AN: This is dedicated to my bestie, Selina (mygirlfelicity on tumblr, go follow her for your Captain Swan or Olicity fix!) because I am stressed and she is stressed and I wrote this during one of my lecture class cause I was literally falling asleep so...

Here bb, have some pointless, mindless, idek, FLUFF to destress! I was half asleep when I wrote this but I hope it makes you smile and you like it anyway.

There's something about his chest.

Cause there's a space right above the middle of it. It's more of a hollow, really. A tiny nook nestled at the base of his throat, smack dab between his collarbones.

With the amount of skin exposed by his shirt, it's constantly in her view. She likes to run her fingers across it, nearly a mandatory practice now after she places a hand above the space where his heart lies (just checking, is all). She doesn't know how but it's warm, always warm, no matter where they are.

She's a little obsessed with it.

So she buries her nose there and breathes him in before placing a light kiss upon it. Then, she unceremoniously grabs the lapels of his jacket and nuzzles her head beneath his chin so that she may burrow her cheek into that lovely gap. It's her perfect refuge… her sweet spot.

Okay. Maybe she's a lot obsessed.

He stumbles when she hauls him impossibly closer to her that he has to wrap his arms around her waist lest he sends them both tumbling down. Not that she really minds.

Immediately, inevitably, and with ease, his hand finds its way to the small of her back, the base of her spine that curves inwards and, she thinks with a smirk, perhaps she's not the only one obsessed with touching the other's sweet spot.

His hand rubs at that spot tenderly before he curls his fingers around the tips of her hair, as he's so fond of doing.

Her smirk widens to a grin.

And perhaps he feels her smile against his skin cause then he's tugging gently at her hair so that he can see her face.

He huffs out a laugh at the sight of the pout on her lips.

"Sorry there, love," he says in a tone that expresses how sorry he isn't at all because it's laced in teasing and amusement. "Have I disturbed you somehow?"

She wants to say yes because she had positioned herself perfectly, head tucked snugly under his chin and cheek pressed to his skin just so, so that if she desired it, she need only tilt her head and she would taste the salt of his skin, imprint her lips upon her favorite patch of his chest so everyone would know –- well, everyone knew so perhaps, remember. So everyone would remember just whom he was with.

But then she looks at him… at the sparkle in the blue of his eyes, the flush on his cheeks and that smile of his, the one that brings out the laugh lines about his mouth and his eyes.

So she says, "No," as she cups his face, her thumbs lightly digging into the grooves that are his dimples.

And then she's kissing him, because the air is cold but he feels so warm and he tastes like home and she just can't help herself –- she must kiss him, how can she not?

"No," she murmurs once more on a sigh as he, in turn, thumbs the dimple in her chin before running his fingers through her hair. She closes her eyes at the pleasure she feels from the motion.

He's far from a disturbance, see.

After all, she thinks, as he presses kisses to her temple, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her cheek…

(when he reaches the corner of her mouth, she inclines her head so that she can chase his mouth, moans when she catches his bottom lip between her own because she likes the taste of his happiness) …well,

there are sweeter spots.