laughter and conversation already filling the night.

It’s all so familiar, so routine, yet tonight it feels like a burden you’re forced to carry. Rafe adjusts his tie, his movements stiff, before offering you his arm. It’s a formality—something expected of the perfect couple you’re supposed to be. You hesitate for a fraction of a second before slipping your arm through his, the fabric of his suit jacket smooth under your fingertips.

Inside, the grand foyer opens up to reveal a sea of faces, all turned towards you with polite smiles and approving nods. You recognize many of them—family friends, business associates, people who have known you since you were a child. You’ve mastered the art of small talk, of charming smiles and witty remarks, but tonight it all feels hollow.

~

As the evening wore on, you and Rafe went your separate ways. It was as if an unspoken truce had been called; a mutual understanding that distance was preferable, at least for now. Rafe, much to his dismay, was intercepted by your two older brothers, William and Edward.

They were the picture of effortless charm, their laughter and easy smiles masking the razor-sharp edges of their true selves. They clapped Rafe on the back, offering him a drink, and he had little choice but to oblige, though he felt the weight of their scrutiny with every sip of whisky he took.

The conversation flowed easily—discussions of business, shared acquaintances, and subtle digs that only someone in the family would catch. The three of them stood as a formidable trio, their presence commanding attention from those around them, yet Rafe felt a gnawing discomfort.

Across the room, Rafe watched you, your every step calculated yet graceful. The elite socialite you had been raised to be was on full display, your smile radiant as you captured the attention of everyone you passed. Men and women alike found themselves drawn to you, eager to exchange pleasantries, to laugh at your witty remarks, to bask in the glow of your charm.

You were the embodiment of everything your parents had groomed you to be. Rafe, drink in hand, watched you from a distance, his gaze narrowing as he observed the way you held the room’s attention with such effortless ease. It was both mesmerising and maddening.

Your brothers’ voices became a dull hum in the background as Rafe's focus shifted entirely to you. You were laughing now, a light, melodic sound that reached his ears even across the crowded room. The source of your amusement was a man standing far too close, leaning in to whisper something in your ear.

Rafe felt a sharp pang of irritation as he watched you tilt your head slightly, allowing the man into your personal space, your smile bright and unguarded. The proximity between the two of you sent a surge of jealousy through him, a bitter taste mixing with the whisky on his tongue. “Rafe?” William’s voice cut through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Hm?” Rafe blinked, momentarily disoriented. “I was saying,” William continued, an amused glint in his eyes, “that you seem a bit distracted. Something on your mind?” Rafe forced a tight smile, taking another sip of his drink to buy himself a moment. “Just taking it all in,” he replied, his tone light, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. Edward raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with William.

“Don’t let it get to you, Cameron,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “This is just the way things are in our world. You’ll get used to it. Especially since you’re married to my sister and part of the family.” Rafe’s grip tightened around his glass, his eyes flicking back to you. The man had said something else, and you were laughing again.

He could feel the heat rising in his chest, a mix of anger and something darker, something that had been festering since the day he’d agreed to marry into your family. “Excuse me,” Rafe muttered abruptly, handing his empty glass to a passing server. Without waiting for a response from your brothers, he began making his way across the room, his eyes locked on you and the man who had somehow earned your attention.

As he approached, he noticed how your posture changed—how you straightened slightly as if sensing his presence before you even saw him. The man, oblivious, continued to speak, but your laughter had stopped, your smile faltering as you glanced over your shoulder to find Rafe closing in.

“Rafe,” you greeted him, your voice pleasant but with a hint of apprehension. “I was just—” “Enjoying yourself?” he finished for you, his tone betraying the irritation he felt. His eyes flicked to the man beside you, who now seemed to realise that he was dangerously close to crossing a line.

You could feel the tension radiating off Rafe, and for a moment, the mask you wore so effortlessly began to slip. “We were just talking,” you said, your voice softer, trying to defuse the situation. Rafe didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he simply held the man’s gaze, the unspoken message clear. His lips were pressed into a thin, unamused line.

After a beat too long, the man cleared his throat awkwardly, offering a quick smile before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd. The moment he was gone, Rafe turned his attention fully to you, his eyes searching yours for something you weren’t sure you could give him. “You really know how to work a room,” he said, his voice low, almost accusatory.

You frowned, the frustration you had been trying to suppress bubbling back to the surface. “That’s what you’re upset about?” you asked, your voice edged with irritation. “That I’m doing exactly what’s expected of me?” Rafe’s jaw tightened as he stepped closer, his voice low and tight. “Expected by who?” His question was pointed, his proximity forcing your chests to brush against each other, the closeness amplifying the tension.

You turned your gaze away, struggling to maintain your composure. “Your parents?” Rafe continued, his voice carrying an undercurrent of bitterness. “Or you?” The question hung in the air, laden with implications neither of you were fully prepared to confront. Before you could say anything more, a voice called out your name, pulling your attention away. Another guest, eager to engage you in conversation.

Rafe took a step back, giving you space to go back to your role, but his gaze lingered on you, the unspoken words between you leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “Go on,” he murmured, his tone resigned. “Do what you have to do.”

With one last glance at him, you turned and walked away, slipping back into the crowd, into the persona that was expected of you. And Rafe watched, the weight of your earlier argument pressing down on him as he wondered how much longer you could both keep up this charade.

~

As you engaged in conversation with one of the Carmichaels, you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you found Edward's face set in a serious expression. “I think you should go to the foyer,” he said in a low voice, his tone laced with urgency. Confused but concerned, you excused yourself from the conversation, and Edward guided you through the crowd, his presence a silent support.

When you arrived in the grand foyer, your eyes widened in shock. Your mother stood by the railing, her stance rigid and her face a mask of fury. As she turned to face you, the anger in her eyes was unmistakable. The sight made your stomach drop. “What’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly as you approached her.

Without waiting for a reply, you followed her gaze over the railing. Below, Rafe was swaying slightly, a glass of whisky in hand, his eyes unfocused. “Ah! There she is, little miss perfect!” Rafe slurred, his voice carrying up to where you stood. He took another swig of whisky, his bleary eyes locked onto you. The mixture of embarrassment and anger made your cheeks flush red, and you felt a sting behind your eyes as a few onlookers turned to see what was happening.

Your mother’s disdainful scoff cut through the mounting tension. “Is he a grown man or a teenage boy? Keep your husband in line. This is an embarrassment!” she spat before turning on her heel and walking away, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. You felt a surge of anger and humiliation as you looked back down at Rafe in his disheveled state.

You made your way down the grand staircase, your heels clicking aggressively on the marble floor as you blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and distress. “Are you out of your mind, Rafe? Are you seriously trying to embarrass me—” You reached out to grip his forearm, but he roughly shoved your hand away.

“Oh, I’m embarrassing you?” Rafe retorted, his tone dripping with sarcastic bitterness. “Yes!” you fired back, your voice rising as the intensity of the moment escalated. The two of you stared at each other, the space between you charged with mutual frustration. Your chests heaved with heavy breaths, the argument pushing the boundaries of your composure.

“We’re leaving,” you declared firmly, brushing past him as the doors swung open. The brisk, cold air hit your bare shoulders, making you shiver as you hugged yourself against the chill. As you stood by the curb, waiting for your car to arrive, you felt a heavy weight draped over your shoulders.

Turning, you saw Rafe standing there, his jacket missing and his hands tucked into his slacks. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, brushing the jacket off your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. When the valet finally arrived with the car, you quickly climbed in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with a decisive click.

Rafe’s hand grasped the handle as he tried to open the door, his expression a mixture of surprise and frustration. The driver, sensing the tension, hesitated. “Miss?” he asked with a note of uncertainty, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “Drive,” you said coldly, not even bothering to look at Rafe. “He can find his own way home.”

You leaned back in the seat, trying to steady your breathing as the car pulled away, leaving Rafe standing alone on the cold, gravel driveway.

[littlelamy]

secret relationship: drew starkey x actress!reader

you and drew had been dating for a few months, ever since the press tour for your movie, a rom-com, one bed trope. it was praised for reigniting the magic of 2000s romantic comedies, and while audiences fell in love with your on-screen chemistry, something else bloomed off-screen.

late nights on set led to dinner dates, and those turned into hours spent together, where you realized this wasn’t just a fling. drew wasn’t like anyone you had been with before, he had this balance of sweetness and intensity that made your head spin. he was gentle, attentive, but still had that edge, a possessive spark that made your pulse race. it was something mature, sexy, and new, a relationship you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

for the last few months, you’d both agreed to keep it private. you weren’t ready to give the world access to something so special. and while there had been whispers in tabloids, rumors here and there of how close you two were getting, blind items about your late-night parties, nothing had been confirmed. it was fun, in a way, keeping it just between the two of you.

but tonight, things felt different.

as you stepped into the crowded after-party, drew’s hand pressed possessively against your lower back, close to your ass. his touch was warm, firm, and grounding in the chaos of celebrity-filled rooms and clinking glasses. you felt his breath on your neck as he leaned down, voice low enough to be just for you.

“you think they [paparazzi] saw us come in?” his fingers curled slightly, pulling you closer. “i didn’t see anyone, but…i caught a couple flashes.”

you tried to keep your expression relaxed, a soft smile playing on your lips as you glanced up at him. his jaw was clenched just slightly, a subtle giveaway that he was more nervous than he let on.

“i didn’t see anything, baby,” you murmured, trying to ease his tension, your fingers tracing small circles over the back of his hand. “let’s just relax, okay?”

you guided him through the crowd, weaving between other actors and industry people. pulling him into your usual spot—an intimate corner tucked away from the main party, but still with a good view of the room. drew’s hand stayed on you, never breaking contact, a subtle reminder of how protective he was.

finally, you reached the familiar space. drew leaned back against the wall, pulling you into his chest. you looked up at him, your bodies so close that you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. there was something about the way his eyes looked tonight, darker, more intense. it sent a thrill through you.

“come on, baby,” you whispered, fingers brushing against his jaw. “let’s dance.”

without waiting for a reply, you moved against him, your hips pressing into his in a slow, teasing rhythm. drew’s breath hitched, his hands instinctively gripping your waist tighter. his eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of desire and amusement.

“you’re trouble, you know that?” he muttered, voice rough, as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear.

“only for you,” you teased, enjoying the way his body responded to yours. there was something exhilarating about being so public, yet so secret, as if the world around you didn’t exist for those few moments.

drew’s fingers trailed up your sides, slipping under the hem of your dress, grazing the bare skin of your back. you shivered under his touch, leaning into him even more. “you know we can’t keep this quiet forever, right?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your earlobe, sending a spark of heat through you.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, your heart racing at the idea. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell people, hell, you wanted to scream it from the rooftops some days, but the idea of losing this intimate, private world you had created scared you.

“i know,” you said softly, your forehead resting against his. “but not yet. i like having you to myself.”

drew smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “you’ve got me, baby. no matter what.”

before you could respond, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye, flashes. your heart skipped a beat as you realized there were paparazzi at the edge of the room, cameras ready, zooming in on every move you made. drew noticed too, his grip tightening slightly on your waist.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath. his body tensed, and you could tell he was debating whether to pull away or hold you closer.

you grinned up at him, a daring look in your eyes. “let them watch.”

with that, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss. it wasn’t rushed or hidden, it was bold, claiming your space, claiming him. drew responded immediately, his hand cupping the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, completely forgetting about the cameras for a moment.

when you finally pulled away, your cheeks flushed, both from the kiss and the thrill of being caught, drew just looked at you with a mix of admiration and amusement.

“you’re really not worried, huh?” he asked, shaking his head slightly, a chuckle escaping his lips.

you shrugged, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him. “nope. they were going to find out eventually.”

drew laughed softly, pulling you in for another quick kiss, his lips lingering on yours just a little longer this time. “guess the secret’s out,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

as you stepped back, hand in hand, you felt the weight of the cameras on you, but it didn’t matter anymore. drew was yours, and now the world knew it too.

[51voices]

Home is Where I'm Enough

Poll winner: Praise Kink (Kinkvember Debut Fic)

IVE Jang Wonyoung x Male reader

The apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of keys and the soft hum of Y/N’s computer. He sat hunched over his desk, the screen’s gentle glow casting an ethereal light across his face as he polished the final touches of his latest graphic design project. He’d been in the zone for hours, the kind of intense flow only a passionate creator knows, dreading any interruption. But as the night grew late, fatigue crept in like an unwelcome guest, blurring the vibrant colors and shapes on his screen and drawing him into a hazy exhaustion.

Just as he stretched back in his chair, letting his arms rise above his head to shake off the dull ache in his shoulders, the front door creaked open. Though faint, the sound pulled his attention immediately, stirring a gentle flutter in his chest. He knew who it was: Wonyoung.

She stepped inside, her silhouette soft against the dim hallway light. Her usual radiance had dimmed, replaced by a look of deep exhaustion. Strands of hair framed her face, loosely tousled, hinting at the long hours she’d endured. Dressed in her favorite oversized sweater, slipping off one shoulder, and paired with comfy shorts, her cozy ensemble contrasted starkly with the glitz of her public persona. Tonight, she looked as if the weight of the world had finally settled on her delicate frame.

Her gaze drifted across the room, her steps heavy as she gravitated toward him, perhaps unconsciously drawn by the promise of comfort. When their eyes met, she offered a small, tired smile—a gesture that seemed automatic, though the usual warmth was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted in a warm, low voice, breaking the quiet of the apartment with gentle concern. “Long day?”

Wonyoung let out a soft, tired breath, her smile persisting but not quite reaching her eyes. “Yeah… you wouldn’t believe how exhausting today was. Promotions, photoshoots, fan meetings… I don’t even know how I’m still standing.” Her words, though calm, carried an unmistakable weight, each syllable laced with unspoken exhaustion.

He rose from his desk, the scrape of the chair against the floor seeming louder in the stillness, closing the distance between them. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, his embrace both protective and tender, inviting her to let go of whatever she’d been carrying. She melted against him, her body softening as she leaned fully into his warmth, the tension in her shoulders easing as if hoping to dissolve into him.

“You’ve been working so hard, princess. You deserve to rest,” he murmured, gliding a hand over her back in soothing circles, tracing gentle patterns over the soft fabric of her sweater. Each stroke was meant to ease her, to remind her that she didn’t need to be strong right now.

Wonyoung sighed, resting her head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat become an anchor, grounding her. “I don’t even know if I can relax,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, carrying an edge of vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show. “Everyone always asks me for things, but no one ever asks me what I need. I feel like I’m always giving, and no one’s there to just… take care of me.”

Her words tugged at his heart, and he tightened his embrace, listening fully, letting her be exactly who she was. Tonight, she wasn’t Wonyoung the idol; she was just his girlfriend, stripped of the weight of expectations.

Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, he murmured, “Tonight, I’m here to take care of you. You don’t need to worry about anything. How about we keep it quiet? I could make some dinner—whatever you’d like?”

She smiled softly but shook her head. “No, thank you… I’m not really hungry. Just too tired to eat, I think.”

He nodded, adjusting his suggestion. “Maybe a massage? Help you relax and ease those tired muscles?”

Wonyoung considered it, then sighed, her gaze drifting. “That sounds nice, but I don’t think I can even sit still long enough. I’d probably fall asleep halfway through.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her shoulder in a light caress. “Fair enough. How about a movie, then? We could just put something on, snuggle up on the couch, and you can zone out as much as you need?”

A flicker of warmth crossed her face at the thought, but she shook her head again. “That sounds nice too, but I don’t think I’d even be able to focus. My mind’s just… elsewhere.”

He paused, sensing that none of his suggestions had quite hit the mark. Sliding a gentle hand to her cheek, he met her gaze, his voice tender. “Then tell me, Wonyoung. Whatever you need, just say it. I’m here.”

The world around them seemed to hold its breath, caught in the tender pause that enveloped the pair. Wonyoung, usually so composed and commanding, now appeared as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, her usual confidence momentarily abandoned. It was in this rare instance of uncertainty that she found the courage to voice her deepest desire.

"Oppa ," she began, her voice a whisper of its usual strength, carrying a hesitance that was seldom heard. "Can we just… be together? Just us."

His response was immediate and heartfelt. A gentle smile graced his lips, his heart warmed by the sincerity of her request. "Of course, Wony. We can just spend time together, no pressure, no work, just us."

The vulnerability in her eyes was palpable, yet it was accompanied by a spark of mischief that hinted at an unexpressed longing. As she stepped closer, her fingers traced an unsteady path along his arm, her touch betraying her nervousness. Oblivious to the full extent of her yearning, he leaned in to bestow a tender kiss upon her forehead, his words a soothing balm to her unspoken needs.

"Just us, no distractions, okay?" he affirmed, his voice a comforting promise.

Wonyoung's fingers anxiously toyed with the hem of his shirt, her courage wavering for but a moment before she mustered the resolve to voice the true nature of her request. With a shy smile that barely contained her anticipation, she looked up at him, her words laced with a boldness that belied her gentle demeanor.

"Oppaa... I-I meant... can we... have... sexy time?"

The surprise that registered on his face was genuine, his mind struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in the conversation. He had been prepared to offer her a sanctuary of relaxation and companionship, but this... this was an invitation to a different kind of connection, one that was both intimate and thrilling.

As the initial shock subsided, his gaze softened, and he saw her in an entirely new light. The playful glint in her eyes, the delicate blush that graced her cheeks—it all painted a picture of Wonyoung that was both endearing and alluring. She stood before him, her hands fidgeting with a mixture of nervousness and desire, her lips parted in quiet anticipation of his response.

Understanding dawned on him, and with it came a smile that reflected his deep affection for her. "Ah, Wony," he said with a gentle chuckle, his fingers brushing away a stray lock of her hair. "You want us to... I see, of course baby"

Her affirmation was shy but resolute, her voice barely above a whisper as she laid bare her innermost wishes. "I... I've been really stressed, and I just... I just want you. Just us."

A deep warmth rose within him as he gazed at the woman in his arms, a warmth that radiated through every fiber of his being. She was here with him, stripped of the expectations and perfection the world demanded of her, showing him the truest parts of herself. Her request, so simple yet so vulnerable, spoke volumes about the bond they shared, and he felt his heart swell with love and admiration. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled her closer, his hands finding their place around her waist, fingers pressing into her softly but with purpose. He tilted his head to capture her lips in a kiss that promised everything she might need, murmuring against her mouth, "Whatever you want, just tell me."

With that, the world around them dissolved into a soft blur, distant and forgotten, as Wonyoung melted into his arms. The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow, the light spilling over their entwined bodies and casting shadows that highlighted her delicate curves. He traced his fingers slowly along her back, feeling the subtle tremors beneath her skin, the way her body softened by degrees, her tension easing under his touch. Each stroke coaxed a little more trust from her, even as she wrestled with the restraint that held her in check, a habit formed over years of needing to be perfectly in control.

As his hands began to unfasten the layers of her clothing with gentle care, he could feel her vulnerability like an unspoken word between them. To the world, she was grace personified, a vision of poise and elegance, an idol untouchable in her perfection. Yet, here and now, she was a woman grappling with the desire to shed the weight of that polished image, to surrender the mantle of perfection she wore so effortlessly in the public eye. His fingers moved with the gentleness of someone who understood her inner struggle, his touch a balm, offering her the quiet assurance she needed to let down her guard.

He sensed the battle playing out within her, an invisible tug-of-war between the person she had to be and the one she longed to become in this private space. His lips brushed over her neck, his voice low and soothing. "Wony, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet," he murmured, pressing soft kisses along her jawline, "but you’re perfect in all the ways that matter. You bring so much beauty and strength into my life."

A shuddered breath escaped her lips as his words settled over her, each one unraveling a bit more of her control. Her hands tightened in the bedsheets, twisting the fabric as she balanced on the razor-thin line between control and surrender. His hands traced over her sides, strong and steady, each movement slow and deliberate, designed to comfort and ignite. "Let go for me, baby, it's okay," he coaxed, his voice a deep, resonant sound that seemed to settle right at the core of her, calling to her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

The endearment lingered in the air, a plea and a promise wrapped into one, coaxing her closer to that edge. Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as she fought the rising urge to surrender completely, to release everything she held back. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words came out as a fragile whisper, the vulnerability in her voice breaking through. "I don’t… I don’t know if I can," she admitted, her voice quivering, her brows furrowed in a fleeting expression of frustration and fear, the tension of her resistance etched across her face.

His response was instant and tender. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a gesture of unwavering support that steadied her. "You can, Wony," he assured her, his gaze holding hers, brimming with sincerity. "I see how much you keep it together out there, and that makes me appreciate even more the way you open up with me. It’s such a privilege to be the one who gets to see this side of you." His words were a gentle nudge, affirming his commitment not just to her pleasure but to her peace, his hands holding her as if promising to anchor her.

Trust shone in her eyes as she took a deep, steadying breath, his words filling her with a sense of security that was as powerful as it was freeing. Slowly, she let herself relax, allowing him to guide her, his hands continuing their slow, purposeful journey across her skin, each caress a reminder of his deep affection. The pleasure within her built steadily, a growing ache, a tantalizing invitation that beckoned her toward release. Yet, even as she teetered on that edge, the remnants of her control clung to her, a practiced restraint born of habit, a habit he was patiently helping her unravel, piece by piece.

His fingertips traced her skin with a deliberate gentleness, painting a path that left her body flushed, every inch hypersensitive to his touch. The way he moved over her was worshipful, reverent, each stroke of his hand along her curves as if he were discovering her for the first time. She twitched beneath him, her back arching to meet his touch, her breaths shallow and filled with anticipation. Every caress was a testament to how he saw her—not just an idol, but a masterpiece, a person to be cherished in all her vulnerability and strength.

His mouth moved down to lavish her jawline with tender, lingering kisses. He traveled along the column of her throat, the warmth of his breath igniting her senses and sending cascades of goosebumps across her skin. With her head tilted back, she exposed her neck, an unspoken surrender in the tilt of her head, a silent invitation for him to continue. The softness of his mouth, the slow, careful rhythm, filled her with a thrill of arousal she could barely contain, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him, wanting more yet barely able to voice it.

Their lips met then, a slow, searching kiss that unfolded with a blend of tenderness and raw emotion. His mouth moved against hers with a gentle ardor, savoring each moment, each connection, and her fingers tangled in his hair as she drew him closer, letting herself melt into the warmth of his embrace. The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the two of them suspended in a quiet dance, a sacred exchange of love and vulnerability that allowed her to shed every mask she wore. Here, wrapped in his affection, she found the courage to set down the armor she held so tightly, to accept the freedom he offered.

His mouth trailed lower, each kiss slower, more deliberate, as he left a line of warmth down her body, his fingers pressing gently into her hips to steady her. The closer he came to her core, the more intense her anticipation grew, her breath catching as he settled between her thighs. She felt the tension building inside her, excitement and vulnerability intertwining in equal measure. But as his lips neared her center, a flicker of hesitation stirred within her, a whisper of insecurity breaking through the haze of arousal.

She tensed slightly, her mind rushing to the imperfections she imagined, the things she couldn’t control. In front of him, she felt bare, unfiltered, not the polished, pristine version she presented to the world. Right now, she wasn’t perfect, wasn’t flawless, wasn’t prepared. The thought made her hesitate, and she tried to subtly shift away, her hand moving instinctively to shield herself. “It's not…I’m not—” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush.

But he paused, sensing the change in her, his gaze lifting to meet hers with a gentleness that held her in place. He brushed a comforting hand over her thigh, the touch steady and reassuring, his voice low and soft. "Hey… don’t worry. Right here, you’re exactly as you should be. You don’t need to be anything but yourself with me." He placed a tender kiss on her inner thigh, his words imbued with an acceptance that quieted her worries, the unconditional affection in his gaze anchoring her.

With a breath, she nodded, the tension easing as she allowed herself to relax, feeling the weight of her expectations melt in his presence. His hands settled on her thighs, grounding her, as he placed a soft, reverent kiss at her center, his lips warm and gentle, easing her slowly back into the moment. As his tongue began to trace delicate, slow circles, she felt herself letting go, her hesitations fading beneath the steady rhythm of his movements.

He continued with a tenderness that felt like a vow, his mouth exploring her as though reminding her that she was already perfect to him. Each touch, each gentle press of his mouth, was a wordless reassurance, a reminder that she could be vulnerable here, could let herself be imperfect without fear. His fingers stroked over her skin, guiding her back to herself, and the pleasure started to overtake the remnants of her self-doubt.

Finally, her body began to respond instinctively, hips pressing forward as her breath grew shallower, soft sounds spilling from her lips as she surrendered to the sensation. His mouth continued its worshipful rhythm, bringing her closer and closer to the edge until she could no longer think of anything but the waves of pleasure that built within her, each one stronger than the last. Her hand found its way into his hair, gripping softly as her control slipped, her voice a soft, pleading whisper in the quiet.

In this sacred space, Wonyoung found the courage to relinquish her hold on perfection, to embrace the imperfect beauty of being truly seen and wholeheartedly loved. His unwavering presence and the sanctuary of his affection were the keys that unlocked the gate to her unbridled self. Here, in the sanctity of their bond, Wonyoung was not just an idol, but a woman fully immersed in the depths of love and the freedom it brings.

He paused and replaced his mouth with his fingers. Her warm, moist folds pulsing around his digits, slowly he leaned towards her. The voice that caressed Wonyoung's ears was a balm to her soul, a soft, soothing timbre filled with quiet strength. "It's okay, Wony. You don't have to try to be perfect. I love you just as you are, you’re perfect to me." The words, imbued with unconditional acceptance, were a gentle command that resonated deep within her core.

Wonyoung, the idol worshiped by millions for her flawless poise and ethereal beauty, found herself gasping as the first wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her fingers, once graceful and composed, now gripped the sheets with an urgency that betrayed her facade. The pleasure was a sudden heat, a surge of sensation that ignited her senses and sent ripples of ecstasy coursing through her body. Each pulsating surge overwhelmed her with a delicious thrill, her body instinctively arching towards the source of her bliss, yet her moans remained soft and restrained—a delicate symphony of need barely rising above a whisper.

The world outside ceased to exist. The contrast between the poised idol she presented to the world and the vulnerable girl who yearned to unravel in his arms was stark and dissonant. The weight of expectation, a constant pressure to maintain the image of perfection, loomed over her. Yet, in the sanctity of their embrace, a different desire flickered to life—a longing for the freedom to embrace her innermost yearnings without fear or restraint.

The pleasure surged once more, its potency wrapping around her like a tantalizing embrace. Wonyoung's heart raced, her breath hitching in her throat as she inhaled sharply. The waves of sensation enveloped her, swallowing her whole while her thoughts swirled chaotically, tinged with a subtle desperation. Would he understand the storm of emotions raging within her? Would he cherish both the idol and the girl beneath the surface?

With every pulse of pleasure, she teetered on the edge of release, a dizzying dance between her public persona and her private self. The fear of disappointment clawed at her, but his gentle fingers spoke a language of love that was both soothing and comforting, coaxing her closer to the precipice of surrender. As she hovered on the brink, her body taut as a bowstring, his lips found her ear, and he whispered words of devotion.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect. Let go, my love. Cum for me." The sensual cadence of his words wrapped around her, an undeniable invitation, and she felt the last of her walls tremble, cracking under the weight of his praise. Her body responded instinctively, arching into his touch as he coaxed her closer to the edge. She could feel it building, a molten tension winding tighter with each pulse of pleasure that surged through her, threatening to unmoor her entirely.

Then, with a choked cry, her resolve shattered. The pleasure that swept through her was intense, potent enough to make her gasp, her core clenching rhythmically around his fingers as ecstasy surged, each wave cresting and crashing through her. She trembled, her breaths coming in rapid bursts as she teetered in that blissful space. But even as the release overtook her, rippling outward with undeniable force, there was still a sliver of herself she held back, a trace of resistance lingering at her core, keeping her from fully dissolving into pleasure. It was as if her body had surrendered, yet her heart still lingered, guarded, hovering just beyond the reach of complete vulnerability.

Wave after wave of sensation left her body limp and shivering, her skin flushed, her breaths ragged. And yet, even as she lay in his embrace, reveling in the aftershocks of her release, something deep within her remained untouched, still holding on, as though daring her to surrender wholly next time. She felt the intensity of her release—a vivid, powerful testament to how much she wanted to let go, yet how much further she could fall if only she allowed herself.

Tenderly, he gathered her in his arms as she shuddered through the aftershocks. "That’s it, baby. You’re amazing. So responsive, so trusting. I couldn’t be prouder of you." He rained kisses over her face, her neck, his words a soothing salve to her soul. She clung to him, dizzy and disoriented from the maelstrom of emotions, yet cherished beyond measure. In this moment, she wasn't a fantasy or a fetish, but a woman truly seen and adored for all that she was—a duality of strength and vulnerability, perfectly entwined in the arms of love.

"You're doing so well," he whispered, his hands continuing their gentle caress. "You're amazing, Wony." His words, soft as a summer breeze, carried the weight of his admiration and tenderness.

She sighed, her breath still shaky as she came down from the first climax, a testament to the passion they shared. Yet, there was a lingering frustration in her, a shadow of doubt that marred the perfection of the moment. She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I don't know why I can't just fully… let go," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I feel like I'm still holding on…"

He shook his head gently, his fingers deftly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's okay baby," he said softly, his voice full of understanding. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. You've done so much already, I know you trust me, baby, please show it to me." His words, a soothing balm to her troubled heart, seemed to ease the tension from her body.

Her eyes softened at his words, her chest rising and falling with deep, labored breaths. She gave a small nod, her lips curving into a hesitant smile, though there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. He didn’t let go. His hands moved over Wonyoung again, softer this time, each touch deliberate and careful, as though every stroke carried a promise. "Do you have one more for me, princess?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down her spine. "Just trust me, Wony. I'm going to help you let go. You don't have to hold anything back."

Wonyoung's breath caught in her throat as she nodded. The tension in her body, so tightly wound, began to loosen under his careful touch. His hands roamed with purpose and pure, unhurried affection. The way he touched her wasn't just intimate; it was reverent, as if he was worshiping every part of her. His whispered praises filled the air between them like a balm, soothing the parts of her that had felt raw for so long. His lips trailed slowly down her neck, then lower, placing gentle, lingering kisses on her chest. He paused, his mouth grazing her nipple, his warmth sending a shiver through her as he focused on the stiff nub.

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he murmured, his lips returning to her neck. "The way you keep going, even when things get tough, it's amazing to watch."

With each word, Wonyoung felt her defenses begin to crumble, the walls she had built around herself slowly breaking apart, leaving her exposed. Her breath hitched as her body responded, but even as she surrendered, a small, aching hesitation remained, a part of her still clinging to control. She wanted to let go, to feel fully, to be vulnerable, yet something held her back—an invisible tether keeping her from completely surrendering.

"I don't know if I can, I don't know how to…" she whispered, her voice shaking, not from fear, but from the overwhelming vulnerability that swelled inside her. She had always been the strong one, the composed one—the one in control. But here, in his arms, she didn't have to be any of those things. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away a stray tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye.

His eyes, warm and filled with love, never left hers. "Honey, I know how hard you work to be strong every day, and I see how much you carry. But here, with me, you don’t have to keep it all together," he whispered, his voice so soft, "I love every side of you—your strength, yes, but also the parts that need tenderness and care. You’ve been strong for so long; it’s okay to let yourself rest and lean on me. I’m here to hold you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, completely, and I’ll always have your back. Let go, even if just for a moment. You’ve earned it, and I’ll be right here through it all."

Something deep within Wonyoung shifted, a missing piece falling into place in a puzzle she hadn’t even known existed. In that charged, breathless moment, her last defenses dissolved. The barriers she had clung to splintered into dust, leaving her bare and vulnerable, her emotions raw and beautiful. Her body softened under his touch, yielding, pressing close, every line of her molding to him as if they’d been designed to fit together. Her heart—her most precious, guarded part—opened entirely, like a flower surrendering to the kiss of the morning sun. Years of hidden hurt and buried longing spilled forth, leaving her exposed and breathless, every nerve alive with sensation.

Her breaths quickened, shallow and uneven, as he pulled her closer, his touch igniting something deep within her, something that had been waiting, yearning to be released. She let out a soft, needy sound, a whispered “Oh…” as his hand traced her spine, sending a delicious shiver down her back. The heat spread through her, coiling tightly, winding up like a spring. His hands roamed over her skin, each stroke a spark, each caress an invitation to let go. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and another soft moan escaped her, higher, pleading. “Mmm… please…” she breathed, the anticipation winding up within her until she could hardly bear it.

As the pleasure built, her voice trembled, rising with each sensation that took her closer to the edge. “Ah—” she gasped as he found that spot, her entire body arching into him. “Yes, I’m cumming” she whimpered, her moans spilling freely, no longer shy, each sound a testament to the rawness of her surrender, the depth of her need. When release finally claimed her, it crashed over her like a tidal wave, an all-consuming flood that left her gasping, body trembling as she clung to him. She let out a keening cry, her voice breaking into soft, shuddering moans, her fingers curling against him as wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through her, leaving her breathless and dazed.

The pleasure was pure, untainted by guilt or hesitation, a dizzying blend of bliss and vulnerability. She felt herself come undone, a thousand stars scattering behind her closed eyelids, each pulse of pleasure brighter than the last. She gasped, her voice a whisper as her senses dissolved, leaving her floating, utterly open and alive in his arms.

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she lost herself in the moment, in him. His hands never stopped their slow, sensual caress, letting her enjoy every last bit of her release. His lips never stopped their sweet murmurs of praise as he held her, supported her, guided her through the waves of bliss that crashed over her again and again.

When she finally stilled, panting and spent in his arms, Wonyoung felt something she hadn't in years—free. Free to be herself, free to feel, free to love. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, a smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her cries of pleasure. "Thank you for helping me let go."

He just smiled, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You never have to thank me for that, baby," he murmured, his arms tightening around her. "I'm always here to help you, no matter what."

In the stillness of the night, two souls lay intertwined, wrapped in the embrace of intimacy and comfort. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the rhythmic cadence of their breaths, akin to a gentle melody that enveloped them in a cocoon of warmth. Wonyoung felt a profound sense of peace that had eluded her for far too long, nestled snugly against his chest.

He looked down at her, marveling at the sheer beauty of the moment as the golden rays of the setting sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow around them. The tender strokes of his fingers dancing along her back were like a soothing balm, a gentle reminder that she was cherished, easing the weight of her worries and insecurities that often clung to her like a second skin. Each caress felt deliberate, as if he were painting a masterpiece against her skin, and with every touch, she could feel the tension melt away, leaving her breathless and weightless.

Devoid of the pressure and expectations that characterized her public persona, Wonyoung felt free to be simply herself. The world outside faded into a distant murmur, and for once, the gleaming lights and flashing cameras were nothing more than faint memories. In his embrace, she was not the polished idol; she was simply a woman allowing herself to experience vulnerability.

The usual assertiveness of her personality melted into a soft bundle of intimacy. She took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of him, a mix of her favorite cologne and something uniquely his that made her heart flutter. She turned her head slightly, resting her cheek against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat sync with her own. It was a melody of trust, of safety, allowing her to lower the walls she’d so carefully constructed over the years.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, she shared a rare smile, a smile that spoke of the unguarded joy that danced in the depths of her eyes. In that quiet sanctuary of their shared space, Wonyoung finally understood that the pressures of the world, the expectations from fans and industry executives, had no claim over this moment. Here, with him, she was stripped of her titles and achievements. She was just Wony — beautifully flawed, wonderfully imperfect, and so deeply human. In the gentle confines of his arms, she felt liberated, ready to embrace every fragment of herself she had kept hidden away.

“I don't know what I did to be so lucky to have you in my life, Thank you so much,” she murmured softly, her words barely breaking the silence, yet carrying an ocean of emotion.

His heart swelled at her gratitude. “You don’t have to thank me, Wony,” he replied, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

With deliberate slowness, he shifted to tuck a blanket around them, ensuring that the warmth of their connection extended beyond just their bodies. Every gesture was measured, an unspoken promise to hold her carefully, to shield her from the chaos of the outside world. As he enveloped her further into the warmth, she exhaled a soft sigh, feeling the cares of the day slip away like grains of sand through her fingers.

The comforting weight of the blanket, combined with his unwavering presence, created an oasis of tranquility. Wonyoung nestled closer, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of him — a blend of warmth, safety, and love. It was a scent that anchored her, reminding her that here, with him, she could fully let go and simply be.

“Your happiness means everything to me,” he murmured softly, wrapping his arms around Wony. “I love taking care of you; it’s my greatest joy.”

In the quiet sanctuary of their shared space, Wonyoung surrendered to the day's final embrace. The weight of hours spent apart now gave way to the serene pull of sleep, a tide of weariness that beckoned her to its peaceful shores. Yet, as the siren call of rest tempted her consciousness, a single, sacred ritual anchored her to the waking world—a phrase that had blossomed into their own secret lexicon, a testament to a bond that defied the physical realm. "Oppaaa… can I have… tucky?" she whispered, her voice a tender plea in the dimly lit room.

The words hung in the air, a delicate invocation, and his heart responded with a symphony of flutters. It was a request that transcended mere comfort; it was the embodiment of a profound craving for closeness, a need that only their unique connection could satisfy. "Of course, baby," he replied, his voice a soothing balm, wrapped in the warmth of a smile that illuminated the shadows.

With meticulous care, he began to undress, each movement a silent vow to honor the sanctity of her comfort. His actions were a dance of devotion, a series of quiet gestures that spoke volumes of his desire to bridge the gap between their bodies while preserving the delicate fabric of her ease.

As Wonyoung positioned herself atop him, her lithe form a perfect complement to his, their bodies began a silent conversation. Her thighs, soft and supple, cradled his hips, while her arms encircled his neck, drawing him into an embrace that promised refuge. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his awaiting form, her slickness guiding him into the heart of her warmth. A gasp, soft and surrendering, escaped her lips as he filled her, stretching her to the brink of pleasure.

In the close warmth of their embrace, Wonyoung's breasts, soft and tender, pressed against the firm contours of his chest. Each breath they shared caused her hardened nipples to graze his skin, a delicate friction that stoked the flames of their desire. Her core, a molten haven, clenched around his length, a rhythmic pulse that echoed the beating of their hearts."

Their dance was unhurried, a languid exploration of the connection that bound them. It was a communion of souls, a testament to the depth of their understanding. With each undulation of Wonyoung's hips, their bodies found solace.

Lost in the comfort of his arms, Wonyoung's sighs mingled with the quiet of the room, a harmony of contentment. Her cheek, nestled in the crook of his neck, inhaled the familiar scent that clung to his skin—a scent that whispered of safety and belonging. Thoughts dissolved into the ether, replaced by the exquisite sensations that coursed through her. Her fingertips, light as a feather's touch, traced the contours of his back, each stroke deepening their connection.

The pleasure that built within her was a slow simmer, a crescendo that threatened to consume them both. Yet, Wonyoung reveled in the anticipation, drawing out the sweet agony of their union. She clung to the moment, unwilling to relinquish the closeness that enveloped them, a closeness that made the world beyond their embrace seem a distant memory.

"You're so perfect," he murmured into her hair, his words a tender confession. "I love you so much. Just like this. Just us." His voice, laden with emotion, was a testament to the depth of his affection. In the stillness of their shared space, their love was a living entity, a force that rendered them invincible in their vulnerability.

Wonyoung smiled at his words, a small, contented grin that reached her eyes as she nuzzled closer. She gently traced slow, lazy patterns across his skin with her fingertips, feeling the soothing rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch. Each caress brought a fresh wave of calm, a deeper sense of security, and a love that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. She had never felt so cherished, so at peace.

“I love you,” she murmured softly, her voice a delicate whisper filled with gratitude, knowing he understood her heart without needing to say more.

“I love you too, baby, so much,” he replied, his voice tender as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. There was something deeper in his touch—a promise, a vow of unconditional love and support that she could always count on.

As Wonyoung’s body relaxed fully into his, her breathing slowing, he focused on the simple, quiet joy of having her close. The rhythm of her heartbeat matched the serenity of the room, each gentle beat echoing the contentment swelling in his chest. He realized this wasn’t just an intimate moment; it was their sanctuary, a home they had built within each other where love grew and thrived.

“You make me feel safe,” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable, as if confessing a secret.

He smiled, holding her even closer. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he replied softly, his voice thick with emotion. “To be the place where you feel at home.”

Wonyoung’s eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion washed over her. She hummed in content, her voice sleepy but full of warmth as she faded into the quiet, but the love in her tone was unmistakable.

Time seemed to stand still. The world outside—with its chaos and noise—faded into a distant memory, leaving only the peaceful calm that wrapped around Wonyoung and him. In this moment, together, they were safe. Together, they were whole.

[illyrianbitch]

Safe

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel's night is troubled by a nightmare. He finds a soothing remedy in the arms of his mate.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, nightmares, slight mention of gore, death, and torture. fluff, sensual, slow, sleepy sex!!

Word Count: 3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

All that surrounded him was screaming— sharp and jarring sounds that filled the air, echoing against stone walls. Bodies littered the ground, twisted and broken, red and bloodied, faces contorted in agony. If he squinted hard enough, Azriel could force the colors to blur together, could convince himself that the crunching underneath his boots was the sound of crisp, fallen Autumn leaves— not bones. Not the people he’d killed.

Somewhere, a fire roared, consuming everything in its path, turning the world into an inferno of despair. He felt it in his hands, felt a burst of agony and pain. He heard crying somewhere distant, somewhere far enough to where it became white noise— but his own cheeks were wet. He was crying too. His hands were on fire. He was eight again. And nothing had changed.

A face—your face—emerged, eyes wide and red-rimmed, tears streaking down your cheeks as you sobbed uncontrollably. You mouthed something, the words strained and straggled as you attempted to scream. He swore it was his name that your lips let out, that you were begging for help.

Azriel sprang up, his heart pounding as a thin sheen of sweat ran down his body in a cold chill. 

His gaze landed on two things first: the nightstand, where Truth-Teller was carefully, purposefully tucked into the side of the wood, and then to you—his beautiful, sleeping mate.

Azriel's chest tightened, the fear and anguish from the dream slowly dissipating as he focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Still, remnants of his nightmare clung to him like a shroud. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. 

The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of moonlight through the thin white curtains. Azriel took a deep breath, grounding himself in the reality of your presence, the safety of your shared bed. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and careful, as if afraid to wake you. He smiled at your sleeping form, at how he wasn’t uncomfortable with his scarred hands against your skin— not anymore. 

His shadows seemed to be sleeping as well, their dark forms curled around you protectively. All except for one lone tendril which hovered near Azriel, an insomniac companion mirroring his unrest. He let it twist lazily around his hand as he withdrew it from your face. 

You stirred slightly, murmuring something in your sleep, and Azriel felt a wave of relief wash over him. He leaned back against the headboard, still breathing heavily, but the rhythm gradually calmed. He positioned his wings into a comfortable lay behind him. 

Azriel closed his eyes, welcoming thoughts of the first time he’d met you. He reminded himself that you were here, beside him, and wouldn’t be taken away. His mind replayed the memory of your first meeting, of the way his chest tightened when you smiled at him— he had been a goner since that first day. He thought about your first kiss next, how nervous he had been, how you took his hands and pressed your lips to his, how your lips tasted of berry from the pie you both shared. The memories combined with the smell of you, with the warmth of your body next to him, slowly soothed the last remnants of his terror.

“Az?” 

His eyes shot open and he looked over as you lifted yourself up, rubbing your tired eyes—still heavy-lidded and soft. The shadows around you stirred, a few of them joining the lone one that drifted around Azriel's hands.

“My love, did I wake you?” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head slightly, a small smile playing on your lips. “No, not completely.”

Azriel's eyes softened as you shifted closer, moving to rest atop him. He extended his wing to wrap around you protectively, a hand moving to pull you in closer.

Your bare hand came to rest on his chest and he shivered at the touch, at the chill of your skin in contrast to the warmth of his own. He grimaced at the sheen of sweat that still persisted against his skin, but you paid no mind as you extended your palm across his chest.

You gave a small laugh, the sound soft and sleepy. Azriel’s heart fluttered at it and he found himself craving for the sound to be emitted once more— over and over again until he could savor it enough to be satisfied. Not that he ever could be— satisfied, that was. He never had enough when it came to you.

“Sorry,” you murmured, your lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

Azriel smiled lazily at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss tenderly. “You and your ice hands,” he teased gently, brushing his lips against your knuckles. 

You leaned further into him, nuzzling against his chest. “Well, you moved away in your sleep. I was left alone and cold.”

Azriel gave you a small laugh, though it held a trace of lingering unease as your words settled in his chest. Alone and cold. His eyes glazed over slightly, now looking past the moment he was in and into something much darker— momentarily reliving the memory of his nightmare. 

You placed your hand back on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. He blinked once, twice, and then he was back in his bed, arms wrapped around you.

Azriel's fingers traced the contours of your face, his touch light and reverent— sacred almost, as if he were touching a prized treasure, something holy. He moved slowly, committing every detail to memory, ensuring you were real, that you were there before him. He took it all in—the curve of your lips, the softness of your cheeks, the warmth in your eyes. Mate, his shadows whispered into his ears, Your mate. Mate, mate, mate. 

Safe.

His hand cupped your cheek and the golden thread within him sang—- a sweet, beautiful, haunting melody that pushed away the tension building in his shoulders. 

“I’m here,” you said softly, your own hand rising to cover his, grounding him in your touch. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Azriel nodded, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. “Good,” he said, his voice steadier now. “Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You stared at one another for a moment, the dimly lit room filled with a comforting silence, something peaceful and safe. Slowly, you moved your hand to his face, your fingers brushing lightly over his cheek. You leaned up, closing the distance between you, and brought him into a kiss.

The kiss was tender and kind, and Azriel felt everything about love within it— comfort, trust, and a promise. He pulled you in closer, his hand wrapping around you, while the other held your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You were his. And he was yours in return. 

Azriel deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, his tongue gently exploring your mouth. A soft whimper escaped you, the sound sending a wave of pleasure through his body, tightening at the core of his stomach. He pulled back for a moment, his eyes searching yours, dark with desire and affection. You only pulled him back in, your body pressing against his, a needy grind that ignited a fire within him, an insatiable need to be even closer to you, to feel you in a manner that was only granted to him. 

With a swift, fluid movement, he rolled you both so you were on your back and he was hovering above you. One hand braced himself on the bed, while the other roamed over your hips and your body, feeling the curves beneath the thin fabric of your nightdress. His scarred hands brushed over the silk, the material still gliding against the roughness of his skin.

He pulled his lips from yours, slowly trailing down your neck, peppering burning kisses against your skin. His hand moved up, sliding under your nightdress, tracing the lines of your body. His touch was gentle, exploring every inch of you as if it were the first time.

You arched into him, hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, a sound that made his heart race even faster. Azriel's hand continued its journey, caressing your thigh, your waist, before finally making it up to your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric.

You let out a sound, a mixture of a breathless gasp and a whimper, and Azriel’s eyes found yours as his fingers grazed over the peak of your hardened nipple. He rolled it between his fingers. 

"Azriel.” 

Your voice trembled with need and something inside Azriel stirred further. This was real, you were real. 

"Yes, my love?" he murmured, his voice husky. His hand continued its slow, torturous movements, thumb brushing over your nipple in a way that made your toes curl. “What is it?”

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. You ran a teasing touch along the base of his wings, caressing the sensitive area with a chilled touch. Azriel shivered above you, lowering himself to press further against you.

"I need you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. His eyes fell to your parted lips and his lips curved into a tender smile.

"I'm here, my love," he said softly. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. His tongue teased yours, the taste of him intoxicating. He pulled apart to whisper, “And you are, too.”

You nodded slowly. “I am.” 

Your words were met with a tug deep in your chest that left you breathless. You bit back a moan at the feeling of that sacred thread growing even tauter, at the feeling of his arousal drowning your senses. 

Azriel pushed the strap of your nightdress down, watching as you moved it further to expose your chest to him. He pulled you into another kiss, just as hungry, just as passionate, before he was kissing down your neck once more— down to your collarbone and right above your breast. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

You gasped, your back arching off the bed, pressing yourself closer to him. "Azriel," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair.

He switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention. His fingers brushed over your hip, your thigh, before finally slipping between your legs. He found you wet and ready. The fabric of your dress bunched awkwardly at your waist, but neither of you cared— too tired to bother with maneuvering it over your head, too lost in the desire that flooded your senses. 

Azriel could have teased you, could have made the anticipation agonizing, could have spread his touches so far and light that you were begging him—like usual. Oh how he loved turning you to putty in his hands, watching as you writhed against him. But not tonight, not as he felt you beneath him, as he smelled your sweet arousal.

He spread you open with his hands, holding your legs apart as he took in your glistening core. His touch was tender, reverent, as he brought a finger through your folds, feeling your warmth and wetness. A low groan escaped him. 

"My mate," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm against your most intimate place. “So beautiful.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows to watch Azriel as he dipped a finger inside you. His eyes locked onto yours as he curled his finger inside you, eliciting another soft moan from your parted lips. You arched your back at the sensation, head falling back slightly. 

Azriel brought his mouth to your clit, his tongue teasing and circling the sensitive bud. You looked down at him, mouth slightly open, eyes heavy with desire, and chest heaving. One of your hands went to grab your breast, fingertips tracing where your nipple still glistened with his saliva. Shadows met your hands, twisting around your breasts in a gentle, teasing attention — flitting just above the sensitive hardened peaks. 

Azriel added another finger inside you, stretching and filling you as he continued to lavish attention on your clit. His fingers and shadows worked in tandem, pleasuring you in ways that sent shivers down your spine. Each touch brought you closer to the edge of ecstasy, a simmering, building feeling of pleasure in your core. 

His free hand moved to grip your thigh, holding you steady as he brought you closer to climax. His eyes never left yours, and the intensity of his gaze made your pulse quicken even more. You could feel his fingers inside you, his tongue on you, and the tug of your beautiful bond deep in your chest. 

You let go completely, surrendering to the sensations that filled your body— with a cry of his name, you shattered. 

He lapped up your essence, savoring every drop of your pleasure. Rising above you, chest heaving, he breathed heavily as he looked down at you, something so beautiful, so real, beneath him.

You reached out to him.  "I'm here," you whispered, your voice filled with love and an overwhelming, dripping need. "Please. I need you."

Azriel nodded slowly, his desire mirrored in his eyes as he maneuvered himself to rid himself of his underwear. He returned to you, his body aligning with yours, skin against skin, a tug at the connection that weaved your souls together. 

He hovered above you, hands tracing the curves of your body, savoring how you felt under his hands— Gods, he’d never tire of feeling you, never be close enough. His light, his salvation, his mate.

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss. 

"Anything for you, my love," Azriel whispered against your lips, his voice thick with longing and devotion. The sound of it made you clench everything below the waist. His fingers trailed down your body, finding their way between your legs once more. He guided himself to your entrance, teasingly brushing against you, and the movement elicited a gasp from your lips.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him closer, hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him into you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed himself past your folds, a low moan escaping his lips as he sank into you. 

"Fuck," he murmured. "So perfect."

Azriel intertwined your fingers and held your hands gently above you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. With every roll of his hips, he whispered mantras of love, devotion, and praise, his voice a soothing, low cadence against your skin. You greedily drank in every word, feeling them flitter through your body like aphrodisiacs. 

The pace was slow, deliberate, almost lazy compared to the usual fervor with which Azriel ravished you. But it was exactly what he needed—soft, sensual, a reminder that you both existed in this moment, here and now.

You tightened your grip on his hands, urging him closer, wanting to merge your souls as intimately as your bodies were intertwined. Azriel kissed every area of exposed skin, thrusting into you as your cunt welcomed him greedily. 

He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional, and your whimpers grew louder as he continued. Azriel traced his nose over your shoulder, whispering your name to make you turn your head— just enough for him to kiss you. 

Mate, mate, mate. 

Safe.

Azriel groaned into your mouth, savoring your taste and how perfectly your body remembered him— how well you took him. 

He was alive and safe, in a bed that he shared with his mate— a mate that was writhing underneath him as he pushed you to another brink of pleasure.

Azriel's forehead rested against yours and he released your hands gently, allowing you to wrap them around his neck— bringing one to glide along his extended wing, eliciting a shudder throughout his body. 

"I love you," you whispered against him, “I’m here.”

Those words were all it took for Azriel to deepen his movements, for his pace to quicken as he leaned into you more, kissing you deeply as he rolled into you.

With a shared cry of pleasure, you both found release together, bodies trembling as Azriel emptied himself inside you. 

After he pulled out, Azriel spent a moment kissing you tenderly, his lips moving across your skin with reverence and affection. You both swayed together in the aftermath, riding the waves of blissful satisfaction as you lazily kissed one another, limbs still entangled like braided rope. 

He gently pulled himself away and made his way to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth and a lazy, adoring smile. Azriel cleaned you up with gentle strokes, his kisses following the path of the cloth as he murmured sweet nothings against your skin. My beautiful mate, my treasure for life. Real, sacred— and all his. Each touch was a whisper of love and care, an intimate ritual that had grown to a routine as the bond deepened between you.

Once he was done, Azriel crawled back into bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, cocooning you with his wing to keep you warm. He didn’t mind those cold fingers of yours, didn’t mind the chills they sent across his body, but tonight he would keep you close, keep you warm. His other hand found yours, placing it gently atop his heart, where you could feel its steady beat, matching yours in perfect rhythm.

Sighing contentedly, Azriel closed his eyes. He let the scent of you fill his nostrils, let the sound of your breathing fill his ears, and soon fell into a blissful, nightmare-free slumber. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

thank u to this anon who suggested i do something like this following my one-shot memories! pls enjoy this lil piece while i work on malice and LCL!! <3

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