#i tried to picture her a bit younger here
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thepixelmoon · 2 years ago
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Having Lethe brainworms again
(mc from @virtues-end 🩵)
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heegyukeluv · 7 months ago
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your eyes only (lhs) - req
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pairing: heeseung x afab & musical actress!reader
synopsis: You were used to having all eyes on you; after all, as a renowned musical actress, capturing everyone's attention was part of your job. But the moment you noticed a pair of eyes in the audience gazing at you with such passion, you knew things would change.
my's note: first and foremost A✨!!!!! YOUR VISION!!!!!! please i’m so happy you gifted me with the pleasure of developing this super cute and loving story. i really had so much fun writing it, and i hope you like it too!! also during the smut scene i got a bit carried away by these pics and maybe i’ve dedicated too much time talking about heeseung’s arms 😀 not sorry btw
warnings: fluff, small angsty (but with a happy ending!!!), explicit language, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex 💪🏻, fingering, kinda rough sex? (this is the roughest i think i can do, unironically lol). lmk if I missed something!
request: reader is a musical actor/actress who takes many roles in musicals, plays, some movies and so and so forth. heeseung goes to one of the reader's musicals and is enamored by their voice and talent, and of course, their looks. (read the full request here!)
wc: 19k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire
Heeseung rushed his way out of his car, jogging through the people in the middle of his route to get to the theater as soon as he could, already knowing Sunoo was so pissed off with his lateness.
He spotted the blonde haired furiously typing on his phone with a scowl expression, alone, waiting for him.
“Don’t even start with your lame excuses,” Sunoo stopped Heeseung before he said anything when he finally got to the younger’s side, glaring up from his phone and already hurrying his steps towards the theater entrance. 
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung tried his best to sound apologetic, softening his gaze, opting for not making up any justification.
It wasn’t like he purposely got stuck in the traffic at all, however, he definitely was guilty about leaving the house twenty minutes later than he promised, just because he decided to finish up his League game. 
It was Saturday, of course he would choose to spend some screen time doing his favorite hobby. 
“I know you don’t like musicals, or almost anything related, but you kinda gave me your word, so…” 
They both walked side by side, stopping quickly to show their tickets to the worker who let them in after verifying it in the system. 
“I know, I know. And I’m really sorry.”
The lights were already off as the show was about to start, making them struggle a bit to find their seats; close to the edge and not too far from the stage.
“You won’t regret coming, Hee.” Sunoo smiled sweetly, already at ease with his behavior, picking up his phone to take a picture of the glowing set, just waiting for the right moment to start. He wasn’t really pissed with Heeseung, he knew the older one was actually doing him a favor. “I saw some pictures on instagram and it’s so pretty.”
Although Sunoo wasn’t lying about him, he was actually excited with the idea of watching something so different from his natural liking, and the bright, enthusiastic face Sunoo showed made his expectations grow even higher. 
Heeseung diverted his eyes to the theater main floor when the instrumental started sounding through the speakers, indicating the play was about to start, a shiver of excitement running all the way through his spine while he straightened his back on the chair.
The story was being told from the main character’s perspective, as expected. But what really got Heeseung tilting his head to the side and his eyes glistening in interest was the incredible beauty of the actress.
She had expressions on point, as if she was born to be there, happily wandering through the whole stage with bright smiles, looking at the crowd once and a while and acting with pure talent. She shone in between the other actors, drawing attention easily towards her. Of course she had the main character aura that helped it a lot, however, at some point Heeseung was sure that he, himself, had an extra spotlight on her, eyes never leaving her meticulously calculated movements and attractive face.
The way she showed raw emotions from the beginning got Heeseung laughing, worried and relieved – a rollercoaster of emotions he never thought he would go through just by watching a Tangled musical.
He also caught himself wishing for the actress to drift her eyes through the crowd just once more, so she would feel his intense gaze and look at his way, in a very utopic, hopeless, line of thought.
When the said Aurora got the chance to finally sing, Heeseung just let himself completely fall in love, unconsciously sighing as his heart faltered a beat every once. He didn’t expect her to have such a loving, enchanting, singing voice, making his body ache in despair to have more of it.
The final act got him all smiling, clapping his hands with genuine enthusiasm as the actors bowed to the crowd thanking them for watching. When the curtains dramatically closed, Heeseung inclined his head a bit to the center so he could watch you going away, leaving him with a taste for more.
He thought about trying to go to the backstage, especially when he saw a few people lining up apparently to get a photo with the cast, but Sunoo was already walking his way out of the theater and he deduced it had some kind of special ticket to get that.
“Who is Aurora?” Heeseung eagerly asked Sunoo when they stepped out of the theater, walking through the parking lot. He had literal crossed fingers hidden inside his jacket pockets, in hopes of Sunoo knowing about the actress.
Sunoo playfully raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t like musicals, but not to know who Aurora is, is kinda–”
“No, I meant the actress,” Heeseung hurried to correct himself, blaming the fact he was still in awe. “Do you know her name?”
“Oh,” Sunoo replied by taking his phone out of his pocket and opening his instagram, showing the screen to Heeseung. “It’s Y/N. She’s one of the most famous actresses for musicals like that. I love her acts, like all of them,” he replied with a big smile, gesturing with his hands. 
Heeseung quickly got his phone to follow you after getting your username, not even caring about thanking Sunoo as he slid through your cute feed, shamelessly liking some of them. It wasn’t like you would notice him, as you had thousands of followers and a very busy routine, as it looked like.
And oh, you were so, so beautiful.
“So, how do you like it?” Sunoo asked with a small smirk when they stopped by Heeseung’s car, not failing to notice how the older one got really invested, although he wasn’t much sure if the fixation was about the musical itself or you.
“Honestly?” Heeseung locked his phone and opened his car. “I loved it more than I expected,” he answered with a genuine smile, a smile that did nothing to hide his real interest.
“It’s a pity this is the last one,” Sunoo said with a small pout when he entered the car, sitting on the passenger seat.
“W–What do you mean the last one?” Heeseung halted all his movements to fully face Sunoo with a slightly bewildered expression, who offered him confused eyes and a small frown.
“It’s the last Tangled musical they're gonna do,” he explained. “Y’know, they don’t do the same musicals over and over again. Especially with Y/N. She’s constantly casted for new ones,” Sunoo added, watching Heeseung’s face softening in relief before he started to drive. 
“You seem to know a lot about her,” Heeseung said with curiosity, eyeing Sunoo quickly before paying attention back to the road, the street lights passing by working as a beautiful background.
“Yeah, I really love her work.” He said with a dreamy tone, and Heeseung nodded, since now he was kind of loving your work too. “It’s a shame we don’t get to have more from her here in the town.”
“Hm?” Heeseung's head snapped to face Sunoo, and gladly he had stopped at the red light in time. 
“Musicals work almost like a band tour. They go through the whole country, stopping by cities for one or two weeks, it depends on the demand. This one had a three week engagement here!” He said excitedly, Heeseung paying attention to every detail. His heart sank inside his chest with the now acknowledgement of how your job worked, and the fact that he definitely wasn’t going to see you soon. “But college got me stuck, so I didn’t have the time to come and watch it. That’s why today was so special, as I texted you. It was the last one.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” Heeseung said with a tender, genuine smile.
Heeseung’s car stopped by Sunoo’s place, and with a quick goodbye he left, leaving behind a completely silent Heeseung, lost in his own thoughts. How would he feed his newest obsession?
When Heeseung finally got back into his apartment, he cared little about changing his clothes into something more comfortable, sprawling on the couch while stalking your social media for a bit.
He watched your newly posted instagram stories, most of them being reposts of videos and photos from the audience that tagged you into it, saying how proud of you they were, how much they liked and how pretty you looked. 
Heeseung remembered Sunoo taking a picture of the set before the play started, and quickly asked him for it so he could post it on his story as well, using the lame excuse that he wanted to show his followers his most new-found interest.
Of course Sunoo didn’t really bought it, but sent it anyway. 
Heeseung had never felt nervous about posting something on his instagram, especially on his story, a place where pictures and videos only lasted 24 hours. Nevertheless, in the past you weren’t in the equation, you weren’t the main target, you didn’t even existed to him. So he double-checked the small text and if the picture looked good enough to stand out in between the probably hundred others you got tagged into, pressing the “send” button.
“First time watching it. I loved it so much. You really know how to catch people's attention @ y/n ;)”.
As the picture loaded, Heeseung instantly wondered if it was too much, with widened eyes and heart pacing fast, panicking a bit as he paid close attention to how some of his friends liked and replied to it almost immediately, but nothing came from you.
He waited for a few minutes for your possible repost, since you were online just seconds ago, scrolling through his timeline, a chill feeling overgrowing in his chest every time the small red ball of notification painted the top of his phone. Then he let out a defeated sigh as the reality settled in – meeting you was unlikely, and the chances of someone as famous as you noticing an ordinary guy like him seemed impossible.
That night he hopelessly hoped to dream about you and your voice, so he could experience more of your distant, idol-like presence. He was so intrigued about you. Your beautiful features, your perfect acting, your incredible voice, everything extremely fascinating for his poor, weak heart.
Unfortunately Heeseung did not dreamt about you, but he woke up with his phone buzzing under his pillow. 
With eyes squinting, Heeseung tried to understand why he got followed by a bunch of random people on instagram from last night. There were also a lot of texts from Sunoo in caps lock that his mind skipped reading and his everyday notifications that he always ignored. And then his attention was caught with your name.
He expected you to repost as you were doing for the majority of your fans, but you didn’t only reposted. You replied to him, directly.
“Thank you, sweetheart! Hope to see you more, then <3”
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“It’s just a message. She probably sends it to everyone. She seems reachable through her social media.”
Heeseung was trying to convince Sunoo – and himself – that your reply meant nothing but a simple, standard gesture from an artist thanking their fans. After all, he was a grown man who understood how the industry worked, how they encouraged fanservices as a way of attracting more people from the outside and maintaining the ones who already considered themselves as fans. 
Albeit his heart danced a different melody than his mind, doing flips just by remembering your sweet words.
“I don’t think so,” Sunoo retorted with a small grimace as he finished cleaning the corner of the cafeteria’s main counter. “The usual?” He asked Heeseung before getting ready to make his drink.
“Yeah, I’m running late for work,” Heeseung replied, glancing at his phone just to confirm that he probably would be ten minutes late to that morning’s meeting. 
“But I think you should shoot your shot, y’know,” Sunoo said with a grin while mixing all the ingredients. “Slide into her DM’s or something.”
Heeseung couldn’t hold back a small chuckle, leaning his upper body on the counter. “Is that how young people flirt nowadays?” 
Sunoo threw an offended glare at him. “Don’t act like you’re an oldie. You’re literally only 2 years older than me,” Heeseung laughed loudly at his reaction, shaking his head.
“I won’t do any of that, Sunoo,” he said softly and straightened his posture. “I’d rather just follow her work from afar. Me being in the audience and her, on the stage. That’s the closest I can get from her,” he now spoke more firmly, as if he tried to ground Sunoo’s expectative – and his own – down to reality. 
He spent his whole Sunday watching filmed performances from some of your old plays, unable to get enough of your angelic voice, your palpable talent, and of course, your gorgeous, captivating outstanding looks. The knowledge that your job made you be constant for a year or less, and then you were away for months, preparing for the next musical, shattered his hope and made him accept that he would have to wait for you to return.
“Well, you do you. But in my personal opinion, you’re missing a big opportunity,” Sunoo handed Heeseung’s coffee, waiting for the charge and the usual tip.
Once again, Heeseung shook his head, smiling and paying for his drink. “Thank you, have a great day Sunoo.”
“You too, Hee.”
Heeseung wouldn’t admit that easily, but he gathered some of his favorite performances from you in a youtube playlist, so he could listen to it while driving through the city, the way to his work sounding prettier with your beautiful voice echoing in his ears. 
As he parked his car, rushing to his meeting, he didn’t felt the large amount of stress he normally dealt with during Mondays, your melodic singing still fresh on his mind, easing the way he handled things through the day. 
The following weeks passed fast with his daily routine; you, still filling up his head in an addicting mix of your sweet vocals and his eagerness of witnessing you owning the stage again.
Heeseung craved the electrifying rush of his heart racing with wonder after you captivated his soul he once felt when first watched you perform, as if he was in abstinence. 
He monitored your social media for almost two months, hoping to see an announcement of your next musical or anything similar enough to give him a chance to listen and see you live, feeling extra hyped whenever he saw a picture of your practice, or other things related to your upcoming project.
He never got so invested in something or someone the way he was in you, especially after just so little time tasting from the source.
During a random Tuesday, fauxing listening to Jake’s rant about his new love interest and how confused he was feeling, he caught himself traveling through his own head, wondering what triggered this obsessive behavior.
Was it how dreamy you looked and sounded?
Was it the fact that he had to wait to get more from you?
Or maybe was the fact you were unreachable, acting like a bait to his delusional romantic heart?
Did he really fell in love with a famous person?
How bad was that? 
“And you're ignoring me again.”
Heeseung blinked a few times to regain his consciousness back to reality, the one where Jake was shooting him an annoyed look and his food was getting cold; the thoughts about you and his respective questions evaporating from his mind quickly. 
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit distracted today,” Heeseung slurped his, now, cold ramen, avoiding Jake’s judgmental eyes and grabbing his phone to see the notification that got it buzzing on the table.
“Oh, you tell me.” He rolled his eyes, before giving a quick head nod at Heeseung’s direction. “What’s going on?”
“Uh, nothing. You can continue your–” Heeseung was about to change the subject back to whatever Jake was talking, not wanting to admit that the reason he got so zoned out was you, although Jake was pretty much aware of this part of his friend’s life; Heeseung being a mess and failing completely in the art of downplaying. But then he saw Sunoo’s message. “Oh shit.” 
“What?” Jake asked with concern, observing Heeseung’s expression morphing from a shocking one with widened eyes and mouth slightly agape, to an extremely joyful one, with a big smile creeping out of his lips, growing gradually.
“Oh shit, oh shit.” 
“What!?” Jake exasperated, almost jumping over the table to try and see what got Heeseung so excited on his phone, curiosity overtaking him. “Huh?” He tilted his head with confusion, sitting back on his chair, trying to understand Heeseung’s overly stoked reaction over a simple poster from a musical.
On the other hand Heeseung’s heart was racing too quickly for his own liking, his hands faltering the grip on his phone as he read the dates for the performances, which were starting that weekend in some random place he didn’t paid attention since what caught his eyes was the theater name from the next week. 
He couldn’t believe it.
You were coming back.
After all the waiting, here was the chance he'd been craving – the chance to see you live again. His fingers twitched with excitement as he clicked on the link to the ticket sales, not even caring about Jake’s bewildered face and questions, too focused on rushing to the ‘buy menu’.
“Oh shit, this is happening,” Heeseung muttered to himself, more to confirm it than to explain anything to Jake.
“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or just forget I’m right here?” Jake demanded, clearly frustrated but also amused by Heeseung's sudden outburst.
Heeseung finally looked up, beaming, eyes gleaming with something Jake never really saw before; it was like a child who got their first videogame after years of asking for it.
"It’s her, Jake! That singer I told you about. She’s performing here in like… A few days?" The cool facade he tried to maintain had a fall long ago, his ‘fanboy side’ being more revealed than he wanted.
Jake’s confusion lingered for a second before he remembered Heeseung relentlessly talking about this mysterious woman, the musical actress who had somehow captivated his friend so intensely. He let out a knowing groan. “So, you’re still obsessing over her, huh?”
“Not obsessing,” Heeseung corrected with a grin that betrayed him, his whole expression showing that he was, in fact, obsessing. “Just… Eager.”
Jake shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Eager, huh?” He leaned closer, raising an eyebrow up. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, and then they spend a fortune on front-row tickets."
“Oh, right. Front-row…” Heeseung mumbled to himself as he got back to his phone, browsing through the available seats, hands slightly trembling as his finger pressed down to choose one of the best seats in the theater – front and center – with Jake’s words echoing in his mind. Thanks to Sunoo, he saw the announcement just in enough time to pick that one, and he completely ignored the price for the said ticket. 
“You’re really doing this?” Jake asked, incredulous watching Heeseung smile growing just before he bit his lower lip trying to contain it, as he leaned back on his chair. 
“I have to,” Heeseung said, finding it hard to not smile. His whole body was partying with his heartbeat serving as the background music. "This is my chance to see her again."
Jake rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re so random.”
“Yeah,” Heeseung admitted with a shrug, his thoughts already drifting to the date he would see you, imagining your captivating presence on stage, singing with your ethereal voice, finally feeling every note in the same room as you with the attention you deserved.
He couldn’t wait.
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Every time you opened a new show in a different city, your body reacted as if it was your first time on stage, the blended nervousness and excitement working perfectly together and resulting in an adrenaline boost for you to be on cloud nine. 
You loved your job with all your soul. The family-like friendship you developed with your beloved crewmates and actors, the backstage of the plays where you sometimes helped with the props letting your creativity flow freely, the difficult work of memorizing the scenes keeping it to the original at the same time you add a few self-written lines here and there, even the chaos of the quick costume changes and fast makeup touch-up in between scenes.
But what got into your heart the most was the ability to sing your voice out, being the one under the spotlight, expressing yourself through your acting, surprising people with your so known talent the same amount you made them clap for your breathtaking performances – the cheers after every play you finished making you fulfilled, a constant feeling of accomplishment. 
You worked hard to get into that position though. Years of intense studying in college, years of hard vocal lessons you still took to this day, years of working much to be paid less, until fame hit you and things have worked amazingly well since then. 
Now, facing the closed curtains already in your performer mode, you waited your cue to enter the stage and own it as if it was yours – and almost every time, it actually was. 
“Thirty seconds, Y/N,” your stage manager said to you and you nodded.
The new play was about an old film called Anastasia, in which you played the role of the said character. It also featured one of your favorite songs to sing, "Once Upon a December”. The haunting melody and lyrics evoked feelings of nostalgia, hitting deep on you as you drove yourself through it, just like the main character, searching for your identity and place in the world.
The atmosphere your fellow actors and crewmates created while you sang was the epitome of your presentation in your opinion; the created ballroom simulating phantoms dancing around you, so endearingly majestic and graceful, while they, themselves, sang the background, mimicking the lost memories of royalty Anastasia. 
It would be an euphemism if you expressed yourself as just excited, especially due to your practice time on your expressions and voice changes to sound as heartbreak as the musical actually was, expecting the general opinion to enjoy it as much as you did.
You could hear the buzz from the public, showing the same enthusiasm. And with that in mind, you got your cue to enter the stage, fast and confident steps guiding you to your place.
As you directed yourself through the stage gracefully, easily taking the breath of anyone watching you, once more the sentiment of belonging eveloped you with a mix of love and deep sense of purpose.
The cheering, the emotional tears, the claps. You felt the audience's admiration through their eyes as the final note echoed in the theater while you held your last pose, breathing heavily as the weight of your performance resonated in your heart.
The curtains closed after you and the other actors bowed to the crowd, who gave a standing ovation to all of you. Your smile was bright and big as you walked your way to the backstage, high-fiving your co-workers – your friends –, sharing the sentiment of accomplishment as you searched for some water, throat extremely dry after so much effort. 
Before you could even think about anything else, someone suddenly bear-hugged you.
“I don’t know how you manage to awe me everytime.”
You laughed, letting your friend lift and swirl you. “Oh come on, Jay. You literally saw every single practice,” you said with a light-hearted teasing tone and Jay gently put you back on the floor, letting you go from his strong embrace. 
He rolled his eyes before replying. “You did amazing, as always.”
“We did amazing. It's teamwork, don’t forget it,” you winked at him and you both walked to one of the couches, so you could sit and rest for a bit. Your knees burned like hell after spending so much time wandering across the stage. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of that alone, especially without my favorite producer,” you nudged his shoulder playfully, drinking more of your water, making Jay chuckle.
The whole cast and some other crewmates came to compliment your amazing performance, you praising them back and always highlighting how grateful you were to have them not only as co-workers, but as a family, acknowledging the strong importance of their roles during your performances and in your life.
You went through the things that needed to be fixed for the next shows with your stage manager, the small changes in positions for the next theaters the tour would go based on their size and structure, while listening to the equipment and props crew discussing similar stuff.
“So… Where are we going to celebrate our “Anastasia debut”?” Yunjin asked, already frustrated with the fact that all her fellow members were talking about work just after working, you included.
“Don’t you have work to do?” You shoot her a small, playful grimace and she mimicked it, mocking you. 
“I just did it, idiot.”
You smiled big as you hugged her from the waist, pulling her closer while resting your cheek on her belly, before questioning. “Where do you wanna go?”
Although partying wasn’t a part of your overall interest, having some drinks with the ones you cherished to be around always sounded fun, so with Yunjin leading – as usual –, many of you followed her into a small pub, having the fun you deserved after months of work that leaded to that night’s rewarding performance. 
You couldn’t wait for the upcoming ones, your schedule packed with the amount of dates programmed for a long, exciting, run.
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“Ugh, I love Seoul,” Yunjin murmured with a concentrated frown as she took some pictures from the bus window. 
You chuckled, quickly glancing at your friend before grabbing your phone so you could reread some of the lines from the musical. Not that you struggled with memorizing the great amount of words you normally got, but you never let the chance to do a double check-up pass; always offering your bestest to your beloved audience was your prime motto. 
So you didn’t even realize when the bus started slowing its speed, snapping out of your focused bubble only when you started to hear a small chant of your name. You looked up from your phone screen, watching a little crowd pass by the glass window waving at it showing big smiles, without even knowing if someone was noticing or not. 
You always did.
Part of your job was to handle an audience, to make them fall in love with your acting and singing, so you could maintain them as close as possible and keep being able to live from what you loved the most. You enjoyed the interactions, treating them with the same amount of kindness and fondness they showed you through cute texts and letters, not to mention their words whenever they got to meet you in person. You tried to make yourself as available as you could, organizing your day to always have some free time to talk with your fans through your social media. 
Although exhausting sometimes, it was a worthwhile endeavor at the end of the day – to sleep with the fresh conscience and heart fulfilled, feeling their genuine love and support, no money could pay that.
When you finally settled at your hotel room, you gave yourself a small self-love treatment by taking a long shower and doing your skin care before heading to the theater with part of the cast to do all the warm-ups routine you needed.
The day carried a revitalizing sensation, your heart thumping with enthusiasm as the third performance of Anastasia approached. This time, however, it was more than special. It was in Seoul, your hometown – a simple fact that worked perfectly as an emotional aura for your background story.
Seoul always held a special place in your heart. No matter how the tour went, you made sure your managers knew that taking Seoul off the list was unforgivable; no matter the demand, no matter how much you could lose financially, you had to perform there. And you thanked your cast and respective crewmates for understanding your request.
While you wrapped up all the final touches from your makeup, hair and costume, drinking your last sip of water, you waited for your cue, as usual, unaware of the surprises the night held for you.
Because on the other side of the story...
Heeseung sat on his front seat with hands trembling and a fluttering heart. Every movement from the crew organizing the set to be perfect made him sweat in eagerness. He was so close to see you again, to witness your charming presence, your divine vocals. He didn’t knew much about the story from Anastasia, expecting for you to sweetly tell him through your performance. 
He was actually absorbed in the story being told, albeit his leg shaking showed his anticipation for your appearance. 
Thenyou finally stepped up onto the stage. Heeseung’s breath got caught on his throat, widened eyes glued on your every move, on your every expression, never daring to let you escape out of its sight; the front-row seat offering him the perfect view of your amazing looks and talented acting, the sound echoing through the theater tingling his ears in the best way possible.
Then your voice filled up the theater. Heeseung let out a quiet sigh, mouth slightly opened, feeling light headed by how gorgeous you sounded – there was it again, the rush of his heart fluttering in the addicting way it did before, entranced by you, this time intensified, stronger, far more passionate. 
As the melody of “Once Upon a December” flew through the air, your beautiful, shooting tone made it even harder not to shed some tears, alongside the couples dancing around you in an atmosphere almost painfully beautiful.
Heeseung was so enamored by every detail of you. How you expressed emotions with your body, with your singing, with your facials. His gaze never left you, following through your out’s and in’s from the stage to change outfits or scenes, missing you every moment you weren’t on the stage.
During your performance, each glimpse you shot at the crowd sent a shiver down his spine, as he silently begged for you to give him one, quick, minimal look, the smallest attention you could offer to him. 
For a brief second, you did. Not intentional, but your eyes meet for milliseconds. Heeseung’s heart skipped a beat; the way you smiled as if it was to him fed his delusional self too hard for his own liking. He had to ground himself back to reality in order to continue to savor your captivating performance. 
From your point of view, something was different that night. Among the sea of concentrated, curious expressions you normally faced while on stage, one particular person kept drawing your attention in a way it never happened before. 
You came across many people watching you, most of them with widened eyes, or mouth open, or a small smile, regular reactions you got from the audience once you showed up.
However, the young man sitting in the front-row flooded you with such endearing reactions; his eyes gleaming with admiration, intensely following your every move almost making you blush. He looked at you as if you were the only person in the room. Soft, tender expression sending a weird mix of reactions through your body.
As you kept doing your act, you couldn't help but glance back at him again whenever you got the chance, trying your best not to be obvious with your sudden curiosity about this stranger who seemed so completely captivated by you.
His reaction was almost adorable – the way his face lit up, as though your small acknowledgment had made his entire night. You felt a warmth in your chest, knowing that someone out there was this touched by your performance.
Through the rest of the play, you forced yourself to focus only on finishing it perfectly. “Anastasia” asked for less of a passion, happy ambiance and more of a sentimental one, and because the spotlight was constantly on you, it was very unprofessional to forget your main reason to be there and falter on your acting.
Nevertheless, each time you quickly landed your gaze on the strange, young – and attractive – man, you couldn’t help. He wasn’t just a regular fan. There was something more in his orbs, something deeper, something magnetic, and you caught yourself having an internal conflict. 
As you held your pose for the last piece of the play, showering emotion through your eyes for the happy ending, you nodded proudly to yourself when the cast prepared to wrap things up with the final performance.
Whoever the strange was, you apparently made quite an impression. And maybe, just maybe, he had made one on you too.
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“Anastasia” was scheduled to be performed for three consecutives days, an entire weekend. Heeseung bought tickets for all of them, craving to experience you in all the ways he was able to – with the big stage separating you both, leaving him to just observe you from afar while you did your job.
Your job.
After the first night finished, Heeseung questioned himself whether he was perceiving things beyond reality, maybe distorted, influenced by his strange, yet pleasant and intense feelings for you. If not, he was pretty sure that you watched him as much as he watched you.
He recognized the flips his heart did every time your eyes landed on him, just to avoid quickly and slip back into your character – the need of seeing you again being reinforced by those exact little glimpses towards his direction, a river rushing through his head, full of confused thoughts.
Still, he reminded himself not to get too carried away. After all, you were working, captivating the audience was your job, which you did gracefully, gorgeously, charmingly. And charmed he was, in every possible sense of the word. 
By the second night, Heeseung arrived earlier than he planned, the excitement to see you again swelling in his chest. Though this time he wasn’t on the front-row either alone, he still got a great seat to see you.
“I can’t believe you liked the musical that much to see it again,” Sunoo teased with a small smile.
Heeseung’s cheeks warmed instantly, a faint blush decorating it as he avoided Sunoo’s glance, before saying. “Y–yeah, I liked the musical a lot. I had to see it again,” he offered an award laugh, looking down his lap.
“Right. The musical.” 
Heeseung was about to respond when the lights began to dim, the known introductory instrumental and the storyteller started to play their roles. His heart skipped a beat as his head lifted, eyes following the actors entering the stage as they started to tell the plot. 
Just like before, as soon as you stepped onto the stage, his eyes glued on your beautiful figure. You looked even prettier that day, although you didn’t change anything since last night.
For a millisecond your emotional eyes drifted quickly to the crowd and Heeseung’s breath hitched, eager for you to notice him in order to confirm his delusional state, or worse, do the reverse, making him understand he was looking at the situation using too much of his romantic side.
His seat was not an easy spot to see him, and somehow that comforted his inner self. If he was right about last night, you would catch his presence, his intense, focused, admiring orbs following your every move. Otherwise, he would give up on whatever he was feeling about you.
On the other hand, Heeseung barely knew you were having a strong internal debate every time you went backstage to get out of your scene after finishing it. Heeseung had no idea you were looking for him like crazy, the best way you could. Heeseung couldn’t even imagine you, out of all the actors, would be using your highlight time, singing, to search for his mysterious presence, pretending to look at the audience as you normally did. 
And you found him during “Once Upon a December” as you expected to do, since it was your moment to sing facing the crowd.
Ironically enough, the exact time you sang the line “Someone holds me safe and warm”, you locked eyes with him – caught totally out of guard, your heart started thumping in your chest too fast for your liking as you widened your eyes, then quickly recomposed yourself and fluttered your eyelids shut, concentrating on singing your emotional song. 
Somehow you got captivated by his mysterious, yet gentle aura, standing out so easily among the sea of people, offering you cute and genuine reactions, showering you with admiration. Like a magnet, you kept glimpsing at him, finding it, again, adorable, how he always held eye contact, seeming a bit surprised, and then shyly drifted away. Even after finishing your solo, you couldn’t divert your gaze.
Heeseung, however, was a total mess. He noticed everything, and as an automatic response his heart was pacing fast, his throat getting dry and his mind spinning. It couldn't be a coincidence that you glanced at him that often mid-performance.
“I might be crazy,” Sunoo whispered out of the blue, using the loud sound of the singers doing their performance to stifle his voice. “But is Y/N looking at us? Or better, at you?”
Heeseung drifted his bambi eyes to Sunoo and back to the stage, frowning. “You–”
“See! She did it again!” Due to his exasperated way of saying, his whisper sounded a bit high. Some people gave him a mad grimace, he huffed an embarrassed laugh.
"She's an actress. She probably looks at a hundred people like that every night," Heeseung explained with a low voice, trying to convince himself more than Sunoo.
“Whatever you say,” Sunoo grinned at his friend before returning to watch the play.
As expected, the musical ended gracefully after a few moments of tension and the story finished to be told. Your acting skills shone through you every move, captivating the audience until the last second. 
The lights dimmed once more, and the applause echoed through the theater vigorously in appreciation for that amazing show. Heeseung standed up to clap along, not even hiding he was searching for you amidst the chaos. When the cast bowed to the crowd, looking at them after straightening up to face the audience, a last and steady eye contact was held before the curtains closed, leaving Heeseung speechless, mouth slightly agape.
“Even if she looks at everyone, she had some special eyes for you tonight.” Sunoo said low near to Heeseung’s ear, feeding all his thoughts.
Heeseung left the theater more confused than he expected, trying to figure out if the connection was true, or if all the world decided to trick his mind. In any case, he had one more day to untangle the blended strings of his sentiments, and maybe, if he was lucky enough, the last show would work differently from the other two.
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You were removing your makeup on your hotel room desk, Yunjin sitting on your bed finishing her own skin care routine. 
“I know this sound crazy and unprofessional, but last night there was a guy on the front-row–”
“The burgundy-haired guy! He couldn’t stop looking at you!” Yunjin cut you off, saying loudly and too excitedly.
Your head snapped towards her. “Burgundy– Wait, you’ve noticed him too!?” You asked flabbergasted, before going back to cleaning your skin, removing your makeup.
“Of course I did, he was almost eating you alive,” she said, rolling her eyes as she applied her skin toner. You looked at her again, but now with a shocked face, trying to figure out the meaning behind her phrase. “But with love. In a cute way!” She clarified after noticing your exaggerated reaction.
“I was afraid I was seeing things,” you frowned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you.
“Girl, definitely not,” she smirked. “If he shows up tomorrow again, please, for the sake of everything, get his number,” she demanded seriously and pointed to you with the bottle of the cream she held. 
“Oh, of course I will,” you said with a layer of sarcasm, not holding back your grin. “I’ll jump off of the stage mid-performance, hand him a paper and ask for his number.”
Yunjin giggled, nudging you with wiggly eyebrows. “Maybe that’s the grand finale we all need.”
You chuckled at her response, however, your thoughts drifted back to the said burgundy-haired guy, the memory of his intense, pierce, yet lovingly eyes glued on you sending a small heat to your cheeks as you finished your skin care.
When you woke up the next morning, your stage manager demanded the presence of everyone in the theater way earlier than you expected for some practice time. 
As the night approached, you found yourself now behind the big, red curtains with the buzz from the audience serving as a background. You stood in a corner of the backstage area, counting down from ten to one as a mental exercise to calm yourself. 
The anxiety you felt wasn’t the usual thrilling excitement before entering the stage, the longing to shine as the main act from the night. No, this time it was mixed with something else. 
There was a big chance the nameless guy would be in the audience once more, eyes glued on you like a magnet, attracting yours instinctively, in a way you didn’t found too pleasant still; a tall, strong barrier inside your chest making it difficult to ease things while working.
The familiar voice from Jay broke you out of your thoughts, interrupting your now inhale-exhale exercise.
“So, I’ve heard you’re changing your performance for today.” He said, voice laced with playfulness and curiosity.
You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What?”
“Get the number of the ‘burgundy-haired guy’?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of tease and amusement. “Or whatever Yunjin named him. Who uses burgundy as an everyday word?”
You shut your eyes close, finally understanding his words. “Ah.” You chuckled softly. “Yeah, the burgundy-haired guy.”
Jay laughed, warm and reassuring, placing both his hands on your shoulders so you wouldn’t avoid his gaze as you opened your eyes. “Invite him backstage today.”
Once again, you offered him a confused look, but now with a strong lack of confidence among it. His quick senses noticed your doubtful expression and added with a soft voice. “Y/N, you’re a human. You’re allowed to feel your feelings. Even if it’s about someone from the audience.”
You kept looking at Jay’s gentle eyes, not even a hint of judgment behind them. “Ok,” you said in response, nodding slowly before a smile tempted to curve into your lips. “Better option than jumping on him mid-performance to ask for his number.”
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Heeseung had finished watching you for the third time, doing the exact same things, singing the exact same songs, saying the exact same lines, with the exact same props and cast.
Still he experienced shivers down his spine once you sang “Once Upon a December”, a song that quickly crawled his ranking of your performances, topping all of the others. Not only that, you also seemed way confident today. 
Heeseung, on the other hand, was getting flustered.
You didn’t care much about being obvious with your glances at him that night, sustaining eye contact longer than he expected. Heeseung felt that you were performing for him only, just like he watched you as if you were the only person on the stage. 
You both shared an unspeakable connection in between the play – you, keeping as professional as possible; while Heeseung tried not to run away from your sharp, intriguing gaze.
Despite your initial nervousness, especially without knowing if the mysterious guy would appear again, feeding your anticipation inside your chest as you entered the stage, it took less than minutes for your eyes to find him, sitting on the side, giving you a small, shy smile. 
You made no effort to contain your heartbeats increasing each time your eyes met, allowing your body to feel the wave of euphoria running through it, regardless of your hesitant thoughts about being unprofessional.
Whenever your character demonstrated happy emotions, with your lips curving into a smile, you searched for him as though you were smiling at him. Same thing when you sang some specific lines, searching from his sweet orbs following your figure already. Although the concept of the musical wasn’t necessarily romantic nor suggestive, there were some gaps you could use to your advantage, and you did. 
By the end of your last performance in Seoul, you smiled brightly and big at the crowd, thanking them alongside your crewmates, bowing and waving goodbye; the known sense of accomplishment flowing into your veins, now blended with the excitement for your next move.
As you walked your way out of the stage, before the big curtains fully closed, lights already dim in the stage but bright on the seats side, you searched once more for the man who had charmed you. He was also making his way out of the theater, your heart pounding in despair as if you were about to lose him.
But like you attracted him through your intense staring, he looked back directly at you. Boldly, you offered a shy smile, biting your lips hesitantly before grabbing your manager's arm and sneakily pointing out to who you wanted to meet backstage.
Heeseung’s heart raced as he watched the ongoing scene, mind unable to wrap a full comprehension about why you and some stranger were staring at him, even scanning his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t seeing things – like maybe you were looking out for some other person. Then he noticed you pointing and the other strange nodding, as if they finally understood your intentions, almost mouthering an “oh”.
Heeseung tilted his head, swallowing hard as a slight frown formed when he saw you vanishing behind the closed curtains, leaving him to deal with his puzzled brain alone. He blinked a few times, then shrugged to himself, putting his hands in his jacket’s pocket, even shaking his head trying to recompose.
As he took the exit direction with the rest of the people, a security guard suddenly stopped him by grabbing his shoulder, saying in a low tone. "Sir, you’ve been requested backstage."
Heeseung was unsure if he heard correctly.
"Backstage? Me?" He stammered, mouth slightly open and bambi eyes full of confusion. Did he do something wrong?
The guard nodded and motioned to him. “Follow me, please.” 
Heeseung legs felt like jelly following the random guard into the said backstage, a blurred motion of his surroundings as the crew passed by, some removing the props off the stage, many others wandering around, and then he recognized the actors from the musical talking in between themselves, loud laughters echoing through the small area, some with their stage clothes on.
Then he saw you.
Still wearing parts of your outfit, smiling radiantly while chatting with someone he made no effort to identify – his body perked up with the sight of you, his whole being drawn like a magnet. 
He barely noticed the guard was long gone by now, leaving him standing awkwardly with mingled feelings he couldn't figure out yet. Bewilderment was a euphemism to describe it. 
You seemed even prettier now than under the spotlight, shining on the stage. You seemed natural, although you still had makeup and pieces of your exaggerated royal costume on. 
As you sensed the intensity of his stare, you turned, eyes locking immediately with Heeseung’s. The spark he would often feel when watching you perform ignited again, hands trembling, heart painfully resonating loud on his ears as the whole world seemed to fade out when you started to walk into his direction. 
He was so in awe he didn’t notice you were hesitant, your movements appearing to be slowed down in his vision.
“Hi.” You said softly as you reached closer, biting your lower lip to suppress your excited smile, afraid of scaring the guy off.
Your gaze wandered his face, taking in his gorgeous features; adorable bambi eyes showing you an entire night sky full of stars, cheeks with a faint blush, cherry lips slightly parted. Unnecessarily attractive. 
If you paid close attention, you would perceive how his ears also were painted in a light shade of red.
“Hi.” He breathed out in an astonished way, a sweet voice that made your stomach do a flip.
“I’m sorry for bringing you here so suddenly.” You started, and although you felt a small heat in your cheeks, you didn’t broke eye contact. “I– Honestly, I was afraid of losing sight of you,” you grinned shyly. “I’ve noticed you in the audience for the past two days and today as well.” You explained, after receiving nothing in response. “I wondered what got you so invested,” and then you chuckled, forcely agreeing that your choice of words was enough to clarify – for sure it wasn’t, but you decided to deal with whatever consequences later. 
Heeseung blinked with the new piece of information that entered his brain, perplexed by how sincere you worded it. 
“You noticed me?” He could feel his heart faltering some beats and then fastening again, totally desynchronized. Gladly he could figure out something to say, since his throat felt like closing. 
“Yeah, quite hard not to when you look at me so intensely with your beauti– with your eyes,” you tried to sound chill and playful to ease things, making it less awkward. However, the way you spoke seemed a bit too flirty, not to mention you almost let a compliment slip out of your mouth, and he blushed harder, chuckling. 
“I didn’t mean to stare. I mean, you’re an actress of course you’re used to that, but I recognize I might have crossed the line,” he was strong in maintaining his eyes on you, but the way you were looking through your eyelashes, blinking slowly, so prettily right in front of him, broke down his confidence – in a good, amazing way. Everything feeling like a fever dream.
You giggled, loving how you were affecting him, just as much as he was messing you. Before you could say anything, he added with a small shrug.
“I just got captivated by you.” And he went back into locking his eyes with yours.
Now it was your time to get a bit flustered, still, you held it together just before reuniting all the forces you found internally to say your next words.
“You’ve crossed no lines,” you smiled. “And I’ve got captivated by you.”
You watched how his Addam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the tension on his body loosening slightly, his timid smile spreading gradually wider as though your words unlocked something different deep within him. Somehow, you got even curious about what he could show you.
“May I ask your name?”
“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung,” he responded, offering you his hand. Your eyes followed the movement as you gave him a sheepish grin, grabbing his warm palm, the touch lingering enough to make your breath hitch.
“I’m Y/N,” you replied playfully, making him laugh, holding hands still.
His eyes turned into small crescents as he did so, his soft chuckle resonating beautifully in your ears. For some random reason, your heart started to beat faster, an interesting feeling spreading all over your chest, making you sigh.
“You were incredible up there,” Heeseung said after you both let each other’s hands go, blocking the awkwardness from establishing in between you two. 
“Yeah?” You raised an eyebrow and your lips curved into a smirk, knowing very much you did amazing, but a compliment from a gorgeous man like that easily ruined your confidence and contradictory, at the same time, it flattered your ego. “Thank you.” You said, right before analyzing you and Heeseung were standing in the middle of nowhere inside the backstage of the theater, so you gently grabbed his arm and dragged him with you to a corner.
Heeseung just followed you, in trance with your beauty, with your presence, with you. He also observed that your normal voice sounded quite different from when you were on stage. Endearing, if he dared to say.
As you reached a quieter corner, you let go from his arm and leaned into the wall, curiosity filling your eyes as you bit your lower lip.
“Sorry about that,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle. “Didn’t want us to block the path,” you nodded to where you were before.
“No problem,” Heeseung replied, still processing the sudden pull, the phantom of your warm touch still tingling on his skin. 
“So, besides me,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you, a hint of playfulness glinting in your eyes. “What did you think of ‘Anastasia’?”
Heeseung let out a chuckle, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lips as he took a moment to answer. 
“I loved every bit of it,” his voice dropped slightly and his gaze deepened. Although the known tenderness seemed to be mingled with it, there were more layers on it. “But I have to admit. You were my main focus.”
You giggled again. Second time in just a few minutes together. Heeseung actually felt like going to heaven and back to earth with the sound of your giggles, having to physically stop himself from his hands touching you, caressing your adorable blushed cheeks or landing on your hips.
“You flatter me,” you said sheepishly, uncrossing your arms. “But I’m sure I wasn’t that distracting, Heeseung.”
His name sounded so much more beautiful in your voice – the way you said it was magnetic, with a hint of sensuality and teasing, making his heart skip several beats.
“You definitely were, Y/N.” He opted to play in your game, taking a step closer, recognizing the change of the atmosphere between you two. 
You also were aware of the shift in the air, allowing your flirty, shameless part to shine brighter during the conversation. “I think I owe you a proper thank you for being such an attentive audience member.” 
Heeseung’s smile slowly faded out, his eyes softening and growing more intense, half-lidded with anticipation as you reached to hold his hand. 
“How do you plan on doing that?” He asked, husky voice tickling your stomach, his fingers sweetly playing with yours.
You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your nervousness evident as you replied, “Would you mind waiting for me to change? It’ll take about an hour...” 
“Absolutely not,” he eagerly replied, eyes lightening up with expectation. Then he lifted your hand until his lips touched it and placed a tender kiss, as an unspoken promise he would wait for you. “I’ll be right here. Take your time.”
The soft press of his lips on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth spreading directly into your heart making your pulse race. 
Unwillingly, you released his brief, yet electrifying touch, offering a flustered grin and a reassuring nod while the anticipation grew within you. As you turned towards the changing room, you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your back, never once losing sight of you.
Yunjin met you there, more excited than you by your supposed date, to which you shut down right away saying it wasn’t a date. Despite your complaints, she kept her usual cheerful energy, helping you to undo your hairstyle as you removed your makeup, just to apply something more natural and less theatrical. You took a quick shower, as the heavy stage clothes and intense movements during the performance had left you feeling sweaty and disheveled.
Despite rushing your time, the fear that Heeseung might already be long gone was rapidly sinking in, so you hurried your steps out of the changing room when you finished your things, walking back to where you left him.
You let out a relieved sigh as you saw his figure happily talking with one of your friends, now with his back facing you.
“Oh, so you already met Jay.” You greeted them with a smile.
Heeseung averted his attention to your approach, your fresh sprayed perfume infiltrating his airways. He took his time to check you out shamelessly with his pretty bambi eyes filled with a perfect mixture of adoration and something darker.
“Yeah, he did.” Jay nodded with a smile, before leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “He seems pretty great, Y/N. Amazing choice,” and he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, walking away after saying a quick goodbye.
You felt your cheeks heating up with your friend's words, a faint blush decorating the area, to which Heeseung noticed right away. 
“You look beautiful.” He said softly, loving how casual you wore yourself; loose black shirt, baggy jeans and black converse.
Your natural look would always be his favorite – he wouldn’t admit that easy, but he stalked your instagram like crazy during the first days, so he was aware of a few things about your visual. However, no one prepared his heart to face it so closely, your beauty glowing even stronger now. 
“Thank you.”
He got startled when you kindly took his hand with yours, pulse racing with the sudden intimate touch. Nonetheless, he was loving every second of it, fearlessly lacing your fingers, paying close attention to your reaction. As he expected, you smiled sheepishly. 
“Would it be disappointing that my suggestion is a private bar near here, so we can drink and talk?” You hesitantly asked as you started to head towards the exit.
“Of course not.” Heeseung shot you with one of his sweet, reassuring glances. “I would go anywhere with you.”
You chuckled, unconsciously squeezing his hand as you tried to run from his flirty eyes. “You shouldn’t say things you can’t carry out.” You said, teasingly.
You both reached out of the theater using the back exit, avoiding the public so you could have some privacy. Being famous had its perks, but also a lot of downs, the lack of privacy being one of them. Nonetheless, you loved each individual part of it; since the beginning of your career you built a good community. In your relationship with your fans, you constantly reinforced yours and theirs boundaries. 
“You think I can’t?” He quirked an eyebrow, a sly smirk taking place on his cherry lips. You couldn’t help but focus on how Heeseung appeared even more handsome under the city’s nightlights, sharp lines being evidenced while the fresh breeze messed up his burgundy hair. “Should I prove you wrong, then?”
You got a bit taken aback with his sudden confidence, yet, you loved to see this new side of him blooming with you, allowing yourself to indulge in the game as much as you were enjoying the player.
“Well,” you began to talk. “You have three days before I head to the next city.” 
Although Heeseung’s chest tightened with your unexpected reality shock, reminding him that you were a busy woman, and traveling a lot was a enormous part of your work, he decided to enjoy your presence as much as you let him to, instead of overthinking about your soon departure.
Heeseung waited for you for months, he would wait for more if he needed to. 
His smile softened, still, his eyes sparkled by your subtle challenge. “Three days, huh? I’ll have to make them unforgettable then.”
You laughed, his words sending a pleasantly thrill in your core, excited with his promise. 
“Isn’t that too much pressure?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I like a challenge,” Heeseung shot back, playful voice laced with something deeper, almost daring. 
You giggled at his response, only now noticing he hadn’t let go of your hand since the beginning. Initially, you were apprehensive about the intimate touch, but Heeseung’s presence stirred a surprising sense of ease within you. His effortless way of breaking through your barriers made you feel comfortable enough to be yourself, dissolving your reservations with a natural grace.
You wondered if it was because he seemed genuine with his actions, since the very first night offering you such sweet glances and admiration eyes.
During your walk, you could see through his kind actions how respectful and caring he was, switching places with you so he was the one on the road side of the sidewalk, letting you walk in front of him whenever the space was narrowed by the flush of people, and mostly just by letting you to talk without interruptions.
Despite Heeseung’s ability of lowering your defenses, you still had some difficult thoughts about allowing it too much. A strong part of you were afraid of giving other people’s free access to your private life. You wished Heeseung could prove to you he was worth it. 
You reached the bar quicker than you expected, your relaxed chat filling up the walk as you discovered some of Heeseung’s personal traits and that he worked in the entertainment industry, being the one behind the scenes in the marketing area for some brands. Also you find out that his favorite hobby was to play on his computer during his free time and watch random youtube videos.
Since you knew the place, you chose a recluse seat near the corners, where no one could see you both having your intimate time together.
“I have to be honest,” Heeseung said after he sat down, facing you. “I’ve been in Seoul for God’s know how long, and I have never seen this bar.”
You laughed, grabbing the menu, your hungriness screaming in your stomach. 
“I love it here.” You smiled. “It’s very private and not many people are allowed to enter. Actually, if I’m not mistaken, it’s kind of an artist type of place? Like famous people and, I don’t know, CEOs come here.” You explained, Heeseung nodding to your words.
Heeseung was so thrilled with the whole experience of getting to know you better. He had always envisioned you as an idol-like figure. Your unreachable, distant persona, unallowing his mind to go further than watching you on stage. 
Ironically enough, the natural side you showed so far warmed his heart even more. Your bold humor, your confident actions, how your eyes lit up when you talked about your job and interests – everything working perfectly to make it harder not to fall for you.
Seeing you out of the actress aura, in a more relaxed and genuine setting, only deepened his fascination. The charm you once threw at him increased gradually as he felt his heart fluttering with your laughter and easy talk. 
You both got along like it was meant to be.
“I actually became interested in musicals because of you,” he admitted after some chatting, sipping the non-alcoholic drink he ordered.
“How come?” You asked, interested in the story, biting your pajeon.
One thing you loved about your job was to hear people’s stories of how they got interested in musicals. You’ve heard many, some because of their parents, some due to curiosity, others because of seeing it online. 
However, Heeseung’s one was a bit… Different from what you expected. 
“Oh,” Heeseung expressed with a shy smile, lowering his eyes to his glass, playing with the border of it. You cocked your head to the side, wondering why he went silent after your question. “I kinda…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the movement neatly noticed by you. “Fell for your aura, y’know?” He tried his best not to say he fell for you. “Your voice is amazing. And you looked so confident.”
You blinked slowly with a bright smile, loving to see his flustered self gathering all the resources in his body trying not to be so obvious, although his eyes never lied to you. Heeseung’s words and the way his body was reacting unlocked something bold inside your chest. 
You were about to speak, thanking him for his appreciation or whatever your mind could come up with, but he continued. 
“The first time I watched a musical was when you did Tangled,” Heeseung was doing his best not to look at your eyes, afraid of losing his inner battle and saying what he wasn’t planning to. “I was accompanying a friend that loves you.”
“Oh,” You said excitedly, a smirk on your lips. You raised your glass and clinked it with his. “Cheers to your friend then.” You laughed at his confused reaction, now finally looking at you with his blushed cheeks, unnecessarily adorable. “Thanks to him, we met. Isn’t that right?” 
A darker shade of red painted his cheeks as he smiled bashfully.
“I think we can say that, yeah.” He nodded, taking a good sip of his drink, bambi eyes following your movements. 
You leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with what Heeseung read as mischief, making his heart falter some beats.
“So you’re saying you’re a fan of mine now?” You teased, biting your lip shamelessly as your eyes drifted to Heeseung’s cherry ones. The alcohol in your veins facilitating not only your words to come out, but your actions to be bolder. 
Heeseung got initially stunned by your not so subtle flirting, pulse increasing fast. Then he decided to get on your game, purposely wetting his lips just to watch your gaze tracking motion of it. 
“Definitely a fan of yours, Y/N.” He smirked, also leaning in, your faces close enough for your breaths to slightly mingle. 
“And you’re devoted too. Attentively paying attention to me…” You purred, tilting your head to the side as your eyes softened, totally switching the atmosphere between you too once more. 
Something about the way Heeseung was attractive, had a good talk and seemed to be loving spending that small time with you, was stirring with you, to the point of you moving uncomfortable on your chair because the way he seemed to be so kissable right now was driving you insane.
Heeseung had his lips slightly agape and glistening due to his recent sip, hooded eyes analyzing your expression with adoration and wanting, as if he wasn’t afraid of showing off his feelings anymore. You appeared to be more interested in what he could offer than he was captivated by you, allowing Heeseung to gradually become confident.
His gaze lingered on your lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a sly smirk. 
“My car is parked in the theater parking lot.” He murmured, looking around before standing up just to sit on your side – you didn’t knew if it was purposeful, but the way he positioned himself  covered your figure, so no one would recognize you. “Can I take you somewhere more private?” He took the chance to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You were flabbergasted by his sudden caring gesture, albeit intrigued by the boldness in his eyes. A small breath escaped your lips as your heart started to beat fast. 
“Somewhere more private?” You echoed, voice barely above a whisper. 
Heeseung nodded, now gently brushing his thumb on your cheek, heating the area.
“Only if you want to.” He added, his voice dropping down a tone, eyes locked into yours.
Your whole body got electrified by the amazing sensations Heeseung was making you go through. 
“Take the lead, pretty boy.” You voiced out as you moved your head just enough to plant a small, tender kiss on his palm. 
Your words were all it took for Heeseung to ask for the check, and didn't let you pay for your food and drink when he did so, despite your objections. You rolled your eyes, though your heart fluttered at the way he took charge so effortlessly, as if the thought of you paying for that night never crossed his mind. 
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to be around the theater still. Is it ok for me to go get my car and then I pick you up here?” As if he hadn’t been a gentleman enough throughout the night, he questioned before you could stand up, taking your privacy into consideration for his decisions. 
“Sounds great.” You answered, forcing your body not to overreact and your voice to sound as normal as you could. “But how do I know you won’t leave me hanging?” You questioned cheekily, though there was a hint of insecurity in your voice. After all, Heeseung could be the most captivating man in the world, but you had only known him for a few hours.
“You have to trust me,” he said, throwing you a quick cocky wink paired with a smirk as he made his way out of the bar, longing his gaze on you before disappearing from the main door.
Heeseung had no idea how those simple words and gestures affected you. Crossing your legs did little to calm the rush of feelings surging through your core. 
You sighed, grabbing your phone to message Yunjin about the change of plans. She was way more excited than you, making you laugh as you typed you probably wouldn’t sleep at the hotel with her that night. 
Anyway, you were also making sure someone in your circle of friends knew your whereabouts. Again, being famous had its downs, and dealing with creepy people was on the list as well. 
You waited sitting for a few minutes before going outside, since you didn’t wanted Heeseung to make the effort of turning off his car to announce he was waiting for you. Gladly, there were a small number of people outside, and you stood near to the security guard just in case. 
You spotted a black car pulling up in front of where you were standing after a while, the window rolling down revealing Heeseung on the driver’s seat with a small smile. 
“Hey,” your lips curved into a relieved smile and you opened the door to enter the car. 
Heeseung felt bad for being unable to do that for you since he had stopped in a traffic place where he couldn’t stop for too long. Instantly you sent your live location to Yunjin, just to be safe.
“I know I was the one who brought up finding a more private place,” he started, a bit uncertain. “But do you have any place in mind?” 
His question made you think for a while. Your hotel was out of question, since Yunjin was sleeping there too. 
“I don’t wanna take you to my place right away.” He added quickly. “Don’t get me wrong. I just don’t feel you would be as comfortable there…” He trailed off, glancing at you for a millisecond. 
“Because you know your place better than me.” You completed, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smirk tugging the corner of your lips. 
“Exactly.”
“Are you a stalker or just a perfect gentleman?” You asked with curiosity and playfulness. 
Heeseung let out a hearty, loud laugh, filling up the inside of his car as he ignored how his stomach did a flip about being a perfect gentleman in your eyes. 
“Neither, I hope.” He chuckled, looking at you warmly when he stopped in one red light. 
You smiled, enjoying how at ease you became around him, the blended seductive and playful atmosphere around you two building up the ideal scenery for you to fall for Heeseung. 
On the other hand, Heeseung wasn’t different. Slightly afraid of scaring you or making you uncomfortable, but still, loving the way you expressed yourself so vividly, making him laugh every second. 
“So… We’re going…?” He sweetly asked after your silence, waiting for your suggestion.
What Heeseung didn’t expect was to see your whole face lit up with seductive playfulness, the anticipation building up before you spoke, your velvety, low voice sending signals straight to his core, as your eyes drenched him in lust.
“Anywhere we can have a bed, Heeseung.”
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Heeseung didn’t let you pay for the chosen hotel room as well, to which your body reacted instantly as the heat increased, your desire dripping out your eyes as you devoured him shamelessly. 
His impeccable manners were almost too good to be true, being such a gentleman during the night, leading the way, but only after your consent, after asking you, after you taking the decisions. He listened to your wants and found a solution easily, a characteristic you found extremely attractive. 
It was incredibly refreshing to find a man like him, so devoted to making you feel like a queen, allowing you to simply relax and enjoy yourself without you having to ask for it.
Now, however, you needed him to solve another problem, the one in which your arousal had left your panties dampened and you restless.
Seeing his charismatic interaction with the worker as nonchalantly doing the check-in, the smile after thanking them, the skilful hands grabbing his wallet, his eyes switching from tenderness to raw desire when landing them on you. Heeseung was clearly struggling to contain his eagerness to take you to an intimate setting as soon as possible. His restraintment was driving you wild, intensifying your anticipation.
How were you being so affected by that? Also, you weren’t one to hook up on your first meeting – not even calling it a date, since it was a rushed last minute type of situation. 
Then you remembered. Heeseung had built up the perfect atmosphere for you both since the very first day you saw him.
His beaming expression, eyes glued on you, showing genuine enchantment by your performance and now, you understood, by your beauty as well. You felt more than flattered to charm someone so hot and attentive as him. 
His easy going personality and the way he acted like a true man, demonstrating to genuinely care about you, made a perfect blend of your ideal type – you didn’t even knew you had one until now.
As soon as you entered the elevator, it took one simple glance from Heeseung for you to attach your lips on his, shivering at the sweet taste of his mouth as your hands searched for support on his shoulders. 
He got taken aback by your sudden decision, but didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your touch, eager for more since day one. Oh, he was in heaven by the way you were falling apart right in front of his eyes, because he, himself, was drowning in your presence since the beginning. 
His mannerism around you was flawless, how he positioned his hands respectfully on your waist instead of lower, making you smirk in between the rushed kiss, totally contradictory to how his tongue passionately searched for yours to deepen the touch.
There were no words being spoken at that moment, but so much was being vocalized through his hitched breath and your soft moans, the ones that made Heeseung’s dick twitch in his pants. 
“Fuck,” he groaned and threw his head back when you deattached your mouth just to kiss other parts of his exposed skin.
In no moment you wondered if it was a set up, because if so, Heeseung was a better actor than you. There was no way he was faking his reactions while your lips sucked the flesh of his neck vigorously, as if your life depended on it, not even caring about marking the area as you did so. 
Both of you shared the same thinking: the door needs to open soon, otherwise the elevator cameras would be filming something very intimate. 
Heeseung went back to kissing you, already addicted to your taste, sucking your tongue and lip fervently just to hear your sounds once again. You scratched his nape with your fingernails when you finally heard the sound of the door opening, both of you giggling in between the kiss since none of you decided to move away, stumbling your steps until you reached the room door. 
Heeseung positioned your back against the wall just to skilfully unlock the entrance, pushing you against the door to open and closing it back with his feet.
You took no time to appreciate the beauty of the room, eagerly waiting for the moment the back of your knee would hit the bed and you would finally have Heeseung hovering you the way you wished the most.
You removed Heeseung’s jacket and tossed it at some random place on the floor before he maneuvered your body when you reached the soft mattress, so you could lay comfortably – his strong grip on your thigh and hip sending jolts of excitement to your core as you gasped for air, but never once completely breaking the contact of his sultry, hot mouth against yours.
He wasted no second to position himself over you, the weight of his body pressing yours in an electrifying way, his lips only backing away to place rough kisses on your neck, nibbling your ear lobe as his fingers infiltrated your shirt to touch the bare skin of your stomach.
Your body reacted instantly with the amount of stimulus, arching into him, yearning more and more of his heated hands and mouth working wonders on you. Instinctively, your fingers tugged his beautiful strands of hair while pulling him down, closer, inciting Heeseung to continue his assault on your sensitive flesh. 
However, as your impatience grew, so did your desire.
“Heeseung…” You breathed out, panties already ruined by how wet you were.
“Hm?” He murmured, trailing kisses until he reached your mouth again, his hands still heating the area of your waist as he caressed it painfully slowly, giving you a rush of chills.
You kissed him back, then pushed him away by pulling his hair, searching for his now darkened eyes, filled with lust and a small hint of the usual tenderness towards you. You watched how his gaze switched between your lips, your eyes and other areas of your face, as if he was memorizing every feature of yours to keep them as a personal picture. 
“Don’t keep me waiting,” you whispered with your voice rich with desire, your heavy breaths mingling with Heeseung’s in an intimate way you didn’t expect to feel with him so easily.
He chuckled at himself, blinking slowly as he bit his lower lip, hooded eyelids demonstrating how far gone for you he already was, lost in his pleasure. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, planting a sweet kiss on each of your cheeks. “You just feel too good.”
And he wasn’t lying. 
The way your body reacted to all of his touches so far was driving him instantly to hell and back to earth, his own skin tingling with a hunger he never felt before just by hearing your small, beautiful sounds. Heeseung wished to stop time and have you like that for the rest of his life, even if it sounded exaggerated and premature. He developed feelings for you long enough to have his mind working in that way, yearning for every bit of you, with his sharp gaze catching all of your reactions as he always did.
“I want to enjoy every second I have with you.” Heeseung admitted genuinely. You noticed the top of his ears turning into a cute shade of red. 
“You can do that,” you reassured, downing your hands from his hair to his shoulders and then to his strong arms, almost moaning after feeling them tensing under your touch. “But please,” you pleaded firmly with a low voice, squeezing his biceps. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”
With a small nod, a sly grin and a brief peck on your lips, Heeseung sat on his knees, the hands once under your shirt just brushing slightly the area, glided slowly over your skin as he moved to undress the fabric off of your body. 
He searched for your gaze before moving forward. “Are you sure about that?” He had stopped himself mid-action for your consentment, and you couldn’t help but smile, finding adorable his respectfulness with you, despite the obvious shared intense, almost tangible, desire.
“Totally.” 
After your word he finally removed your shirt, leaving your upper body covered only with your bra.
You shivered under his lascivious gaze, devouring you shamelessly with a satisfied smirk. He looked drunk as he approached again, brushing his lips on your collarbone and then near your breasts, playing with it over the clothing piece teasingly, looking up at you with his big bambi eyes showing a faux innocence. 
The fresh contact of his mouth and tongue against new parts of your body made you arch your back again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation. You felt his hands working its way to free your boobs and when he finally did, you moaned in relief.
“Fuck,” he groaned with a small, attractive frown, as if he was mad with your beauty. “You look perfect.”
You fluttered your eyes open, catching a sight of how dedicated Heeseung was sucking your hardened nipple while his hand massaged the other, eventually switching sides to give both equal treatment, and you also caught him already looking at you, savoring each of your reactions.
Little did you know that while tasting you, he was also engraving into his memory those raw, genuine expressions, so different from the ones he had seen when you were on stage, acting. 
You managed to reach for the hem of his beige shirt, teasing to slide them off. He noticed right away your attempt and quickly helped you by sitting on his knees and undressing himself, revealing to your hungry eyes his slightly tanned torso, his muscles tensing as he moved to toss the clothing piece to the ground. 
Heeseung got shy under your thirsty gaze, but how could you look at him any other way? His body seemed flawless under the room’s dim light, broad shoulders, biceps and chest with just the right amount of muscles. Not to mention the silver chain necklace adorning his neck, which you found particularly attractive, and his gorgeously messy hair.
“You’re so fucking hot, Heeseung.” You murmured with sincerity, your fingers trailing over his arms, feeling the firm texture beneath your touch. 
The room appeared to shrink, the air getting thicker as your respiration accelerated with the view. The anticipation to feel all those parts pressing flush against yours grew, a thrill of excitement running throughout your body straight to your cunt. 
Heeseung acted out of instinct after your praise, as if upon realizing your desire mirrored his own, the carefulness, the gentleness he was cherishing to give you during the night instantly vanished just to be replaced by the raw yearning of being inside you. 
Of course he would still listen to your demands, there was a vivid part of him willing to give you the affection you deserved. However, by the way you cheekily smiled and how your gaze sharpened after him yanking his own jeans and then yours, he knew how you wanted it to happen.
Heeseung brushed his painfully hardened dick on your thigh as he reached for your mouth, kissing you fervently while one of his hands explored your clothed pussy. He moaned against your lips when you purposely slightly moved your leg to grace his cock with a bit more of friction, as a way of thanking him for rubbing your pulsing clit over your panties.
It was a shared intimate touch covering the visceral need of fucking you for good, his inner battle going on about how to treat you, since your non-verbal answer – lustful eyes and smile – didn’t meant much to him to be certain within his decision.
“Heeseung,” you moaned, grinding against the skilful fingers making circles on your clit, the fabric preventing you from feeling them directly on your pussy, making you annoyed. “I want you, stop teasing me.” You demanded, and instantly Heeseung moved his head to the curve of your neck, gently kissing it while pushing your panties to the side to start fingering you.
He collected a bit of your arousal on your slick folds, literally moaning just by the feeling of his digits sliding with ease on your pussy, pressing your entrance with one and then two, loving to hear your beautiful whimpers.
Heeseung supported himself with one arm just to watch your pleasant frown, your mouth slightly agape, your breath hitching, eyes fluttered shut.
“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he admitted in a low, husky tone, sending shivers to your spine. 
You opened your eyes, a sly smile adorning your lips as you said. “Imagine how beautiful I’ll be with your cock instead of your finger, then.”
Heeseung’s dick twitched against your thigh with your words. You observed his eyes darkening even more, taking in the challenge as his life depended on it, barely giving you time to process him removing all the clothing pieces from both of you, offering the gorgeous view of his reddened and extremely hard shaft, tip dripping precum. 
Your mouth watered, but you ignored your sudden urge of sucking him, since your biggest want was to have that dick inside of you as soon as possible. 
You tracked his movements with your eyes, a low groan escaping from your throat as you watched Heeseung put on the condom and pump his length a few times. The vein of his arm popped due to the motion, making you wonder how hot he would look desperately touching himself, a thought you opted to keep to yourself for now.
“I hope you don’t hold back.” You provoked, quivering beneath his heated body as he positioned himself to enter you, supporting himself with one arm as your hands found its comfort on his shoulders. 
Heeseung looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
His words only fueled the fire between you, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he aligned himself perfectly, his gaze never leaving yours. 
“You’ve set the pace,” he murmured, low voice dripping with desire. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled as a response to his dirty and teasing words, a soft moan escaping your lips as he started to fill you up so perfectly. But Heeseung gave you no time to savor it properly, beginning to thrust deep and hard, yet agonizingly slow, as if he was messing with you right after your explicit request. The playful glint in his eyes made it clear how delighted he was by setting the rhythm, toying your pussy just how he wanted, enjoying a bit too much the show of the changes in your facial expressions.
“You feel so fucking good,” Heeseung sighed with a pleasant frown. 
Your walls clenching around his sensitive dick was driving him insane, the euphoria to fuck you harder and faster rising in his chest, albeit he did his best to control it because he had two goals that night. First, to experience you in every possible way, and second, to make sure you never forgot just how incredible he could be at it.
You wanted to curse Heeseung’s pace, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t enjoying every second of his slowness, how it allowed you to feel each inch of his cock deliciously sliding inside you, delaying your run towards your relief.
Heeseung attached his lips on yours while keeping the deliberated grind, a passionate kiss mingled with your soft moans and hitched breaths.
There was something about the way he was treating your body with such devotion, taking his sweet time to taste your mouth while feeling your pussy sliding on his length, gradually learning exactly how to satisfy you.
His hands caressed your skin with affection, sensing it shivering under his contact, then he shot you a playful look, repositioning himself on his knees as he grabbed a pillow to place it under your waist, opening and slightly lifting your legs, in a way to give him easy and full access to hit you deeper.
You whimpered by the instant amazing feeling of Heeseung finding your g-spot right away, his face lighting up with the new information you just gave him without uttering a single word besides his name within moans.
“F–fuck, Heeseung–” Your broken voice and the desperation in your eyes served as the final push for Heeseung to lose control and speed his thrusts, your knuckles turning white with your strong grip on the sheets. 
You let out a sequence of whimpers, groans, moans, whatever sounds you were able to make, entirely lost in your lustful pleasure, your whole body shaking on the bed as Heeseung frantically and intensely moved his hips.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d make your days unforgettable,” Heeseung’s husky, confident voice triggered a new wave of ecstasy throughout you.
You winced underneath him, fully unable to say cohesive words. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolled back right before fluttering shut within a frown. The lewd slaps sounds of him pounding roughly on your pussy making you completely dizzy, his urgent rhythm driving you close to the edge.
Heeseung’s breathing was heavy and erratic, filling the room together with your loud moans as he pushed you near to the brink of release, his hands squeezing whatever part of your legs he touched, your own hips unconsciously grinding to meet his rhythm. 
The knot on your stomach tightened gradually, and Heeseung’s pace became unsteady. The small piece of your mind that still worked correctly deduced Heeseung was just as close as you to his own climax, so you tightened your walls purposely and opened your eyes just in the right time to catch a glimpse of Heeseung throwing back his head, consumed by his pleasure; his flushed neck glistening in sweat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moaned, the fucking chain necklace dangling.
“Hee– close–” You tried to warn, you really did. But the whole moment got you overwhelmed in the bestest way possible. You barely had strength to think, let alone talk.
Heeseung snapped out of his blurry bliss with your voice echoing in his ears. His eyes searched for you right away, instantly moaning at the view of you, perfectly messy, falling apart, just for him to see.
He leaned forward, decreasing the distance between your torsos. Without a second thought, your hands roamed over his firm, strong arms until you reached his nape, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, as though your body naturally gravitated towards him, like a magnet.
Neither of you could keep on the kiss, Heeseung’s head falling besides yours as your fingernails scratched his back, the urge of your so close orgasm making you desperate. 
“Please–” You pleaded without much thinking, legs evolving Heeseung’s waist trying to help his erratic movements. 
“Come for me, yeah?” He murmured against your ear, holding back his own release just to feel your walls clenching him while achieving your orgasm. “Come for me like a good girl.”
And you did. Screaming his name, digging your nails on his skin, waving your body as the surge of your breathtaking climax rushed over it.
You felt Heeseung’s dick throbbing right before he filled up the condom with his release together with the beautifulest moan of the night, the one where he said your name lasciviously, hoarse and intimate in your ear.
Heeseung’s exhausted body collapsed on yours, his sweaty skin clinging to you and yet you gave no care. Your focus was on catching your breath, trying to ground yourself with your sight still hazy from the intensity of your climax. 
“Holy shit,” you managed to whisper as you kept panting.
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung immediately replied, a small hint of guilt hidden in his husky voice.
“For giving me the best orgasm of my life?” You breathed out, chuckling. The post-orgasm high made you feel like jelly.
He laughed. The sound warming your chest and also helping you to calm down quickly.
“Did I hurt you?” Heeseung questioned with concern, looking at you.
You shook your head in response and he smiled. Your hooded eyes followed Heeseung’s gorgeous figure, going quickly to the bathroom to discard the condom and back to the bed, laying down next to you.
“I wasn’t planning on going that hard with you at first, but–”
“Yes, you were.” You interrupted with a playful smile. “And I’m glad you did. It was amazing, Heeseung,” the compliment slipped out of your mouth with ease as you caressed his hair and then his face.
Heeseung let out what sounded like a relieved sigh, as he pressed a peck on your cheek, then the corner of your lips before sucking your lower lip and kissing you properly. 
“It was my pleasure, Y/N.” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you again with a sweetness that seemed impossible after what just happened, but you knew it was real, because he offered you the same tenderness since day one through his eyes.
You found yourself snuggling on his chest and he hugged you warmly. There was something in Heeseung's acts that exhaled intimacy in a way it scared you, knowing deep down if he kept treating you like that, you would inevitably grow attached to his presence. 
You got lost in your thoughts for a while, torn in between the warmth of his body touching you with care and the sinking feeling of his inevitable departure. Although Heeseung seemed to be an amazing man, nothing would stop him from simply leaving, especially when there was no mention of commitment from any of you or whatsoever.
Nonetheless, Heeseung's connection with you appeared to grow stronger each second you spent together, because his first words after the long silence were “Can I get your number?”
You lifted your head from his torso, a bit flabbergasted by his sudden, unexpected question. You had to blink a few times and watch his bambi eyes show you curiosity with your reaction to know he wasn’t messing around. 
“Sure. If you promise not to leak it out.” The only answer he offered you was his pinky for a pinky promise, to which you took in with a serious face. “You can’t break it, yeah?” And he laughed.
“Cross my heart, I won’t.”
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The following three days felt like something in between a k-drama and a fever dream – too perfect to feel real. 
Heeseung had work during the mornings and the afternoons, meaning he couldn’t be with you the whole day – unwillingly, of course. To which you thought it was great, since it allowed you to hang out with Yunjin and Jay, and also to concentrate on your job, rehearsing for the next performances alongside your castmates, warming up your vocals with your teacher, re-reading the lines just in case. 
However, the anticipation tightened in your stomach with every buzz of your phone with a notification, heart racing reading Heeseung’s name on the screen. 
“I wanna see you soon.” “Can’t wait for tonight.” “Missing your pretty face, ngl.”
His simple texts did no good to help your inner battle, nor his perfect mannerism for caring about your health, your voice, your sleeping, the small things that sometimes neither you cared that much.
The fear of getting attached extremely fast to someone and having your heart broken was almost suffocating, and somehow Heeseung managed to wipe your thoughts away within every encounter.
There weren’t too many after the night you spent together, but each had a distinctive situation that deepened your connection.
Monday, he picked you up at your hotel after work for a small dinner at his favorite restaurant. You found yourself thirsting over his extremely good looking figure when he showed up in a simple, yet mesmerizing black button-down shirt with the first three buttons undone revealing a hint of his tanned skin beneath, and his usual heart-melting smile.
“Ready for tonight?” He asked you with a beaming face that filled your heart with warmth and a cocky grin that later on, led you to ride his dick until your legs burned after you both reached the chosen hotel for the night. 
You were nothing but astonished with how deeply invested you got in Heeseung, longing for his presence every minute. The chemistry between you both was electric, the sexual tension almost palpable pairing in the air, blended perfectly with the easygoing atmosphere you always shared. Heeseung fulfilled your desires easily, as though he was reading his favorite book – you – knowing every line by heart. 
The second time you met was in the middle the following day, when he decided to spend his lunch hour with you, sharing a meal as you casually chatted about everything. Heeseung had a comforting way of listening to you with softened and attentive eyes, nodding along, occasionally adding his own point of view with a relaxed charm. Not to mention how smart he sounded as he talked with his soft tone and how beautiful his laughter sounded when he genuinely enjoyed a joke. 
“I didn’t know you enjoyed cooking that much,” he remarked at some point, his eyes lightening up after you shared your hobby of experimenting out new foods just to get their recipes and try doing it by yourself in your kitchen every once and a while during your free time.
You had no idea connections could be developed so quickly with someone as you did with Heeseung, how your energies and personalities complemented in a way that made every interaction feel effortless, as if words didn’t needed to be fully spoken in order to understand each other.
Later the same day, Heeseung met you at night again. He timidly admitted he hadn’t prepared much for the evening, but ended up making you the happiest woman on the earth by driving you both to a dinosaur museum exhibition after learning your fascination with them.
As you explored the exhibit, your eyes sparkled with excitement, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at your enthusiasm. You animatedly explained the different species ignoring completely the small text next to every skeleton – Heeseung doing the same, since listening to your voice sounded way more interesting than reading.
Your tone raised with joy as you pointed out the massive skeleton of the stegosaurus, eyes gleaming with love, your big smile making Heeseung’s heart falter some beats. 
“You look so cute,” Heeseung said, chuckling softly, his hands hidden in his jacket’s pocket while tenderly watching you bouncing on your feet.
You beamed back at him. “It’s so interesting and cool to imagine those big boys walking on earth before us. Like, we are not literally, but somehow stepping on places they once stepped too.”
Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your glowing figure and at that moment, he recognized. He fell in love with you.
Not only for the talented actress on the stage, the amazing singer with an angelic voice, the famous performer who loved her fans with her whole heart.
Heeseung fell mainly for the genuine, happy, confident and warm woman in front of him. The one who easily sent chills through his spine just for laughing at his stupid jokes. The one who made the air thicker with her strong presence, just to stumble on her own legs and chuckle at it. The one who knew what she wanted and how she wanted. The one who secretly shared she was good at painting and handicrafts. 
He could spend nights in hotel rooms hearing your moans and pants, feeling your intimate touches, kissing you mouth and any other place on your body he wanted to, but nothing compared to the fulfillment feeling spreading inside his chest when seeing you so pure, with raw emotions like that. 
That night ended up like a date. He left you at your hotel and went home after kissing you slowly and tenderly at the entrance of the building, wishing you a good night's sleep and for you to take care.
It was your last day in Seoul before heading to the next city with the musical, and the bittersweet feeling weighed heavily on your heart. You were struggling with the drowning sentiment of leaving Heeseung behind, the idea of not knowing when, or even if he wanted to keep on seeing you made the lump in your throat hard to swallow.
Your insecurities grew heavier each second before the encounter. You hoped for Heeseung to come up with the sweet sorrow and necessary conversation first, since your messy, anxious thoughts did nothing to help you go through it without assuming the worst.
“Hi, pretty.” His sudden appearance startled you, drawing your gaze from the distant random point on the street you were staring at. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his hands finding their comfort place on your waist, grounding you.
A smile spreads across your face, eyes brightening up with relief.
“Hi.” You greeted back, leaning to kiss him on the lips, pouring all the affection you felt into that simple gesture. 
You wished Heeseung could sense how deep you were falling for him, quickly becoming a vital part of your daily life in such a small amount of time.
“Are you okay?” He asked with concern, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You seemed a bit oblivious.”
You shook your head, not only as a response to his question but to wipe away your confused thoughts. 
“I’m better now.” You said, which wasn’t a lie.
“Great,” Heeseung whispered with a smile against your head before kissing the top of it and then held your hand to walk you to his car. “I’ve prepared something different for today.” He said with a cheekily grin, the playful glint on his gaze making you squint your eyes, suspicious. He laughed at your reaction, then you quirked an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah?” You smirked, curiosity instantly replacing your melancholic inner thoughts.
“I hope you like it.” He kissed the back of your hand before opening the car door for you to enter.
The drive was calm, Heeseung eased your mind without even noticing he did. Just the smell of his cologne and his warm touches on your thigh whenever he stopped at a red light, and the habitual chatting that got you invested with ease worked perfectly to sooth you. 
At some point Heeseung nonchalantly revealed he was applying to switch to work remotely, and you genuinely cheered since for the last few days he complained about the amount of hours he had to drive, and the home-office modality helped him to have more free time. 
His own information faded out by himself in the following conversation as he changed topics, you barely noticed his sly expression whenever he glimpsed at your yapping figure, gesturing about how annoyed you felt when you had to do group work during your college. 
“What’s that?” Your eyes sparkled with the colorful atmosphere you were approaching, your whole body perking up as you watched some stalls passing by the window as Heeseung searched for a place to park.
Heeseung chuckled, drifting his eyes between the road and you, but not answering your question.
Then the realization hits. You shot Heeseung with one of your bright smiles, that got him almost giggling just by seeing it.
“You’re insane.”
“I thought it could be a good place for you to learn some recipes.”
And just like that, you fell even harder for him.
Heeseung took you to a cozy outdoor market filled with food stalls, a few street foods trucks and local artisans. The atmosphere was lively, with music playing in the background and laughter echoing around you.
As you stepped out of the car with his help, the scents of diverse foods flooded your airways and you almost groaned with pleasure, your stomach growling with hunger as your mouth watered. 
Heeseung held your hand the whole time you wandered from stall to stall, not even knowing where to start, but sampling everything from savory snacks to sweet treats, your senses dancing with the flavors and scents, doing some random love shots with Heeseung. 
He didn’t complained a second about the constant walking. To watch you lose yourself while tasting things, making pleasant frowns and doing little dances whenever you liked something, paid back any sore he would have to deal with on the next day.
Some people recognized you, asking for a picture to which you politely declined, and Heeseung instantly gave you a confused look, since you usually made time to give them a little attention.
You searched for a free table for you both to sit, and as you stared at the three delicious small dishes in front of you not knowing which one to prove first, Heeseung spoke up.
“Isn’t that your favorite?” And then he pointed to the tteokbokki, after reading your indecisive frown, biting his own food. “Start with this one.”
You looked up at him with shock, then your gaze softened. It was Heeseung after all, the man who paid attention to every detail of you. However, your still pulse increased, your cheeks heating. 
“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke the silence after a while again, and you nodded. “Is there a reason for you to refuse to take pictures with your fans today?” 
The question sounded curious, genuine at it most, free from the weight of any judgments. Heeseung was trying to understand your decision rather than impose his opinion on it.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” you explained softly, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 
He tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing. “How does that make me uncomfortable?” 
You shrugged, taking a bite of your corn dog before answering. “I don’t know. People who hang out with me that aren’t from my area often don't feel comfortable whenever I stop to talk to my fans.”
Heeseung raised his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the revelation. Of course people had their rights of being uncomfortable with certain situations, however, being friends with you meant knowing your personality and how much you enjoyed those small interactions. So it sounded a bit odd to hear you say that.
“Well, I don’t mind at all.” He said with a gentle smile. “Actually, it’s sweet to see you interacting with them.” 
Your lips curved into a genuine smile at Heeseung’s reassuring words, especially because at some point he was a fan of yours, so to hear his mind on that conversation hit slightly deeper.
“Thanks, it means a lot.” You mumbled. “But if you ever feel awkwardly left out–
“No.” He shushed you with a portion of his food, shoving into your mouth with a playful laugh, making you roll your eyes and giggle.
The rest of the night went as comfortably as possible, filled with laughter and playful teasing moments. The thought of your departure on the next day haunted both of you, but you managed to brush away whenever your eyes met, the atmosphere softening again. 
After you finished eating and drinking, Heeseung guided you to a quiet, secluded spot near the market. It was a small lake in the middle of a park, where a few other couples shared intimate affection as well.
Heeseung wrapped his arms around you from behind as you held on the railing overlooking the water. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm and soothing embrace caused a heavy sigh to escape your lips, and tears began to sting the corner of your eyes.
“You know, it's always good to come back home.” You murmured, voice tinged with nostalgia while you admired the peaceful view. Gently resting your back on Heeseung’s chest, you added. “And it's always bittersweet when I have to leave.” Your voice got stuck in your throat, heart pounding in uncertainty for your following days. “It became so much harder to leave now, Heeseung.” You admitted with a trembling voice, the tears quietly slipping down your cheeks
You felt Heeseung’s sweet lips touching your neck to place a gentle kiss before he turned you to face him. Kind hands caressing your face, cozy eyes eveloping your words with warmth and understanding. You felt loved. And it was hurting so much.
Heeseung cleaned your tears with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your eyelids afterward.
“We can find a way,” he whispered, his own voice failing to stay steady. “I’m too attached to you at this point.” He admitted with a shy smile. “I know I said I’d make your days unforgettable, but now I’m the one who is unable to forget you. And I don’t want to even try forgetting you.”
A wave of relief rushed your body, happy for being on the same page, glad that Heeseung listened to you, overjoyed he shared similar feelings. You sobbed, snuggling closer to his body in order to feel him more, burying your face on his neck, the scent making you cry even harder. 
Heeseung hugged you tightly, yet, gently, his arms involving you in a fond, safe bubble.
“I can visit you during my free time,” he said to reassure you.
“I’ll come to visit you too.” Your voice came out muffled due to your position, so you reluctantly pulled away from his embrace to search for his eyes. They were red, as if he was holding back his own tears. “I mean, I don’t live too far from here, the problem is my work–”
Heeseung silenced you by attaching his lips on yours, not wanting to hear your “but’s” and worries at the moment. He wanted to envision a good future for both of you, and also he was taking advantage to kiss you once more.
The shared touch was laced with an anticipated longing, slow and bittersweet, still full of affection. Your breath hitched while mingling with the soft sounds of contentment, hands exploring each other’s bodies, cherishing every inch before the inevitable departure of yours.
“I’m afraid you won’t get used to my work,” you whispered, relieving one of your biggest insecurities when Heeseung broke the contact to catch his breath.
“What do you mean?” He asked, slightly breathless, mind hazy from your kiss. God, he really wished you both managed a way to get back together, if not he would go insane without your sweet lips.
“It’s a demanding job, as you know.” You explained, playing with his ear lobe. Heeseung closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “I’m always traveling, I’m always going to places, constantly on the move… Even visiting can be difficult.”
“I know,” he replied softly, still not exactly understanding your full point. Yes, he would miss you, but he was sure it could be managed.
Despite, from the start he knew you were a busy woman, barely having time to yourself as you told him a few times. And he was willing to adjust some things in his life if that meant having you by his side. 
Heeseung didn’t said anything more, making you wonder. Would he back off after all of that? Or that meant he was fully devoted?
“And it doesn’t bother you?” You asked. 
“No,” he replied sincerely, opening his eyes just to lock them onto yours, as he brushed a little strand of hair from your face before he cupped one of your cheeks. “It’ll not. If you promise you’ll always come back to me.”
And you would. After all, by the end of the day, all you could see was his eyes only.
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Heeseung grew attached to watch you. Not only when owning the stage and captivating the audience with your talented acting skills, but in any other moment as well.
His eyes followed your every move, from the moment you frowned while waking up to the moment you fell on his arms, panting after him fucking you hard.
Yeah, you both managed ways of getting back together, with his now remote work, traveling around with you became easy. He missed his friends every once, and that led you both to constantly go back to Seoul and spend some days visiting, especially to see Jake and Sunoo, who freaked out when he discovered – through instagram! – his friends were dating one of his biggest inspirations. 
Now, in your brand new purchased shared apartment, Heeseung eyes tracked you wetting your lips while humming the melody of your upcoming musical, while doing some work on your computer. It was a routine he definitely could get used to.
And as always, you felt the sweet weight of his gaze, smiling even before searching for him.
“What?” you asked, laughing at how Heeseung positioned himself beside you on the couch; his cheek resting on his hand, elbow propped on the armrest, as he shot you a lovestruck expression – soft smile and tender eyes. 
“I love you.” 
Months ago, those words would have taken you by surprise.
You remember vividly how flustered you became, heart racing, stuttering on your own words, unable to cohesively say anything back. Heeseung joked about how an amazing actress managed to lose composure and not talk like that, and after you slapped his shoulder playfully, you kissed him passionately, mumbling what could have been a ‘I love you too’.
This time it didn’t surprise you, still, left you momentarily speechless. You would never get used to the electrifying wave washing over your body whenever you heard Heeseung declaring his love for you.
Just like you always did, you felt the heat rising to your cheeks under his intense gaze. Closing your computer, you leaned closer, settling yourself comfortably on his lap.
“I love you too, Hee,” you replied softly and sincerely.
You smiled, before kissing him.
Heeseung’s embrace was your heaven. Heeseung’s lips were your hell. And in between that, he kept his eyes on you. Always.
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imagineweasley · 2 months ago
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Sirius Black’s Guide to Overreacting
Remus Lupin x reader, Sirius Black older brother
summary: you are sirius's little sister and you are dating remus, but keeping it from your protective older brother. james "accidentally" lets it slip and sirius is not happy.
warnings: some mention of sex?? but also not really but a little bit.
y/n: your name
word count: 1.4k
submit requests here! | masterlist
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author's note: inspired by ross finding out chandler is with monica in friends!
--
"REMUS LUPIN I WILL TORTURE YOU SLOWLY UNTIL YOU DIE A SLOW PAINFUL DEATH!" Remus and y/n sprang apart when they heard Sirius bellowing down the hall. The few others who were also in the common room jumped as well. Sirius never used Remus's actual name unless he was angry, and this was the angriest y/n had seen him since his Dumbledore chocolate frog card had been stolen. The couple exchanged worried looks while the Fat Lady's indignant cries mingled with Sirius's yells, "MR. BLACK, YOU SLAM MY DOOR ONE MORE TIME AND YOU WILL BE SLEEPING IN THE HA--" her voice cut off as the door closed.
Sirius emerged, the picture of fury. His eyebrows were furrowed, his forehead vein was pulsing violently, and his fists were balled up, knuckles white. Y/n thought for a second that steam would actually start pouring out of his ears. He stomped towards the couple, or rather, towards Remus; his wide, dark eyes were fixed on him. In an attempt to look casual, Remus turned and leaned over the back of the couch to look at y/n's red-faced brother.
"What's up, Pad--"
"What's up?! WHAT'S UP?" The couple flinched and inched toward each other in fear.
"Merlin's beard Sirius, what--"
He whirled towards y/n, pointing his finger accusingly. "AND YOU! YOU KNOW WHAT'S UP TOO!"
"Don't talk to her like that!" Remus instinctively sprang up to protect y/n from her raging brother, even though they all knew Sirius wouldn't do anything to her. Sirius's black hair slapped him in the face as he immediately spun back around to glare at his friend.
The yelling triggered y/n's younger sibling instincts to poke the bear and see how far she could push him. She cooed, "Well, considering you haven't told us what's going on, I actually don't know what's going on, lovely brother." She then smiled a sickeningly sweet smile. Remus groaned.
Sirius's eyes grew even darker as he huffed and puffed, and as he opened his mouth to continue, the door swung open again and the Fat Lady's shrieks filled the rooms once more. "MR. POTTER, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU WOULD LIKE TO JOIN MR. BLACK IN SLEEPING OUTSI--"
James sauntered in with his usual bored expression and Peter scurried in after him.
"Padfoot, I thought I heard your melodic tunes." James stuck his hand in his pockets and leaned against the wall. "Sorry I couldn't catch him you two, he really is quick when he wants to be." James addressed Remus and y/n, taking in the sight of Remus still standing protectively in front of y/n.
Y/n narrowed her eyes at James. "James," she said in a warning tone, "What did you do?" James shrugged in response and ambled over to the nearest couch. He flopped onto the cushions and took out a snitch from his pocket, and began tossing it up in the air and catching it. Peter wrung his hands in the corner, looking nervously at everyone.
"Well..." another throw and catch, "I might have accidentally let it slip that perhaps you and Moony have been -- well, fucking."
Y/n's eyes grew wide in horror and she began to stomp towards him, but Remus beat her to it. Blood rushed to his face in anger as he flew over to James to thump him.
"James Fleamont Potter, I swear to MERLIN you are such a GIT!" James merely looked up indifferently at his glowering friend.
"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE MAD, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?" The lamps shook and candles rattled in their holders at the noise.
"SIrius!" Y/n stepped forward cautiously, but he didn't seem to hear her. She tried again, "SIRIUS!" and failed once more, and on the last "SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" He whirled around and scowled at her.
"WHAT!"
"JAMES DIDN'T TELL YOU THE WHOLE THING!"
Sirius's eyes narrowed and a slight look of confusion took over. "Explain, then. Right now."
Y/n sighed and chose her words carefully. "Remus and I -- we're not--" she grimaced, "Fucking. I mean yes, I guess we are, that's what happens when you--" She then started rambling but skidded to a halt upon seeing the fire return to my brother's eyes, "That's -- what I mean is, Remus and I... we've been in a relationship for a while."
The whole of the common room could hear the wheels creaking in Sirius's head as he processed y/n's words. The whole of the common room was silent, and the other students' eyes bounced back and forth between Sirius, Remus, and y/n, as if watching a three way tennis game.
"A... a relationship?"
Remus took the opportunity to jump in and explain. "Yes! It's not nothing, we haven't been just hooking up. I'm... I'm in love with your sister--" you blushed a bright pink, "--and I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner but I just didn't want our friendship to change."
The silence was agonizingly deafening. Sirius stared at Remus, and y/n's heart pounded as she tried to read her brother's face.
"A relationship." Remus nodded furiously. "So... how long..."
"About seven months now." Sirius turned slowly back towards y/n. "Seven... seven?" Y/n nodded meekly and waited for his response.
"How did you... how did you two hide..." Sirius trailed off. No one spoke. The only movement in the room was the flickering fire.
Sirius stared blankly at the wall for a few moments before speaking again. "Are you happy, y/n?"
"Of course I am Siri, this is the happiest I have ever been, and Remus really treats me so well. I love him, Siri." Now it was Remus's turn to blush. The knot in y/n's stomach uncoiled as Sirius's gaze softened.
"Alright then..." he nodded resolutely, and then the most unexpected thing happened.
Sirius began jumping up and down, punching the air in delight, and he yelled, "MY SISTER AND MY BEST FRIEND! MY BABY SISTER AND MY BEST FRIEND!" He pulled y/n to him and jumped her over to Remus, who was staring, stunned.
"COME ON YOU GUYS! THIS IS A CELEBRATION! MY SISTER AND MY BEST FRIEND!" His other arm was now around Remus, jerking him around with each jump. Remus and y/n looked at each other bewildered, and then burst into laughter. They started jumping with him, squealing, and then jumped over to Peter and dragged him into the circle.
Sirius broke out into a loud and off-tune rendition of the Hogwarts school song, "HOGWARTS, HOGWARTS, HOGGY WARTY HOGWARTS, TEACH US SOMETHING PLEEEEASE! JAMES ARE YOU HEARING THIS?"
Y/n looked over at James, who had frozen on his couch, the snitch flapping violently in his hand. "Come here James! Come join us!" After a beat, James threw his head back in laughter and sprang to his feet to join the circle. In all the excitement, the snitch had escaped from his hand and fluttered above their heads. The group all jumped up and down for a few more minutes while Sirius finished the song, and then panting, they slowed to a halt.
Remus grinned and wiped some sweat from his forehead. "I guess James wasn't completely wrong, I mean, it did start when we got drunk and--" Remus's eyes widened into the size of fanged frisbees as he slowly realized what had slipped out. Y/n's face dropped into her hands.
"I'm just kidding! I'm just... kidding..." Remus backed away carefully, his palms outstretched in submission. Sirius followed him menacingly. He was still panting, but now more so from rage than from leaping around.
Y/n threw her hands up in defeat and sighed, "Oh, Remus, my sweet, sweet idiot, I think you should start running." Remus looked at y/n in horror before taking off.
In the blink of an eye, Sirius was chasing Remus around the common room, Remus yelling, "WAIT A SECOND, LISTEN HERE, LISTEN PADFOOT--"
Laughing, y/n flopped onto the couch between James and Peter, where they had collapsed after the jumping fiasco. She punched his arm playfully, "You're an asshole, you know that?" James laughed and shrugged, feigning innocence.
They watched the chase and James wondered, "How long do you s'pose they'll be going for?"
Peter smiled, amused, and replied, "I don't know but they seem to be going strong to me."
Y/n waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, we'll just let them tire themselves out." And they watched the boys sprint around the common room for the next half hour.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month ago
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Loving You Was Never Hard
Part 1
Wandanat x fem!reader
Summary: After you get kicked out of your apartment by your emotionally abusive ex your neighbor helps you by calling his sister who happily takes you in with her wife.
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: emotional abuse, abandonment, anxiety, distress, crying, breakdown, nightmares
Authors note: I had trouble starting this, but I like where it's going so far. If you want to see more of this please let me know.
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“I'm done! Get out! Get out Y/N!” your girlfriend, well now ex, yelled, no spat at you. Shoving you and your belongings outside of your apartment. You had tried to speak, to fix things. You had no one and nowhere to go. She had made you move across the country for her job, said she'd take care of you; that her job would pay more than enough for you to be her perfect housewife. 
You'd tried and tried, but no matter what you did she'd find something wrong with it. Some way to criticize it. The food wasn't cooked right, the laundry wasn't folded right, you moved her favorite mug and it wasn't where she could just grab it. 
It always ended in a fight and now she was leaving you with nothing. You actually had nothing.
Tears spilled over as you shoved your clothes into your bag. You heard a door down the hall open, but paid it no mind until you saw running sneakers in your peripheral. Your eyes ran up, seeing a thin man, silver hair and blue eyes. He was in athleisure wear. 
“Are you okay?” He asked, an accent in his voice of eastern European. You just stared up at him like it's obvious that you aren't. The whole building just heard the knock down drag out fight you had. “Sorry I wasn't sure what else to say. Do you have some place to go?” He asked as he crouched down, handing you a few things just out of your reach.
“No…” you finally respond, not looking into his eyes. 
“I don't have any room in my place, mine is a studio, but I have a sister who has a guest room. Her and her wife are really nice. I know you don't know them or me really, but it's better than the streets of New York.” You bite your lip knowing he isn't wrong. 
You nod and he pulls out his phone, bringing up a number that has a picture of a red head, with the contact name “12 minutes younger” a half smile forming on your lips. She's his twin. 
“Sestra…” he starts speaking a language you don't understand. Your brows furrow together, hoping to understand or catch something that sounds familiar. No such thing happens before he hangs up. “She'll be here in ten minutes.” 
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
You were nervous when the red head pulled up to the apartment building. Your neighbor, who you learned was named Pietro, filled you in a bit on his sister, Wanda, and her wife, Natasha. You were a bit nervous to meet them, but Wanda showed up alone. 
Her voice was sweet and thick like honey; accented just like her twin brother. The two once again talked in the language you didn't know. Feeling like a small child as you held your bag, waiting for her to finish talking. 
“Okay Malyshka let's head home.” Wanda spoke to you. The word home felt foreign. Your home had been those four walls up on the third floor of this apartment. It felt like a rock in your stomach as you got into the passenger seat, putting your bag on the floor between your feet and buckling up. 
Wanda's car was nice, a 2025 Audi A5 Sportsback. The exterior was a beautiful red and an all black interior. The seats were leather, and it smelled like a new car, but you took notice of the air freshener clip on the front vent. 
“My brother told me a little of what happened, but obviously he doesn't know everything. I'm sorry for whatever happened to you tonight and any other bad night Malyshka. Whenever you wanna talk about it we can. Or if you don't, that's fine too.” Wanda gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and took in a breath. “Our home will be your home until you find a place to be.” 
“I um…I don't have a job or anything, so I'm gonna have to find one.” You spoke softly, looking down at your lap and pretending to play with a string. ____
“That's okay. We'll take care of you.” Her voice sounds genuine, but it makes you nauseous and it feels hard to swallow. It suddenly feels too hot in the car so you roll the window down, crossing your arms as you lean against it. The cool, damp night air helps you feel a little better. You close your eyes letting the night air hit your heated face. “Almost there, malyshka.” she says softly, it wraps around your tired head and your eyes flutter open. Wanda turns into a neighborhood with big houses, ones you knew were for some of the richest people in New York. Did they really live here? You wracked your brain trying to think of the names Wanda and Natasha, but nothing came to mind of anyone. 
Wanda pulled into the spacious garage there was a truck that was also red and a few motorcycles. One that was a classic and one that looked more like a sports bike. The garage was neat and organized as you looked around, following behind Wanda as your heart raced in your chest. 
“Moya lyubov! We're home!” Wanda called out. You looked around, jaw dropping as you looked around the house was opulent. As you looked around it didn’t feel cold like you expected it to be, rather it felt clean, but lived in. The living room had a soft looking sectional, pillows and throw blankets both on it and in a basket next to a stone fireplace. There were pictures and candles adorning the top of the fireplace with a big TV hanging from the wall. 
The kitchen was beautiful with dark green cabinets, a white stone backsplash, and wooden floors that carried over from the living room. The countertops were also wooden and a matching island sat in the middle. 
You didn’t hear her before you saw her, making you jump when a second redhead appeared next to you. You hid on the other side of Wanda who chuckled. 
“It’s okay malyshka. This is my wife, Natasha. She’s light footed.” Wanda assured, putting a hand on your lower back. Her hand was cold against you as you moved forward. Natasha was beautiful right now. Her hair was straight, but pulled back into a ponytail with some loose baby hairs on the sides of her face, she wore a tight, grey tank top with loose fitting sweat pants. She had clearly been ready for bed when Wanda got the call from her brother. You looked back at Wanda and now taking a second look she looked ready for bed too. A loose fitting t-shirt and leggings. 
Suddenly you felt bad, another pit forming in your stomach as you gripped at the hem of your shirt, much like a toddler would. Natasha didn’t let you dwell on it long though. 
“I made up the guest room for you. Come on krasivaya. Let me show you.” Natasha spoke up, gesturing to you to follow. You did so without much hesitation. Following behind her with Wanda taking up the rear with the rest of your things. 
The room was just as beautiful as the kitchen, the same green spilling into the walls. There was a built-in bookshelf and above it was a skylight directly hitting the bed; the moonlight outside spilling in. A few pictures hung above the bed and there was a slightly smaller tv than the one in the living room facing the bed so you could watch comfortably in bed. Just to the right of the TV was a door to a bathroom. You’d have your own bathroom which was something you hadn’t had in years. 
“This is all yours. Anything in this room while you’re here is yours. If there's anything you need Wanda and I have a little whiteboard on the fridge. Feel free to add whatever you want or need to it.” Natasha looked at you, like she was expecting an answer. 
“Oh uh yes thank you. I’m really sorry for intruding like this.” Your voice got quiet and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at either of the older women. 
You felt Wanda’s hand on you once more, but this time on your shoulder, “It’s okay Malyshka. I’m glad Pietro called me and that you’re safe with us now. Just get some rest for tonight okay?” Her voice was softer, more motherly suddenly. It wrapped around you like a warm blanket. You simply nodded and thankfully Wanda smiled at you. “If you need us for any reason,” She moved slightly out of the doorway and pointed diagonally across the hall to a door on the other side. “Tasha and I will be right in there. That’s our room.” You nod once more at her words, but knew you wouldn’t bother them, you already felt like you were burdening them by being here. 
The two left you alone, closing the door behind them as you looked around once more before rummaging for something comfy from your bag and going to take a quick shower. The hot water felt good against your skin as you let out a sigh and finally broke down. Crying out for the loss of everything you had known. You knew things had been getting bad, but you never saw it coming how she’d isolate you like that. How she’d nitpick everything you did on a daily basis. You only ever wanted to be a good girlfriend and show your love and appreciation for her. You crouched down in the shower, holding your knees to your chest as the water cascaded over you, mixing with the salty tears. It was over.
The bed felt like a marshmallow you were sinking into once you finally got yourself into bed. The blankets and comforter were soft and the pillows were also very plush. You don’t realize it, but you drift off to sleep…
You're in your apartment. The furniture is where it used to be, but the walls seem to lean inward, pressing down on you. The air is thick, stifling, as if it's trying to hold you in place.
Then, you hear it—her voice.
"You're so dramatic," she says, tone sickly sweet. She’s standing in the doorway, somehow taller, darker, like a shadow stretching too far. You want to move, to run, but your feet feel rooted to the floor. Like you’re sinking into molasses 
"I don't know why you always do this," she sighs, stepping closer. "You're so sensitive. It’s honestly exhausting."
Her words wrap around your chest like vines, tightening with every breath. You try to speak, to tell her no, to tell her to leave you alone, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.
"You wouldn't last a day without me," she whispers, and suddenly her hands are on your shoulders—heavy, cold, pulling you down.
The walls are closer now, the room shrinking. Her grip tightens, fingers pressing into your skin like bruises waiting to bloom.
"Say it," she coos. "Say you need me."
You shake your head, thrashing against her, but your limbs move like they're underwater. Your vision blurs, the edges of the room fading into darkness.
"Say it." her voice is everywhere now, inside your head, beneath your skin.
You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to wake up—
And then you do.
You're in that plush bed, drenched in sweat, heart slamming against your ribs. The room is quiet, empty. But her words linger like an echo, a ghost of something that once held you captive. You sit up, looking around with just the moonlight there as your light. You check your phone. It’s four in the morning and you find yourself getting up from the bed. It feels like too much. Like you need someone else's presence. You find yourself standing in front of their door. It’s cracked slightly and you can hear soft voices talking. 
Your heart pounds in your chest, you want to knock, to have that human connection, but you hesitate. You don’t know either of them. They’re letting you stay here out of pity, but as if by magic the door creaks open without any touch. You stand there in the doorway frozen. Both women are looking at you.
“Are you okay malyshka?” Wanda’s voice is still soft, heavy with sleep. You want to speak, but words feel too hard right now. “Come here malyshka.” Wanda pat the bed, just at the end. Their bed was huge. Probably a California King. You moved over, sitting at the edge trying to take up the least amount of space. Wanda smiled fondly at you before going back to the conversation her and Natasha were having. 
You closed your eyes and listened as they spoke, some words in a language you didn’t understand, but for some reason it just helped you relax more. Wanda’s voice was soft and warm like a blanket and Natasha’s was thick and heavy like it was ready to protect from everything it could. Slowly you fell back asleep listening to the two older women talk.
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mossangelll · 4 months ago
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what arcane characters would be like at christmas!
inspired by @cosmicporos whose work is here <3
i’m in the christmas spirit and wanted to do a sillier post on what some arcane characters are like at this time of the year! once christmas and exams are over, i’ll get back to working through requests ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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Jinx:
jinx gifts you something homemade, maybe a scrapbook of all the things you did together throughout the year?
aw omg i bet she’s amazing at taking secret pics…there’s so many embarrassing pictures of you in there but you can’t even hate it when she doodles love hearts right next to them :’)
all the pictures inside would be meticulously dated with a corresponding memory to go underneath
she wants to show you how much she cares!
jinx would love anything you give her, but she would swoon if you got her materials to make more chomper bombs - she loves how accepting and enthusiastic you are of her hobbies
jinx’s favourite holiday activity is decorating!
she loves getting into a festive spirit where it’s seen as more acceptable to be goofy and childlike?
she’s very thrifty so i feel like most of the decor is stuff you guys make together in front of a warm fire while it snows outside hehe
makes cranberry and popcorn garlands which you guys end up eating by the end of the week
there’s just plain string all over the place 😭
obviously there will be christmas themed graffiti
instead of a star or angel on top of the tree, she makes miniature figurines of you two hugging to stick on top
she is incredibly down bad for you and loves the holidays because she gets to be extra sentimental
gets a stupidly skinny christmas tree that barely has enough branches to wrap decorations around but she wouldn’t have it any other way
jinx doesn’t want to take everything tooooo seriously
jinx’s favourite christmas song is i wish it could be christmas everyday
Vi:
vi gifts you your own leather jacket! it's second hand and a bit worn through but she tried her best
you always spoke about how much you loved her jacket and now you two can match
irons and pins on patches of your favourite bands all over the jacket
spends so much time into making sure it looks perfect for you
i can see you two wearing each other’s jackets a lot so you can smell like one another
best investment ever - now everyone knows you two are made for each other
she would love it if you gifted her boxing gloves in her signature colour!
vi’s favourite holiday activity is sledding!
she probably uses an old sled her and jinx made together when they were younger
it’s seen better days but she doesn’t want to give it up anytime soon
better wear a helmet in case the whole sled comes apart as you ride it 😭
she’s the kind of person to convince you to let her push the sled down a steep hill… she cheers as you scream in fear
when you asked her if it was safe she winked and told you to trust her 😐
big mistake but how can you say no to her???
you both land in a heap of snow at the bottom, laughing so hard you have to catch your breath as snowflakes melts into your hair
she rolls you around in the snow and kisses you for a loooooong time hehe
vi’s favourite christmas song is baby it’s cold outside
Ekko:
ekko gifts you a painting he made of you!
he’s very nervous when he does, watching for every little reaction on your face - he just wants to know that he did a good job and made you happy
how could you not like it? he captures your likeness so well it feels like looking in a very flattering mirror
you can tell how much love and thought he put into it
he would love it if you gifted him more face paint and hair dye - even better if you offer to do it for him!
ekko’s favourite holiday activity is playing in the snow!
snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, making snow angels - all of it!
this guy LOCKS IN when it comes to snowball fights
honestly sometimes you want to say no bcs he gets a bit too committed and you feel like you’re getting hunted down 😭
but then he promises to make you hot chocolate when you get inside so it works out in the end
accidentally pelts you in the face with a solid snowball and his face drops
he runs over to where you got knocked over and is worriedly checking you all over to make sure you’re not hurt
that’s when you shove snow down his back and run away in a fit of giggles
he goes still before he starts to chase after you - you both launch snow at each other for house
yeah, you both get ill after that 😭
ekko’s favourite christmas song is santa clause is coming to town
Jayce: 
jayce gifts you jewellery he forged himself :3
i can see him dragging you along to the workshop, making you watch him be all sweaty and hot for hours (you’re not complaining)
if you ask what exactly he’s making there he brushes it off as a custom piece of equipment needed for his experiments - little do you know it’s actually gifts for you
when he does gift it to you he has the most smug look in his face
who else is doing gifts like him?? exactly 🙂‍↕️
he would love it if you gave him new tools he can use when he’s doing his forging!
jayce’s favourite holiday activity is making gingerbread houses!
mainly sneakily nibbling away at little pieces of you (you notice)
you two end up ditching the house and smear icing all over each other
he licks the icing off your cheek
you tell him how gross he is but he’s not fooled when you’re blushing and giggling at his antics
after you two finish your “break”, you get to work on finally completing the gingerbread house
doesn’t let you leave the kitchen until you’re done - he made BLUEPRINTS for the house
it ends up being more like a mansion when you’re done
he’s cheesing so hard when it’s done and he makes you pose with the house
he posts it on his instagram story with some dumb caption (“look at my sweet treat and the gingerbread house we made 😜”) and you only find out when your friends send it to you
jayce’s favourite christmas song is all i want for christmas is you
Viktor:
viktor gifts you customised skincare he made just for you!
he is more physics-minded but after hearing you complain about how all the products you tried just weren’t doing it for you, he decides to step up
spends so much time consulting chemists at the academy for help creating the products
“subtly” asks you questions about your skin so as not to give himself away
“your skin looks quite dry today, would you agree?”
says this in front of a bunch of people - you hate this man so much 😭
you’re so happy when he gifts it to you, you’ve never had someone listen so intently to what you talk about
you definitely cry into his arms and he’s a bit stunned but eventually holds onto you - you stay like that for a while
he would love it if you gave him fancy coffee to help him stay up in the lab!
viktor’s favourite holiday activity is going to the christmas markets!
loves the smell of cinnamon and cocoa in the air, loves how the cold air nips at his nose
the icy ground is a bit of a nuisance for his cane but he knows he always has you to help out, even if he hates asking ^^
makes you two look at all the lights so you can rate them
goes to basically every dessert stand and scarfs down an insane amount of sweet things in record time
likes to buy the weirdest snow globes he can find
viktor’s favourite christmas song is winter wonderland
Caitlyn:
cait gifts you a first-edition copy of you’re favourite classical novel! 
she had to pull a lot couple of strings to get it but she would do just about anything for you 
even though you’d be happy with anything she gives you, she places a lot of expectations on herself 
she stresses herself out over making sure you have the best christmas ever 
she would love it if you gave her clothes that she would actually wear, things she’s told her she likes - not just what she’s expected to wear 
cait’s favourite holiday activity is ice skating!
she’s honestly so good at ice skating you’re surprised it isn’t her job or something 
takes you skating on the frozen lake at her estate 
if you don’t know how to skate, she’s incredibly patient and teaches you the basics
she loves that you have to cling onto her so you don’t fall over 
if you know how to skate, she bashfully asks if you want to learn couple’s ice skating choreography with her 
has the time of her life doing lifts and jumps with you! 
wishes she could stay outside skating with you 
cait's favourite christmas song is underneath the tree 
Mel:
mel gifts you a holiday at your dream destination!
she has lots of money at her disposal and gifts you things all the time, so she really has to go above and beyond for this one
you complain about barely getting to see her due to her work on the council so she manages to get a week away with you!
has a whole itinerary planned out so all you have to do is sit back and relax
makes up for all the time she spent away from you by making sure you're both attached at the hip lol
she would love it if you gifted her one of those jars full of little notes with things you love and admire about that person!
mel’s favourite holiday activity is playing games by the fireplace!
at first, she’s off-put by the whole idea - she’s not a child
but deep down i feel like she’s quite lonely and yearns to feel like she really belongs somewhere, she’s just scared to be emotionally vulnerable
so when you come along she reluctantly agrees and finds that she really loves doing this at a time that reminds her of her estranged family
loosens up around you and feels like she can really be herself
she’s also very competitive so it adds more drama to it all
you guys definitely argue when you play charades or uno 😭
she makes it up to you by letting you win the next game even if it’s incredibly obvious
makes silly bets when you play - “if i win the next round you have to tell me what you got be for christmas”
she’s such a cutie
mel’s favourite christmas song is santa baby
Ambessa:
ambessa gifts you a spa day
honestly a bit of a self-indulgent present since her mind isn’t completely innocent with this gift
a spa day is a spa day however
she doesn’t celebrate christmas - it’s a useless frivolity that wastes precious time that could be used to train her army
she knows how much you enjoy it though so she makes an exception for you
you can tell her heart’s not in it but it’s sweet that she tries for you
she would love it if you made her an intricate meal with all her favourite noxian foods!
ambessa’s favourite holiday activity is making christmas cards!
well, she’s not the one making them
she just watches you make them
but she thinks the look of concentration on your face is quite endearing so she stays around to watch you make them
she’s surprised by how much effort goes into making them from scratch and she walks away with a new appreciation for your hobby
you could beg her to join but she’s just not gonna do it 😭
she likes you, but not that much
ambessa’s favourite christmas song is none of them unfortunately <\3 (she has a soft spot for feliz navidad)
Heimerdinger:
heimerdinger gifts you a jailbroken gaming console 😭
he spent precious time on that thing
doesn’t agree with doing things like that usually but it’s christmas
everyone deserves a treat every now and then!
hopes you’ll focus on your work at the academy more often if you have this
backfires in his face because you’re constantly on it now, oh well
at least you liked the present
he would love it if you you gifted him a song you wrote!
heimerdinger’s favourite holiday activity is secret santa!
he is SO bad at keeping his a secret 😭
he goes around the academy asking people about your hobbies, likes and dislikes
you know he has you by the end of the day lmao
he’s so cute you can’t even be mad
heimerdinger’s favourite christmas song is wonderful christmastime
AU!Claggor:
claggor gifts you one of his hybrid plants! 
this is a huge honour since they’re basically his children 
the one he gifts you was a seedling from the very first plant that managed to survive off the fissure gases 
gives you a whole speech on how to properly care for it (tells you the secret is to whisper positive affirmations to it every morning) 
he’s nervous gifting it you since it means so much to him, but he knows he can trust you to look after it 
it’s so sweet since he’s sharing such an important part of his life with you!
he would love it if you gave him cuttings from a rare plant you may or may not have taken from some rich piltie 
claggor’s favourite holiday activity is baking! 
he has his own apron and everything 
makes cookies and yule logs topped with marshmallows - he goes above and beyond 
makes enough to give out to family and friends 
he loves seeing people enjoy his labor of love, it makes him all fuzzy inside 
claggors’s favourite christmas song is it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas 
AU!Mylo:
mylo gifts you wool gloves!
you always complain about having cold hands so whenever you two are outside, your hands are always in your pockets
but he wants to hold your hand :(
so gloves it is!
two birds with one stone
he would love it if your gift was literally just a kiss under the mistletoe, he doesn’t ask for much!
mylo’s favourite holiday activity is scavenger hunts!
he’s another one who thinks certain activities are childish, but once he gets in the zone istg he’s shoving actual kids out of the way 😭
like i genuinely believe you would have to restrain him because he’s going feral over this
he needs to calm down tbh
probably loses to a five year old and sulks for the rest of the rest of the day
mylo’s favourite christmas song is a nonsense christmas
Silco:
silco gifts you expensive clothes and perfume/cologne
he’s got MONEY and i feel like he wants to make up for the fact that he’s never had much growing up, so he spoils you in all the ways you deserve
he rolls his eyes if you tell him you don’t want anything for christmas
as if he would let you celebrate the day empty handed
when you asked him for a big fir tree you got it, along with mountains of presents stacked underneath
way too many for one person
he watches you intently with a smirk on his face, loving the way your eyes light up with each present you unwrap
he likes having the satisfaction that only he can treat you like this
he would love it if you offered to inject his eye as a gift - he can’t really reject this, can he?
if you offered under any other circumstances, he would probably say no
silco’s favourite holiday activity is dressing up as santa!
ok hear me out
one day when jinx was younger she asked if she would see santa that year
and he just…dressed up as him?? and gave her presents??? and now it’s a tradition that’s stuck 😭
keep in mind jinx didn’t believe in santa at this point but he had no idea about this so he didn’t want her to be disappointed
his santa impression is just “ho, ho, ho” 😐 he’s so deadpan it’s hilarious
he has this tacky stiff beard and pillows stuffed under his costume
so when you find out about it, you beg to see it with your own eyes
it’s sooooo embarrassing for him but he loves making his favourite people happy no matter the cost
doesn’t let anyone else but you two and sevika see him like that
silco’s favourite christmas song is…the christmas song lol
Sevika:
sevika gifts you a custom-made gun, “to Y/N, from sev” inscribed on the handle 
she’s secretly whipped for you but can’t let anyone else know, how else is she meant to keep up her tough facade? 
teaches you how to use the gun - she doesn’t want you to be defenceless in the lanes, especially since you’re connected to someone like her 
her worst fear is someone hurting you to get to her 
she would love it if you got her a backup arm, god knows hers is always getting ruined considering all the fights she gets into 
sevika’s favourite holiday activity is watching christmas movies!
she rarely gets a moment to relax so when the holidays come around, she loves getting to chill with you on the couch 
you guys watch those awful hallmark movies and you spend the entire time complaining the the tv about how unrealistic and dumb the characters are 
she throws popcorn at the tv whenever her least favourite character shows up 
oooh i can picture you two sipping on mulled wine, sevika’s arm wrapped around your shoulders 
you’re basically snuggled into her lap and she lives for it 
would die if anyone saw her like that though 
makes it a yearly tradition to show you the picture she secretly took of silco dressed up as santa 
she basically glows inside when she hears your laughter ring out like bells 
sevika’s favourite christmas song is please come home for christmas 
Vander:
vander gifts you free hug vouchers lmao 
i see him as someone who values sentimental value over material possessions, so he came up with this genius idea >:)
you’re having a bad day? redeem a free bear hug!
you’re feeling sappy? redeem a free bear hug! 
you just want a hug? you don’t even need to ask! 
he was scared you would think he was just being lazy with this present but he’s elated when he sees you openly tearing up at it 
you both laugh at the christmas table over his present 
he would love it if you gave the kids a gift, it shows how much you care! 
vander’s favourite holiday activity is carol singing
except drunk (it’s for charity!)
drunk carol singing is good for the soul, or so he says 
i can imagine him and silco when they were younger wandering the streets, cheeks red with sappy grins straining their faces, belting out songs at the top of their lungs 
multiple people told them to shut up 
they just sang louder 
end up at the last drop where they have a karaoke session 
when he does get tips for his carolina, he uses it to help the most vulnerable people in zaun 
helping his people is his main priority  
vander’s favourite christmas song is let it snow
masterlist
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cherry-leclerc · 1 year ago
Text
lolita ☆ cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding. 
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  
inspired by lolita, lana del rey , blue velvet, lana del rey !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 
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She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.
And that’s a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.
Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie? 
Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 
Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 
“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”
Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
“Papi, how are you?”
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”
-
It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?
“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 
“I am so, so, sorry.”
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 
Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 
“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”
Wait.
“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”
No, no, no.
“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 
“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 
-
It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 
“How’s school?”
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 
“What do you do for work?”
“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 
You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 
“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”
Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.
“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”
“I might.”
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”
You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”
He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 
“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”
“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”
“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.
“Calling him wh- Papi?”
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 
“Forget it. How would I know?”
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
“Not having fun?”
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.
“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 
“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
“You know the groom or the bride?”
“Bride.”
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 
“It is. Thank you for caring.”
He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”
“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 
“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”
Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Maxie.”
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”
“Nothing that should concern you.”
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
“Right. Have a good night.”
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 
“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”
“Ouch.”
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 
“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 
“When was this taken?”
“The day of our engagement.”
You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 
Fuck her, honestly. 
“Why’d you propose?”
He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 
You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”
“You should leave.”
You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 
“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”
Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 
He’s fucked. 
-
The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 
“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 
It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 
“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
“Woah there. Are you okay?”
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 
“What are you doing up so late?”
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 
“First time?”
“No. It’s just been a while.”
You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 
“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 
“You know what you remind me of?”
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 
“A Lolita.”
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
“Are you okay?”
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 
“Why’d you do it?”
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 
“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 
“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.
“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 
“Take care, Carlos.”
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”
You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”
Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure.”
“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
“What are we talking about?”
“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”
“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”
Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 
“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”
“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 
“The fuck - Are you crying?”
“What do you want?”
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 
But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 
“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”
We probably shouldn’t-
Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
“You and him…”
She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 
“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”
-
Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
“How are we all doing?”
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
“Not a word of this to Carlos.”
“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”
“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”
“He won’t believe you…”
She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”
“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 
“Are you okay?” 
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”
“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”
Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”
You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”
“Thank you,” you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”
“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”
“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
“I always find you alone.”
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 
“Ah. I see.” 
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”
“About?”
“Marrying a monster.”
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”
“You were thinking of quitting?”
He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”
It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 
“Want to dance?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”
“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”
Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
“Mentirosa.”
“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 
“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.
“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 
Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 
“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 
“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 
True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 
“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
“Boo!”
“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”
“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
“You’re fucked up.”
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”
“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”
He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
“Fucking delicious.”
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 
“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of cours-s-e.”
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 
“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
“How about mine?”
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 
“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”
“You know it’s always been for you.”
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.
“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 
“Let’s start off with something else then.”
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 
“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”
“Yes.”
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 
Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 
“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 
“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”
He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 
“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 
Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
“Then you should be fucked as such.”
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.
Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
“Oh God.”
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.
“Does that feel good, bonita?” 
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 
In this moment; he looked immortal.
“Carlos, I’m gonna-”
“Hold it.”
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”
It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-
“I will.”
-
When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”
-
There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
“Nice ceremony.”
“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 
“Good to know.”
“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”
“Like you care.”
She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”
No.
“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”
It can’t be. 
Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”
She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 
“Ollie, don’t…”
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.
“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
“Ollie, please…I love him.”
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 
Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.
“Carlos!”
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 
“Coming.”
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
“¿Bonita?”
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.
“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.
“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 
But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 
None of it mattered anymore.
6K notes · View notes
cherriegyuu · 8 months ago
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so high school | kmg | part 1
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pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 8.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here a/n: i wanted to write a story that was light, summeryish. it was based off of taylor swift’s song so high school (i’m not that creative with names), i wanted to write that sort of cute romance we all just love. i truly hope you like it, this one is precious to me. thank you to @joonsytip for helping me with this one. please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.
< part two >
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If there was one thing you hated about college, it was having to choose electives. For starters, you really didn’t want to be there. You were a good student because you had no choice, not because you absolutely loved college — not that your major was boring and you hated everything about it, but it really did seem like a universal experience to hate your chosen major at some point in college. But the problem was that taking the courses related to your major was hard enough as it was, you didn’t want to have to worry about subjects that might or might not add to what you were studying. Of course, you always tried to choose something that had at least a minimum to do with your major — Art History.
But there were times, like the previous semester when you procrastinated too much to choose one, that it simply wasn’t possible, and you had to put up with classes on Cultural Management. At first, you thought it would be geared towards galleries and the like, but it was something much more specific about public cultural heritage and that wasn’t what you wanted. At least the subject was easy enough. Just reading a few pages of Kira’s notes and listening to half of the lectures was enough to get you through with a high grade.
Trying to be a little smarter, and do something you actually enjoyed doing, you signed up for the semester’s classes as soon as they opened. You were already sitting in front of your computer when the clock struck 10 am. You chose a class that all of your classmates, or at least the ones you talked to, were interested in doing: Model Making.
It was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Your parents knew that if you simply disappeared or were too quiet — aka you weren’t yelling at Jeonghan — you’d be in your room surrounded by modeling clay, chopsticks, glue, brushes, and paint, or whatever materials you were using at the time. 
However, all of your dreams were shattered when you ran into Kira at the campus entrance. 
“You know, the teacher for this class is crazy. Your life is going to be hell�� was like a cold shower.
After that, it was as if everywhere you went, people were purposefully talking about the subject, about how the teacher was absolutely crazy and that getting a good grade with her was almost impossible, and how she “seems to take a sick pleasure in failing students.” So when the day of class finally arrived, the first of the next six hellish months, you dragged yourself into the classroom. You chose the seat furthest away from her, hidden behind a student, and did your best to stay as out of sight as possible. 
The guy sitting in front of you turned around. He was smiling widely. You weren’t sure if he was trying to be friendly or what. 
“Do you know if what everyone’s saying is true?” 
There was something about him that was familiar. You obviously knew who he was, it was no secret. Everywhere you went, people were either whispering about him or there was a picture of him and the other guys on the team taped to the wall.
Kim Mingyu, star of the ice hockey team. The youngest to become captain, top scorer, the big sensation who would lead the university to the long-awaited championship. All that blah blah blah about the chosen athlete, and the latest savior of the nation.
So yes, you knew who he was, there was no way you couldn't know. But at that specific moment, while he was sitting in front of you, his body turned in the chair at a strange angle because he was obviously too big for that tiny chair, there was something about him that was strangely familiar.
"That the teacher is crazy?" he nodded, his eyebrows slightly arched and his lips almost forming a pout "I haven't heard anyone say otherwise, so I have no choice but to believe it."
You lowered your eyes and focused on the lit screen of your cell phone, which showed a new message from your brother. You didn't look away because you wanted to know what Jeonghan wanted, as far as you were concerned his message would only be read at the end of the day, if that. You didn't want to keep looking at Mingyu when you felt that everyone in the classroom was looking at you.
You knew it wasn't exactly true, there was no way an entire class, full of students talking to each other, could be looking at you at the same time as if you were doing something scandalous or even remotely wrong. But you knew there were a few people, and that was more than enough. It was a very familiar feeling, one you preferred not to revisit.
Even though you completely ignored Mingyu's presence or his gaze on you, he still hadn't turned around. Not even when the teacher entered the room and everyone fell silent.
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The problem with being a child who didn’t have many experiences is that you become a fearful person. Everything seems big, larger than life, and sometimes everything seems infinite and far beyond reach. It’s a much easier choice to retreat into that familiar corner and pretend the world outside simply doesn’t exist. The bubble you created for yourself was small and admittedly, sometimes suffocating, but it was also comforting.
But everything can change when you meet people who aren’t aware of that bubble, or who didn’t create those spaces for themselves. They weren’t trapped inside it.
One class was more than enough to start a crack in your perfectly intact bubble. A selective introvert, as you liked to say. For a loud hockey player when he was surrounded by his friends, Seokmin was strangely shy.
When the teacher was choosing the pairs, you closed your eyes, praying to anyone who would listen not to pair you with a bad student, someone who wouldn't do anything and you would have to do all the work alone. The prayer, or whatever it was, was not heard because the teacher decided it would be a great idea to pair you and Seokmin. Maybe you were under the wrong impression, falling into the old suspicions and stereotypes, but you doubted very much that you would be able to get any kind of help from Seokmin.
And to be quite honest, after a bad experience with a group mate, to the point of ending up at the police station, because the guy simply couldn't accept the fact that you taking his name off the work was completely his fault and you simply didn't think it was fair that you did everything alone and he still got a good grade, you were okay with doing everything on your own. You were sure that if you opened your email, and clicked on your spam box because God was a witness to the number of emails you had received from that idiot, there would probably still be some unread emails from him, bragging that even with your “attempt” to jeopardize his education, he had managed to get a good enough grade to pass the class. 
Despite everything, Seokmin was nice and seemed interested enough, although a little lost, but maybe a little push in the right direction would be enough. 
“I took this class because I thought it would be easy,” he said laughing, a little shy, “I guess I was wrong.” 
You nodded, absentmindedly turning the page of your notebook with the notes you had made. 
“I took it because I like the idea of ​​building models.”
The classroom door opened with a bang, slamming against the wall. Everyone turned to him, some girls laughing. Mingyu was obviously late, his hair still wet from the shower, his backpack inside out on his shoulder, his shirt completely wrinkled as if it had just come out of a cow’s mouth. The teacher stood up and walked towards him slowly, her arms crossed over her chest.
“He’s screwed.” Seokmin laughed softly, or as softly as he could.
The teacher didn’t have a welcoming look in her eyes, if anything she seemed to be glaring at Mingyu, and not even the best smile he could throw in her direction would make a difference. In addition to being crazy, the teacher was also apparently known for not accepting tardiness.
It was impossible to look away as Mingyu tried, without any success, to open his mouth to explain, but the teacher wouldn’t let him say a single word. You and Seokmin suppressed a laugh when the teacher looked in the direction where she thought the noise was coming from before turning back to Mingyu, who seemed more desperate by the second. He looked lost standing in front of the older woman, his head lowered like a child who had misbehaved and was listening to a lecture.
Finally, the teacher dismissed him with a wave of her hands and turned back to her desk, completely ignoring Mingyu. He finally turned back to the desks, his eyes scanning the space before finally settling on Seokmin. Or… on you? There was no reason to believe he was looking at you, none at all. When Mingyu smiled, you went back to looking at your notes, flipping the pages almost compulsively, looking for anything and nothing.
You had no idea why your heart was behaving like that, beating almost animalistically inside your chest, or why you felt a single drop of sweat run down your spine — despite the air conditioning being on and you feeling cold. You could have sworn you could hear Mingyu’s footsteps going up the stairs, despite the sound of the students’ conversations around you being obviously much louder.
“At least I got something good for being late today.”
Mingyu pulled out the empty chair next to you and sat down, his knee bumping against yours. You flinched a little and moved away, making yourself closer to Seokmin.
“Sorry,” you said to Seokmin and turned to Mingyu. “Could you…?”
You waved your hand to make him move away. He looked confused for a second until he pushed the chair further away from you. On the other side, Seokmin covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, while Mingyu glared at him.
“The teacher who chose your group?” Seokmin asked, still trying to suppress a laugh.
“She just said to sit with whoever wasn’t already in a trio”
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Great, you were stuck with two jocks who had probably hit their heads on the ice so much that their brains had turned to jelly in their early twenties.
“What do we have to do?”
“Build 3 models based on architectural periods.” When Mingyu widened his eyes, you added, “It’s the entire semester’s work. We don’t even have to come to class anymore, just the last one to hand it in.”
You started gathering the few materials you had taken out of your bag. The notebook and pen quickly disappeared into what Jeonghan called a black hole. “What goes in there never comes out again. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a wallet I lost in high school.”
“Look, I know I’m going to do this alone. I'll find a way to let you know the periods I chose and the artists and you guys study for the presentation.” 
You stood up, pushing the chair back with your knees, making a lot more noise than expected, which in turn made most of the people turn to see what was happening, including the teacher. 
“Wait,” Mingyu said, holding the strap of your bag. 
Not that you could get out of there anyway, he was between you and any possibility of leaving. But you thought he would get out of the way if he saw that you wanted to leave.
“I'll help, it's my job too,” with his free hand, he pointed to Seokmin behind you. “Ours, actually.” 
Despite the sincere look on his face, you laughed.
“Look, I don't want to offend you guys, okay? But the three of us know that won't happen. There will always be a practice, a game, a party, something that will stop you from doing your part of the work. I don’t mind doing it alone, it won’t be the first time, and considering I still have two more semesters to go, it won’t be the last. It’s okay, really.”
Mingyu stood up and for a moment you were sure he was going to get out of your way, but somehow he managed to block your path even more. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been this tall and wide. When he was around the other players it didn’t seem like it, but him standing in front of you…
“I said we’ll help” 
He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning the device towards you.
“You know, your hands are huge, and this is a very delicate job” What exactly were you talking about?
“He’s more skilled than you can imagine,” Seokmin said. 
Once again, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The teacher was definitely crazy, and it seemed like she had some kind of personal vendetta against you. Or was it a curse cast by Jeonghan for staining his white shirts? Whatever it was, it was a problem that, at the moment, had no obvious solution.
“If I fail this class because of you two idiots, maybe one of you will lose a hand.” You snatched the phone from Mingyu’s hand, dialed your number, and quickly handed it back. “Maybe both of you”
You put your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and pushed him back. You tried your best to avoid any kind of contact, but it was the only solution you could find to pass.
“It’s not a matter of life or death, you know?” he said, laughing.
“I’ve never failed in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”
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Mingyu pushed the door open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy either, a strange feeling somewhere in between that he didn't like very much.
That first day he had seen you in class was like he had been transported back to high school. He could almost hear you saying, in the most disinterested tone in the world, "I've been waiting for you for two hours, could we please go home?" At that time he had also felt invisible to your eyes.
But so many years later, in that classroom, he thought you would recognize him. Mingyu thought, as naive as it may seem, that despite your disinterest at the time, at least you would know who he was.
Of all the people he could meet in that class, you were the last one that ever crossed his mind. It had been years since he had last seen you, since Jeonghan's last game, when he was crowned champion for the third time - an unprecedented feat until that moment. Mingyu had even tried to beat that record, but his runner-up position in the third year had prevented him from doing so. 
He had gotten used to seeing you from afar, always the unreachable sister of his captain, who always seemed to be much more interested in the books you carried around with you than in anything else. 
The truth was that you had never even directed a word in Mingyu's direction. Besides Jeonghan, he had only seen you talk to one other person, Seungcheol. It had never been clear to him if it was by choice or if it was because Jeonghan always said you were off-limits. Maybe it was somewhere in between. 
However, when you entered the room, looking for an empty chair, Mingyu expected you to recognize him, even though so many years had passed. When you walked up the stairs and seemed to be heading towards him, Mingyu, like a silly teenager, expected you to at least greet him. But you walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. 
Even so, he tried to talk to you. Something about the teacher being crazy and the look in your eyes said that you couldn't wait for him to shut up and look straight ahead again.
After that, it was like he saw you everywhere, and believe him, he wasn't looking for you. In the café that opened on the other side of the campus, in the library, when he went to return a book, in the hallway of the building, on the lawn. Mingyu spent five years without having any kind of contact with you and, suddenly, you were everywhere.
He chose to see it as a divine sign. As if the guy up there was saying "Now is your chance". And then, as if all these signs weren't enough, he was given the chance to do an assignment with you, almost like a gift.
"The door didn't do anything to you," Seokmin said laughing.
"Do you want to be the door?" 
Maybe the divine signal was broken, maybe the guy up there was messing with him because in less than 5 minutes you managed to extinguish any and all excitement Mingyu could have about doing the assignment with you. All you had to do was open your mouth.
“Dude, she just doesn’t remember you” Seokmin laughed again, having a little too much fun with the whole situation “If you say, ‘hi, I was your brother’s teammate’, she’ll still not remember you, but maybe she’ll be less hostile”
Mingyu highly doubted that was the case. There was a rumor that you hated everything and anything that had to do with hockey, your patience was less than zero. Jeonghan was the king of the ice, the best the sport could produce. You were the ice princess without ever having even put on a pair of skates – or so the gossip said. 
“It doesn’t bother me that she doesn’t remember me” It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit it “It bothers me that she thinks I’m stupid”
Usually, under completely normal circumstances, Mingyu would even prefer to be seen as stupid and without anything in his head. It was easier, it prevented people from creating any kind of expectation about him. Strangely, he wanted you to see him as intelligent.
“You’re a bit contradictory, aren’t you? You’ve spent the last 3 years cultivating the image of a dumb athlete, who gets good grades by pure luck, despite the almost impossible subjects, but now you want her to think you’re smart”
“I didn’t know you knew how to use the word contradictory”
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You stared at the lit screen of your cell phone. The unknown number was glowing and the inviting green button was almost begging you to answer the call. It was already the third time he had called and it would also be the third time you had ignored him.
“You know, it won’t hurt if you answer his call,” Kira said beside you, but she also knew that trying to convince you was a losing game.
Exactly 11 days had passed since the fateful class that had put you in a group with Seokmin and Mingyu. While you had no direct problems with either of them, besides them being hockey players, Mingyu’s insistence irritated you in a way that didn’t make much sense — not even to you. You should have felt relieved that he wanted to do the work, and that he was interested in participating. But the truth is that you knew how this worked, you had been in that situation before and hadn’t had the best experience.
Maybe you were a little too hard on him, it's true, but it's like the old saying goes: a scalded cat fears cold water.
“I want to keep as far away from him as possible.”
Kira rolled her eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time. She understood, to some extent, your dislike for players and also knew that a lot of it came from your brother, but in the case of Mingyu, specifically, you were definitely going too far.
“Look, the rumors are that he's a good student, actually. Always with high grades.” Kira tried to argue.
You knew the rumor well, even before you were put in the same group, in fact, much to your chagrin, Mingyu had chosen to be in the same group as you. That helped a lot with the huge reputation he had around the college. Handsome, athletic, good student. But you didn't believe it for a minute.
You didn’t know if Mingyu really had any good grades, but if he did, you were sure he hadn’t gotten them in the most… fairway.
“And he’s not unpleasant to look at at all.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. Yes, Mingyu was gorgeous, breathtaking, the kind of guy that made you wonder if he was even real. You had eyes and they worked just fine, you didn’t need Kira to remind you that he was handsome. Saying Mingyu was handsome was like saying the sky was blue, obvious, and expected.
“You know I don’t mess with athletes.”
Finally, Mingyu had given up on the call, but that didn’t mean he had given up completely. Your phone only had a few seconds of respite before the screen lit up again, but this time with a ton of messages.
Unknown - 11:32
hi, it's mingyu
Unknown - 11:32
again
Unknown - 11:33
answer me, I want to talk about the project
Unknown - 11:34
you said you want to do it alone, but it's not going to happen, you know? I can't leave my grande in the hands of a complete stranger
Unknown - 11:35
I see you with your phone in your hand, take my call or reply to my texts
You lifted your head so quickly that you felt a twinge in your neck.
"Shit"
You looked around the cafe, trying to find Mingyu, but most of the tables were empty and none of the people standing in line looked remotely like him. You brought your face closer to the glass, trying to find the tall, broad figure, outside, and still didn't see anyone who could be mistaken for him.
yn - 11:37
I could report you for stalking
Unknown - 11:37
crime: wanting to do a college assignment
yn - 11:37
following me around, calling me non-stop, texting me. It could be considered stalking, yes
Unknown - 11:38
again, crime: wanting to do a school project
Unknown - 11:38
also, I wasn’t following you, I just happened to see you
yn - 11:38
I already said I'll do it alone
Unknown - 11:39
and I already said it won't happen, so if you could tell me your plan on how to do it, that would be great
“We have to admit, he's persistent”
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Mingyu's messages became common and also at the most random moments possible. You were sure that the only time he hadn't sent a text was when he was at the game last Friday. You knew this because you had watched the game, with the computer with the sound turned down so that Jeonghan wouldn't suspect anything. 
You hated to admit it, but he was good at what he did. Dared to say it was even glorious. It was hard to believe that a man of that size, so wide, could infiltrate the smallest spaces and score the most unbelievable goals possible. He and Seokmin together were almost magical. They still couldn't compare to the duo of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, but that was already a very high level to reach. 
Mingyu had given up on sending you texts only about work, not that you had answered any of them, but he also started asking about your course, inviting you and Kira to go to one of his games – you still wondered how he had found out about your friendship since all of your social media profiles were locked and so were Kira's.
You had to agree with Kira, he was persistent. You could even say tireless. If you were him, you would probably have given up a long time ago, choosing to let the crazy guy do the work alone. But Mingyu was nowhere near giving up. You knew this because every time you miraculously ran into Mingyu, you had to run away from him, practically having to run away from him at some point.
It worked very well for a week until one day he simply appeared in front of you. You were distracted, your eyes glued to your phone. Jeonghan was gliding across the ice with skill when the player from the other team hit him hard, his body flying before falling to the ice. You felt the air get stuck in your lungs until he stood up, clearly irritated by what had happened. You felt like laughing when you saw the name on the other player's shirt, the one who had pushed Jeonghan. Choi. Best friends in real life, rivals on the ice.
“What are you looking at so focused?” a voice said next to him.
You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you tried to lock your phone and put it back in the bag. You wished you had been more graceful in the whole situation, to look less like someone who had been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.
“Jeez, do you have no manners?” your voice came out louder than expected, causing some people around him to turn to see what was happening.
Beside you, Mingyu smiled, pleased with himself for having gotten some reaction beyond furrowed eyebrows and a look of disgust.
“Were you running away from me?” he raised his hand and corrected himself, “Not right now because you clearly had no idea I was here, but in general.” 
You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace. You didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do, there were still 50 minutes until your next class and there was no time to run home and hide. Would it be too pathetic to hide in the bathroom and wait for him to leave? With your luck, he would be waiting outside, even if it meant missing a class. 
“Why would I do that?” 
Mingyu crossed his arms over his chest. For the first time in your life, you wished someone was ugly, devoid of any kind of muscles or attractive qualities. You wished he was ugly, terrible to look at. You wished the sun wouldn’t make his skin shine, you wished you didn’t find the mole on the tip of his nose cute, wished you hadn’t wondered if maybe all this insistence of his didn’t have some extra reason, besides wanting to get the work done and obviously annoying you. Of all the things, you wished you hadn’t been disappointed when you hadn’t seen him for a day.
It was ridiculous, you knew it was. But whatever it may be, there you were, your heart pounding, feeling it throb in your neck. You wouldn’t fool yourself into thinking it was just because you were surprised by him suddenly being by your side. You could fool others, but at least you had to be fair to yourself.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
Even though you knew it wasn’t a good idea, you stood still. You knew it would only attract more attention, it was almost inevitable when Mingyu was by your side. 
“Okay, I was. I don’t want to be seen with you.”
Mingyu looked confused, his head lolling to the side as if he was seriously thinking about what was happening. The question mark was clearly written on his face. It was almost as if one was floating above his head.
“Mingyu, look. You, in and of yourself, are not the problem. I mean, in part, it is, but you know, it's that old story, the problem is me, not you.”
“I honestly thought the problem was just the assignment.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows still furrowed. “You think I'm stupid and that kind of thing.”
You took a deep breath, your eyes closed for a second. You hadn't explained the situation to him, you had no reason to, so he had no way of knowing. But you also didn't want to expose your life to a stranger, so you weren’t willing to just tell secrets you’d never said out loud.
“If I tell you I’ll let you guys do your part, will you stop following me? It’s a little weird, and maybe even a little creepy.”
Your words were honest, it was weird and creepy at the same time. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him, and for Seokmin, to just let you do everything yourself so they could focus on whatever was important to them? In your opinion, it was the easiest thing for everyone.
But Mingyu looked like a dog with a bone. A terrible analogy, but it made sense, at least to you.
“Yes,” a direct answer, great.
“Let’s do it like this then, let’s chat via text about the artists we think are cool, which are the most interesting. Once we’ve reached a consensus, we’ll get together to start making the models.”
You took a step back and held out your hand. A peace offering.
“We have a deal then.”
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If regret killed, you would have been dead and buried so long ago that you would have turned into fertilizer. Logically, you knew that trusting Jeonghan was a mistake. You loved your brother with all your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't the most trustworthy person for certain things.
If you were in trouble and needed help? He was definitely the right guy for the job. He wouldn't say a word in a judgmental tone and, depending on the situation, he would go far enough to pretend it never happened. Now, if it was a request that he considered silly, then it was a lost cause. 
Besides all that, Jeonghan liked to play pranks, and you were one of his favorite victims. Things could even get a little out of hand when he and Seungcheol got together. It was like having two completely devilish older brothers. In truth, Seungcheol alone wasn't even that bad, but when he got together with Jeonghan it was like someone had opened the gates of hell. 
Even knowing all this, you had talked to him. You knew the house was his, that he could come and go as he pleased, but thought that if you played the little sister card well enough he would let it go.
"Some friends from college are coming over tomorrow, can you please not show up at home?" you asked, making your best puppy-dog-that-fell-out-of-the-moving-truck face.
"You don’t want me to meet your boyfriend?" he laughed, looking away from his phone for a second before returning his attention to the device.
You closed your eyes. Something was going on. Jeonghan was really into his phone, much more than usual. Either some nonsensical rumor had been published, which he would have already shown you and laughed along with you when he read the absurdities written; or he had a bone in his body, also known as a girlfriend. He always got more into his phone when he had someone more serious in his life.
It was useful information to have, so you put it in a little box in your mind labeled "something to blackmail Jeonghan with later" For now it was just speculation, but it could be important.
"How many boyfriends do you think I have?" You grimaced, shaking your head. “But no, none of them are my boyfriend. They’re just some guys I have to work with. I thought about doing it here because we need space and I’m sure I’ll yell at one of them sooner or later.”
You weren’t in the habit of bringing people home. Jeonghan was a person who really liked his private life to remain that way, private. Even with Kira, who was your closest friend, you had a hard time taking her home. Not because Jeonghan had asked. He knew that if you were asking, it was because you needed to or because you trusted those people enough to know who your brother was without it becoming a problem.
In fact, you weren’t sure of anything, not that you needed them or that you could trust them. But Jeonghan wasn’t one of those celebrities who had huge photos of themselves scattered around the house. It’s a little creepy, to be honest, he had said once. So the few photos he had around the living room were in normal-sized picture frames, which his mother had put up when she visited, so they could be easily hidden. The lie about the rich brother who works in the stock market was always on the tip of your tongue in case someone could question why you lived in a penthouse.
"I don't understand what's wrong with me being here then" His indifferent tone of voice was dangerous.
Maybe it would be better to give up.
"First because I don't need supervision, the virginity ship sailed a long time ago" 
It might be a good idea to talk about something he didn't like to talk about, like your past relationships. He could joke all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just a guy who didn't like knowing that his younger sister had boyfriends.
"For the love of god I don't need to know that in detail" He grimaced, pretending to vomit. He was such a good actor that he had even turned pale.
"And secondly, because they play hockey. Since there's no way they don't know who you are, I'd like to not witness another fanboy" 
You knew you had said the wrong thing when you noticed that gleam in Jeonghan's eyes. Even his expression had changed when you told him that your groupmates played hockey.
Still, you chose to believe him when he said he would be out of the house all day, that he would even go to Seungcheol's house after practice — which you thought was a lie, considering the whole situation with not putting down his phone and running when a notification came in. He had gone as far as to say, “let me know when it's over, so I can come home.” That's why you sent a message to the group chat with Seokmin and Mingyu asking if they had Tuesday night off.
A part of you, a very big part, thought they would deny it and make up any excuse not to show up, but it was almost as if they both had their phones in their hands waiting for your message.
And so, the three of you were sitting at Jeonghan's huge dining table. It was the kind of furniture that existed only to take up space, you always ate in the kitchen.
“You live well” Seokmin commented.
It was funny, and almost cute, how completely clumsy he was. You had bought different types of materials to test, thinking about which one would work best. Seokmin had changed several times, the last attempt was the biscuit.
“My brother earns well” you shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore.
To your surprise, he didn't ask. Which was a relief, you didn't want to lie.
Even without looking up, you knew Mingyu was looking at you. He didn't try to hide it at all. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was flattering.
You rested your chin on your hand and stared at him too. Ever since the first day you had seen him in class, you had the feeling that you knew him. You didn't know where from, you didn't know how. It wasn't from college, it wasn't from the posters spread around, or from the fame he had. It was from before, before college, but you didn't know where. You were sure he wasn't in any of the courses you took and he wasn't from your school either, there was no hockey team.
“Where do I know you from?” the words came from your lips, but it was a question asked much more to you than to him.
Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side and didn't say a single word. Seokmin, who until then had his head down, his brow furrowed in concentration trying to shape the white mass in his hands, looked up, almost startled by your words.
It was as if a light bulb had been turned on over your head. It was so ridiculously obvious that you would be able to kick yourself.
And with perfect timing, as if it had been sent from heaven, programmed to the exact seconds, you heard the living room door open. A second later, Jeonghan was in the room.
“Mingyu?” Jeonghan said, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.
“Captain,” Mingyu said, smiling.
You wished a hole the size of Mount Everest would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole as you watched Mingyu stand up and greet Jeonghan as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.
That was obviously true.
“You know each other” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement.
“Yes? Mingyu is a few years younger, but we played on the same team.”
Suddenly a brief movie flashed through your head, of all the times you had seen Mingyu — or at least the times that were never erased. Mingyu walking next to Jeonghan one of the times you were waiting for your brother in the school parking lot, him at the games, sitting on the bench completely irritated by the fact that he couldn’t play and the team was losing. He was a boy who was clearly too skinny, but somehow he had become that man in front of you.
“She doesn’t remember me,” Mingyu said with a laugh.
Was that a hint of resentment you heard in his voice? You hoped not, but maybe if you were in his shoes you would be resentful too. You hoped he hadn’t talked to you that first day because he expected you to recognize him and every time after that. Because most of the time you had been a complete jerk to him.
“Wow, you saw him literally every day for at least two years.”
It wasn’t like you weren’t already embarrassed enough on your own, of course, Jeonghan, in his best big brother role, had to add fuel to the fire. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt them hot.
If the smile on Mingyu’s lips was any indication, you were completely screwed.
“I only remember Cheol. He was the only one you let get close to me.”
It was a futile attempt to defend yourself, but it was the only excuse you had. It was also the truth.
“That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, sitting back down.
It wasn’t a big secret that Jeonghan had forbidden all his teammates from getting close to you. It wasn’t like you desperately wanted their company anyway, so it was a win-win arrangement.
“You were a pain in the ass,” which was just another shovel of dirt for someone who was already buried, right?
“I was protecting you? The guys on the team…” he tried to defend himself, feigning offense.
You simply waved your hand at him, dismissing any kind of explanation he might have offered.
“They were teenagers full of testosterone and hormones. Not much has changed, you know.”
The three of them were startled when Seokmin slammed the table, his eyes wide as he stared at Jeonghan. For a few minutes, you had forgotten he was there.
“You are Yoon Jeonghan’s sister?” His voice had suddenly become shrill to the point of echoing in the room.
The laugh that escaped your lips was partly incredulous and partly desperate. Mingyu remembered you, but he hadn’t told anyone—not even his teammate—probably because he remembered it was something you kept people from knowing. In a way, you knew your secret's safe with him. But you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin in the same way.
“He’s kind of slow sometimes.”
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Mingyu pushed Seokmin out the door, hoping he would finally stop talking. His friend hadn’t realized the discomfort he had caused you yet. Jeonghan, as always, didn’t seem to care and on some level, he actually seemed to enjoy all the attention he was getting.
“It’s been a while since someone got this excited to see me,” he said, laughing when Seokmin went to the bathroom.
Either Jeonghan hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, or he had simply chosen not to do anything about it. Mingyu couldn’t be sure of the older man’s intentions, not at that moment or when they were still at school.
But you? You were like an open book, almost begging to be read. You obviously didn’t say a word, but your face showed how uncomfortable you were with the whole situation, how embarrassed you were for not remembering Mingyu as soon as you saw him.
Without you noticing, Mingyu spent a lot of time observing you. In a way, it was easy to know what you were thinking. Of course, a lot had changed in the years you hadn't seen each other, but many things were still the same.
“He won't tell anyone about your brother.”
Mingyu pushed Seokmin again, this time towards the elevator, and turned to you, who was holding the door, your gaze almost lost.
“It's okay.” you took a deep breath before straightening your spine and forcing a smile. “Eventually, everyone will know.”
He shook his head and put his hand on your shoulder, leaning his body forward slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours.
“You have my word,” he promised, voice low “Seokmin won't open his mouth. Your secret will still be a secret.”
You nodded, but Mingyu knew the gesture was just to make him leave faster.
“You should go,” you said before closing the door, without waiting for Mingyu's response.
If he could, he would suffocate Seokmin right there in the hallway, but then the security cameras would see him and that would become a problem. He entered the elevator in silence and pressed the button for the ground floor. Beside him, Seokmin was practically thrilled with the discovery he had made an hour ago.
“When you said you knew her from your old school, I would never have imagined that,” he said, laughing. “I thought she was a girl who went to the same school as you.”
Mingyu chose to remain silent. He expected Seokmin to eventually get tired and simply stop talking, but he should have known better. His friend had too much energy to simply stop. In fact, it was a surprise that he had managed to stay quiet for two hours before Jeonghan arrived. And even after he arrived, Seokmin had remained standing in the same place. He spoke faster than ever and looked at Jeonghan as if he were seeing a god in person, but still, standing in the same place.
God knew it was almost impossible to convince Seokmin to stay still for long.
“I don’t understand why she hides the fact that she’s his sister. It’s basically the nicest thing anyone can say. Imagine going around saying ‘my brother is Yoon Jeonghan’”
Mingyu sighed and crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, he would.
“Remember that time your sister complained that a girl tried to befriend her because she wanted to go out with you?”
“It happened a few times, actually.”
Mingyu stayed silent, waiting for all the dots to connect in Seokmin’s head without him having to actually say the words. Under normal circumstances, Seokmin would have understood and kept quiet, but he was too excited after meeting an idol god to realize the full context Mingyu was trying to give him.
“That happens to her all the time. She didn’t even go to the same school as us. She really does everything so no one knows she’s his sister. Didn’t you notice there’s no picture of them at home?”
Seokmin laughed, as if the question was too stupid, causing Mingyu to narrow his eyes.
“Dude, you’re the one who’s into her, not me. I don’t care about whose picture is in her house.”
Would anyone find it a problem if Mingyu strangled Seokmin until he passed out and then took him back home? In Mingyu’s eyes, he would be doing everyone around him a favor. It would be a night of silence and peace for everyone involved — in this case, just him, but no one needed to know about it.
“Either way, you can’t tell anyone about this,” he warned once more.
He had made a promise to you and he would rather cut off an arm than break it.
“Not even to the team?”
Mingyu scratched his head before crossing his arms again, with much more force than necessary. Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor and Seokmin was faster than Mingyu to get out, almost running down the hall to the gate.
Mingyu briefly greeted the doorman with a nod before following his friend.
“Especially to the team. No one can know. It's like a federal secret, you know?”
Mingyu grabbed Seokmin by the arm, making his friend stop and look at him. He hoped it would be enough for him to understand that he wasn't kidding, that it wasn't some kind of joke.
"Jeez, so much drama."
He got away from his friend and quickly opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.
Once again, Mingyu took a deep breath, his eyes closed. Maybe he shouldn't have promised you anything, not when the promise had nothing to do with him, and when there was a possibility of everything going wrong, then he would have to bear the burden of someone else's mistake.
"Seokmin," your voice was a warning tone. He opened the car door.
"I won't say anything!" his friend almost shouted.
"You're terrible at keeping secrets," he sighed, almost defeated.
"Nobody knows that you're actually super smart," Seokmin scoffed. "I never told on you, you know."
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When you finally managed to get Mingyu and Seokmin to leave, you were beyond exhausted. It was late, already past 10 pm and you had to wake up early for class the next day. At least you would fall into bed without much trouble and you were sure that you would black out almost instantly. Except for the idea that from that moment on it was likely that the entire college would know who your brother was.
You always knew that this day would come, you just hoped it wouldn't be during college, a college that had a good hockey team — well, it was almost unfair, they were fantastic — and that lived and breathed the sport. If the news really needed to get out, you wanted it to happen when you were far away from there, in an environment where few people would like the sport. Of course, you were living off stereotypes, but you preferred to believe that you wouldn't have many colleagues who liked the sport, or that if they did, they would be indifferent.
With a sigh, you began to gather the materials that were scattered around the table, cleaning up the mess left behind. Seokmin wasn't wrong when he said that Mingyu was more skilled than expected. The prototype he made was delicate and almost perfect. Working with him wouldn't be complicated at all. With Seokmin too. He was more absent-minded, but he wasn't bad either. He could do the rough part of the work and you would refine it until it was perfect.
“Sis”
Jeonghan's voice sounded behind you and you chose not to answer. You were irritated with him for so many reasons that you didn't even know where to start, or what to say to him. You had made it explicitly clear why you didn't want him home. And, although he had never necessarily liked your reasons, Jeonghan had always respected you. If you said you didn't want something, he accepted it. But this time he had crossed all the limits.
“Sister” he tried again, this time a step closer to you.
You rested your hands on the table and leaned your body forward. 
“You know, I know that I live in your house, that you’re the one paying for my college, and that all the comfort I have here is because you pay for everything, so you can kind of do whatever you want. But this is my life.” 
You continued to put the things in the box and went to your room. You didn’t close the door because you knew Jeonghan would follow you. 
“I don’t understand what’s wrong with people knowing that I’m your brother.” 
You shook your head as you sat on the bed. He clearly didn’t understand, he never had, but he had always respected it. Apparently not anymore. 
“It’s not middle school anymore and you’re not 13 anymore. Just tell them all to go to hell,” he tried to reason, sitting in front of you. 
Jeonghan’s eyes were affectionate, without a hint of judgment. He just wanted to understand what was going on, because it was so important to you that people didn’t know.
“I didn’t change schools because girls were all over me because they wanted your number. I can’t say it didn’t affect my decision and it was the perfect excuse. But that wasn’t all.”
You didn’t know how to continue, didn’t know how to say everything without Jeonghan getting upset. Because you were sure he would.
“I didn’t want to be compared to you anymore.”
Your voice was almost a whisper and you didn’t dare look up, or in Jeonghan’s direction. You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, because you knew he would be disappointed. Not because you were feeling that way, but because you never told him anything.
“The teachers always talked about how smart you were, that despite sports you always got good grades. And I remember how you were back then, and you barely tried, but you were good at everything. I tried so hard and it was never enough.”
With each word that left your mouth, your voice got lower and weaker. When you said the words out loud, when they weren’t just cloistered in your mind anymore, they sounded almost pathetic. Jeonghan had never put any kind of pressure on you, quite the opposite. Your brother always made sure that you were you, an individual different from him.
All the ideas and traumas you had were not directly caused by Jeonghan but somehow had to do with him.
Jeonghan sighed loudly and leaned forward until he could hold your hand.
“Being good at school doesn’t mean anything, it’s just school. No one cares about it after a while.”
The laugh you let out was one of complete mockery. Jeonghan really had no idea what could be going through your head, the things that had happened and were still happening. Not that you blamed him for that, he had no way of knowing if you didn’t tell him what was going on, but part of you just wanted him to pay attention. If he paid attention, even the slightest bit, he would know.
The fact that he didn’t understand was painful.
If it were just the school teachers, it would be fine. Like he said, no one cares about school after a while. Do you know who cares about school, regardless of the moment? Parents. Parents who aren't necessarily bad, just parents who think that comparing one child to another is an excellent incentive. An incentive so good that they still do it.
Deep down you know that it's not out of malice, that it's not because they want to see you down, but it's an inevitable consequence. And, in a way, they were already so intrinsic in the conversations, little notes that didn't even seem like real comments, that you were sure that Jeonghan didn't even notice them.
"Okay," you said, just wanting to end the conversation. "I'll talk to both of them tomorrow, and apologize to Mingyu."
Jeonghan nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over and that even if he pressed, he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of you.
"I have to leave early tomorrow," he said, "but if you want, can we have dinner together and talk about it?"
"I'll accept dinner, but I'll skip the talk."
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sinofwriting · 1 year ago
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Under His Wing - Jenson Button
Words: 1,177 Summary: Oscar had thought when Mark had taken his sister under his wing that it was a great idea. Turns out it was the worst idea in the world as he stares at a picture of Jenson and his sister kissing. Note(s): Reader is Oscar’s sister. Large age gap between her and Jenson. No part two will be written.
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Oscar had four sisters. All younger than him and all equally as annoying and he didn’t have a favorite. It would be unfair really. But if he was to have a favorite sister? It would be Y/N.
They were nearly twins, just ten months apart, but you’d never think so with the way she always tagged along with him everywhere.
When he moved to the UK for his racing career, six months later she joined him. When he moved out of boarding school and into a flat, she joined him. She joined him at races, at pr and press events, she always joined him. And thankfully when Mark became his manager in 2020 he recognized how important she was to him, really how important his family was to him, and as soon as she got her degree she was working with Mark.
Oscar had been beyond grateful, because she loved f1 just as much as he did, she just didn’t have an interest in driving. She did want a career in it and Mark had given her that opportunity without Oscar having to beg whatever team he was a part of to give her a chance or make her an employee of his, which would have not worked for either of them.
He’s beyond grateful for the chance that Mark gave her, for what Mark has done for him, for his career, for taking them both under his wing, but now as he stares at the photo on his phone, he wishes that he never let Mark Webber meet his sister.
“Jenson.” She giggles as he presses kisses to her neck.
He grins at the sound, nipping at the thin skin and reveling in her gasp. “Yes, sweetheart?”
Her temple presses briefly against his as she gently shakes her head. “I want a kiss.”
He can hear the pout on her lips, the wide-eyed look she has on her face, as she tries to get what she wants. Not, he thinks, that she really has to try and convince him to give her anything.
“Come here, sweetheart.” He murmurs, turning her so she’s facing him and sure enough, she’s pouting up at him, her bottom lip sticking out beautifully. “You want a kiss?”
She nods.
Leaning down, he kisses her, taking that bottom lip of hers in between his own. “Is that better?”
“Much.” She sighs, making him kiss her again.
Releasing her, he watches as she goes over to her bag and pulls out of her phone. A joke is on the tip of his tongue about kids and their phones these days, but his dominant hand is pulling his own phone out of his pants pocket, wanting to check his messages before seeing if he can convince her to join him in the shower, a light sweat clinging to him from their hike.
His eyebrows furrow at the sheer amount of missed calls and texts he has and he quickly answers the next call.
“Mark, Is everything alright?”
“Jenson.”
“What’s going on?” He asks, shooting a concerned glance at Y/N, whose looking at her phone, confused.
“Are you in California right now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you with anyone?”
His eyebrow raises, “no. Why?”
“So, Y/N Piastri, Oscar’s sister and my assistant isn’t with you.”
Jenson freezes. “How did you-?”
The older cuts him off. “You two were spotted on a hike, kissing.”
“Fuck.” He drags a hand over his face while the one holding his phone, pulls the device away from his ear and mouth a bit. “Sweetheart, we’ve got a bit of a problem.”
“Does the problem have anything to do with why Oscar has nonstop been calling and texting me?” She asks, moving back over to him and he winces as she watches her let another call from Oscar just ring through.
“We got spotted on our hike.” He tells her, as he puts his phone on speaker. “Mark called as well.” He doesn’t mention any of the other names he also saw littering his phone screen, that could wait until after.
“How bad is it?”
“PR wise?” Jenson’s nose wrinkles, face twisting in disgust at how that’s the first thing Mark says, considers, even though it’s his job in some sort. “Not too bad. There’s a lot of shock, questions. It’s more Oscar I’m worried about.”
“He’s not happy.”
“Happy?” Mark laughs. “He apparently went ballistic seeing the photos. Lily called me, she was with him when he saw. Last update I had from her, he was trying to get Max to give him his private jet so he could come to California to kill Jenson. Since y’know he found out through twitter that his little sister is doing something with a guy twice her age.”
“You introduced us.” Jenson protests.
“Yeah, because I thought you’d be good friends. Not,” he pauses unsure of what to call it.
“Dating?” She fills in for him.
“Yeah, dating.” He sighs. “Did anyone know before this?”
“No.” They both answer at the same time.
Mark sighs again. “Alright, well it’s time to start talking. You need to call your own manager Jenson, Y/N call Oscar, we can handle our side of the PR after Jenson gets his figured out.”
“Got it. Sorry, Mark.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid.”
Before Jenson can say anything the call is ended and he’s staring at his phone, bemused. “I think he likes you more than me.”
She laughs. “Well, do you blame him?”
He quickly shakes his head. “No. Be stupid to not like you.” He dips his head down, wanting a kiss, but she steps away, shaking her head.
“No, not happening. You can get a kiss after you talk to your manager and I talk Oscar out of killing you.”
Jenson winces, that was not going to be a fun conversation. “I’m alright with a bit of light maiming.”
“Jenson.”
“Sweetheart,” he chuckles at the serious look on her face. “He’s going to want to kill and hurt me. I’m sure your mum and dad are the same way. I’m sure next time I see Mark I’m going to get a nice elbow to the ribs. It’s just what’s going to happen. I made my piece with that after our fifth date.”
She pouts and he can’t help but pull her into a hug. “I don’t want you to get hurt and I don’t want anyone fighting about this.”
“I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “And we can hope that it doesn’t happen, that it goes more smoothly than how it feels currently, but we both knew that us being together would rock the boat.”
“I think we need a bigger boat.”
He snorts. “Maybe. Now let’s make our calls, get them done and over with yeah?”
“Yeah.” She sighs, pulling away from him before smiling and then she’s pouting up at him again, just like earlier. “Kiss?”
He shakes his head, but brushes their lips together for just half a second. “There ya go, sweetheart. Little something to tide you over.”
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chaosartic · 1 month ago
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Throw away the caution! Part 2 | LN4
word count: roughly 2k
warning: shitty writing, confusing, pinning, mention of alcohol, drinking and getting tipsy/drunk
summary: Lando (annoyingly) has a crush on non other than his best friends younger sister, Y/n Fewtrell. It was his well kept secret. Why? Because he knows how overprotective Max is of you. What happens when Carlos and Oscar find out about it? Will a drunken night out celebrating a race weekend change their relationship?
a/n: I’m so so sorry for the long wait but here it is, the second part! Please still ignore the terrible writing I’m still exploring with my style and such. Check out part one here!
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The paddock is already bustling with energy when you and Max walked in. The journalists are trying to get some last minute shots and stories out of everyone. You wouldn’t say that you’re used to cameras being pointed at you or being quizzed by the media. But then again it didn’t surprise you that much when it happened. When Lando joined Formula One some attention also turned to his best friend whenever he was around. And since you normally spend your time during the race weekend with Max, there are some media pictures of you as well.
You stopped a few times along the way to the McLaren garage to talk with some of the drivers that you both know. When you reached the garage, the first one you saw was Oscar. “Hi guys,” he greeted the both of you. “Lando is still in the back,” he mentioned while pointing in the general direction. After a short greeting Max was already on his way to Lando. You however stayed in the front not sure if Lando really wanted you in his driver’s room after all.
“Sooo how do you feel about today?” You ask Oscar. “Excited but nervous,” he admits. “Home races are always… well different with all the fans around. My family is here as well. We’ll see how it goes,” Oscar confesses, getting slightly red around his cheeks. The younger McLaren driver was a bit nervous. At that moment Carlos decided to step up to the two of you. “Morning Carlos,” you greet him. “How was Sydney?” You ask, having just recently seen the pictures of him and Alex there. “It was good. How about your flight? Heard you arrived yesterday,” he said curiously.
“Same old, still don’t like the long flights,” you mention, Carlos knowing from previous conversations about your hate towards long distance flights. “But I’m very happy to be here for the full three days for a change.” You quickly add, gaze drifting towards the garage to see if your brother or Lando were back in the front. “I’ll go and grab something to drink. Do you want anything?” You ask the drivers but both are shaking their heads, no.
Oscar turns towards Carlos as soon as you are out of hearing range. “Am I imagining this?” he asks the Spaniard, pointing towards where you just went and where Lando is. For a quick second Carlos was confused by the younger driver's question before it clicked. “Oh, that. I’m honestly surprised that you mentioned it. And I mean the feelings are there you know from his side at least.” he confesses quietly to the Aussie, his Spanish accent getting stronger the more he tries to keep his voice down. After all, the media didn't need to know about this. “When did Lando tell you?” he asks the Aussie. “He didn’t,” Oscar says. “We spent an evening together at Max’s place. You know just us four and I saw the way he looks at here.” He admits, “he also wouldn’t shut up about her during testing in Bahrain. From what I know they’ve been talking a lot.”
”You don’t happen to know how she feels?” Oscar asks. Both ignore everything that is happening around too caught up in the conversation. “No I don’t,” he says. “I mean we are not that close so I never ask her and she wasn’t around much recently because of her private life.” Carlos adds. Oscar nodes in complete understanding. It would be weird if they just randomly went up to her and asked her about that, or would it? “They would be cute together…” Oscar trails off mid sentence. “Si,” Carlos agrees. They didn’t need to say it out loud, both drivers were on the same page. Try to figure out if you feel the same towards Lando and hopefully, depending on your answer, get the two of you together.
When you came back from getting a drink Carlos and Oscar were gone. Probably busy with preparations. You did spot Max outside casually talking to some McLaren personnel. You look around hoping to spot Lando before the first practice session. But luck wasn’t on your side. When you didn’t see the driver a strange feeling of disappointment overcame you. You could ask your brother if he knows where Lando is. It is the first race weekend after the winter break. Pressure and expectations for the team but especially Lando are at an all time high after the constructors title. Also Lando was the one to invite the both of you to Melbourne. It wouldn’t be suspicious if you ask your brother. At least that’s what you hope. You didn’t need your brother knowing about this strange situation.
“Do you know where Lando is?” You ask your brother, “I want to wish him good luck before the practice session.” “Last time I saw him he was in the garage but I think he went somewhere.” He says a bit unsure, now looking around trying to see if he can spot his best friend. “Oh okay. Well, it’s no trouble. I’ll catch him later,” you dismiss it. The feeling of disappointment only grows within you. It was as if Lando heard his name being called. He suddenly pops up out of nowhere. ”Y/n I’m so happy to have you here,” he exclaimed happily with a bright smile on his face. You know that the smile wasn’t because of you. It couldn't be.
“Just wanted to wish you good luck out there.” You say quickly, giving the Brit a hug. His arms wrap tightly around you for a few seconds before he lets go. Oscar can see the whole scene from a slight distance. The plan he made with Carlos would probably sound more than stupid to anyone else. However Oscar saw your smile when Lando gave you a hug and the slightly disappointed look as soon as he left. You are definitely feeling something for Lando, he was sure of that. And hiding that wasn’t your strong suit.
You spent as much as you could during the whole weekend with Lando. If he wasn't around your brother was mostly there to keep you company. Oscar and Carlos seem to be around her the whole time as well, sometimes directly in conversations and other times in the background. You love spending time with the other drivers so you really didn’t mind them being around.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
He did it! Lando is the first winner of the 2025 season. The race was chaotic to say the least but it was good seeing your friend at the top of the podium. You couldn't be more proud of him. It was a bit after the race and you’re currently out with a few of the drivers at a local bar to celebrate the weekend. The night wouldn’t be too crazy, after all the Chinese GP is right around the corner.
You are sitting at one of the tables with some sort of cocktail in your hand. You're not exactly sure what was in it since it was a recommendation from one of the bartenders. No, you’re not drunk, nor was that the goal, but definitely a bit tipsy. Enough to loosen your tongue. Lando is sitting with you just idly chatting about whatever comes to mind.
”So y/n… can I ask you something a bit more personal?” Lando asks you. “Of course you can sillly,” you answer. “Well… it’s a bit weird but I heard Carlos talking to Oscar the other day about you uhm liking someone and I guess I just wonder who the lucky guy is..” he got out. He definitely had more to drink than you did and was already slipping into being drunk. Before he went out with you he was celebrating the win with this team.
You freeze for a second remembering a conversation you had with Carlos and Oscar on Saturday after qualifying. They came up to you and started asking questions about your relationship with Lando, not so subtly trying to get something out of you. Their goal, trying to see if you like the Brit. You didn’t really say anything to them, but your facial expression probably said more than a thousand words and told them exactly what they needed to know. It also wasn’t just a coincidence that Lando heard both of them talking about it. They planned it at the exact moment, hoping to steal some sort of reaction out of him so that one of you would finally carve in and confess their feelings.
You didn’t know what to say. What could you say to that? Sure you could be honest but that would very likely ruin everything. But you don't like lying, especially to those that are close to you. It was a complicated situation. “I… I honestly don’t know what… uhm what to say,” you stutter out a blush creeping up on your cheeks. Lando tilts his head to the side, eyes open wide and looking directly into yours. It was hard for you in this exact moment to read his body language.
“Is it one of the drivers?” he asks slowly. You just nod your head slightly still deep in your thoughts. Lando slowly and shyly took your hand that wasn’t holding the glass in his. His thumb was drawing small, smoothing circles. He took another long sip of his drink. “Can I confess something?” he asks, eyes still looking into yours but a deep reddish blush creeping up his neck. His words are slurred together with an accent thicker than before.
Yet again you nod your head, not wanting to speak too afraid to break the moment. “I- I like you y/n and I have for a while,” he mumbled almost inaudibly with the loud music. “I have for a while,” he added. For a moment you are speechless, not sure how to react. His grip on your hand loses trying to pull away. You could see the anxiety in his eyes slowly coming out through the drunken haze. “I like you too, Lando. Have for a while.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
I hope you enjoy it! Any feedback is appreciated!
Would you like a third part where Max finds out about there confession?
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lovegoodlane · 5 months ago
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Pursuing the Prefect - 2
3.6k words
18+ only
Warnings: sexual content, teasing, oral sex [male receiving]
Summary: Fred continues to try to woo his favorite prefect, but he doesn't expect her to reciprocate his teasing (shy Fred, sub (kind of) Fred)
I intended for the last part to be a one-shot, but it was more popular than I expected. Here is a part two -- there might be more!
Link to part 1
----
It was Monday morning, and you had realized over the weekend that you still had Fred's scarf. After your encounter with him on Saturday night, you were keen on keeping your distance. You weren't just going to run into his arms, you were too stubborn for that. He was going to have to work for it.
In typical Monday fashion, you got dressed and gathered your backpack before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. This would be the first time that you had been in the same room as Fred since Saturday, and the thought made your stomach dance with nervous butterflies.
You had told Beatrice about your semi-hook up with Fred, but you had kept the information from Cho. You knew that she was only going to judge you and advise you not to associate with someone like Fred. You had no need for advice like that.
As you took your seat at breakfast, you noticed that a certain ginger was absent. His twin was at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly about something with a group of younger students. They were almost always together, and this immediately struck you as strange.
You tried not to think about it, hurriedly eating your breakfast so you could get to Potions early. You had a question about the assignment that was given over the weekend, and you intended to ask Snape about it before class began.
"I'll see you later," you said to your group before departing. You looked around for Fred again, but he still wasn't in the Great Hall.
You stepped into the hallway, adjusting your leather backpack on your shoulders as you turned to head toward the Potions classroom. As you passed an empty classroom, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.
You let out a small shriek, obviously startled. Standing in front of you was Fred Weasley, red hair perfectly tousled and a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. His black eye was still visible, but it was less prominent than before. 
"Sorry to startle you, birdie," he said, a grin finding its way to his lips. "I went out this morning to pick these for you."
He handed you the wildflowers, the same soft look in his eye that was present on Saturday night. You took the bouquet, unable to suppress your own smile. That's why he wasn't at breakfast.
"Thank you, Weasley," you said, inspecting the flowers. They were still wet with morning dew and a bit wilted, as the fall weather did not lend itself well to flourishing botanicals.
"I wanted to walk you to class this morning," he said, taking a step closer to you.
"Sure, but that doesn't make you my boyfriend," you replied, reminding him of your relationship. Or rather, your lack thereof. 
"I know, darling," he said, finally close enough to put his arms around your waist. "I know that you're stubborn. But you will be mine, I promise."
You set the flowers on a nearby desk, placing your own hands on his shoulders and running them upwards to lace into his hair. You stared at each other for a few moments, taking each other in.
You loved the way he looked in his uniform. His Gryffindor tie was always just a tad crooked, but you found it endearing. He looked rather preppy with his sweater on today underneath his robes. You pictured Fred in a pair of a nerdy glasses for a moment, causing a giggle to escape your lips.
"Is something funny, birdie?" he asked, pulling you closer so he could talk right into your ear.
"Just thinking about how devastatingly sexy you would look in a pair of wide-rimmed glasses," you teased, standing on your toes to place a kiss on his neck. You lingered just long enough to sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.
You pulled back for a moment, taking in his expression. His cheeks were red, his mouth parted just a tad. Fred Weasley....blushing? That was a sight you had never seen before.
This only encouraged you to continue the teasing. He had done the same to you, so why not return the favor?
"Does someone like dirty talk?" you asked, your voice velvety and seductive. You slipped your hand down to his neck, gripping his throat lightly. "Naughty boy."
You could feel Fred gulp, your hand still wrapped around his throat. You had him right where you wanted him.
"Actually, I think I can walk myself to class this morning," you said. You released your hand from its place on his neck, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before grabbing the flowers from the desk where you had put them earlier. He was still standing there in shock as you headed for the door.
"Thanks for the flowers, Freddie," you said sweetly, tossing him one last glance over your shoulder before departing.
Fred was frozen where he stood. The two of you had a teasing relationship, but most of the teasing came from his end. You would simply resist, making it even more entertaining for him. But now you were the aggressor. And he loved it.
He was accustomed to taking the lead in his relationships. Fred had always been relatively dominant, but things with you were different. It felt like a power struggle. It was exciting and unpredictable.
Fred finally snapped back to reality, feeling momentarily embarrassed as he stood alone in the empty classroom. You had managed to slip through his fingers this time, but he was determined to get you back.
----
It was Wednesday evening. The week had gone by in a similar fashion to all of the others. You spent your evenings in the library with your friends, staying on top of the numerous assignments you had for the week. Your grades were something that really mattered to you, and you were determined to be at the top of your class.
It was your turn to make prefect rounds on Wednesday nights. It was only for an hour from 9-10pm, and you enjoyed the relatively peaceful time that you spent walking around the castle. Students were rarely misbehaving at this time, but you would have to write someone up every once in a while. 
Most of the hour had passed by without incident until you heard a bang come from down the hallway. It made you jump, but soon enough you were walking in the direction of the noise.
"Hey, who's there?" you called down the dim hallway, your feet carrying a quick pace as you went to investigate. 
You reached the set of stairs that led up to the astronomy tower. At the bottom of the stairs was a  neatly folded piece of paper. You picked it up, curious as to what it could be.
The stars are gorgeous tonight, but not as gorgeous as you.
You blushed as you read the note. You recognized the handwriting as Fred's instantly. You had tutored him for a year, so you had become familiar with his messy print. 
You began to ascend the stairs, knowing that Fred would be in the tower waiting for you. He loved surprising you, and he was unexpectedly thoughtful. You loved that about him.
You finally reached the top. Fred was stood by the edge of the tower, leaning against the stone ledge to look out at the sky. You stood there for a moment, watching him without his knowledge.
He looked peaceful. The moonlight lit his fiery hair with silver streaks. You noticed that his tie was missing, likely discarded once classes were over. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, showing more of his collarbone than usual. 
Seeing him like this was enough to make your whole body tingle. You wished you didn't react this way, but you couldn't help it. He was gorgeous. 
You cleared your throat, signaling to him that he wasn't alone. He turned to look at you, his gaze gentle. He motioned for you to join him. 
You approached him, settling in next to him as you placed your hands on the tall ledge. You looked out at the sky, taking in the view from the tower. He was right, the stars were gorgeous. 
You both stood in silence for a few minutes, but it was comfortable. Neither of you felt the need to disrupt the moment. You were enjoying the view and being in each other's presence.
You saw Fred angle his body toward you out of the corner of your eye. 
"How's my favorite prefect this evening?" he asked, a cheeky grin crossing his face. 
You turned to him, leaning your hip against the ledge. "I don't know, seems like I need to write up a certain student for trespassing in the astronomy tower after hours."
You returned his grin, knowing how much he enjoyed your banter. He stepped closer to you, running a finger under your chin.
"Is there anything I can do to convince her not to?" he asked, using his finger to angle your chin upward so you had to look into his eyes.
"We'll see," you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. 
Fred let out a light chuckle, and his other hand wrapped around your waist and landed on the small of your back. He pulled you in, kissing you on the lips.
Your hands rested on his chest, eventually pulling at his collar as you continued kissing. It was slow and gentle, and he wasn't rushing you to go any further.
You finally pulled apart, looking at each other in the moonlight. Even with the limited light, you could make out his slightly rosy cheeks and pink lips. You brought your thumb up to trace his bottom lip, giggling at him.
"Has anyone told you how pretty you are?" you asked, admiring him openly.
Fred's cheeks darkened, making you giggle even more. 
"What, do you not like when I hit on you?" you teased, pulling your hand from his face to place it on his shoulder. 
Fred's response was to pull you in for another kiss. Sweet and slow, much like the ones you had shared moments before. 
"You're quite cheeky, aren't you?" he finally said, resting his chin on the top of your head. He still had his arms wrapped around you, and you leaned into his chest.
"I'm not as bad as I used to be," you admitted. "My mum couldn't stand my mouth when she still lived with us. She said that my thoughts came right out of my mouth instead of going to my brain."
"I think your mouth is smashing," Fred replied. He took a moment to think about what he had said, then pushed you back by your shoulders to look at you as he realized the innuendo.
"Not what I meant," he said, letting out an awkward chuckle. You giggled at his embarrassment.
"I know, Fred," you said, grinning at him. You pulled out of the semi-embrace, turning back to look out at the sky.
You felt him lingering next to you, seeming to hesitate on what to do next. He decided to turn to the stars as well.
"Are you close with your mum?" he asked, sounding shy.
"No," you huffed out almost too quickly. "She left my dad and I when I was ten. Something about  the 'wizarding life' not suiting her. I found out later that she was cheating on my dad and moved to America with her Muggle boyfriend. I haven't seen her since."
Fred took a moment to absorb the information, considering how to proceed since he knew the topic was likely sensitive. 
"Are you close with your dad then?" he followed up.
"Very," you answered. "He went to Hogwarts and was a Ravenclaw too. He works in a potions lab, he grows all of their ingredients. He was hoping that I would like Herbology, but it's not really my thing."
"Does it get boring with just the two of you?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.
"Not really," you replied, turning your head to look at him. "I used to wish that I had siblings, but it would just make our situation harder. My dad has had to raise me mostly by himself, having another child would have had him too knackered to balance work with taking care of us."
Fred looked at you, admiring your openness. You had never talked like this before. Your conversations had always been rather surface-level, but this was deeper. It felt good to connect with him.
"I bet your house is pretty quiet," he said. "My house feels like a madhouse sometimes. My brothers are always wrestling and Ginny is usually complaining about something."
"Do you like it though? Having so many siblings?" you asked.
"I suppose it's alright. I don't know any different. And my parents are so in love that it's sickening," Fred jokingly scrunched his face in disgust.
You giggled. "It's cute that they're still keen on each other," you said, nudging his shoulder with your own.
"I guess," he shrugged. "They're always up my arse about my marks and what I'm going to do after Hogwarts. George too. They make it sound like we're daft. My mum expects all of us to be just like Percy. Perfect Percy."
"I don't think you're daft," you said, linking your arm around his and leaning your head against his shoulder. 
"Thanks," Fred replied, adjusting so his arm wrapped around you instead. "Seems like the whole school thinks I am."
"Fred, that's ridiculous. You're allowed to feel that way, but it's simply not true," you argued. It hurt to hear that he felt like he wasn't smart enough. You knew that Fred wasn't incredibly focused on his studies, but that didn't mean that he wasn't intelligent.
"People like me because of my pranks. I'm good for a laugh, but that seems to be about it," he said. He sounded so small and defeated.
You turned your head just enough so you could look him in the eye. He was averting your gaze, opting to look at the sky instead.
"Look at me, Freddie," you said, your voice firm but kind. He finally met your eyes reluctantly.
"You are incredibly clever. Coming up with your own pranks takes detailed planning, and I can't imagine that it's easy. Your friends adore you. First years are chuffed when you even look their way," you told him, meaning every word. "But you're also genuine. And you're kind, and patient, and considerate. You're so much more than I knew you were, and I'm gutted that it took this long for me to get to know you."
Fred held your gaze as you rambled on. You saw that familiar look in his eye, the softness that was mixed with something deeper. Adoration, maybe? You weren't quite sure.
He was once again left without words, simply staring at you once you were finished talking. You felt embarrassed for a moment, afraid that you revealed too much of how you felt. Your stomach felt like it was sinking to the floor as he just stood there.
Fred finally moved, grabbing both of your hands in his. He maintained eye contact.
"Birdie, you're...Merlin, I don't know how to put it into words," he said, shaking his head at himself. 
"Then don't," you said softly.
He pulled your hands so your arms wrapped around him, drawing you in to his chest. He kissed you, a delicate kiss at first. He bit at your bottom lip, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. 
That was all he needed to lift you up, earning a giggle of surprise from you. You wrapped your legs around him, and he supported you by holding your bottom. He kept kissing you, pressing your back against the closest wall.
The cold stone caused goosebumps to erupt across your back, but in this moment, you didn't mind. Fred's kisses became more fervent, your teeth almost clashing as you both fought for the upper hand. 
He had you pinned against the wall for at least five minutes. You pushed at his shoulders, causing him to pull out of the kiss. He looked at you, his eyebrows bent in confusion.
"Put me down, please," you requested, a nonchalance in your voice. Fred complied, carefully adjusting you so your feet finally touched the ground.
You grabbed the collar of his shirt, spinning around so you forced him up against the wall. Still gripping his collar, you pulled him down into another kiss. Your hands found his belt, and you paused.
"Is this alright?" you asked.
"Please," he answered, sounding breathless. A smug grin crept across your face. You were proud of the effect you were having on him. 
You resumed your kissing, working on his belt. Your kisses migrated down to his jaw, nipping at his jawline. You had always loved his jawline. You had heard other girls joke that it was sharp enough to cut something.
You finally got his belt free, tossing it to the side with a clank. Your hands ran up his chest, nails scratching along the material of his shirt. Fred let out a throaty sound, something between a groan and a whine. 
You kissed down to his neck, nipping at his ear.
"Fuck, birdie," he whispered in response. 
You started fiddling with the button of his trousers, struggling for a moment before getting it open. You pulled away from him, once again checking for his approval.
"Tell me when to stop," you said, echoing the very words he had said to you a few nights ago.
"Please don't," he replied, hands gripping at your hips desperately. 
"I've never heard so many 'please's come from you," you teased, biting at his neck again.
"Anything for you, darling," he said, his voice sultry. That was enough to send a tingle down your spine. 
You tugged at his trousers, pulling them down. You kept kissing his neck, finding a spot along his collarbone to leave a love bite. It was revenge for the marks he had left on you. 
Your hands danced down to his hips, unbuttoning his shirt from bottom to top. You looked at him for a moment, admiring your work. Fred was breathing hard, his pupils blown wide with arousal. He looked....hungry.
You dropped to your knees, earning a quiet "fuck" from Fred. You felt momentarily nervous, insecure about your "talents". You and Adrian had hooked up many times, and you were no stranger to blowjobs. But Adrian was your first and your only. This was someone new.
You snapped yourself out of it, dragging your nails along the waistband of Fred's boxers. There was already a prominent bulge from your efforts, and you silently commended yourself. 
You placed a kiss along his abs over the fabric of his undershirt. You worked your way down, kissing until you were at his waistband once again. You peered up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and desperate expression. And what did you do? You grinned up at him and winked.
Fred groaned, covering his face with his hand. You laughed at him, running your nails along his thighs. You knew that this teasing was making him miserable. You had your fun, now it was time to put him out of his misery.
You grabbed for his waistband, pulling down his boxers in one smooth motion. You gulped as you took in the sight before you. You had assumed that Fred would be big; he was a tall person, after all. You had also heard rumblings from girls who had hooked up with Fred. But this...definitely more than you were expecting. 
You took a breath, gripping him with one hand and supporting yourself against his thigh with the other. You began to pump him, slowly working him up to a faster pace. 
After a minute, you had Fred groaning and gripping at your hair. You dared to tease him once more, darting your tongue out to tease his tip. 
"Fuck," he muttered, nails digging into your scalp.
Your tongue danced in circles around his tip, eventually making stripes down to his base. You still hadn't put him into your mouth, and you knew this was killing him.
"Are you going to say please?" you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
"Birdie, you've got to be....oh fuck," he said breathily. You had continued teasing him with your tongue, interrupting his response.
"Please," he begged, sounding pathetic. That was what you had been waiting for. 
You finally took him into your mouth. You started with the tip at first, using one hand to work the rest of him while the other played with his balls. You worked your way down slowly, taking in more of him inch by inch.
Fred's groans were turning into whimpers, and if your mouth wasn't previously engaged, you would definitely be smirking. His nails continued to dig at your scalp, mussing your tidy hair. 
You worked your way down to his base at last, fighting against your instinct to gag. You picked up your pace, causing various profanities to fall from Fred's mouth.
"Fuck, I'm going to...you should stop," he breathed out, pulling hard at your hair. 
You peered up at him, determination in your eyes. There was no backing down now. He met your gaze, understanding what your intentions were. 
Fred finally released, a groan coming out of his mouth that he tried to suppress by biting his lip. You worked him down slowly, pulling him out of your mouth. You looked right into his eyes as you swallowed. 
His jaw dropped just slightly, his mouth just barely agape as he took in the sight before him. You were doing your own admiring, enjoying your view from your place on your knees. His chest was heaving, cheeks red. You could tell he had a lean build underneath his undershirt, and you were looking forward to taking that shirt off of him. Another time.
You helped him find his boxers and trousers, dressing himself as you got up from your knees. You brushed them off, feeling the indents from the stone floor in your knees. Worth it.
Fred had just finished slipping his belt through the loops of his trousers when you grabbed at his wrists. You puckered your lips at him playfully. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips.
"Do you still think that my mouth is smashing?" you teased, grabbing at his sides to pull yourself into him. 
"Absolutely smashing, birdie," he replied, chuckling again before giving you another kiss. 
----
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion
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Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)
Length: 6k words
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.  
“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.  
“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.  
“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.  
“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”  
“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.  
“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.  
“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.  
“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all. 
And he should. 
Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.  
You’re missing.  
Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.  
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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.  
You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid. 
He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.  
Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.  
But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.  
Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.
He doesn’t mind. At all.  
So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.  
“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.  
“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.  
“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.  
“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.” 
“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.  
“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”  
“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him. 
“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says. 
You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.  
What could living with him look like? 
How long until he gets annoyed with you? 
“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.  
“It could be your home too, you know?” 
He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.  
“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.  
“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.  
“He’s here.” You say, 
And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.  
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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil. 
The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him. 
“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on. 
“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.  
“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit. 
It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.  
Once you look at him, his entire face softens. 
You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second. 
“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head. 
“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods. 
“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police. 
It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.” 
“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”  
“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car. 
The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.” 
“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-” 
“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes- 
Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase. 
“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.  
“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost. 
“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing. 
“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.” 
“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip. 
“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself. 
“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”  
“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin. 
“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say. 
And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting. 
“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.” 
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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife. 
That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?
Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself? 
Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already? 
You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.   
He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.  
A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.  
“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name.  “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.  
“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.  
“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.  
It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.
Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.  
“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.  
“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.  
“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.  
“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“ 
“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”  
Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.  
Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.  
“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.  
And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.  
“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.
What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her? 
“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling. 
“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.  
“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 
“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.” 
“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod. 
“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles. 
“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs. 
“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute. 
You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.  
“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you. 
“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head. 
“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you. 
“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.  
All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you. 
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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.” 
“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods. 
“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug. 
“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.” 
“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles. 
“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-” 
“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you. 
It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on. 
He’s so in love with you.  
His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.  
Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.  
“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.” 
“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“ 
“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.  
“I’ll think about it.”  
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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.  
“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”  
“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.  
“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.  
You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.  
“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.  
“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”  
“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles. 
“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.  
“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.  
“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.  
“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.  
This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.  
But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.  
There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.  
Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen? 
You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that. 
Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod. 
“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.
“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod. 
“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.  
“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.
"But first, let me love you some more."
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teddypines · 5 months ago
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Drop off's and pick up's
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Summary: A week of drop off's and pick up's for the younger's Wayne.
Y/N is around 5-6 years old.
Note: This wrote itself when i was supposed to work on a different story. Small disclaimer, i have no idea how the American school system works or the one in the DC comic's, so it's all based on the school system i know. And yes i did use a picture of a 1967 Chevy Impala, because there were no fun ones of the batmobile.
Art/picture is from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it.
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Drop off and pick up were never the same in the Wayne household. Sometimes Bruce would do it, other times Alfred did it, or Dick and Jason picked the others up. Even Cas or Barbara did it every once in a while. They tried putting routine into it to help Y/N, but that didn’t really work with all the mixed scedules and unexpected events. The older ones made sure they got to school by themselves, but Y/N was still a bit too young for that. So the Drop off and pick up struggle continued,
Monday
Y/N waited by the door with her bag, Alfred packed her lunch and a snack, and Fleepy. Her brothers, besides Damian, had already left for school but she was still waiting on Bruce. “Daddy!! Hurry!!” She yelled as Bruce stumbled through the hallway. “Yes, I'm coming, pumpkin, just give daddy a minute.” Bruce answered as he struggled to put on his shoes. He looked at the waiting Y/N and Damian, sighing he quickly takes out the car keys from his pocket. “Here, go and wait in the car, I won't be long.” He instructed them. 
Y/N listened and grabbed her jacket before going to the car outside. She unlocked the car and quickly got in. Damian following closely behind her. Putting their seatbelts on when Bruce got there. “Let’s get you two to school.” Bruce smiled at Y/N.
“You'll pick me up too?” Y/N asked, wanting to make sure who to expect at pick up. “Yes, I'll pick you up today.” Bruce answered with a nod. “Yeeey!! Daddy pick up!” Damian just rolled his eyes, but understood Y/N liked to know things before hand, he liked it too.
Tuesday
“It was the heat of the moment. Telling me what my heart meant! The heat of the moment showed in your eyes!” Both Y/N and Jason sang. Jason picked her up from school today, which meant bonding time after. Since Y/N was still a bit too young for Jason’s bike he ‘borrowed’ one of Dick’s cars. Damian went home with a friend from school, so Alfred would pick him up later.
The two of them were just singing as Jason drove them to the best burger place in Gotham. “And now you find yourself in '83. The disco hot spots hold no charm for me. You can concern yourself with bigger things. You catch a pearl and ride the dragon's wings.” Jason sang, looking at Y/N as they stopped in front of a traffic light.
“ 'Cause it's the heat of the moment. The heat of the moment. The heat of the moment showed in your eyes!” Y/N sang back with a big smile on her face. The two of them having so much fun that even Cas and Steph would be jealous of the fun they had.
After burgers the two of them went to the record store and Y/N got to pick out a cd for her collection. She chose ABBA, a bit to Jason’s dislike. He didn't get her love for the Swedish band, wanting her to try and listen to one of his personal favorites, but okay. When they left the record store on their way to the bookstore for some comic's,- Bruce called and ruined their fun a bit, wanting Y/N home in the next 30 minutes. So Jason had no choice and had to take Y/N home, but she didn’t mind, she had fun with her brother and that’s what mattered more to her.
Wednesday
Pick up was a big mess on wednesday. Drop went okay, Bruce brought her and Damian to school with the promise that he would pick her up too, or Dick would be there instead. Damian had to stay longer because he was a grade or two higher then her and he would go home with Tim.
But now here Y/N sat, next to her teacher, at 4 p.m. Her teacher tried to reach someone, but no one answered. Tim and Damian had suddenly disappeared from class too, so that was suspisious. This of course made Y/N upset but it wasn’t like this didn’t happen before. She opened her backpack and pulled out the emergency number and handed it to her teacher. “My uncle Clark, for emergencier.” She explained and went silent again. 
Clark was there in no time, but normal human time as to not be suspicious. The teacher didn't need to be more worried then she already was. Clark was a bit worried about Y/N too, so instead of taking her back to Wayne manor he just said ‘Fuck it, sleep over in Kansas.’ And with that Y/N spent the night in Kansas with the Kent’s.
Thursday
Since Y/N spent the night in Kansas with the Kent's, Clark dropped her off at school, making sure to be at the school on time and to not be noticed while flying back and forth. Lois made Y/N lunch for the day, not wanting her to be depended on the teachers or the crappy school lunches. Giving both Y/N and Jon something extra in their lunches to make the little emergency feel more like a special short sleep over.
At pickup Alfred showed up, when Y/N asked what happened he didn’t have a clear answer. Trying to talk around the questions Y/N had and doing his best to distract her for the time being. Just saying everything will be explained at home. Nothing was explained when they got home.
Friday
Shit hit the fan Thursday afternoon so instead of going to school Y/N spent the day in the hospital. Sitting by Bruce’s side as Dick and Alfred tried to take care of everything else. Turned out that Bruce, as Batman, got into a bigger mess than he could handle alone, even with the help of his Robin's. He has two broken ribs, a concussion and a broken arm. All some villain of the week’s fault, they were stronger then expected so everything went tits up. Of course they told the doctors that Bruce had a work related accident. Something about falling down the stairs, because the elevator not working at Wayne Enterprise.
Going home that night was hard since both Damian, Y/N and Tim , not wanting to leave Bruce’s side. Jason and Dick finally got the three home once they fell asleep on Bruce’s hospital bed. It was a tight fit on that hospital bed, bur Bruce would be in discomfort if it ment for his kids to be comfortable and safe. Bruce gave his eldest boy’s a tired smile as they went home, making them promise to at least get Y/N to school on time next week with him not being able to drive. He didn’t want to deal with the angry teachers if Y/N didn’t go again because of him. 
<----------------------------------------------------->
That weekend the whole family made sure to go to Bruce and visit him a lot. Sometimes not even leaving or only leaving when one of the nurses told them it was really time to leave their father alone to sleep. They made sure the press didn't know a lot about the accident and that Dick knew what to do for Wayne Enterprise until Bruce got better. The older siblings had a lot on their shoulders, but with the help of Alfred and the Kent family everything went as good as it could get.
Y/N made a promise on sunday to be on her best behavior the next few weeks for drop off and pick up. As long as it was Alfred or Barbara who picked her up at the right time and the right place. So there wouldn’t be any confusion, emergencies or waiting. Making sure to at least visit Bruce 3 times a week in the hospital until he got better.
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d-targaryenshoe · 1 year ago
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Eternal Hope - Anthony Bridgerton
Word Count: 2053
Summary: When one's best friend tells you a rather complex secret about your husband, doubts start to take over your mind, am I right?
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You and Anthony Bridgerton were the perfection of an ideal couple, your marriage a testament to the power of love and commitment. 
You were a vision of innocence and purity, your heart as untainted as the snow that covered the ground on your wedding day.
 He was the embodiment of devotion, his every action a reflection of his deep affection for you. To the outside world, you were the picture-perfect duo, your lives a fairytale come true.
 But your best friend, Philipa Featherington, knew better. Her family had seen Anthony Bridgerton in his younger days before he had met you and settled down.
 Back then, he had been known as quite the rake, a man who was more interested in the pleasures of the flesh than in finding true love. 
Despite his charming exterior, there was something dark and dangerous lurking beneath the surface.
It was this knowledge that made Philipa feel a mixture of awe, envy, and a tiny thread of worry for you, her friend.
One afternoon, as the two of you sat in the parlor, sipping tea and enjoying the warmth of the sun, Philipa decided to share the past with you. 
"You know, y/n," she began, her voice low and conspiratorial, "I sometimes wonder how you ever managed to tame that wild beast of a man." 
Philipa nodded towards the golden ring on your finger. "Before you came along, Anthony was quite the scoundrel."
Your eyes widened in surprise. "Philipa, I cannot believe that you would say such a thing about my husband!" you exclaimed. "Anthony is the most loving, attentive man I could ever hope for!"
Philipa smiled sympathetically, knowing that you meant every word you said. But she also knew that there was more to the story than you realized. 
"Yes, yes," she said, waving her hand dismissively.
 "Of course, he is different now. But you must remember that everyone here has known him for years, and some saw firsthand the things he used to do. He could be quite ruthless, y/n. He never cared about anyone's feelings but his own."
Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you sure you're not overstating?" you asked hesitantly. "Anthony has always been so kind to me."
Philipa looked you in the eye. "I wish I were," she said simply. 
"But the truth is, Anthony Bridgerton was once a very different man. And while I'm glad that he's changed, and that you're so happy together, I can't help but wonder if you know who he is."
Your heart sank at your friend's words. You wanted to believe that Philipa was wrong, that Anthony could never have been anything but the devoted husband you knew now. 
But a tiny seed of doubt began to take root in your mind. Perhaps there was more to Anthony's past than you had realized.
"I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love Anthony with all my heart, and he loves me just as much. He's been nothing but faithful and kind since the day we met."
Philipa reached over and took your hand in hers. "I'm not saying that he isn't faithful to you now," she said gently.
 "But you must understand that the man you married is not the same man who was running through the streets of London, chasing after any skirt that crossed his path."
You bit your lip, trying to process everything your friend was saying.
You wanted to believe that Anthony was as innocent and pure as you were, but the memories of Philipa's stories kept creeping into your thoughts.
 Could it be possible that there was more to Anthony than you knew?
As you sat alone in the carriage, making your way home from your visit to Philipa, your heart felt heavy with doubt. 
The wind howled outside, and the horses' hooves clattered against the cobblestone streets, but you could barely hear any of it over the voice in your head.
 What if Philipa was right? What if Anthony had been dissatisfied with you in some way? 
You tried to convince yourself that it was ridiculous, that Anthony was the most loving husband a woman could ask for.
 But the thought lingered, refusing to be shaken off.
Your mind drifted back to the beginning of your courtship, when Anthony had been so attentive, always showering you with compliments and affection. 
He had made you feel beautiful and desirable in a way that no one else ever had. But then, as time went on, you began to wonder if perhaps he was growing bored with you. 
He had started spending more time at his club, and when he was home, he seemed distracted.
You tried to talk to him about it, but he always brushed your concerns aside, insisting that everything was fine.
You closed your eyes, the tears beginning to well up in their corners. It hurt you to think that Anthony might not find you beautiful anymore, that he might be seeking pleasure elsewhere. 
The thought made you feel so insecure, so unworthy of his love. As the carriage pulled up in front of your home, you forced a smile onto your face, trying to convince yourself that everything was going to be all right.
 But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right between you.
You climbed out of the carriage and hurried up the steps to your front door, your heart racing with anticipation and fear.
 Anthony was supposed to have returned home hours ago, but he hadn't come back yet.
You knocked on the door, your knuckles white from gripping the handle.
 When the butler answered, you forced a bright smile, trying to hide the turmoil within her.
 "Hello, Thomas," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "Is Lord Bridgerton inside?"
Thomas, ever the attentive servant, noticed something amiss in your expression. "I believe Lord Bridgerton is still at the club, Lady Bridgerton," he said gently. "Shall I send up a tray for him?"
You hesitated for a moment, your brow furrowing in confusion. 
"Yes," you managed to say, "that would be lovely. Thank you, Thomas." You turned and made your way upstairs to your bed chamber, your steps heavy with unease. 
You couldn't help but wonder what Anthony was doing at the club for so long, and why he hadn't come home yet. 
The thought of him with another woman, enjoying himself in ways he never seemed to enjoy with you, made your stomach churn.
You busied yourself with straightening the bedclothes and rearranging the pillows, trying to distract yourself from the growing ache in your heart.
 But as the minutes ticked by and Anthony still hadn't returned, your anxiety only grew worse. 
You couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that perhaps Philipa had been right all along. 
Maybe Anthony's past truly was catching up with you, and your marriage wasn't as strong as you had once believed it to be.
Finally, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs.
 Your heart leaped into your throat as you hurried over to the window, peeking out through the curtains.
 There he was, striding up the walkway, his shoulders squared and his head held high. He looked every bit the gentleman you had fallen in love with all those years ago.
 But as he ascended the stairs and disappeared from your view.
Your stomach was knotted with fear. You waited until you heard the butler announce his arrival before you made your way down the hallway, trying to compose yourself.
 When you finally stepped into the entryway, Anthony turned toward you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "There you are, dearest," he said, his voice warm and affectionate. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gotten off to."
Your heart sank even further. You forced a smile and walked toward him, trying to ignore the voice in your head that kept saying that this wasn't real, that he wasn't truly happy to see you.
 As you moved toward each other, you let yourself be enveloped in his embrace, breathing in his familiar cologne, feeling the strength of his arms around you.
 For a moment, you let yourself believe that everything was going to be all right.
"I was just waiting in the parlor, my lady," Thomas interjected, clearing his throat. "Shall I bring up the tray for Lord Bridgerton now?"
"Yes, please," Anthony said, stepping away from you. "That would be lovely, Thomas. Thank you." 
He turned back to you, reaching out to take your hand. "Come, my dear. Let's go eat in the privacy of our chamber. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."
Your heart skipped a beat. What could he possibly need to discuss? You forced another smile and allowed him to lead you up the stairs and into your bed chamber, following him like a nervous child as he took a seat at the table.
 He poured you each a glass of wine before sitting back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you.
 "Y/n," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "I need to talk to you about something."
Your stomach twisted into knots. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "What is it?"
Anthony took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you, y/n. More than anything in this world. You are my wife, my partner, my best friend. But I've been feeling...disconnected from you lately. Like something is missing between us."
 He paused, searching your eyes for some sign of understanding. "I want us to be closer. More intimate. I want to feel the way I used to feel when I looked at you, the way I felt when we first met."
Your heart ached as you listened to his words. 
A part of you wanted to believe him, to believe that you could find your way back to the love you once shared. 
But another part of you couldn't help but wonder if it was all just an act if he was only trying to save face. 
You took a sip of your wine, trying to steady your nerves. "I...I want that too," you said, your voice trembling. "I want us to be closer, to feel connected again. But...I don't know how."
Anthony studied your face, his expression softening. 
"I think we need to be honest with each other," he said. "To share our fears and our desires. To...explore each other." He took a deep breath, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. 
"I want to make love to you, y/n. Not just tonight, but every night. I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I desire you."
Your cheeks flushed at his words, your heart racing. A part of you wanted to believe that he meant it, that he wanted you the way he used to. 
But another part of you couldn't help but wonder if it was all just a ploy to ease his conscience, to make himself feel better about whatever it was he had been doing. 
You looked up at him, searching his eyes for some sign of truth.
"I'm...I'm not sure," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I want to try, Anthony. I want us to try. But I need you to promise me that...that you'll always be honest with me. That you'll never keep anything from me."
He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I promise you, my love," he said solemnly. 
"I will always be honest with you. And I swear I will never keep anything from you. Not again." His grip on your hand tightened, and you could feel the warmth of his palm through your gloves. "I want this to work between us, y/n. More than anything."
You closed your eyes, trying to decide what to believe. Part of you wanted to believe him, to trust that he could change, that you could find your way back to the love you once shared. 
But another part of you was still so insecure, still so hurt by the betrayal. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might come.
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magicalqueennightmare · 2 months ago
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Meeting Belle
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Bucky Barnes x Reader (Nicknamed Belle)
You've been best friends with Sarah since high school so when you go to take her boys to school and there's a man on her couch you don't know, you're a bit concerned
You had promised Sarah you’d take the boys to school. It was sprinkling rain and supposed to be like this most of the week. Luckily you didn’t have to be into work until nine so it worked out beautifully. You walked out of your place to your jeep and slid in. Her place was just around the corner from yours. Hers and Sam’s mom had been a god sent when you were younger. That woman had stepped in for you and your brother when your parents checked out. Your brother was living in Texas now but you were still right here home in Louisiana.  
You pulled up to her place and jumped out of your jeep, slamming the door behind yourself. The doors on that thing wouldn’t close if you didn’t put a little force behind them. The boys loved it but Sarah would shake her head at them when they’d laugh because of you arguing with it  “Aunt Belle likes to act like she’s the beast at times boys”  Belle was a long lasting nickname from Sarah, way back from when the two of you were in high school. When you’d raised an eyebrow at her she’d simply tapped your book “Always reading and you’re so damn pretty. Plus she is your favorite princess” so Belle was called nowadays more than your actual name.
You tried the handle and it was unlocked so you walked in “Cass! Aj! Get a move on fellas!” you walked around into the living room where the boys were and instinctively shoved them both behind you when your eyes landed on a man you’d never seen before laying on the couch. He was gorgeous, yeah but the metal arm and you not knowing him meant your claimed nephews were going behind you.
He slowly stood up, hands held out in front of him “Easy doll. Ask the boys, they know me” you shook your head, keeping a hand on Cass and one on Aj. “SARAH! THERE’S A MAN IN YOUR HOUSE AND IT AINT SAM!” she walked around the corner laughing “Belle, you do have a way with words”
She observed the scene and nodded her head approvingly “Got to say, I love that you my boys enough to stand between them and a super soldier but he’s harmless well not harmless but is to us. This is Sam’s friend Bucky” your eyes flew back to the guy, studying him. His hair was shorter, new arm but yeah that was Bucky Barnes. Holy hell, leave it up to you to stand ten toes down against a one hundred and something year old super soldier who could literally snap you like a twig. 
Sam came in the backdoor, having been summoned by you screaming and grinned “So you met Belle Bucky” “Belle?” Bucky looked towards you with a slight grin. Damn he really was gorgeous. Standing up where you could see him and know he wasn’t a threat to the boys meant you could fully appreciate the broad chest under that blue henley and those damn dogtags dangling along with how bright his blue eyes were when he smiled at you. 
“Belle is a nickname the Wilsons tagged me with in highschool” you explained. Sam told Bucky your actual name then said “But she was always reading, didn’t want to give any of those losers in her high school the time of day and was pretty like Belle plus we have like three different halloweens worth of pictures from when we were younger where she dressed as Belle” you stuck your tongue out at him “Easy Samuel. Just cause you’re Captain America now, don’t get cocky. Me and Sarah can steal take you” 
Sarah nodded “I already told him that” Bucky grinned “I like her already” you winked at him “Get to know me Barnes and you’ll love me in no time” and saw a light blush grace his cheeks. Talk about a damn confidence boost to start your day! You just made Bucky fucking Barnes blush! 
You saw Sam shoot Bucky a look and weren’t sure what it was about but you cut your eyes at Sarah and she wiggled her eyebrows. You shook your head “Ok well boys now that aunt Belle made a fool of herself, let's get you to school before I’m late to work”
You turned to walk out and Bucky called your name. You turned around and he waved a hand towards where the boys were running towards your jeep “You didn’t know me, you got between your nephews and danger. Nothing to be embarrassed of” you grinned “I hope you stick around Bucky” 
You headed down the doorsteps and could hear Sam cackle “Dude, you are as red as a tomato!” and heard Sarah scolding him. You couldn’t get the grin off your face the entire way of dropping the boys off and into work. 
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You walked into Sarah’s house a few days later, juggling the bags of groceries she’d asked you to pick up. You tried helping her and the boys as much as you could, hell if you were being honest the only real home cooked meals you ate were ones you helped cook in her place. You always just grabbed a little something when left to your own devices.
You kicked the door open with your foot and when you started to walk in the bag nearly ripped but Bucky popped around the corner. Your eyes widened. “Where the hell did you come from?” he smiled “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” as he scooped up all four bags easily and carried them towards the kitchen. You watched with a raised eyebrow and a grin “I mean, not complaining but I thought you left a few days ago”
He nodded “I did” then looked over his shoulder at you “I came back” you felt your face warm “Where is everyone?” he tilted his head towards the back door “The boys are playing, Sam’s jogging and Sarah was firing up the grill” 
You laughed lightly “Oh yeah, you’re a Brooklyn boy. Have you ever had any good Louisiana cooking?”  he shook his head and you grinned “You’re in for a treat in that case” he watched you with a smile “I’m up for anything doll” you felt your stomach flip “That sounds promising” and saw a blush grace his cheeks. 
You shook your head and grabbed his metal hand, considering it was closest to you. His eyes widened when you didn’t seem bothered and you grinned “What?” he shook his head “You’re something else Belle” you laughed lightly “Oh Bucky, you haven’t seen anything yet. Come on” and pulled him towards the door. “Me, cass and Aj always lure Sam into a water balloon fight. You in?” he laughed “As long as I’m on your team” you nodded “Of freaking course” and he laughed “Then I’m in darlin”
@desimarie12
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venusindelusion · 6 months ago
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Giving In (to the Love): Townie
1st chapter
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SUMMARY: If you thought you had terrible luck before, tonight will definitely prove that your life is jinxed when a misunderstanding with a pink haired girl makes your college life a little more difficult. WC: 1.3K PAIRING: Vi (Arcane) x Fem!Reader WARNINGS/TAGS: MDNI, mentions of alcohol, drugs (weed), underage drinking, miscommunication, and obviously cursing. A/N: I'm currently obsessed with Vi and I need more slow burn fics of her so this is totally self indulgent. Also, english isn't my first language so apologies if there is (surely) any mistakes, please enjoy :) more notes at the end btw Next chapter
The loud music throbbed through the walls, echoing in your head as you were waiting outside the bathroom door. It felt like you've been standing there for ages, waiting for whoever was inside to finally let you have the chance to go to the bathroom. You knock on the door again, awaiting an answer, but all you can hear is the sound of that damn music, so you decide to go downstairs again.
Putting a feet in front of the other feels painfully unnatural, all you want to do is lay down and puke somewhere, but you couldn't find any spot that wasn't crowded and you certainly don't want your classmates seeing you in that state. It would be so embarrassing if someone took a picture of you vomiting the noodles you had for dinner because you were so lazy to cook a proper meal before drinking. Now you regret it.
Once you reach the final step of the stairs, you look for your phone in one of your pockets. It's a good thing you decided to wear cargo pants instead of a dress; otherwise, in your state, you would have lost your purse with your phone and little money with it.
"Why are the letters so tiny?" you tried to text your friend, she brought you here and she should be the one to save you now, "She'll understand," you think as the only word you're able to type and text her is "Out".
Looking around you see some people dancing, couples sticking their bodies together and things getting heated. You can feel your legs trembling a bit, unable to hold your weight much longer, your head spinning and the music painfully penetrating your ears. Your friend is nowhere to be seen and you're getting nautious again, so you decide to walk to the kitchen and get some water.
"Fuck, where is it?" you wander around in this unfamiliar house for what felt like forever until you catch a glance at someone coming out from a room with bottles in her hands. You don't recognize her from class, you would've noticed her peculiar blue hair and long braids, and how she looks a bit younger than you or your classmates. She looks back at you with her eyes wide open like a deer in headlights, then laughs and continues her way to what you presume is the backyard. You figure that if she got alcohol bottles from there, there must be water as well.
"Bingo!" you scream a little louder than you'd like once you cross the door and see the kitchen, walking to the fridge and taking out a bottle of water. You feel your phone vibrating inside your pocket, you take it out and read your friend's "Coming." reply while taking a sip of that sweet and very much needed liquid.
"Fuck!" you spit the remainings of it, feeling your throat burning and your stomach growling even more than before. Who puts vodka inside a water bottle?
You lay against the kitchen counter for a bit in a lame attempt to stay focused, you just have to stay put and wait for your friend to come find you from wherever she was in this damn house.
Determined to not pass out, you go outside following the blue haired girl's trail to get some fresh air. You feel like your head is going to explode, you've been taking for granted your ability to walk without stumbling into things. Your eyes feel heavy, blinking slower everytime as you work your way outside and coordinate your brain and hand to open the door.
It's way less crowded than you thought, only a few people smoking and chatting, you see a couple making out against the wall like no one can see them. But you can. And it's disgusting.
The air is a bit refreshing, definitely better than the smells of heated bodies, booze and weed that filled the house inside. Not that it makes you any less wasted, but it's something. You go around the house trying to find a spot where no one can see you once your stomach decides it can't take it anymore and you see the blue haired girl from before laying down with her eyes closed and empty bottles surrounding her. She's passed out. Walking as quickly as you can to her, you shake her body and try to wake her up. She does nothing besides groaning and mumbling nonsense, so you start to panic and look around you, begging internally that you can find anyone who's more sober than you to help this girl. Your stomach keeps growling at you and your throat burns, tightens, threatening to throw out all the damn booze you drank before. God, what were you thinking?
The world spins around you as you try to focus your vision on this girl and you were right, she is definitely much younger than you, no alcohol should have been near her at first. You reach for her hand, trying to free the bottle from its hold so you can try and sit her up, worried that she'd throw up and drown in her own puke. It takes all your drunk strength to push the bottles around and move her body. While you're grabbing one of the bottles to throw it away, you hear heavy steps coming closer to you and thank the heavens for hearing your pleading; it must be the help you needed.
You turn around and see a muscular figure, heavy boots stomping on the ground with fierce and her pink hair fluorescent in the lights; she looks back at you with a scowl, her hands in fists and quickens her pace. You gulp.
The air around you gets thicker, heavier, hotter; it's like she's inhaling every atom of oxygen while you shrink down to shrump size, getting closer to you as your head is spinning, trying to focus your vision and stand up.
"What the fuck did you do to her?" she asks, her face so close to yours that the air exhaled feels like a shot straight into your face.
You only manage to mumble something incoherent and she pulls you aside, making you stumble over your own feet as she is starring at the bottles.
"She's wasted…" you hear her whispering to herself, scrunching over to caress the younger girl's face and removing the lose hairs from it, "you gave her fucking booze?" she turns around and stares at you, her gaze filled with rage and frustration, you can feel it burning your eyelids.
"No, I—” your brain is betraying you, you put your hands against the wall trying to remain on your feet and explain the situation, but your throat is threatening to let it all out for good.
She clicks her tongue and lifts the young girl from the ground, holding her like she weights nothing on her arms and takes off, leaving you feeling miserable and confused.
You hear a voice calling your name and fast steps approaching, you turn your head and see your friend. Relief washes over your body, your legs no longer able to hold you standing and you give in so you sit on the grass.
"Cait…" were the only words coming out of your mouth in a whisper before you throw out and felt your eyelids closing themselves.
A/N: comments and reviews are appreciated! if you want more let me know :) i have a long series in mind for this
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hxrtnett · 2 months ago
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pasture child – luke castellan
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𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ luke castellan falls in love with his town’s church girl before he’s sent off to camp half-blood, he thinks of her with every return. he tries to find her years later after he never returned. inspired by pasture child by dominic fike.
warnings/mentions. swearing, religion mention (following lyrics of song), kissing, luke grows up and never dies in this timeline, talking of female assets (teenage boy antics but not terrible), mental heath & cps (luke’s mother), i also delayed his full time or age to his admission to camp half-blood so they’re 15/16 ish in the scenes before he’s gone forever, praying to mother mary, atheist luke
pairing. luke castellan x mortal!fem!reader
part two
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at a young age, luke always found himself in the church near home. the door was always open in the spring time, and always unlocked in the colder weather. he was always allowed some shelter or quiet when his mother had her times.
luke wasn’t quite unknown in the town, everyone knew of his mother’s mental health, how it fluctuated frequently and sometimes he’d be watched over as she was hospitalized. luke had ran away from home and cps many times. so, his name was known in the town.
luke’s only enjoyment in his younger years and young teenage years was camp half-blood, and when he went to the church and saw you; the pastor’s daughter of the church he escaped to.
every time he ran away or returned home from summer camp, luke found his way to you. as he grew up and you did too, you both talked about childish things that led to normal teenager topics. you were more than the pastor’s child.
luke slowly grew a heavy crush on you, now as a teenager he watched you grow older and more rebellious to your father’s rules or restrictions. you always wore long skirts and modern shirts or dresses, sometimes pants and a fitting top that your father grimaced at, despite you respecting his modesty rule. you hated it though, luke always heard you complain about it, especially in the start of the summer.
“it’s getting warm out, i now,” you looked around to make sure your father wasn’t near, “sneak clothes in my bag, dad lets me drive the truck now so i change when im gone.” you confessed to luke. he was surprised, you were good and never disobeyed your father or your church, but he was wrong. “what do you wear?” luke asked, curious and looking around also.
“i’ll wear tank tops out without a sweater, skirts that are above my knees, or shorts. my dad doesn’t know i have em, my mama does but it’s just a secret. can you keep a secret?” you asked, informing him on a vision he was missing out on in the summer. he could picture you in shorts, your legs on display and the jean curved to your bottom perfectly, matching it with a tank top that showed your cleavage or a bit of your stomach, alongside that your gold cross pressed against your chest. the thought made his teenage mind run wild. he nodded at the words, “i can keep a secret.” he spoke, looking at you with wide eyes.
your smile blossomed and he felt his heart beat harder, he always had feelings for you, but he knew that this was the last time he’d be with you; his mother had died. he had no where to stay once he left. your father opened the door and you both split apart before smiling at your father. “hi dad.” you greeted him softly, crossing your legs and clasping your hands together. “we were talking about summertime.” you said softly, pushing your hair out of your face.
your father nodded and his eyes flickered between you both, a bit suspicious. he brushed it off and fully looked at the demi-god, “luke, do you want to have a funeral for your mother? i know you both aren’t a member truly, but you’re here a lot. we respect you and care for you and your loss. we can honor her.” your father offered.
luke looked between you and your father, seeing the striking similarity in your faces but difference in the way you presented yourselves. your father composed, you more relaxed. “yes sir, thank you father.” luke agreed, hating the words he spoke but he did it out of respect. he loved his mother, he missed her truly. the three of you spoke the plan and you placed your hand on luke’s arm gently, making his face burn and look sheepish under your father’s stare.
you two were soon dismissed by him, walking through the church. “where do you go in the summer? i wish you could be here.” you said softly, bumping shoulders with him. “oh, summer camp. the one cps lady found it for me and takes me away as a break from it all.” luke informed. it was true actually, the cps lady was actually a camp half-blood counselor who was set to find him, it explained his mother’s insanity and the weird things he saw. “when are you leaving?” you asked, fingers finding his and intertwining your hands, looking around to see if your father was around. he forbid the action with boys, only dismissing it when you had your hand on top of luke’s, not interlaced.
“i leave this weekend.” he informed, keeping hold of your hand, “i’ll call you before i go” he added, both of you standing in a vacant hallway. you leaned against the wall, “you will?” you asked, hopeful. “yeah, always. one of our night calls before i go.” he assured, hand still holding yours. throughout the years, you both called one another at night around ten, though your parents rule was lights out at nine. you both talked amongst one another quietly, luke and you both going silent every now and then if you thought you heard a noise in the night. sometimes you fell asleep on the line, making him laugh and have to hang up.
the next and new idea you presented surprised him, “can i see you tomorrow night?” you asked, curious. tomorrow was friday, he left sunday night. luke thought about it, “sneaking out?” he asked you, taken aback slightly at your change. typically he saw you in the daytime, this was different. “yeah! cmon we can go for a walk under the stars, wouldn’t that be lovely?” you spoke, bribing him before hearing a door close nearby. you both stood up straight and you put your hands behind your back, acting like nothing different was going on.
you smiled at your dad who walked to the office, it instantly dropped once he left, luke could feel your nerves; you weren’t the only one with a shitty parent. “we can.” luke said softly.
so luke did as told, standing under the streetlight at 10pm down your street, waiting for you.
meanwhile you climbed out your window, a stone under the sill and your door closed per usual. you had a fence to climb up and down by your window, so it was easy to leave.
luke expected to see you meet him in your normal attire, but it took him by surprise when you ran down the street in your tennis shoes, shorts, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie you didn’t even zip up. you stopped in front of him, smiling as you breathed heavily, “hi.” you spoke, making him smile in return, “hi.” he said back, cupping your face to kiss you.
this wasn’t the first time he did this, you two had met in private many times in the church, kissing a bit. even in public you two found your ways to be romantic, but not enough for the church ladies to spread gossip. and you weren’t terribly rebellious, so they couldn’t say anything, you just had a secret romance your father didn’t know of. your mother knew, she knew everything, and she didn’t dare tell your father because she once was like you. there had been arguments between you both over it, so she picked her battles and you picked yours.
you loved luke, you hoped to marry him. a lovesick teenager you were, but he was perfect to you. you kissed him again before pulling him in the direction of the playground, planning to lay on the playscape and look at the stars.
you both spoke amongst one another, luke’s hand in yours while you laid beside each other. “i prayed for the first time.” he admitted, making you look at him in shock, “wow! really?” you asked, “the quiet atheist prayed, how surprising.” you teased, making him laugh. you obviously didn’t know the demi-god fully, he knew gods were real. he wasn’t truly an atheist, though he didn’t like his father and the other gods that ignored him. he just had some resentment towards any form of god presented towards him, but for once he did pray to the god you looked towards. your laughter died down, “who? and what did you ask?” you pried, looking at him.
he noticed the sparkle in your eyes, the moon illuminating your features, if you were a demi-god like him he knew you’d be aphrodite’s daughter. but, you were a mortal, and he couldn’t love you like you wanted. you both had two different worlds, two different lives, he only was immersed in yours when you were beside him. he also knew he’d live longer than you, and it’d pain him to see you pass when he’d still be alive. but he savored the moments with you because somehow, the monsters didn’t bother him when you were near, and the demi-god curses paused when you were with him.
“i asked mary to watch over my mother, since you constantly say how comforting it is to pray to her.” luke spoke, telling you the full truth. he also asked his father to show up instead of being a deadbeat. but that wouldn’t be answered. you smiled again, “holy shit luke castellan, you asked a higher power for something.” you said in surprise. he rolled his eyes, “shut up.” he spoke, nudging you as you laughed. you sat up and looked down at him, “i don’t expect you to be a child of god,” how ironic, “but it’s cool you tried out something new cause of me.” you finished, leaning down to kiss him. luke met you halfway and sat up slowly, kissing you, his hands finding your figure he knew and now fully saw, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.
you both stopped eventually, knowing it was too risky to be out as the sun was starting to rise. luke knew you would fall asleep beside him laying under the stars, you needed the rest he could easily miss. luke laced his hand with yours, walking back to your home for the last time. luke watched as you climbed up towards your window, eyes watching your backside a bit too much, then leaving back to his house that was slowly emptying.
you called for the last time saturday night after the funeral, not knowing it was the last time you’d see one another and speak before his return. the call was longer, luke tried to get every ounce of words from you, getting to hear your soft laugh and voice. he knew it would be the last time he heard it until he returned, and he didn’t know when that was. luke had some responsibilities and figures to return to at camp half-blood, and he had no other home. he didn’t plan to return to your state, return to the town. though you were there, he couldn’t stay in a foster house just to see you. he couldn’t risk the monsters making him seem insane in public.
“goodnight luke.” you said softly, making tears form in his eyes softly, he smiled and his breath hitched. “goodnight y/n, sleep well, i love you.” he admitted, taking the jump. you were silent on the other end, “i love you too. be safe.” you said softly, soon he could hear you hang up.
finding you was difficult. luke returned to your hometown, scarred and much older, twenty-three now. he had battled, went to war, betrayed others, got his monsters under control, found his father, was possessed by kronos, killed kronos and nearly himself, and all he wanted was you in the end.
he knew he betrayed you, and how it was hard for a mortal and demi-god to live and love. but finding you and making it up to you was what he survived for.
he found your father, who was surprised at his return, and asked for your location. he learned that you moved states and resented your family. he also learned that you became a well known author, writing books for those who dared to break out of their forced norms. the books had striking characters, all fictional. but, you released an autobiography the year he returned. luke bought it instantly, as your father refused to promote it.
luke struggled with reading the mortal language, though it wasn’t as difficult as he last remembered. luke managed to read through your book, reading about your life and learning your traumas and resentment you dared to share. in none of the pages luke existed, he thought maybe you alluded to him as one of the guys you talked about, but the timeline didn’t add up in his mind.
luke felt a bit hurt, how he returned to you so dearly and saw how dead he was to you by not reading anything about him.
however, when luke opened the book for the final time, he managed to finally catch the dedication.
dedicated to: luke castellan, wherever you are, if you’re even alive. i still think of our last call.
luke read it, slightly appalled. his thumb brushed over the words as if he could bring them to life and bring you into his arms again, holding you against him. luke knew he could navigate through your world easily, he could blend in as a mortal and find you.
so, he did.
luke rented a car and read the back of the book where it stated where you resided in. he wanted to find you and tell you everything he lived through and tell you the truth, despite knowing the dangers it could bring to both of you. he just wanted you in his arms again.
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part two?
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