#or even the final season/s probably

[lonesomedotmp3]

kind of tempted to watch the society but if I was going to watch a tv show about a group of kids left alone after their parents mysteriously disappear I'd just finally find out how cbbc's the sparticle mystery concluded...

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Thinking thoughts about Abuela being back and with this backstory about her being taken in by charlatans and Eddies whole catholic guilt thing and how the two things kind of play into one another as an exploration of faith and being taken in by something.

Abuela giving all her money to the tarot card readers etc because she was searching for something - for connection (with Abuelo) - trying to recapture what she had lost, and How Eddie has spoken about trying to re-find the magic he had with Shannon - how Eddie hasn't actually fully reconciled the Shannon of it all when it comes to relationships and how his Catholic guilt connects into that.

How Marisol as a physical representation of Catholicism is part of that narrative - how Eddie is entering a place where he has to chose his path - in order to move on from Shannon he needs to fully square the hole - catholic or non catholic. And how that needs to happen first - before he can begin his queer journey!

[deus-ex-mona]

tfw you’re just trying to look up some current affairs and end up on a late night wikidive instead

[cs-eg]

scare tactics remake is rlly good??

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder. 

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[jaylver]

LOVE AT FIRST SPEED — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: World champion, record breaker, winner of hundreds of races, what does Lee Heeseung want other than that? Apparently, love. Being the greatest when it comes to racing doesn't mean that he naturally has a flourishing love life. True, there were many girls already lining up for him, but he knew none of them were truly sincere, leaving him devoid of love and unconditionally craving it. That was until everything changed when he met you, his new next door neighbour that doesn’t even know he’s a famous F1 racer. Three dates. three different countries, but only one chance to make you his.

OR! in which a world champion tries scoring the girl next door.

presenting ... driver of scuderia ferrari f1 team

PAIRINGS: F1 driver!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers/neighbours to lovers, love at first sight, he falls first but she falls harder, formula one au, sports au, romance, angst

WARNING(S): profanities, mentions of alcohol, drinking and partying, lots of feelings being self questioned, slight miscommunications/misunderstandings

WC: 29k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's finally ... here ... please leave your feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated !! your feedbacks will mean a lot to me since i'm lowkey second guessing if this is good LMAO enjoy ♡

part 1 of 'no brakes' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2024 all rights reserved.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, LATE 2022

Lee Heeseung was drunk.

Going out with the boys was probably a mistake. Look, it was off season and everyone was back in Monaco, so it definitely sounded like a great idea to go out for a night out, right? Wrong. 

Letting Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Yeonjun and some of the other drivers drag him to a well known club in the city was his first mistake of the night. The second was accepting all of the shots they offered, acting as if the celebrations of him winning his third world championship wasn’t over yet. The alcohol that took over his senses only made him stumble to the dance floor, dancing wildly with girls surrounding him, not giving a care if a camera was capturing everything. That was his third mistake.

By the end of the night, every one of them were equally shitfaced. It wasn’t a great look, and he was sure their personal trainers weren’t going to be happy at all. Heeseung, in particular, was taking it better than the rest, though still slurring and stumbling around, at least he managed to tell his address fully to the taxi driver. 

Getting dropped off at the lobby looking absolutely destroyed was humbling. He kept his head low, reminding himself that he had a reputation to maintain and went for the elevator, pressing the number of his floor. He was leaning against the wall, holding it for support as he slowly sobered up, trying his best to feel around his body for his keycard.

“Fuck,” he cursed out, unable to remember where it was with that hazy mind of his. 

The elevator stopped at his floor with a ‘ding’, grabbing his attention from his ongoing search for the moment. He trudged along the quiet hallway, dragging his feet and mumbling his regrets. One thing’s for sure was that he should not rely on Jake for claiming it was a ‘light party’. Light party my ass.

Standing in front of his door to the apartment, he was dying to get in and crash into his comfortable bed. However, he remembered what he was struggling to find: his keycard. God, why me, he thought. 

His head was beginning to spin and it was not helping. He was slipping his hand into his back pockets, shirt pockets that didn’t even exist because he’s wearing a button up, then his socks, which was absolutely insane. No, Lee Heeseung was turning insane. At one point, he let out a sigh and leaned his head on his door, swearing that he was about to collapse out of fatigue.

“Uh—are you okay?” Was that a voice coming from the pits of his head? It couldn’t be, it was a woman’s voice. “Mister?”

Heeseung turned around in a blink of an eye, almost letting out a yelp in shock when his eyes landed on you. Even in his drunken daze, he was still able to make out how pretty you were. There you were, standing in a party dress that was enough to tell him you were out clubbing too, makeup that was intact and heels in one hand, creating a small height difference between him and you.

“Huh?” That was probably the dumbest thing he could let out at that moment. Wake up, he cursed at himself. “You’re not that old lady,”

“She moved away,” you guessed he was referring to the old lady that sold you her apartment, the one that was next to this … guy. “I’m guessing you were not here a few months ago to even realise I’m your new neighbour?”

Well, no, Heeseung was busy winning his championship in Abu Dhabi during then. 

He didn’t say that though, instead he shrugged, liking the fact that you were oblivious he was someone well known. “I travel for work, so not really. My apologies,”

“I see,” you nodded your head, continuously cautious, he could see that. “Do you have trouble entering your own home?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You were searching for something—even in your socks,”

“Oh,” he licked his lips, currently embarrassed. “I—uh—don’t know where my keycard is,”

“Have you searched your pockets?”

“Yes,”

“Wallet?”

Heeseung paused. “No …”

“Try searching, I’m sure it’s there somewhere,” you were so confident in saying that, which made Heeseung uneasy and doubtful. How would you know it was there and he didn’t? 

You pulled out your own keycard, pressing against the sensor and your door unlocked with a click, but before you went in and left Heeseung behind, you scrunch your nose up. “You should probably sober up … and also wash away the perfumes on your shirt. It’s heavy,”

Once you shut your door, Heeseung scoffed. He lowered his head to the sleeves of his button up shirt and inhaled, the smell of perfumes from the girls he danced with clung to the fabric desperately. He hated that you weren’t completely wrong. Then, he reached for his wallet, rolling his eyes at your voice in his head, but was once proven right again when he saw his glistening keycard there. For fuck’s sake.

Now, he was guessing he probably set a bad impression on you, making you think he was some stupid womaniser. Gosh, the way your eyes narrowed at him was burnt into his mind. 

Heeseung was not getting much sleep that night.

“Slept well?”

Fate had a play in hand, somehow setting Heeseung and you up by having the both of you exiting your apartment at the same time. The only difference was you being fresh and awake, ready to start your day while Heeseung was the total opposite. Hungover, body sore and dark circles under his eyes.

“Great,” he seethed out. 

No, Heeseung didn’t have a ‘great’ sleep. He was plagued by you. Yes, you. The neighbour that he didn’t even know existed until yesterday, the same one that had to witness him drunk and turning insane. It was funny knowing you probably didn’t even like him, but somehow, that was what bothered Heeseung. Everyone liked him. But you, apparently, or so your vibe told.

“Someone didn’t have their lucky charms this morning, huh?” you reached into your tote bag, Heeseung’s curious gaze following your every move. “Here,” you tossed a protein bar at him, the same brand that he eats occasionally. What were the odds?

“Don’t just stare at it. Eat it.”

Apparently Heeseung was staring at it too longingly, and until he heard what you said, he snapped up to look at you, mouth slightly agape. “Thanks,”

You smiled. You fucking smiled. Heeseung didn’t expect your teeny smile was enough to spur him on. This was cheesy, too cliche and very predictable. Did he think he was in a reenactment of Notting Hill except it’s called Monte Carlo instead? The feeling of falling at first sight was foreign to him, to have a crush on your neighbour was new to him, and he wasn’t going to take this well.

“Eat up.” you waved a little, turning your back to him and rushed for the elevator, leaving him on his own again. 

The small encounter was enough to make Heeseung more curious about you. He knew nothing about you, you were his neighbour, his goddamn neighbour, but it felt like he was in high school with a crush again. Was it even a crush? Was it admiration? Heeseung didn't want to overthink it, it's too early in the morning for that.

He made his way to his sleek Ferrari 488 Pista Spider, the one car that he was devoted to. It was easily recognisable in the streets of Monaco, the design was a custom made and a favourite of his, any fans could make out that Lee Heeseung was the one driving it.

The usual bunch, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon had invited him out to brunch. Heeseung knew damn well all of them were just as hungover as he was, or even worse, he thought they were quite brave for stepping out of the house. 

Making a few detours for grocery and miscellaneous items prompted him to be later than the rest. He was rushing to the cafe, seeing the back of his friends' heads from a distance. They were sitting at an outside table, as they always preferred, but what caught his attention was an extra head next to Jake's blond hair.

Was that the girl who followed Jake home yesterday? He wouldn't even second question it.

He was wrong. 

Making his way to the table, Heeseung greeted them with a good morning before looking at their faces. Well, the boys looked like them, but the girl, oh … the girl.

It was you. His neighbour. What were you doing sitting next to Jake? Seriously, Jake?

“Hey, man, sorry for not letting you know earlier but I invited my friend, is that okay with you?” Jake grimaces apologetically, offering a smile as compensation.

“It's alright,” Heeseung stared briefly at you, then took a seat next to Jay, the one opposite that faced you.

“Heeseung, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Heeseung,” Jake did a gesture between you and Heeseung with his hands, while you and him both looked at each other with a 'what the fuck is going on' expression.

“Hi—”

“She's my next door neighbour,” Heeseung didn't know why he blurted that out, he didn't even let you finish. 

The boys and you stared at him, incredulous but to a different extent. You had annoyance in your eyes, the others had disbelief. Maybe you were mad he interjected, but he felt he needed to get that out. 

“Uh—sorry,”

“He's your neighbour?” Jake cackled, his gaze flickering between you and Heeseung. “No, wait, you're his neighbour?”

You and Heeseung nodded in unison.

“Which means you guys knew each other already?”

“Not exactly,” you said, sipping a little of your latte. “I didn’t know his existence until yesterday, let alone his name,”

“Ditto,”

“Wow,” Sunghoon laughed at the side, both him and Jay witnessing everything in entertainment.

“Shocking,” Jay nudged Sunghoon.

“You guys will get along better than you’ll expect,” Jake said coolly, speaking from a deep knowing of you and Heeseung’s personality traits. However, you and Heeseung seemed doubtful, but didn’t comment on it. 

“So … if they are F1 drivers, that means you are one too,” you pointed a finger at him, eyebrows raised in question. 

“Yup,” Heeseung replied, popping his ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Three times world champion too,” Jake jerked his chin towards Heeseung, a look of pride on his face. “He’s literally insane,”

“It’s nothing,” Heeseung suddenly felt like he was put on the spot. Usually, he would be immune to all these compliments thrown at him, but this time with you around, he wanted to be lowkey. 

“Did you hear him?” Jay scoffed, making the others, you and Heeseung himself included, laugh. 

The conversation was interrupted with the waiter serving your orders. Pastries, bread, and Heeseung’s go-to hangover cure, a mixed fruit smoothie were placed on the table. Soon, everyone got comfortable and dug in, enjoying the cool weather of Monte Carlo.

“What brings you here, Y/N?” Heeseung finally got the confidence to ask you a question, letting his curiosity win over him. 

“I moved here because of my new job—"

“Because of me,” Jake chimed in unceremoniously, catching everyone else's attention at the table. Now, what did he mean by that?

“Basically, Jake hired me as his personal trainer,”

“And assistant,” Jake added, increasing Heeseung’s fascination and wonder. Since when did Jake change his personal trainer? Oh wait, he mentioned it. Something about wife’s pregnancy that his ex trainer needed time off. How could Heeseung forget this crucial information? 

“I’m going to have to keep him in check every race,”

“We’re glad you’re coming along,” Sunghoon clapped his hands, genuine happiness in his smiley features. “It’s time someone put this guy in place,” he snorted, pulling a laugh out of you. 

Your laugh. All it took was your laugh for Heeseung to disassociate from everything happening around him and place his focus on you. The wrinkles around your eyes when your lips stretched into a grin, smile lines adorning your face that he found breathtaking. Every part about you and your happiness was enough to make him smile as well.

Pause. Was he hearing himself clearly? 

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?” Jake rolled his eyes at Sunghoon, not appreciating the comment targeted at Jake’s known party behaviours.

“You know what I mean,” 

At that, Jake eyed you nervously, already having a feeling that you were going to be strict on him, rightfully so. Meanwhile, Heeseung was dying internally. He wanted to speak to you, but how was he able to when he wasn’t close to you? Instead, he was stuck with the two bozos, half-heartedly chewing on his croissant as he and the guys listened to you talk about your job and degree.

Whatever Heeseung thought possibly of you dissipated. The sharp gaze you gave him that night disappeared once he came to the realisation that you were nothing like what his mind made you out to be: scary and hard to get along with. Heeseung would admit, he makes the worst assumption of the people he first met, but some were true, as for you, you were nothing like that. He could tell you were warming up to him, probably also having the same misconception of him in your head. 

Once there were nothing but crumbs left on the plates, with the bill paid and everyone’s stomach filled, you and the guys got up from the table, making an exit. The awkward part arrived. Jay and Sunghoon were leaving on their own, Jake too, but what about you?

“Do you want me to drop you off—” Jake offered after Jay and Sunghoon were out of sight, leaving you, him waiting outside and Heeseung, who was still lingering in the cafe. You shook your head.

“You literally live on the opposite side of where I am, I don’t think that’s convenient,” you poked his shoulder, an unapproving frown pulled at your lips. “I’ll just hail a cab same like this morning,”

Clear worry was evident in Jake’s eyes. “You sure?”   

“I can drive you back,” Heeseung suddenly appeared by Jake's side, an innocent look on his face as he shoved his wallet into his back pocket. “We stay next to each other anyway,”

“Yeah, sure, thank you,” you breathed out in relief, initially being nervous at the thought of having to be alone, thankful Heeseung came in to save your ass.

“Now that’s settled, I’ll see you for training soon, Y/N. And Hee, you should hit the simulator soon, practice so you don’t get rusty!”

“Shut up,” Heeseung clicked his tongue in annoyance, but couldn’t resist a cheeky grin.

“Alright, bye guys!”

Jake soon disappeared around the corner, and the air turned thick with awkwardness. You didn’t mind Heeseung’s presence, but honestly, you didn’t know this man, or at least not enough. Without Jake’s familiarity and his comforting aura around you and Heeseung, you were unable to function well. Not when he’s your neighbour that you didn’t exactly get off on the right foot with, and truthfully, he was hot, to simply put it. You know how hot people tend to scare you? Yeah, that was him. Curse Jake for having hot friends.

“Shall we get going?”

You snapped out of your momentary inner monologue, nodding and hoisting your bag higher up your shoulder, letting Heeseung take the lead. Even though he was leading you towards his car, he didn’t try walking faster than you, constantly maintaining the same speed as you. You noticed him taking peeks at you occasionally when his pace started to speed up, then he would slow down again. It was a small detail that you took notice, appreciating it more than you should. 

The way to his car was quite a walk. He was walking beside you, always on the outside and made sure you walked on the inside. Was he always like this with everyone else? It was quiet between you two, but it was a comfortable silence. He was aware of your presence, you were aware of his; both were just too scared to be the first to break the ice, or so you thought.

“How did you meet Jake?” 

“Hm?” You snuck a glance at him, processing his question. “Oh, Jake. He’s my cousin,”

“Your—what?”

A humorous laugh slipped out of you. You loved this part, where everyone gets shocked at you casually dropping the news about your blood relation with Jake. Heeseung, on the other hand, realised that he wasn’t actually familiar with Jake’s family besides his parents and siblings. Seeing Heeseung being thoroughly shocked, you took the opportunity to continue.

“Yeah, he’s my cousin. Usually people don’t expect us to be related so I totally get your reaction,” a smile rests upon your lips, one that Heeseung didn’t miss. “I’m an only child, and he was the cousin that constantly played with me, so that’s mainly why we grew close,”

Heeseung unknowingly smiled at the thought of little Jake and you running around. He knew what his best friend was like, and realising the fact that he maintained the same outgoing personality was absolutely heartwarming. 

“Growing up, I knew he wanted to be an F1 driver, I’d occasionally tag along to his karting races. Soon, his F3, F2 races. It all went by like a blur, and suddenly he’s racing for an F1 team. That’s probably when I came to the realisation that I wanted to be a trainer too, I guess it was mainly because of that and him,” you shrugged, shying under the constant eye contact with Heeseung. He was all ears, never interrupting you once. 

“And now you get to tag along to every one of his races full time,” 

“Exactly,”

“Hey,” a thought suddenly sprang to his mind, wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows. “If you knew Jake was an F1 driver, then how did you not know I was one too?”

You snorted, shrugging your shoulders a little dramatically. “Well, sorry Mr Famous, I don’t like constantly watching cars drive in circles,”

“They’re not circles!”

“To me it is,” you heard a huff coming from him, laughing quietly under your breath. “I only kept up with Jake, but I guess I’ll start keeping up with you now, Mr three times world champion,”

“I’m honoured,” he placed a hand on his chest, flashing a toothy grin that made his nose crinkle, the sight unintentionally making your heart skip a beat. “You’ve got to support Ferrari,” he was referring to his own team, a sense of pride and honour as he said it, even you could tell how much he loved them.

“I don’t think Jake’s going to be happy about that,” you slowed down your steps as you approached a sports car that you figure was Heeseung’s, the Ferrari emblem shining brightly. “But, maybe I’ll have to make an exception,”

“You won’t regret it,” he said confidently, winking at you playfully, which earned him an eye roll from you. The change compared to his personality earlier on didn’t go unnoticed by you. The clumsy, shy and dorky him had a confident and cocky side to him. Noted.

Before you could reach down to open the door to the passenger side, Heeseung’s hand reached for it first, almost like it was his second instinct with how natural he was. He pulled the door open for you, and you turned to look at him, ignoring the minimal distance in between. Holding his eye contact for more than two seconds (yes, you counted) was intense. It took you everything to break his stare and enter his car, not missing his hand at the top of your head as you got in. 

You watched as he circled the car to get to his side, waiting patiently and sneakily looking around the interior. The hood of the car was closed, and you imagined for a second what it would be like to drive with the hood open, feeling the wind brush against your face. It was a two seater car, despite that, it was big and comfortable enough inside, the seats had you melted into it the moment you got in. So, this was what expensive cars felt like. 

Heeseung entered the car with a quiet grunt, revving the engine to a start and turned his head to check up on you, a small smile appearing on his face upon meeting your gaze. He caught you staring at him, didn’t he? 

“Nice car,” you complimented a little too awkwardly, which also made Heeseung chuckle stiffly, seemingly caught off guard too. 

“Thank you,” he smoothed his hand over the steering wheel, then pulled the car into drive. “Question, can I ask you something?”

You arched an eyebrow, wondering what was coming your way. Heeseung took that as a sign to continue, keeping his concentration on the road but actually, he just didn't want to face you as he asked the question.

“Be honest, that night when I was drunk, did that give you a bad impression? ‘Cause I swore your eyes was yelling it,”

Nothing prepared you for that. Not that it was bad, just unexpected. Moreover, you were surprised at him remembering the happenings that night, and not only that, to overthink it too? You couldn't blame him though, you would too.

“Okay, I'm being honest. Yeah, kind of? I thought you were some random drunk and I was scared for my life until I saw you were trying to get in—which I also thought you were breaking in at first—”

“That's harsh,”

“I had some drinks myself too, alright?” You snorted, remembering that night where you weren't fully drunk but intoxicated enough to think your next door neighbour, whose existence you didn't even know, was getting robbed. “You seemed fine, just maybe the heavy smell of perfume coming from you gave off a bad, and also odd first impression,”

“I swear I’m not some playboy,” it was a genuine misconception for most. Heeseung gave off the vibes of some womaniser that thinks he has power, money and influence just because he was a top Formula One racer, but truth be told, he was the opposite. The people closest to him knew that, not the one that the media created.

Judging from your sceptical raise of an eyebrow, Heeseung had a feeling you were doubting him. He feigned a shocked expression “Did you really think I’m the kind to bring a woman into my bed each night?”

“I didn’t say that! You’re a total opposite of what I thought you were—in a good way,”

“But your look was intending that you thought of it, about me being a playboy of some sort,”

“Maybe just a little, teensy bit,”

“I’m hurt,”

“It’s the aura,” you scrambled to pick up at the pieces, all while Heeseung enjoyed teasing you. “I mean, you’re cute, rich and talented, everybody wants you,”

“Doesn’t mean I want them either,” he pressed his lips in a flat line, shrugging lightly. Beside him, your eyes twinkled. What he said shouldn’t have set some small hope in you. Dude, you barely know him! But, you couldn’t help wanting him secretly. “Also, did you just call me cute?”

“I—” you sputtered, not expecting him to catch that. Heeseung was grinning like crazy. Oh, he was so definitely enjoying poking fun at you. You crossed your arm, turning your nose up at him. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,”

“I’m pretty sure you did,” he let out a chortle, finding your denial humorous and enjoyable. Just simply being with you was enjoyable. “I’m honoured … yet again,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, feeling your cheeks heating up just a bit. No way he caught you slacking like that. How did you even manage to pull that anyway? Whatever. 

The conversation soon died down, letting the music from the radio overtake the silence between you and him. On the drive back, you couldn’t take your eyes off the bypassing streets and buildings. You were in Monaco. That itself sounded surreal and unbelievable, and something you didn’t have in plan until now. The change was unexpected, but maybe it was something you needed.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect myself to be here right now,” you said out of the blue, speaking your mind ever so casually. You didn’t even realise yourself getting comfortable with Heeseung overtime, everything just seemed too natural when it comes to hanging around Heeseung. Was that normal?

“What do you mean?”

“I originally thought I’ll end up as a trainer in some football club since it was something I wanted,”

Another fact that surprised Heeseung. He glanced at you. “Football fan?”

“Kinda, I guess you could say that,”

“Maybe it’s fate,” he decided, a lighthearted assumption that you once had in mind as well. 

“Or maybe Jake saw I was unemployed and took the chances,” you wondered jokingly, but also having your suspicions. 

Heeseung let out a laugh in incredulity, shaking his head. “Either way, it was meant to be, you being here and working for Jake,”

Nodding a little, you considered his words. It was most likely meant to be. Monaco, Jake, meeting Heeseung. Something was in store for you. “Well, I’m quite glad,” you purse your lips and paused, “I got to meet you too,”

“Huh—” his head snapped to look at you in a flash, the look on his face telling you he thought he might’ve heard you wrongly. That’s when he had to regain his composure and maintain a stable breathing, “me too.”

The weight of your words and Heeseung’s reply were on each of your shoulders individually, both of you were unable to get the moment from earlier out of your minds. Leading up to the part where you and him reached the floor of your apartments, he walked you to your door and stood there, waiting for you to turn to him, which you did after breathing in a deep breath. You met his eyes, ones that resembled a bambi, glistening under the dim light.

“Today was fun, thanks for letting me join,”

“It’s nothing. I’m glad you joined, actually,” he slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, hiding the fact that his palms were sweating. “If you didn’t, we wouldn’t have properly met and on a much friendlier term,”

“That’s true,” you clutched onto the straps of your bag tighter. “And this won’t be our last meeting either,”

“Definitely,”

“I have a question,”

“Shoot,”

“This might sound odd but I feel like we didn’t properly introduce ourselves,” you looked at him expectantly. “Jake kinda introduced us to each other and I thought it would be wrong to not really get to know one another more personally. You get what I mean? Since we’re neighbours and everything—am I rambling?”

Heeseung grinned at your nervous and jittery demeanour. “Kinda,” he let out a small laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “You’re not entirely wrong,” he extended his hand outward, “I’m Lee Heeseung,”

“Y/N L/N,” you accepted his hand, the coarseness of his skin from the excessive amount of driving over the years met your smoother palms, though it was a short moment, you could feel the contrast of his hand to yours in terms of size as well.

“It’s nice meeting you, neighbour,”

“You too. Heard you’re some hotshot formula one driver,”

“Nah, they’re all just rumours, I’m just your friendly average neighbourhood guy,”

“Who delivers milk,”

“Newspaper,” he corrected, playing along with the joke with a the widest smile, “Some say I might be spiderman,”

“Now you’re going too far,” 

It was natural. All of it was. The flow of the conversation and the way you joked with each other. When you broke out laughing first, Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh along with you, the sounds of your laughter filled the empty hallway.

You didn’t want this to end. Talking to him and staring at him, no, you wished you could continue on. Yet, the words that left your lips were the opposite of how you felt. “I think I should head on in, I probably need a shower,”

“I—uh—same,” a breathy chuckle escaped Heeseung’s pretty lips, and hearing it only made you let out one as well. He was so dorky and awkward, it was cute, and a total contrast of what you had expected of him. 

“See you, Mr World Champion,”

“Bye, pretty,”

Pretty? 

Heeseung’s eyes widened a fraction, shock crossing his face. Did he just … call you that? It was the truth though, a truth that he unknowingly let slip. Lee Heeseung, you should’ve kept that in your mind and not the tip of your lips. He was chastising himself, but you, however, felt your knees weakened as you pressed your keycard onto the sensor.

He called you pretty. Pretty. Pretty!

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out right before you managed to shut your door, narrowly missing you as you were busy having a serious conversation with yourself regarding Heeseung’s pet name. You peaked your head out of the door, an expecting expression staring back at him. “Uh—if you need anything or any help, I’m always next door. Just—ring my doorbell or something, I’ll be there,”

What a sweetheart.

“Thank you, Hee, likewise,” you casted him your sweetest smile, then waved briefly and closed your door with a small click.

Hee? Hee! Oh my God. That just left your lips.

Heeseung couldn’t believe it himself. First, he called you ‘pretty’, and now, you called him ‘Hee’. He was winning, and never in a lifetime would he expect the day where he felt his heartbeat speeding up because of someone instead of racing.

Side by side, in different rooms with only a wall separating you and Heeseung, the two of you had your backs pressed against the front door. Processing and reflecting on what had happened, from the words said and the gestures made, all of them were taken notice and stored in each of your head. Butterflies and beating hearts overtook your bodies, the prospect of someone to look forward to now plagued your minds.

It was the start of something.

Whether it was a coincidence or on purpose, none of you knew the truth.

The times you've bumped into one another was more than imagined. Throwing out the trash? Oh, Heeseung just got back from the gym, looking absolutely scrumptious and waving at you. Going out for a morning jog? Heeseung coincidentally was doing the same and eventually joined you. 

Were you complaining though? No, you took every possible chance to see him, even if it was a glimpse or a 'hi' or small talks.

There's one thing you've got to admit. He was unhealthy for you.

The months passed and the routine of the both of you bumping into each other somehow became standing outside the door to talk longer and progressed into exchanging phone numbers, which was long overdue in your opinion. 

What amazed you most was him texting you first. It didn't even take him long to do that, in fact, it was on the same night you gave him your number. Wow. It then turned into you huddled in bed, stalking his Instagram profile and laughing at the range of pictures taken.

Obviously, pictures of his career and wins were the majority, ones that even included Jake who shared the same podium as him. With more scrolls, you discovered more natural pictures of him. 'Boys night' or 'chill days' captions under selfies or group photos. The recent one was ‘Happy New Years!’ with him in a party hat accompanied by some of his friends. 

That night, you went to bed a little too giddy and hit the 'follow' button without thinking twice. The morning was even better when you saw him following you back, and that only prompted you to bake a load of cookies, which explained the reason why you were standing in front of his door, a box of fresh cookies in hand.

It took you only one ring of the doorbell to have Heeseung appear, a hand on the door, body dressed in a casual outfit of black tee and sweatpants. Okay, breathe.

“Hello, hello,” he greeted, not missing the box you were holding.

“Hey, kinda random but I baked some cookies and I have extras so I wanted to give them to you if it's alright,”

Heeseung visibly beamed at your offer, eyes shining like a little kid at the candy shop. “It's more than alright actually,” he looked behind his shoulder for a quick second, “if so, would you want to come in and have a quick bite? I'll give you my honest feedback,”

“That's very Gordon Ramsey of you, why not,”

He stepped aside to let you in, and you gladly did so, gaze flickering around to take in the interior of his apartment. All of which screamed his vibes. You caught sight of some formula one car figurines and a couple of trophies on a shelf. 

“Cool collection you've got here. How much were these?” You pointed at his trophies, joking in an attempt to lighten the mood. You knew it was received well after you heard him laughing breathily as the door clicked shut.

“Just a couple thousands, no biggy,” he played along, ushering you to join him at the table with a wave of his hand. "I see someone's been stalking me lately," he said once you sat next to him, and you almost wanted to leave the moment you heard it.

“I did not stalk you,” you defended yourself, even if it meant you were lying. “I just wanted to follow you since we're more closer now,”

You swore you saw Heeseung's eyes soften at the mention of you and him growing closer. He let out a hum. “For a moment I thought you were thinking about me,”

Spoiler: you were. 

It took Heeseung minimal effort for him to make you fluster. Judging from the way you nervously open the box and push it to him, actively ignoring what he just said. “Here,”

“Thanks, sweets,”

There it was again. Another pet name that slipped from his tongue way too naturally. It even caught him off guard, thinking he should be more appropriate around you since you two were just getting to know each other. But how could he? Not when you were giving him a hard time by taking over his mind.

“These look good,” he said upon opening up the box, a smile creeping up onto his lips. Without hesitation, he grabbed one and took a bite out of it, savouring the taste of the fresh cookie. 

His nod of approval was the seal of validation for you. “Good, right?” him humming in agreement only made your smile wider in satisfaction and victory.

“Is this how you buy your way into people’s hearts? It’s definitely working for me,” Heeseung stared at the rest of the pile in awe, not realising how his words made you fluster even more. 

“Not just anybody,”

His gaze averted to you, a tinge of pink painted at his cheeks. It was unnoticeable in plain sight, but Heeseung himself could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. The feeling was overwhelming till the point he had to let out a cough. You were staring back at him innocently.

“Preseason starts soon. Testing in Bahrain,” you switched the topic, noticing the both of you being equally caught off guard. 

“Oh, yeah,” time passed by in a blur and Heeseung didn’t even realise February was coming along. “It’s really soon, huh? New Years was literally a few weeks ago? How was your New Year, by the way?”

“It was chill, didn’t do much since I don’t know many people here and all my colleagues are in other countries,” you mumbled the last part a little too sadly, but it was the truth, being alone in a different country was a new kind of foreign that hits harder than you expected.

“Ah. I didn’t know you were free and available that day, if I did, I would’ve invited you to the party the boys had—” that Instagram post, “You know what Jake said to me? ‘Take care of Y/N on my behalf too, she's new here and doesn't have many friends’,”

“He didn’t need to expose me like that,” you rolled your eyes in irritation at the mention of your cousin brother’s name, and what he said on top of that. It was partially the truth. “But it’s fine, Hee, he did bring it up over the phone but I chose to stay in. Too much testosterone concentrated in one party,”

“Not true, there were girls there too,”

“Does that make it sound better?”

Heeseung gulped, realising it in fact doesn’t make it sound better. “Well, no,”

“You athletes and partying and women scares me,” you played with the box, not wanting to imagine Heeseung with some other woman. There was one thing you had to remind yourself: stay away from athletes. For the reasons of them being unfaithful, rich, famous, snobby, womanisers, cocky—

“Not all of us are like that,”

Heeseung wasn’t like that. 

“I mean, yeah, I know some of the drivers are like that but most of us aren’t,” he continued on, seeing the worry dissolving from your face. He knew what he was doing, you were aware too, he was trying to give you assurance, catching on to the underlying meaning of your words. “The guys I hang around with have girlfriends and trust me, they’re loyal as ever, the ones that are single only actively search for girls. Even if so, they aren’t as playboy behaviour as you think,”

“Genuinely?”

“Genuinely,”

“What about you?”

Heeseung pursed his lips. “I haven’t been in a relationship in years,” he shrugged quite pathetically, “I’m practically living like a man who hasn’t felt a woman’s touch in years, because it’s mostly true,”

“Come on, really? The Lee Heeseung is bitchless? I don’t believe it,”

“Ask my friends! It’s been a while,” he laughed that eventually turned into a  sigh, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know, I admit, there were lots who tried hitting me up, but none of them truly meant it. You know what I mean? Especially after winning my championship, it felt like I could see through them and their true intentions. I just don’t think they see me as me. They see me as Formula One champion, famous and on the top of the world, but I’m none of that,”

Witnessing Heeseung getting vulnerable with you on a random 6 P.M. was not part of your schedule, but you were relieved he was comfortable enough to share these with you. Him, however, got panicked and didn’t even let you speak when he blurted out, “Sorry, shouldn’t have dumped everything on you—”

“No, no, it’s okay, Hee, really,” you reassured, almost placing your hand on his, but retreating your hand rather reluctantly. “It must be hard to not be able to have anyone see you as the way you truly are. You’re an amazing guy, genuinely. I might know you for a few months only but you’re one of the sweetest guys in my life, it makes sense why Jake regards you as a good friend,”

No words were able to form on Heeseung’s tongue, let alone speak. All he could do was stare at you, a kind of admiration and fascination in his bright irises. 

“I hope you can find the right person soon, even if it takes a while, it’ll be worth it knowing they’re the one,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, and in his perspective, he was sure he would’ve fell if he hadn’t snapped out of his daze. “I get you though. I might not be a world champion but I prioritise my job a lot. Some men don’t see that, at least the ones that I’ve dated. That’s why I’ve been single for quite some time too, and it’s not helping that I’m travelling a lot more now,”

This mild relationship trauma bonding session wasn’t what you two had in mind.

“Just as you said, it’ll be worth it when we find the one even if it takes some time,” Heeseung bumped your shoulder just as you did, a small grin displayed on his pretty face. “We’ll get there,”

“We will,”

What you didn’t know was Heeseung screaming at himself internally. ‘We’ll get there’? No, Heeseung didn’t want you with someone else. Hell, he doesn’t want to see other people either. He couldn’t believe himself for feeling this way. In what way was this a sane man’s behaviour? He’s far from sane.

Worst part of all was the two of you were equally running in circles together. You were interested in him and he was interested in you, but none of you dared to make any certain moves. Was it the fear? Was it because you were scared Heeseung might break your heart? Was it because Heeseung was scared you’d be affected by him? It was only going to be complicated the more it went on. But were you going to acknowledge that right now? Absolutely not. As they say, go with the flow, right? 

“Wanna grab dinner together? Heard there’s a new sushi place down the street,” you let Heeseung take the box from your hold, watching him place it on his coffee table so that he could enjoy it some other time. 

“Sounds good.”

There was no denial that something was growing between you and him.

Time passing by in a blur wasn't a great thing at all. Not to you and Heeseung anyway.

The oncoming F1 season starting soon only meant having to travel more and moments spent being next door lessened. This fact was apparent and undeniable, one that both you and Heeseung were aware of, and an unspoken urge to hang out more developed.

It first started when you invited Jake over for dinner after a hard training session, and miraculously on the way to your door, Heeseung showed up, just on time. He was about to leave for dinner, and Jake being Jake, he invited Heeseung to join you two with no hesitation. From then on, even without Jake’s presence, you found yourself having dinner at Heeseung’s house and watching movies together. Wild, wasn’t it? 

Maybe it was a good thing you were getting closer and more comfortable with him. You needed more friends other than just Jake in this line of work. For now, Heeseung was equally a great company that knew how to make you laugh and bring out the other side of you that you kept away from others.

However, no matter how close you were with him now, you were not prepared for whatever happened that day at all.

“Can I shower at your place?”

Opening the door to find a messy haired Heeseung in his grey sweatpants almost had you slamming the door in his face out of pure instinct. The sight was dangerous for you. You were just a girl after all. A man in grey sweatpants was a killer.

“Excuse me?”

“Hear me out,” he dramatically placed his hands out, putting on the most convincing look after seeing your doubtful expression. “My shower broke and the guy I called could only come by tomorrow to fix it, so I can't shower now, but, I need to shower,”

You considered for a moment, but unable to put up your front the more you glanced at Heeseung's pleading eyes and the desperation coming off him.

“Please, Y/N?”

“Of course, you can, Hee,” you patted him on the shoulder. “I'm not cruel enough to let you stink,”

“You're a lifesaver,” he sighed in relief, the desperation melted into gratefulness, you've never seen a man as desperate to shower as him at that moment. “I'll bring some ramen for us to eat after, sounds good?”

“Absolutely,”

“Great. Don't tell Andrew this though,” he was referring to his personal trainer, and you smiled.

“I won't, now hurry up before I close my door,”

Heeseung was quick to grab his items and rush into your apartment as if his life depended on it. A tray filled with his toiletries and a towel hung around his neck, he gave you a charming smile when he saw you approaching him after closing the door.

“Realised I've never been over much,” he said, eyes wandering around the corners of your living room.

“You never asked and I didn't offer, that's why I'm always at yours,”

“We need to switch it up soon, or else we'll have to wait months to be back,”

“Right,” you nodded a little solemnly at the mention of the long period of being away. “The bathroom's down the hallway, just walk straight and it's there,”

“Got it,” he snapped his fingers once he averted his gaze away from the direction you pointed. “Wait for me to cook the ramen,”

“You know I always do.”

That was exactly what you did: wait for him. You could hear the shower running in your quiet apartment, and it only made you think. He was in your house, showering. An F1 driver. If you told the you from months back that this would happen, you’d be livid.

The on and off conversation you had with yourself about Heeseung went on for a while until you heard some crashing noises that definitely came from the bathroom. Did he fall? There’s no way, right? The paranoia had you jumping out of your seat and jogging towards your bathroom. A knock from you once and there came Heeseung’s panicked voice.

“I’m okay! I dropped your shampoo bottle!” he yelled back, but most importantly was what he did next. He swung the door open, revealing him with only a towel hanging around his waist, hair visibly wet and his bare upper body on display. You shouldn’t look, you shouldn’t look, you shouldn’t—

You did what you couldn’t do earlier, which was closing the door on Heeseung. This time around, you finally found the strength and pulled the handle, closing the door and shocking both you and him. Okay, you needed that though.

Despite doing all that, the damage was unfortunately already done and the image of his bare body was burnt into your mind. Were you complaining? Secretly, you weren’t. But you were worried awkward tension might mess everything up. 

Acting natural was what you could do, focusing on the screen of your phone even when you heard his footsteps against the wooden floor and his soft humming that was heading your way. Your attention strayed away from the video you were watching, instead focusing on his humming, recognising the song he was humming to. It was a Justin Bieber song. What was the title of the song? Off something? Off—

“What are you watching?” Heeseung was suddenly standing next to you, head leaned down and the scent of his shampoo invaded your senses. It wasn’t just that, his face was quite literally next to yours, one wrong move and you’d clash your face with his. When you turned your head, he was already staring at you, a smile tugged at his lips.

“J–Just a stupid video,” why did he have you stutter? Stand up!

“Looks interesting,” he noted, straightening up and was no longer torturously close to you. Thank God. “So, ramen?”

“Definitely,”

You watched as Heeseung shuffled around the kitchen, sitting leisurely on the high stool behind the counter. He, who insisted on being the one who cooked, was struggling to find the pots and pans, but somehow still managing throughout. As he waited for the ramen to cook, he had his hand resting on the counter top, standing faced towards you, gaze staying on you.

“Sorry for just now,” he started, getting your attention and your ears perked up. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,”

“It’s fine, Hee, stuff happens,” you tried your best at seeming nonchalant, but you were actually crumbling internally. You could tell the both of you were struggling. 

“Well, opening the door and seeing me half naked isn't exactly just 'stuff happens',” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but you couldn't help cracking a smile at his demeanour. 

“You're fine. Everything's okay. It's not like I'm banning you from my home and filing a restraining order,” you reassured him for the millionth time, watching the distress on his face gradually melt away and shoulders relaxing. “It was a slip up and I'm not uncomfortable at all. For a moment I thought you fell and something happened, I'm much more glad finding out you didn't,”

“Thank God that didn't happen,” he breathed out a sigh of relief, closing the fire now that the ramen was done cooking. His back was faced towards you, and all you could focus on rather shamelessly was the wideness of his back. 

“I would've saved you,”

“My knightress in shining armour,” he took a peek back at you, meeting your eyes for a split second before turning away, a smile plastered on his face evident from his voice. 

It didn't take long before Heeseung was done with the ramen, serving two bowls onto the counter and joining your side. He even prepared two boiled eggs for you that you specifically requested every time you had ramen together. It only took once for Heeseung to remember. 

“Are you prepared for the new season?” You asked, trying to crack your egg but was visibly struggling. Heeseung then wordlessly took it from you, knocking it against the counter and peeling it slowly.

He hummed. “Physically, yes. Mentally, no,”

You frowned at his response, eyes following his hands as he placed down one freshly peeled hard boiled egg and took the other to get rid of the shells. “How come?”

“I don't know. I think I've always felt like this before the season starts,” he pursed his lips thoughtfully, merely shrugging and taking bites of his ramen. “Think the car's going to be good—I hope—I'm bound to know in a week at preseason testing,”

“It will be! You'll do well,”

“You have that much faith in me?”

“Mr Three Times World Champion? Yeah,”

“Over your own cousin?”

“I have faith in both of you,” you scrunch your nose at the mention of Jake, having to pit him and Heeseung against each other was unfair 

Heeseung clicked his tongue, letting out a 'tch'. “Not fair,”

“It is fair,” you rolled your eyes at him, naturally and smoothly putting half an egg into his bowl that he gladly accepted.

“Will you mostly be at the Mclaren hospitality?”

“Not during races. Will probably be at the garage. Depends on Jake though, wherever he goes, I'll go,”

He finished the last of his ramen, nodding at your response. “It'll be easier for me to find you, then,”

“You're saying it as if you've got something up your sleeves,”

“Hey, I just wanna see you,” he threw his hands up in mock surrender, a sense of sincerity visible in his gaze. 

“I'm not opposed to that,”

“I'll come find you when you least expect it,” he noted, and you shook your head, laughing quietly. “I'll take you out to dinner too, wherever you want,”

“Even if it's just a simple ramen in your hotel room?”

“I'll be down,” Heeseung said without any hesitation. You couldn't tell if he genuinely loved ramen that much or he was just willing to be flexible for you. Maybe both.

“I'm looking forward to it,”

“It'll be on me, as a way of repayment,”

“You're already feeding me free ramen, I think you're fine,” you gestured at the two empty bowls that were only filled with leftover soup.

“Better food,” he added, eyebrows rising in an attempt to have you tempted as well. “At least, higher quality ramen," he paused, taking in your contemplating expression. “Come on, I want to do it, so let me, please?”

You were grinning at his determination, and at the same time, you couldn't entirely reject his willingness. “Well … if you're genuinely willing, then I'm alright with it,”

Heeseung exhaled in both relief and victory, smiling quite stupidly at his success. “Let me treat you, okay?”

You nodded, picking up the two bowls to place into the sink, swearing that you've got it and having to make him back down from washing them since had already done the cooking. “Yes, yes, Mr World Champion,”

He suddenly barked out a laugh, throwing his head back with ease. “You've got to stop calling me that. I might not even be World Champion this season,”

“Why not?” You steal a glance at him, noticing he was already watching you as you washed the dishes. 

“Who knows? Anything can happen.”

Anything can happen. 

Heeseung had a feeling that wasn't just referring to his upcoming season, but also insinuating a change between you and him. Anything could literally happen. That was what scared him but also excited him.

It was going to be a long season ahead.

– MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA, 2023

You finally understood Heeseung's popularity. Might've taken a while, but now, your eyes have been opened. 

The season started off gracefully right after preseason testing. You found yourself running around quite a lot and being much busier than expected. The new life of working in a motorsport environment was humbling but also rewarding.

After the first two races, you slowly got used to the busier lifestyle, enjoying the trackside views and getting a better insight of what's happening in the garage. 

Other than that, you weren't surprised Heeseung had bagged the opening races easily. You watched from the Mclaren garage as he crossed the finish line, leading up to him celebrating at the podium with some familiar faces. Jake almost came in close, but unfortunately, missed out on the podium. Still, it was a strong start.

That was the reason why trying to speak to Heeseung face-to-face was much more of a struggle than you'd initially thought. He was big, like big big. He was always swarmed post race, fans crowded him and constantly busy with many other duties. The only time you got to speak was congratulating him for his win, and the rest was left to iMessage. 

Yet, you didn't miss his lingering gaze amongst the crowd of people. It was as if you were the only person there to him there and then.

The third race soon rolled around, meaning it was the Australian Grand Prix. Look, you loved Melbourne, but you swore your jet lag was about to take you out. It didn’t help that it was media day as well, which included having to partake in press conferences, video shoots and other promotional related things. Your legs weren’t getting much breaks either knowing you’d have to follow Jake around to all these.

Being Jake’s assistant almost felt like you were babysitting a child sometimes. The morning of media day was rough. You couldn’t find Jake after leaving him at the garage for only a few minutes, only to come back to engineers and no driver that resembled a puppy in sight. 

A headache wasn’t the ideal to welcome the first thing in the morning. You decided to rush out and walk around, texting him feverishly as you rounded the place. It was then you rounded a corner and focused too much on your phone—people were right about not walking while using phones—when you bumped into someone.

Heeseung.

His expression contorted into a mixture of shock, relief and happiness. You, yourself, felt like your breath was knocked out of you. Just staring at him was enough to have you rooted to the ground.

“Hi,” you exhaled, not giving a care if you looked abysmal at that moment, dressed in a papaya coloured work uniform.

“Hey,” his eyes visibly brightened up, a sweet smile slowly spreading. “What's got you so busy with your phone?” He pointed at your phone, genuine curiosity sparkled in his irises.

“Jake, that's what,” you groaned, waving your phone in annoyance. “He disappeared from the garage and he's supposed to be getting ready for press,”

Heeseung suddenly looked guilty, which only prompted you to raise your eyebrow at him, signalling him to spill. “He snuck out to find me, and I think he's already snuck back to the garage. Sorry about that,”

“Why are you guys acting like a forbidden couple sneaking around?”

“What if we are?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a habit that you found yourself doing a lot around him. “Sure you are,” you replied sarcastically, and it made him laugh. 

“When will you let me take you out for dinner?” Heeseung frowned, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning back a bit.

“I'm free whenever,”

“That's a lie,”

“Fine. That is a lie,” you sighed, remembering your busy schedule that was just as hectic as his. “There's a few weeks break after this weekend, just before Baku,”

“Right,” the gears were turning in Heeseung's head, faintly recalling the season's schedule. “Will you be back in Monaco?”

“I will,”

“Great,” he was having a hard time hiding his true emotions, suppressing his big goofy smile into a nonchalant one. “I'll have a table booked, and I'll just text you the details,”

“Sounds amazing,” it was beyond amazing. 

Even though you two acted like it was only a normal dinner, both of you had a secret feeling it wasn't just that. Not at all. It was clear in the air that a certain emotion and tension lingered in the air, getting heavier as time passed.

“I've been dying to talk to you,” he confessed out of the blue, taking you and him, apparently, by surprise. If you had to be honest, you felt the same. “Me being too caught up with everything and you adjusting to the job, I just wished we got to talk more rather than just texting,”

“Are you saying that just because you keep losing at 8-Ball?” It was true. Heeseung might be a good Formula One driver, but horribly skilled at iMessage games.

“No,” he was quick to deny it, but you knew he was just saving face, so you spared him and waved it off.

“Kidding. I really wanted to talk to you too. It felt weird,”

“What does?”

“You are so close but too far to reach. You’re constantly surrounded, and it feels like I can’t reach you, it feels strange and distant, very foreign,” you didn’t even realise you’ve let the pent up amount of pining slip into your words, but it seemed he felt the same, being able to understand as his gaze softened. You were clutching onto your phone for dear life, knowing sweat was forming on your palm from the nervousness. “But it's great to see you winning, the first two races were crazy,”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” 

“Says the person who thinks the sport is just cars driving in circles,”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, holding in your laugh as you watched Heeseung raise his eyebrows with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m slowly getting the hype,”

“So … not fully, yet?”

“You’ve got to show me more to fully get it,”

Heeseung’s ears definitely perked up at what you said, but he didn’t want to overthink it and overanalyzed the hidden meanings behind it, so he tried keeping his nonchalant front. “I’ll show you,” he merely said, winking cheekily at you.

“Alright, World Champion. I think it’s also time for us to leave, especially you. You’ve got press with Jake,” 

“Right, almost forgot,” he chuckled awkwardly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should probably go,”

“You should,”

“I’ll see you,” he started walking backwards, not turning his back on you yet. “Let me know once you’re back. I’ll tell you the details once I’ve settled it,”

“You’ve got it,”

He nodded, still backing away stiffly and you wanted to burst out laughing at the way he’s acting. You crossed your arms, placing your weight on one leg, staring at him, amused. “You know the Ferrari hospitality is in the opposite direction to where you’re heading, right?”

He stopped in his tracks, then tilted his head, resembling a lost puppy. “Is it?”

“Yes, it is, Heeseung,” you sighed, beckoning him to come forward.  “Let’s just walk back together,”

Heeseung was good at hiding his embarrassment. He could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, but not reaching his face, instead to the tips of his ears. Yet, the moment he joined your side and saw your smile, every negative thought dissipated, and he let himself feel when he’s in your presence. His sly brush against your shoulders and hands didn’t go unnoticed by you. All you could do was hold your calm until you reached back to your own hospitality, seeing Jake there and you were silently grateful he didn’t stay in the garage.

“What’s got you so … glowy this early in the morning?”

You snapped up from your phone screen, meeting Jake’s narrowed suspicious gaze. “What?”

“Don’t just ‘what’ me, something happened, didn’t it? You seem so smiley and giddy,”

Was it that obvious? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe it’s that overpriced smoothie I got for breakfast,”

“I drank it too!”

“Maybe it’s not working for you,” you shrugged, facing a pouty Jake that was displaying his best attempt at sad teary eyes. “It’s the sad truth,”

He huffed. “Whatever. We should get to the press before I get my ass beat,”

“Yeah, by me.”

Jake eventually forgot about his whole suspicion on you once the race weekend arrived and passed. You consider yourself lucky for that. It was probably fated for what happened next. Him and Heeseung managed to claim their spots on the podium next to each other that race weekend, earning points for their championships and teams. It was one of those times where you ran to pull Jake in a big hug, just like old times. 

In the midst of it all, seeing Heeseung approaching you brought out the instinct in you to pull him in a hug as well. Despite him being covered in sweat and you in another team’s uniform, you and him both stood there as if it was only you two alone. You were able to speak to Heeseung for a bit, congratulating him and shaking him in excitement. Maybe it was a heat of the moment thing, but Heeseung pressed a kiss on your cheek, leaving you stunned. Before you could even give a reaction, he got whisked away, resulting in you and him each frowning and frazzled. 

You stood there, all stunned and fingers softly touching the spot where his lips made contact with just a moment ago. The same lips that curved into a smile that you adored and spewed stupid jokes which never failed to make you laugh.

Snap out of it!

Oh.

You were utterly screwed.

– MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Nothing felt better than being back to the comforts of your own home.

It was odd, calling Monaco your home now. If you had to be fully honest, you missed your real home. The place where you old friends and family stayed while you were currently miles away. 

The ping from your phone eventually brought you out of your reminiscence and diverted your attention. It was good timing, or else you would've broken down crying thinking about it more. 

hee(neigh)bour: free tonight?

you: yes!

hee(neigh)bour: expect me at 6 pm ;) we're going fancyyy

Was that winky face necessary? Yet, it still somehow made you laugh. It didn't last long once you realised the little time you had to get ready. Five hours wasn't enough. You needed a day to fully mentally and physically get yourself together. 

Heeseung was taking you out to dinner. Was it a date? Did he think it was one? No, don't overthink it, it's just a dinner, a friendly dinner. 

You didn't want it to stop at that, though. Shamelessly, you wanted it to be a date.

You wished you were lying when you said you spent two hours trying on outfits and rummaging through your closet for anything that was fancyyy, just as Heeseung mentioned. In the end, you settled for a dusty pink satin midi dress that you got online not long ago thanks to some tacky fashion blog. It was something you've barely worn before, the open back and silky material was probably the most fancy you could dig out from your closet.

The clock was ticking close to six, you made sure your makeup wasn't smudged or your purse wasn't left on the side of your couch, carelessly stumbling around as you balanced on one leg trying to get your heels on. Your heart shouldn't be beating over the normal speed, but it was. The moment your hand twisted the doorknob, clock ticking right at six o'clock, and with one twist of a hand, the door opened and the doorbell rang, you stood still.

“Heeseung,”

“Y/N, hey,” he breathed out, gulping at the sight of you. The timing of your exit and his appearance collectively gave you and him a whiplash, but seeing him managed to calm your nerves a lot more.

Heeseung was dressed in a simple suit and tie, hair styled down, but still managing to be as handsome as ever. What really caught your eye was the small bouquet of flowers in his hand, explaining why he was shifting around nervously. 

“I've got you flowers,” he held it up, gaze held with expectations and a sweet smile facing you. It was a pretty and delicately made bouquet with colourful flowers. Cute. Both him and the bouquet.

“Thank you,” you accepted them from him, smiling wider, and it almost felt like you'd be smiling non stop whenever you're around him. “They're really pretty,”

“You're really pretty too,” he was quick to compliment you, too quick that even he didn’t realise until a beat later, reddening in surprise. “I—”

“Thanks, Hee, you’re really handsome too,” you kept your cool, though feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks as well. In a third perspective, you two probably looked like blushing idiots.

He visibly straightened, clearing his throat and gradually regaining his composure. One thing Heeseung wasn’t going to do tonight was crumble, but with you around, it’s hard to say. “Thank you. Shall we get going?” 

“Yes! After I put the flowers away, wait a minute, okay?”

Heeseung let out a soft ‘okay’ and laughed under his breath, watching you run back in and filling a vase full of water, proceeding to chuck the flowers in carelessly. Your heels were clicking against the floor noisily, and soon you were in front of him again, smiling abashedly. “I’ll make sure to deal with the flowers more nicer when I get back,”

Heeseung waved you off, guiding you forward. “No worries about that, I can always get you new ones.”

Heeseung might’ve not realised how lasting the effects of his words were, because you were a flustered mess while he continued on as if nothing happened. He couldn’t just say that and expect zero reactions from you!

The drive there might’ve been a little quiet from time to time, but you basked in the silence and admired the scenery of Monte Carlo. It almost felt like you were a kid in a new country again and was constantly wowed by new things. Apparently Heeseung could tell that about you. He occasionally casted glances at you, smiling mostly to himself when you were too caught up and blabbering about the most random things, listening to every one of them while you thought he wasn’t. 

“No, I have to agree, I think pouring milk after the cereal is much more … normal than cereal after milk,” Heeseung was holding back his laugh as he agreed with you when you two were walking to the restaurant.

“I know right! Say that to some of my colleagues,”

“No way,”

“Yes way,” you displayed a horrified expression, but it only melted into a smile once you saw Heeseung's face. 

You hated it. This unexplainable feeling you always had around Heeseung. It never faded away, but instead grew stronger and persisted as time passed. What was it? Why were you like this?

For the time being, you kicked aside the countless thoughts of Heeseung and actually tried to immerse yourself in the dinner with the real Heeseung in front of you. It was hard to concentrate entirely. Your main focus wasn’t even on the smoked salmon on your plate nor the ancient wine in your glass; it was on Heeseung. 

He asked you about almost everything, putting the spotlight on you for most of the dinner, which was quite surprising for you. But what he failed to know was you having trouble formulating a proper answer considering how your mind couldn’t stop wandering over to him. It was annoying that he had completely taken over you and your head in the span of a few months. 

It was even more annoying how nice and soft hearted he was. He proved that by telling you the bill was already paid and wholeheartedly declining your offer to pay back, insisting that he was the one who invited you out anyway. You could only accept your defeat, but promised him you’d treat him to some ramen. 

The walk back to the car was excruciating. It was mostly silent, but that was not the problem, it was the tension filled air that made your skin crawl. You and him were both tired, and you’d said what you wanted to say during dinner, so comfortable silence eventually settled in the air. You could feel his lingering gaze on you, and you were sure he felt yours on him as well. It was just a waiting game for one of you to speak up at that point. 

It must’ve been an unsaid rule. Heeseung didn’t think twice before opening the door of the passenger side for you, bambi-like eyes staring back at you, a small smile on his lips. “M’lady,” 

You cracked a smile at his behaviour, shaking your head slightly and thanked him as you got in. Everything happening before you almost gave you a sense of deja vu from months ago where you were last in his car. Back when you were barely friends but somehow there was an undeniable spark between you and him. Nothing has changed, neither the dynamics nor you and him in general, all of it was the same, but probably better.

“What are you thinking about?” Heeseung’s voice drew you out from your small bubble of thoughts. It was then you realised that you were soon reaching the apartment complex.

“Us,’’

Heeseung was quiet for a beat, the both of you processing what you said differently. His head snapped to look at you, and you gulped, cursing at yourself for letting your tongue loose. “I mean, the time we met,”

“What about it?” he kept his composure, you could tell that he did.

“I’m getting deja vu to the time we just met. Me in your car and we’re driving back to the apartment,” you decided to be truthful, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “It’s nothing, really, it’s a little stupid,”

“It isn’t,” Heeseung reassured. “It’s normal to reminisce once in a while, and it’s weird, you know? How our emotions and feelings work, it’s all complicated,”

You glanced at him. Feelings and emotions were complicated, he said it almost like he had read your mind. He didn’t notice you staring at him, and continued on. “I’m just glad to have you here, in my life and … in general. Didn’t realise how lonely I was in Monaco until you came into my life,”

Your gaze softened at his words, unable to hide your small frown at the tone of his voice. He turned to look at you for a split second, then broke into a chuckle. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re a good neighbour,” he attempted at diffusing the heavy tension, eliciting a quiet scoff and an amused smile from you. 

The rest of the journey was thankfully much lighter and easy going. Heeseung was too busy indulging in the music playing on the radio to notice you spacing out yet again. His words were dancing in your mind from time to time. You certainly didn’t miss the look in his gaze, even though it was merely a second. 

As you let him hold your hand and lead you, you couldn’t help but feel giddy from a small action like this. Holding your hand tightly and offering his spare slippers to get you out of your heels were simple gestures, but why were they making you flush easily? Maybe it wasn’t just the actions, but also the person behind it.

Standing in front of your door, right beside his, you were facing him with a wavering attempt at maintaining eye contact. It was the same exact spot where you first met him, except this time around, you felt the complete opposite compared to then. Thinking about this spot, in front of your individual front doors, it was crazy that you and him had many encounters here. But at that moment, you stood with a different feeling and emotion, eyes holding a message for him to slowly decipher.

“I really enjoyed the date—” Did you really just say that? You swore you’d keep that to yourself!

Heeseung blinked, looking almost as if he was splashed with a bucket of cold water, totally shell shocked. “Date?” 

You, on the other hand, were freaking out at your own mistake. “Ignore that. It’s a slip of the tongue, it’s stupid, oh my gosh—”

Heeseung was quick to wave his hands. “No, no, it’s fine. I—uh—I really liked this date too,” he was slowly smiling, not denying or correcting you. “I was hoping I can bring you out for another date again,” he made sure to enunciate that word, making his intentions clear. “If it’s all okay with you,”

“I’m more than okay with it,” you exhaled, needing to pinch yourself. 

“Great,” he was good at hiding his joy, suppressing most of it into a smile and slipping his hands into his pants pockets to hide his clammy hands. “It’s time to clear out your schedules,”

“You sound like you’ve already got something in store,”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he simply shrugged. “Get ready to be sick of me during these few weeks,”

“Like I’m not already sick of you,”

“Hey!” 

“Kidding. If you charm me enough, I’ll probably even fall in love with you,”

The gears in Heeseung’s head seemed to have turned, coming up with an idea that you couldn’t predict. You instantly recognised the familiar spark hidden behind his soft gaze, preparing yourself to hear him out on whatever he had hidden in his sleeves. 

“Give me three dates,” he started, the sincerity in voice contrasted with his playful smirk. Screw that, you weren’t prepared for that. “I’ll charm you within these three dates,”

“Seriously? Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” he didn’t even bother to hide it nor make up excuses, being much more straightforward than you expected. Who gave this man the sudden surge of confidence? “Four dates. I'll plan them and it'll be spontaneously timed,”

“Do you have the time for that, though? The season's schedule—”

“Forget about that, I'll make it work. Just let me take you out on a few dates, how does that sound?”

“Sounds fantastic,” it felt like he had knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Heeseung nodded slowly, seemingly digesting it all too, his smile never once slipped. “Fantastic,” he repeated after you, and it had unknowingly become a habit he picked up on. “I'll let you know when's the first date. Any preference?”

“I have faith in you, Hee,”

“I won't let you down,” his promise sounded like it had a deeper meaning behind it from the tone of his voice. He was serious about making you fall in love with him, but the thing was you already were halfway there. The effort coming from him only made you cave in more and more. “It's getting late, I'm sure you're tired. Should we …" he gestured at the front doors. 

“Oh right, yeah,” you were too deep into the whole conversation to realise you were still standing in front of your apartment. It was embarrassing for you to admit that you weren't willing to leave so soon and wanted to spend more time with Heeseung. You could always invite him over—no, wait—that sounds wrong, you're not going for third base. All you could do was nod along and act casual. Playing hard to get, that was the plan, right? 

“I had a nice time tonight, Hee, thanks for dinner,”

“It was my pleasure. I had a nice time finding out your punk phase in middle school too,”

“Okay, shut up,” you rolled your eyes, remembering the precise moment where you and Heeseung shared stories about each of you. Your big mouth just had to let it slip. “It was the past, and it was a phase,”

The mischievous smile persisted on his pretty face. “I would like to see it come to life again,”

“No you don't,” you poked his shoulder with a finger, and you let a beat pass, not removing it just yet. Heeseung arched an eyebrow in question, maintaining eye contact with you. 

The fingertip pressed against his shoulder eventually travelled upward and your palm pressed onto the same area. Your touch was gentle, fingers holding onto his shoulder lightly. “Goodnight, Hee,”

He visibly gulped, surprised at how close you've gotten in a split second. Not to mention, your touch on his shoulder was burning into his skin. It was such a small and simple gesture, yet he was crumbling from the inside. 

“Goodnight,” he mustered everything and managed to say, excusing the scarlet painted cheeks and ear tips. 

Once you removed your hand from his shoulder, he felt like he could finally breathe again. Was it normal to feel this way? To be completely knocked out of breath in a way? To be enamoured of you? 

With one last exchange of goodbyes, you disappeared behind your front door, leaving Heeseung there in the corridor to himself where he stood rooted to the ground, fingers grazing against the spot you had touched earlier, head tilted to one side and tongue wetting his lips in deep thought.

Then there was you, standing behind your door. Everything from the dinner up till now, you had to digest and process it. 

Because, that was all you needed to know to realise that you liked Heeseung, and you could only let time make you fall completely. 

— THE 1ST DATE, MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

“He’s taking you out on dates? Three dates?”

Kim Minjeong, your beloved best friend who stayed miles away from you, was screaming into your ear through the phone at nine in the morning. She was one of the closest friends you have that you kept in contact with, considering the amount of years you’ve spent together too. Now, you were in Monaco while she was in London, yet you were glad the distance didn’t stop you from being friends.

“The Lee Heeseung? That F1 champion?” she had been gasping nonstop throughout the phone call, and you didn’t blame her, it was a lot to take in. 

“Even you know him? Gosh, was I that oblivious? I truly think I was unprepared for the job,” you sighed, weighing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you attempted at picking an outfit for Heeseung’s first date.

“Way too oblivious. This was why I told you to come to the UK! Football is massive here, you’d be fit for a job anywhere,”

“Well, Jake practically begged me and I was unemployed so I took the chance,” you fling aside an overly fancy dress that was not fit for the casual, huffing quietly. Apparently, Heeseung had planned a dinner by the beach, taking you to watch the sunset before that too. Talk about being such a romantic guy, huh? “Besides, the pay was … convincing too,”

Minjeong barked out a humorous laugh that was mixed with disbelief, and you could almost picture her shaking her head, giving you that specific disapproving look. “Okay, whatever. Tell me more about this guy and the dates,”

“Heeseung? He’s nice, caring, funny, and just easy to be around,”

“Come on, there must be more than those plain descriptions,”

Of course there was. Heeseung was more than words could ever describe. He was a breath of fresh air on a summer's day, the type that was cooling and calm on a scorching hot day, soothing the burn on your skin. One look into his eyes was enough to fill you with contentment, everything about him was what you wished to have, but whether or not you could, you didn't know.

“There is…” your voice faltered into a whisper.

“Oh my God, you have a crush, don't you?” Minjeong practically screamed into your ear once again, making you recoil away from the phone for a second, wincing in pain. “You are just shy, I know it. You were always like this!”

You were in no place to correct her, she knew you through and through. “Fine, yes, I do fancy him—”

“You admitted it!”

“Well, yeah, after someone here egged me on,” you grumble quietly, listening to her giggles, knowing damn well she has a big wide grin plastered on her face. “I think I do like him,” you finally set down your chosen outfit, sitting on your bed in a slumped posture, mostly in defeat.

“You'll know over time, like, for sure. Based on my own experiences, when you're at that stage of thinking you like him, you tend to be in denial at first—” you rolled your eyes at that point, being heavily guilty, “then, you'd accept it, and fall harder and harder. Suddenly, you know you like him and boom, you're in deep!”

F.M.L. 

Everything she said had struck a point, and you being in the denial stage was already proving one of them. “You're—I—I don't think you're wrong,”

“I know I'm not. Just do what you feel is right, 'kay? He's into you too, don't overthink it! Man's planned four dates just for you to fall for him is already a clear sign,”

“You think?”

“Don't be stupid, Y/N. Anyone can tell how much Heeseung likes you.”

Anyone can tell how much Heeseungs likes you. That was the only thing running through your head for the rest of the time you got ready. It finally hit you that you had finally accomplished a little progress: admitting your feelings, but the problem was you’re literally seeing him in a few hours. How were you going to act normal around him? All of this was bringing back to your highschool years where you last felt the same as you were now, all giddy and preoccupied with thoughts of him. 

Leading up to the minute when your doorbell rang, signalling the presence of Lee Heeseung at your doorstep. Before opening the door, you did what you’ve never done, which was nervously tucking your hair behind your ears. What has gotten into you? The moment you pulled the door open, you were faced with him, the same man you were thinking about for God knows how long. He was in a simple outfit. White tee and light blue jeans, an outfit that totally complimented his tall and lean stature, plus his sun kissed skin that you ever so appreciate. He was absolutely gorgeous.

“I got you some flowers,” he revealed a small bouquet of tulips in different colours. “I figured the last one was probably wilting so I got you new ones,” 

You accepted it from him, cheeks matching the pink tulips amongst the bunch. He stuck to his words, though you didn’t believe it was true in the first place, mainly treating them light heartedly. “Thank you. You didn’t need to, you know?”

“I want to, don’t worry. It’s not hurting my wallet anyway,” he shrugged, not missing a chance to sweep his eyes along your body. “Besides, I like seeing you smile whenever you get them,”

That only got you flushing a deeper hue of pink. One thing about him was the fact that he knew his ways with words, and he was aware that he has an effect on you, so what more than to use both to its advantage. “Thank you then,” you turned to rush back inside to place the flowers away, but in actuality, you needed to hide your blushing face from Heeseung.

The drive to Larvotto beach was calming. Heeseung’s convertible car had its sunroof open the whole time, the evening air was cooling against your skin, and the sun was soon to set. You let yourself look over at Heeseung, watching his hair flow along the wind, a carefree expression on his face. He was always pretty, but seeing him under the dimming sun, it only made your heart tighter and eyes brighter. 

“Is it your first time here?” The beach was never the first place you’d thought to go to, especially when you’re not the biggest fan either. However, having Heeseung here made it an exception, or were you just biased? You weren’t complaining about having a personal tour guide either way.

“It is. I don’t think I’ve travelled much ever since I got here,” you kicked the sand with your feet, slightly thankful to have worn beach appropriate shoes. 

“There’s a lot of hidden gems here, I’ll bring you there during the break,”

You raised an eyebrow at him, tilting your head to one side. “Are you suggesting something? Hey, Lee Heeseung, why are you being so nice to me?”

“It’s because I like you,” no sugarcoating, neither did he flinch nor cower as he said it, face remaining impassive. You, however, were standing there with a thumping heart, mind practically yelling ‘did he just say that’ and ‘say something’ over again. Almost every possible word died on the tip of your tongue, leaving you stunned. 

What happened next only increased your confusion. Heeseung laughed. Right, you weren’t hallucinating whatsoever, he genuinely choked out a laugh, an awkward laugh, to be exact, and you were there questioning if his insanity was intact.

“Forget it, it’s nothing,” he waved it off, breathing deep and shaking his head. 

“It’s not ‘nothing’, Hee,” you frowned, crossing your arms and nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Okay, I drank a little before this,” he smiled, the same foolish smile that he sported around you, but soon it faltered. “You don’t need to say anything,” his voice softened. “Just … forgive me if I made you uncomfortable,”

“You’d never make me feel uncomfortable,” you were fidgeting with your fingers this time, unsure why you didn’t answer him back when you knew you liked him too. Were you scared? “Thank you,”

It was Heeseung’s turn to be confused. “For what?”

“For telling me, and … letting me know what I can do with my feelings next,” you needed time to sort everything out, and Heeseung understood that, but he also couldn’t resist being slightly curious about what you said. It was an unspoken fact that lingered in the air, from the first meeting until present, there had always been a spark between you two. You knew that, Heeseung knew that, but you were both just waiting for the right time to act on it. 

Heeseung’s soft smile reassured you a little more, and you knew there was nothing that’d make it awkward between you and him. You turned away from him, hiding the tinge of red gradually spreading on your cheeks. “It’s really pretty here,” the sun was already setting, painting the sky a darker shade of blue. The bright lights coming from the buildings nearby illuminated the area, bursting through the dark, just the same as the stars connecting the both of you burning brighter. 

You were looking around, unaware that Heeseung had his gaze on you instead, a faint smile pulled at his lips, a certain longing gleaming in his brown irises. “It really is.”

To your relief, the dinner wasn’t stiff or awkward, it flowed much more naturally than you expected. Heeseung’s sudden confession was truly out of the blue, but you blame yourself more for freezing like a deer in headlights. What could you do, feelings were odd, and you just weren’t fully ready right there and then. The scenery around got to take your mind off him though, basking in the bright lights and music, enjoying good food and company, you were thankful for it.

Just like the other night, you and him ended up in front of your front door by the end of the night. It was almost a reenactment of it too. He was staring at you and you stared back, both of you just standing there without wiping your stupid smiles away, as if playing a game about who would speak first. Spoiler, it’s you.

“Thanks for tonight … again,”

“My pleasure … again,” he mimicked your words, eliciting a scoff of disbelief from you, that grin on your face only widening, contrasting to your pointed glare. But soon it melted into a much more apologising stare, and you started biting your lips out of habit. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier by the way, I shouldn’t have kept quiet,”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping a little, but he reassured you another time. “It’s fine, really. I get it, you were shocked, I shouldn’t have done it either,”

“No—well—yeah, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me rejecting you or something, I’m not, okay? I just need some time,”

Heeseung seemed to look amused instead, lips curving up into a wider smile, twinkling eyes filled with a sense of adoration that you failed to notice. “I know,”

“You know?”

“I know. Y/N, you don’t need to explain anything to me, you don’t owe me an explanation whatsoever. It’s your feelings and what’s mine is mine,” he reached over to brush a strand of hair that fell onto your face. His action rendered you motionless, you found yourself holding your breath for a split second, gaze wandering around his features screaming ‘you’re insane!’ He was, in fact, insane, crazy even to pull this stunt on you, whereas you were too buzzed from the cocktails to form a proper reaction to it. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, realising you needed to get more alcohol in your system to fully take everything in. If only you had known earlier that having a crush would be this complicated, then maybe you wouldn’t have one in the first place. But it was impossible anyway, Lee Heeseung knew his way to your heart. Screw him. Unlike your mini rant in your head, your face lit up at the mention of his name, drawing his attention instantly. “Would you like to … join me for a drink?”

It was an invitation that meant more than what it seemed, one that told him you've opened your heart to him, letting him in. 

“A drink?” from the sound of his voice, he already sounded convinced, but mildly surprised at your sudden offer. 

“Yes, or maybe a few,” you smoothly unlocked your door, blinking at him with a teasing grin.

Heeseung let out a chuckle at the sight of you, so inviting and jumpy, absentmindedly filling his heart with more adoration, eventually having no choice but to cave in. Well, he has to push his trainer and nutritionist to the back of his mind and place you in the centre of it. “I can’t say no to that,”

“Be my guest.” you pushed the door open, dropping an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder as he passed, then closed the door to start a night of deep talks paired with red wine.

That night, you fell asleep at four in the morning, surprisingly with Heeseung by your side. One bottle led to another, and soon, you were both drunk, slumped on the couch in a stupor. Before Heeseung could realise or even form a single conscious thought, he had fallen asleep. Let’s just say the morning after could only be described with ‘hungover’, ‘dead tired’ but also, ‘filled with a new found love’. Maybe all it took was a drunken night with secrets told to get you one step closer to fully admit your liking.

— THE 2ND DATE, BAKU, AZERBAIJAN 2023

You wished your break lasted forever. In a blink of an eye, you're suddenly in a new country with a lasting jet lag. It wasn't just you who thought that either, it was the entirety of the garage. 

Another day, another race. You had to remind yourself that the season's schedule hasn't even reached halfway yet and there's still more to come, which is why you shouldn't expect a quick freedom from work.

“What did you do over the short break?” Jake stared expectantly at you as you handed him his gloves, the garage was filled with loud buzzing noises of metal. 

“I went on a date,”

Jake's eyes almost bulged out of his head at your casual response. “You what?”

“I went on a date,” you repeated a little harshly this time, handing him his balaclava that he didn't bother to put on until he was satisfied with your responses.

“I need more details,”

“There's not much details,”

“Who was it?”

“I don't want to say,”

“Why not? Is he some socialite? Monaco's filled with rich upper class people,”

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, narrowing your gaze at him, visibly unamused. “Rich? Yes. Socialite? Not really,”

“Why are you making me guess?” He crossed his arms, clearly agitated at your reluctance.

“Why are you butting into my business when you're supposed to be putting this—” you pointed feverishly at the balaclava in his hand, “—on and getting your ass into the car,”

“Can't your sweet ol' cousin know?” He grumbled, finally pulling on the white balaclava over his head. 

“You'll know when the time is right,” you said with a finality in your tone, and Jake huffed in annoyance but not making another comment.

You wished him good luck and after you pressed an encouraging kiss against his cheek, he left to prepare for the race that was about to begin in less than an hour. 

Sitting amongst your coworkers, you were discussing with them about the possibility of winning, watching the race on a screen. The orange Mclaren cars were seen zooming past, climbing higher on the scoreboard.

However, your eyes were particularly set on a specific name. 'LEE' paired with a Ferrari logo, was sitting high on top of the leaderboard. Of course he was, you thought.

An hour had passed and with one last lap to go, Heeseung was fighting with Jay from Mercedes to snatch first place on the podium. You held your breath for a minute, eyes flickering between the timer and the cars that were inching close to one another. Then there it was, Heeseung's red Ferrari overtook Jay's silver Mercedes and crossed the finish line, a chequered flag waving in the air and you fell backwards onto your seat.

“Lee Heeseung yet again,” one of your colleagues, Keeho, breathed out in astonishment. 

“He's the ace for a reason,” Chaewon, your favourite PR manager and another one of your colleagues, added thoughtfully. 

The garage still had a reason to celebrate nonetheless. Jake came in third, securing another podium for him this season, meanwhile his teammate, Dokyeom secured fourth place, missing out narrowly for a spot on the podium. The team was in high spirits knowing there were points scored and their efforts were not in vain. 

While you were stuck in the garage celebrating with your colleagues, Jake and Heeseung were chilling in the cool down room, a place where drivers recover after a race, before heading out to the podium. Jake was eyeing Heeseung, a little thought in mind.

“So … what were you up to over the break? Didn't hear someone calling out for a small party or something,” Jake whispered quietly enough so that only both him and Heeseung could hear it.

Heeseung shrugged, unaware of Jake's intentions. “I trained, ate, went shopping and had a date—”

“A date you say …” his mind began to work, suspicions increasing further. “Funny, interesting …”

Heeseung pulled a face at Jake's odd behaviour, leaning his body away from the younger. “You're being weird,”

“Well, I'm just thinking,” he waved his friend off, smiling devilishly. “Plus, since when does Lee Heeseung go on dates?”

“Ever since a few weeks ago,” Heeseung grumbled, taking bigger gulps from his bottle.

“I see,” Jake smirked, enjoying teasing the hell out of Heeseung. “Treat her well, Lee,” he meant that even though he made it sound lighthearted. It wasn't hard to piece two and two together, he just didn't want to poke his nose into your business. 

“I will, like my heart depends on it.”

The rest of the day eventually consisted of team celebrations and lots of picture taking with the media team. You accompanied Jake until the end and you felt like you could breathe once again when your back touched the bed of your hotel room.

It was barely evening time and you were already begging for sleep, even when Chaewon came in to invite you for dinner at some restaurant nearby, you had to decline and promised there'll be a next time. The silence in the room was what accompanied you while you texted Jake, rolling your eyes at some stupid comments he made, until you paused at the sight of a new notification.

championhee: up for an impromptu date?

you: i'm too tired to go out :(

championhee: who said we're going out? send me your room number and the floor you're in, i'll be there soon

That got you sitting up real fast. 

Heeseung was coming to your room and you're dressed unprepared, looking equally unready. You threw on a decent looking outfit, one that didn’t seem that you tried too hard, but at least your effort could be recognised. It was a fact you never worked well with sudden plans, this was an example of it.

You couldn’t even concentrate on the screen of your phone, attention constantly diverting to the door, knowing Heeseung would turn up at any minute. At this point, tiredness completely disappeared from your body, leaving you awake and alert enough for a date. 

Speaking of the devil.

The thoughts of him manifested into reality when you heard the knocks on your door, a quiet hum coming from the other side. It didn’t take a beat to know it was Heeseung. Your familiarity of him by now was astounding, almost as if you had his memorised and imprinted into your senses without your knowledge. You broke into a smile at the realisation of his presence, bounding towards the door to whip it open, meeting his smiling eyes.

“Hey, pretty,”

There it was again, that pet name he reserved specially for you, just you and no one else. It didn’t help that his messy, newly washed hair was falling perfectly onto his forehead, skin clad in a loose white t-shirt, a killer combo for you. 

“Are you not going to let me in or ��?” 

You’ve stared too long, haven't you? Snapping out of your shameless ogle session, you opened the door wider, stepping away. “Come in, please,” 

“I brought some takeaway,” he held up two bags of food, flashing you a toothy grin that made his cheeks puff cutely. 

“Sweet,” you helped him with the bags, setting them on a low table, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable, and so he did. 

Heeseung sat himself down on the carpeted floor, manoeuvring the table closer to him before staring at your every movement across the room. Stars were lingering in his irises, he was looking at you like you were the brightest one in the sky. You turned around just in time to catch his gaze, a feeling of fireworks bursting in your heart. He didn’t need any words to convey his emotions, all it took was a single look at you.

“Let’s eat,” he patted on the spot next to him.

You nodded, casting him a friendly smile and sat down at that exact spot. You accidentally brushed against his shoulder from time to time, even as you reached for the food, you would make contact with him, the touches alone were enough to send an electric shock between you two. Nervous glances and small talks were exchanged, you could feel the tension in the air and you didn’t know if it was the beer Heeseung brought or you were just going insane.

“Lee Heeseung,” his name contrasted to the bitter aftertaste of beer on your tongue. By then, a few cans of beer were consumed, your eyes were starting to droop and to you, Heeseung was the universe at that moment. “Your attempts to make me fall in love are failing…”

“Hm?” The much sober man sitting next to you was leaning over to catch a better glimpse of you, curiosity and dread welling up in his throat at the sound of your words.

“Because…I think I’ve already been in love with you since the beginning,” 

Heeseung almost saw his life flash in front of his eyes. You were there in front of him, in all your glory, saying something that you probably wouldn’t remember in the morning whereas it would just stay with Heeseung until the day he dies. You couldn’t even sit straight, cheeks tainted pink and breath smelling like cheap beer, but you said those words with so much clarity that even Heeseung forgot you were drunk for a second.

“W–what?”

“Lee Heeseung,” you repeated his name again, and Heeseung swore he was much nervous now compared to fighting for his championship. “You’re right. Emotions and feelings are weird, I don’t know why but every time I see you … I just feel …” you pointed at your heart, “my heart feels full,”

“Are you drunk?”

“Yeah,”

“Did you mean what you say?”

“Yeah,”

Heeseung heaved a small sigh, lips forming a small smile. He got a hold of your arm, gently lifting you to your feet. “Let’s get you to bed, it’s late,”

“It’s only ten! Plus, they’re out clubbing, you can stay longer,” you pleaded, pulling on his sleeves despite barely having any energy left yourself. “I want you to stay,”

“I didn’t know you were this clingy when you’re drunk,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes following your movement as you climbed into bed, tucking yourself under the covers. “I’ll stay,”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Heeseung was always a man of his words. He sat next to your sleeping figure, having not much to do and thus was left to think about what you said earlier on. This was a first for him in a long time, to experience a complicated amount of feelings he’s never had until he met you and letting himself be vulnerable around you. What were you doing to him? Even when he left your room to walk back to his, all he could think of was your face and the look you had when you were with him.

It was the first time he has seen you so open to him. Maybe you were the same back when you drank together, but to be fair, Heeseung was equally drunk to even remember the full details. This time around, he got to see you and the secret messages hidden behind your gaze. That night, just like the first night he met you, he was in bed stuck awake just thinking about you. 

— THE 3RD DATE, MIAMI, USA, 2023

You were sure you embarrassed yourself in front of Heeseung that night in the hotel room. Waking up to a headache with minimal recollection the next morning had you realising drinking was truly your biggest enemy. However, you were surprised to see water and aspirin already prepared on your bedside table, and no, it wasn’t Chaewon that placed it considering she was knocked out flat. It was Heeseung. 

Groaning further into your pillow, you saw his messages asking if you were fine, to which you replied yes, but hesitating whether you should bring up the conversation you had. Look, you barely remembered it, but you knew you said something along the lines of being in love with him. That alone had you kicking your pillows in frustration.

Now here you were, in the middle of Miami, preparing for another week of work. The jet lag wasn’t even giving you a headache, it was Heeseung and the thought of him that caused it. 

He seemed fine, completely normal both over text and in person, but you just had a feeling that night had shifted something in the air someway or another. Worst part of all, you were both ignoring it, or you assumed Heeseung had brushed it under the rug. 

You pushed the thought to the back of your mind for the time being, going forward with the work you had on hand and busying yourself just to forget about him. But how could you do that when he loved announcing his presence at random times? 

It wasn’t even the weekend yet, precisely the evening before media day when Heeseung sent you a message. ‘Date?’ was self explanatory, but once he turned up on the doorstep of your hotel room, you feared your heart wasn’t going to last at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” you greeted rather awkwardly, trying to keep the door open while slipping on your shoes. Heeseung managed a smile, helping you hold onto the door and waited for you until you finally rushed out, joining his side. 

“Hey, you good?” Heeseung turned to look at you, sincere concern laced in his voice. It was probably your stiff smile or unnaturalness that he noticed, not knowing that you were troubled by the things you said to him.

“I’m good, very good,” you assured, though partially lying, casting a side glance at him. “I didn’t think you’d bring me out on a date right before the race weekend,”

“It’s our last date out of the three I promised, and I want it to be on a day where we’re both not tired and fighting for our lives,” he leaned his head down slightly to catch your eyes, flashing you a playful smirk. “Plus, the date I planned requires a little more … energy,”

“Energy?”

Energy and strength were truly what you needed. Heeseung had planned a skating date all along, a disco skating one, not to mention. It seemed that he had done his research too, the place wasn’t far from the hotel and you were able to make it there by foot. In no time, the two of you entered the indoor skating rink, the dim coloured lights and loud music welcomed you.

You waited on a bench until Heeseung came back with two pairs of skates, making big steps towards you with an excited bounce in his steps. Watching him and that stupid grin he has on his face totally had your heart flipping, mind yelling at you and eyes shining brightly. If it wasn’t obvious to him, you were sure others would’ve already noticed either way. 

“Have you done this before?” you took the skates from him and he plopped down next to you, turning his head at the mention of your question. 

“Skate? I have. Sunghoon is really good at this, on ice too. He brought me and some of the guys skating before,” his hands moved fast, pulling the skates on and lacing them within a minute, then noticing you haven’t even got yours on yet. “Here,” he gently took the skates from your hold, getting up and kneeling down to put them on for you.

“Y–you don’t need to—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let me,” he was staring up at you, and at that moment, in the dim lights, shadows on his face drawing out his beaming eyes, you felt something new. Heeseung glanced up once more, hands tying your laces skillfully. “Are you okay? You look a little … red,”

You didn’t even realise how hot you were feeling despite being in an air conditioned room. Were you okay? No, thanks to the man before you that always successfully has you become a flustered mess. “Y–yeah, fine, completely fine,”

By the time he was done, you swore you had trouble breathing every time he looked up at you. Something so casual turned into something more than just that. You had to remind yourself not to give in easily, but seeing him offer his hand and feeling the touch of his skin made your knees weak. “Shall we?”

“Truth be told, I’m a little scared,”

“First time?”

“Not really,” you frowned, your other hand coming to grip onto Heeseung’s forearm once you entered the rink. “Just … balancing skills,” 

“Hold onto my hand, I got you,” he squeezed your hand in reassurance, skating side by side and never loosening his hold once. “Listen to the music, it helps,” 

He wasn’t entirely wrong. With the help of ABBA and some Fleetwood Mac, you found yourself enjoying this more than you expected. It was much better when you finally gained the momentum and were able to balance better. Okay, there were a few slips and trips, but it only gave you and Heeseung a laugh, and seeing the way his lips curve into a smile, eyes forming a crescent shape, your face unknowingly smiled along.

“Are you ready?” 

You whipped your head to look at him, absolutely puzzled. “What?”

Heeseung let go of your hand, but before you could panic or slip, he slowed down until he was directly behind you, hands holding onto your waist. The foreign feeling of his touch on your waist had knocked the air out of your lungs, your body instantly turning still under his fingers. 

“Hey! This wasn’t part of the plan,” you tried turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, but you only heard his laugh.

“I wanted to get closer to you,” at that, you could practically feel his front almost pressing against your back, and you wondered where he got the sudden confidence from. “Can I get closer to you?” his breath was basically fanning against the shell of your ear, and as each second passed, you found your will crumbling.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” you coughed, trying to seem nonchalant, but knowing you were gradually failing at that. You were glad your back was facing Heeseung so that he didn’t have any chance to see your reaction. You were left in a blushing mess, unaware of how Heeseung was stifling his laugh behind you. 

Once your legs got tired from constantly skating around the rink and you were starting to be sick of the repeated songs, you and Heeseung decided it was time to leave. On the way back to your hotel, you were walking hand in hand, barely much space in between you and him. You glanced at him briefly, pursing your lips in thought. 

“Thanks for taking me out tonight. I didn’t know you were skilled at skating just as much as driving a racecar,”

“It’s my side gig,” he joked, smiling when you started laughing quietly. “I hope you enjoyed it. I wanted the third date to be something special, but most importantly, for you to have fun,”

“I had fun, just not the times I almost fell and broke my ankle,” you exaggerated, but half of it was semi-true.

“I would be there to catch you if you fall,”

“Oh, my knight in shining armour,” you fanned yourself, leaning your shoulder against his. You felt his shoulder shaking slightly from chuckling, seemingly bemused by you. “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,”

“I don’t want this to be our last date,”

Heeseung gave your hand a squeeze, maybe out of reflex or instinct, you didn’t know, but it was definitely unconsciously done. He slowly turned to meet your eyes, you didn’t expect the constellations of hope, confusion and love weaved in his irises, shining brightly as if they were trying to tell you a message in an unspoken language that only he understood. 

“Then it won’t be our last,” Heeseung almost sounded relieved, glad that it wasn’t just him that felt this way. “Who said I’ll stop talking to you after this? You’re unfortunately stuck with me whether you like it or not,”

“Sounds like a curse,”

“You’re not complaining either,”

“I’m not,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, flashing him a teasing grin that he reciprocated. “Are you walking me all the way to the door?”

Heeseung shot you a look of deadpan, as if asking ‘are you hearing yourself?’ “I’m not one to dump you down in the lobby and leave, am I?”

“Touche,”

All the way up to your room, you couldn’t help yourself from casting frequent glances at him. He was real, so real and breathing next to you. Yet, why did he seem so hard to have whenever your heart screamed for him? He was Lee Heeseung, a three times world champion that everyone loves and probably countless girls chase, you were just … you. Somehow, you were the one he chose.

“Will you let me take you out on a date some other time again?” Heeseung’s hand finally left yours, now standing in front of you and facing your hotel door, the number ‘111’ reminded him of his car’s number, number one. 

“Well … I’ll have to see, maybe,” you placed a hand on your chin, playfully irking him on, liking the way his tongue poked against the insides of his cheek. “I’m kidding, of course you can, I love spending my time with you,”

“You do?”

“If I don’t I wouldn’t have gone on these dates with you, Hee, obviously I love being with you,” the words wouldn’t stop pouring out, whether or not you were aware of it, Heeseung felt heat travelling up to the tips of his ears. “Let’s just say the objective of this whole date plan was achieved,”

It didn’t hit Heeseung until a second later. Did that mean the things you said that night were true? Not that he didn’t believe them either, he just thought he had heard you wrongly, or more rather he tried convincing himself that. Before Heeseung could utter a response, you spoke first, fully aware of what you said and your intended meaning behind it.

“Thanks again, for tonight and everything, Hee. I do have the best time whenever I’m with you,” you breathed deeply, fighting the urge to just turn around and run away instead of being in this tension filled environment. “I should get going now, and you too. Text me when you’re back, okay? Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t sleep too late.”

You nodded, turning around to unlock the door with your keycard, but the moment you heard a click sound, you didn’t immediately make a dash inside unlike the initial thought you had in mind. Instead, you faced Heeseung once more, noticing the confused smile he had on his face. Hell, you couldn’t believe you’re doing this.

Almost like a flash, you practically jumped towards him, pressing a kiss on his cheek that somehow landed much closer to his mouth. Your aim was ass, but it seemed neither of you mind. Heeseung definitely was the one who looked the most amused. His gaze was sweeping your figure, tongue poking out to sweep across his bottom lip.

“Bye!”

“Y/N—” 

That was when Heeseung snapped out of his momentary daze, but he was too late, you had already made your escape by slamming the door behind you. Standing there, heart beating quick, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you broke into a foolish smile, giggling all to yourself. 

“Have you gone insane?”

Chaewon peeped her head out from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging in his mouth, a humoured, yet concerned expression staring back at you. She most likely heard your hushed self talk and giggles, then presumed you’ve probably hit your head somewhere or got drunk. 

You grinned at her.

“Insane? Yeah.”

— MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Being back in Monaco for the grand prix was both a blessing and a curse. For the pros, you get to stay in your lovely home instead of hotel rooms, as for the cons, work was all you could think of. At least you’d get a comfortable bed to sleep in after a long day at the circuit.

Over the course of two weeks after that night in Miami, you realised you haven’t seen Heeseung much in person. He was busy in Italy even though the race was cancelled, must’ve been a Ferrari driver thing that he claimed over text. You were equally piled with work and personal matters too. Who knew the role of being Jake’s trainer slash assistant was stressful enough to wish you were strangling your own cousin. 

Thankfully, there was something better to look forward to compared to the current downside in your life. Minjeong, the person you’ve been waiting all month for, was finally in Monte Carlo, specifically in your house, catching up with the copious amount of drama about every aspect of your life. 

“Okay, enough about the annoying team principal,” Minjeong held her hand up, catching you off guard and dumbfounded. “I need to cut to the important part, your love life. Heeseung! You’ve barely been telling me about him,”

“I—well—there’s some good and bad things about my encounters with him,” you winced, recalling your drunken moment and that time on the beach. “The dates are all good, but I think the problem is me,”

“How so? Spill,”

“He told me he liked me,”

“What did you say?”

“I panicked,”

Minjeong was rendered speechless, silence overtaking your embarrassed smile while your best friend stared at you, unamused. “And why would you do that?”

“God, I don’t know,” you threw your hands up in defeat, body falling back into the couch. “The thing is, I don’t think I was ready. I was still figuring shit out, and it just … happened? I feel like a dickhead,”

“It’s normal, your feelings weren’t clear. He didn’t even react badly, that’s a plus point,” you listened to Minjeong, nodding along in agreement. “So, have you set your feelings straight now?”

“I have, I really do like him, I think I’m going insane at this point,” you ran a hand through your hair, chewing on your bottom lip. “I even told him I’m in love with him when I was drunk. Can you imagine that?”

“No, I can’t! You professing your love to a man? That’s a first from you,” she shook her head, a knowing smile growing on her lips. “I don’t see you acting this way with your ex either,”

“It’s different…” you mumbled under your breath, feeling heat travelling up to your cheeks. Here she was again, proving and pointing out something you didn’t even realise until then.

“It sure is,” she threw a pillow at you, cackling almost maniacally at your cowering figure. You were doing a poor job at hiding your shyness and blushing face.

The timing couldn’t have been any better when you heard a buzz coming from your phone, checking it just in time to see Heeseung’s contact name coming into view. Of course, Minjeong was already making noises when she saw your eyes widening, further proving her guess. You skimmed over his messages, and it seemed he had invited you to Jay’s yacht party. 

A party before race weekend? Risky, but who were you to say? Maybe you’d have to keep Jake in check first, remembering you’re still his trainer no matter what. Until then, you looked over at Minjeong, her raised eyebrow meeting your expectful gaze. 

“We have a party tonight.”

Let’s just say it was your first time being at a yacht party. Yachts weren’t an uncommon thing to have in Monaco as long as you had the money for it. Now that it was the grand prix weekend, only more turned up at the docks, and to think some of them were owned by the drivers themselves too was surprising. 

“Do you know anyone here?” Minjeong was sticking close to your side the moment you entered, being equally foreign considering a yacht wasn’t your typical go to party venue. You guessed you had to get used to it after knowing there would be a post race yacht party coming on Sunday. 

“Other than Jake, Heeseung and some drivers, no,” you offered an apologetic smile that wasn’t assuring in any way either. “But I bet there’s going to be good food and drinks here,” that was quick to buy Minjeong’s excitement.

championhee: you here yet?

you: am hereee, wru?

championhee: i see you, give me a sec

You glanced up from your phone, looking around but only seeing masses of people you weren’t familiar with, and the neon lights weren’t making it better for you, it was harder to match people to their faces. One turn to the left and you were just in time to catch Heeseung’s eyes, finally a face you recognised that seemed to melt your heart every single time. 

“Hey, pretty,” he ever so smoothly leaned down to swoop an arm around your waist, pulling you in a hug. If you had to be honest, it surely did surprise you, but you weren’t complaining. After that time you landed a peck on his cheek, you found yourself being much more touchy with him without your knowledge, and he surprisingly went along with it. 

“Hi, Hee. How’s the party?” he soon pulled away, the feeling of his embrace disappearing and the sweet scent of his cologne drifted further from you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? After all I invited you here,”

“You’re here longer than me, I wanted an insight,”

“An insight?” Heeseung hummed, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well, Jay is almost drunk even though it’s his party and his yacht. Jake is off somewhere, I told him you’re coming and I wished you saw the look on his face, he knew he was in trouble—”

“I’ll hunt him down tomorrow, don’t worry,”

Heeseung let out a snort, shaking his head at the thought of Jake getting a beating from his trainer. “The rest of them are just partying and dancing,”

“What about some of these other people?” you nodded at some girls at the side, then eyed a few guys shamelessly flirting with other girls. 

“I’m not involved in Jay’s invite process, but I think some of them are models, friends or just—I don’t know—known? I don’t think I know these people either,” he laughed a little at the end, following your gaze but it only landed back to your face in the end. “I know you kinda hate partying on some random day before the race weekend, so if you want to, you can always tell me, and we can just dip to somewhere else,”

“I mean … I really want to take up that offer but—”

A cough interjected you. Talk about divine timing. Minjeong was back from her small trip around the yacht, a glass of cocktail held in her hand. Her piercing gaze was all it took for you to know what she was trying to say, so you pulled her close to your side. “Heeseung, this is my best friend, Minjeong,”

“Hi, I’m Lee Heeseung,” he offered a courteous bow of his head, smiling politely at Minjeong. She was scanning him eye to toe, trying her best to keep a stoic expression. 

“Nice to meet you,” she raised her glass slightly, shooting you a knowing grin paired with her glinting eyes. Oh, that totally meant Heeseung had passed Minjeong’s ‘test’. “So … you and Y/N, huh?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you let out a stiff laugh, narrowing your eyes at her as she continued to smile at you, fully aware of what she’s doing. 

She leaned close to your ear, whispering quietly so that only you and her were able to hear. “I’m going to leave you to him and go around looking for my man for the night,”

“How are you getting back?” you whispered in a hushed tone, giving her a pointed look.

“I’ll have my ways. I’ll text you and you better text me too. For now, you have your fun,” there was a finality in her tone, and before you could argue on, she stood straight, staring ahead at Heeseung. “She’s yours for the night …” Minjeong gave your shoulder a light pat, leaving your side and brushing past Heeseung. “... loverboy,” she added teasingly, then disappeared into the sea of people. 

“Ignore her,” you waved your hands awkwardly, but it seemed Heeseung wasn’t fazed at all, totally bemused on the contrary of what you expected.

“I think she’s cool,” he gave a thumbs up, prompting you to roll your eyes at him. “Come on, let me introduce you to some of the guys, then we’ll grab some drinks,”

“Sounds good,”

It was your first time being properly introduced to part of the drivers. You’ve seen most of them in passing and knew who they were, but not till the point of knowing them on a personal level, that was new to you. There was Jeno who drove for Ferrari alongside Heeseung that you got to meet, and also that really hot tattooed driver, Jungkook, from Mercedes. If Heeseung hadn’t pulled you away sooner, you would’ve probably swooned over Jungkook more, just like every other girl in the vicinity did. 

Heeseung proceeded to drag you to some other place. It was then you saw some familiar faces that you were already introduced to since the beginning. Jay, the host himself, was genuinely pissed drunk by the time you went up to greet him, but at least he was sober enough to form sentences so you guessed that’s something. Then there was Sunghoon, the driver of Red Bull Racing that was accompanied by your cousin, Jake, looking a little cold at first glance, but his features instantly melted into a big grin at the sight of you and his friend.

Some small talks with them didn’t hurt, but it was the blaring music that did, mostly for your eardrums. The crowded area was unfortunately a no-go either, so you and Heeseung decided to seek refuge somewhere else, ignoring the interested whispers from his three friends that watched the two of you sneak away.

“Here you go, your shirley temple,” you were on one of those couches that were placed on the deck, most of them being empty since everyone was situated at some other place in the yacht, giving you and Heeseung a chance of alone time together. You were sipping on the mocktail Heeseung passed you, feeling his presence next to you.

“It’s been such a week,” Heeseung sighed, stretching his limbs. “Visited the factory back in Italy, then finished some business there and having to fly back to Monaco, I think this is one of my first relaxation times,”

“This party? You should be home sleeping instead, Hee, that’s proper relaxation,” you could see the dark circles under his eyes now that he’s mentioned it.

“Just wanted to find an excuse to spend time with you,” he leaned his head back slightly, wearing a wry smile on his tired face.

“You don’t need an excuse for that, you can always just tell me whenever,”

Heeseung nodded slowly, taking a sip out of his own glass, an obvious wave of relief passed through him. Your eyes, however, were stuck on him. No, there wasn’t alcohol that influenced you to do so, your mocktail was surely nonalcoholic, it was the fact that you realised how in love with Heeseung you were. 

Uh oh, you like him.

Wait.

Oh, you're in love with him. 

Under the changing hues of purple, blue LED lights, you found yourself coming to terms that you were truly whipped and flashing heart eyes at him. You watched his every movement, the way he blinked or even sip at his drink, you scrutinised them all, because to you, he was a nova that shined the brightest amongst the rest. 

“You okay?” Heeseung noticed the change in your behaviour, the tiredness in his face morphed into concern as he leaned in close to check on you, not realising how near his face was. 

“Huh?” That was the only thing you could manage out, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips, gradually shrinking under the intensity of his stare and the closeness of his face. He knew, you did too, but why were both of you holding back? What were you so scared of?

Magically and suddenly, the thoughts in your mind somehow manifested into reality when he started closing in. You felt your breath catch in your throat, conveying a sign of green light through a reassuring nod, trying to ignore your heart beating abnormally fast.  

Then there it was, Heeseung’s lips on yours and a burst of butterflies swarmed your abdomen. Was it real? Was this actually happening? The lingering taste of his whiskey left a bitter tang on your tongue when you kissed back, wanting more but before you could let it progress deeper, it had already ended.

Heeseung pulled away, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. You thought he was going to kiss you again, and you tried smiling, thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. But it seemed your sweet daydream was immediately crushed to the ground when Heeseung gradually got up from the couch, the look on his face was telling you things weren’t going great.

“Hee?”

An apologetic look flashed across Heeseung’s expression. “Fuck—I’m sorry,” 

“Wait—!”

You couldn’t grasp onto him and he slipped right through your fingers. There you were, confused and feeling the opposite of what a kiss should give. Did something go wrong, you wondered, or were you just too late? Too late to realise your love for him when he had already told you earlier on about how he felt about you. What did he even mean by apologising to you?

You tried searching for him around the place, but he was nowhere to be seen, only managing to find a surprisingly sober Minjeong that sensed your panic and despair. There was nothing you could do but slump in defeat, pulling Minjeong out of the yacht and back home.

First kiss with the guy you liked went wrong. Sounded like some clickbait YouTube title, didn't it? Well, it was actually reality, your reality.

To your absolute dismay, the race weekend was horrendous, at least for you.

Ever since that night in the yacht, you came to the realisation that Heeseung was avoiding you. Right, avoiding you like a plague whenever you caught sight of him or vice versa. 

How did you know? Well, there were multiple occasions to explain it but the most memorable was the time when you bumped into him one morning at your front door. It was actually the morning after the party, freshly awake and still confused from the night before, you wanted to question him once you saw him by his door, but from the way his door slammed faster than the speed for you to form a sentence, you could tell he did not want that confrontation.

Minjeong said maybe the kiss had shocked him, but he was also the one that initiated it. All of the guesses just seemed to meet dead ends. The day you dropped Minjeong off at the airport was when you knew you were left on your own to deal with Heeseung and your heart. No matter how you try to text him or get him to not run away at the sight of you, in the end it kept failing.

The sadness eventually turned into frustration, which explained your unannounced presence at the Ferrari hospitality right before the race. Were you insane? Totally. 

You knew where he was, and it wasn't hard to spot when they literally had a room dedicated to their world champion, making it easier for you to locate and bust the doors down. If you had to be honest, you wished you did.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You took no time to fool around and got down to business the moment you closed the door shut behind you. There was no one other than him in the room, thankfully, or else you'd be dying out of embarrassment first.

Heeseung dropped his phone in shock, not expecting you to turn up there and then. “W–what?”

Was he serious? “Are you avoiding me?” You repeated, standing with a hand on your waist, staring accusingly at him.

“No …”

“You're lying,” Of course he was. You could tell by the way he was chewing on the insides of his cheek when he said it, and it definitely wasn't helping his case. “So … we're not going to talk about that night? The night where you ran away after we kissed?”

“It's not that—”

“Then what is it, Hee? Why are you making me feel this way? Are you mad at me?”

“No, I'm not,” he denied at once, eyebrows furrowing in distress. “I could never get mad at you …” he mumbled quietly, and it only made you sigh in further agitation.

“Why can't you just tell me?” 

“Look, Y/N, now's not really the best time, the race's about to start soon and I have to be down at the tracks in ten minutes, we don't have the time to talk it over,” as much as you hate to admit it, Heeseung was right, there was barely enough time to talk. “How about we have a proper talk after the race?”

“You won't run away from me again, will you?”

“I won't,”

You couldn't exactly say he lied but he didn't stick to his words either. 

Winning the grand prix naturally got him swarmed by an obscene amount of people after the race, giving you zero chance to congratulate him or even slip in a word. Leading up to the celebration on the podium and the time after that, you still didn't get to have that 'talk' with him, nor did you see him. 

He wasn't home by the time you returned to your apartment either. It only made your heart heavier as each hour passed, your expectations seemingly getting crushed. You had to begrudgingly put on a presentable outfit for the yacht party, nearly forgetting about this matter until Chaewon brought it up and promised herself that she'd get shitfaced. Good for her.

Arms looped and hips bumping into each other, you and Chaewon made your way through the crowded yacht. The pool on the deck was the least surprising element of the yacht when there was literally a celebrity DJ controlling the music. You've taught yourself to be less surprised now that you're working here.

“To be honest, this is kinda overwhelming,” Chaewon whispered, glancing around. 

“Parties are overwhelming in general,”

“Well, this one's on a yacht. A yacht, and there's a pool too,”

“You have a point,”

“I need a shot—several shots—and find Anton too, he's like, a baby,” Chaewon just really wouldn't let that intern engineer go, would she?

“Go, go, that kid is probably lost somewhere too,” you laughed, thinking about the new intern that happened to give everyone a lasting impression.

“What about you?”

“I'll be fine, I'll just grab some drinks and go. I'm tired,” you weren't lying, a day's work was enough to take you out, you were shocked to see Chaewon still having a crazy amount of energy left in her after that.

Tired was an understatement though. You felt your energy draining away when Chaewon left, and you were alone to wander around in a yacht with countless strangers. 

There were a few familiar faces you recognised, both drivers and colleagues, but none were Heeseung. That was disappointing.

However, almost on cue once you weaved past a group of people, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you when you spotted him. Jet black hair, a black silk button up hung loosely on his frame, except he was sitting amongst a bunch of … models? Laughing? 

Your expectations only dropped lower to the pits of hell. 

Oh, you felt sick. A horrible feeling of jealousy and anger bubbled in your abdomen. If you could, you would've stormed up to him and grabbed him by his collar demanding an explanation, but instead, you were stuck to your position, unmoving.

How could he just sit there and laugh? All while you were promised a talk that never even happened. Why? Because he didn't bother to find you. Right.

Before you knew it, you were already walking away, the crack in your heart becoming bigger, tiredness overcoming you. Maybe this life wasn't meant for you after all. What if you and him weren't even meant to be in the first place? He was a worldwide famous driver, and you were just his friend's cousin that worked as his trainer, that alone sounded too different, too much of a contrast.

It didn't help that your mind was overthinking at that point onwards. All you needed now was your bed and a romcom to cry to. You guess that was your night routine sorted out.

Who knew liking someone everyone wants was this hard?

— BARCELONA, SPAIN, 2023

Lee Heeseung wished he was a little smarter.

He may be an ace, flourishing in racing and everything that life throws at him, he was good at anything and everything. Feelings, however, were another matter for a world champion like him.

That night, that kiss, had altered his brain in a way that he couldn't explain. Heeseung was always aware that he's into you. Hell, he was the one initiating the dates and flirty cues, who was he kidding? But that kiss got him overthinking.

Heeseung knew you were most likely interested too, considering you've never once rejected his advances. Yet, the problem wasn't there, it was whether or not you liked him, like actually like him. That kiss, did it matter to you just as much as it did to him, he thought.

That night on the beach where he confessed didn't help his case of overthinking either. Concerns after concerns piling onto one another. Heeseung knew you didn't reject him, but he couldn't tell if you reciprocated the feelings for him. Then, there was also that time when you got drunk and practically confessed your love to him, no what was that? Without any explanation either? See, Heeseung was trying to justify the mess going on in his mind.

So, being the person that he was, he chose to run before he had the chance to be dumped. Yes, Lee Heeseung was a coward in disguise.

It was an easy way out, or so it seemed at first, until Heeseung started to feel guilty, regretful and heartbroken over the fact that he was doing this. Truly the consequences of his own actions. But, he couldn't bear to face you either. 

Seeing you filled him with emotions and thoughts that were simply unbearable. When you burst through the door to confront him, he was truly rendered speechless at the sight of you. It was as if his ability to speak and think was taken away from him momentarily, and that only made him a fool while he tried to explain. 

He wanted to get close to you, he yearned to do so, to tell you how he felt and the entire truth, but he was holding himself back just because he figured he wasn’t ready for all that yet. It was indeed eating Heeseung from the inside out. That explained the reason why Barcelona was doing the opposite of cheering up, everything there was much duller and depressing from his point of view.

“Are you okay?” Jeno's voice broke Heeseung out of his trance. He wasn't even aware he was zoning out. 

“Yeah, why?” Heeseung got up from his spot to join Jeno, figuring it's time to prepare for the race.

“Dude, you've been so out of it this whole weekend—no—whole week, actually. Practice rounds, qualifiers, you're not driving like you normally are, and you just don't seem like yourself,” Jeno patted Heeseung's back, and Heeseung himself had a whole new revelation thanks to Jeno's eye opening observations. Maybe it was also your lack of presence that bugged him. Heeseung hasn't seen you around the paddock the whole week, and neither did he bother asking Jake since their schedules were too full with interviews and what not.

“I'll try to tune myself back, don't worry,” Heeseung gave Jeno a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, offering a slight smile. “Thanks for checking up on me. I need to find someone real quick before I get to the track, you go without me first,”

That ‘someone’ Heeseung had in mind was none other than you.

Heeseung probably looked like an unhinged racer walking around trying to search for you. He stopped by the Mclaren hospitality, then the Mclaren garage, but none of them had you there. 

He could only sigh, having to be forced to end his search since the race was starting soon. Was it bad to admit that he couldn't really think straight at that moment? All he had on his mind was you and you and only you. 

Lee Heeseung was never once nervous for a race. But this time, he was. 

The start wasn't the best for him, and he was having an overall weak start. The usual red Ferrari car that was meant to be leading the race suddenly fell behind there in Barcelona. He had a feeling the commentators were about to point it out. 

Heeseung has experienced bad races before. Ones that didn't go his way, technical failures, DNFs, but this one was just a plain disaster. There was nothing wrong with his car, it was him. He couldn't wait to get out of the car now that he knew he wasn't getting on that podium.

What almost felt forever and countless rounds of driving, Heeseung ended up in seventh place. Not the worst, but obviously not his best. He didn't even want to engage in interviews after the race, going straight to his hospitality and changing back into his usual clothes. 

“That wasn't like you,” Jake, being the caring friend that he was, had paid Heeseung a visit right before he left. Just like the drivers had done, the first thing he brought up was Heeseung's performance.

“I know,” Heeseung hummed, shrugging it off. “Just caught up with some … stuff,”

Jake didn't say much either, nodding in understanding. “I'll be here if you need anything, just so you know,”

“I know,” Heeseung said again, this time with a smile, then his mind redirected to a question he has been itching to ask Jake all week. “Uh—don't mind if I ask, where's Y/N?”

“Oh, Y/N? She didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She took a whole week of sick leave,” 

“She's sick?”

“Well, she didn't say she's sick but she said she's not feeling well enough to work,” Jake scratched his head, oblivious to Heeseung's deepening frown. 

“So, she's still in Monaco? She didn't leave at all?”

“Nope. After last week, she's still there,”

“Oh,” Heeseung knew what to do now. All it took was a disaster of a race and a whole lot of sleepless nights to overcome his fear and confront you once and for all. “I should get going,”

“You're not going to join me and Dokyeom for dinner?” 

“Maybe next time,”

Heeseung was going to make things right. He wasn't going to run away again, nor repeat the stupidest thing which was pulling the avoidance card. He's finally going to be honest about his thoughts and feelings. 

Flight booked and leaving in an hour. A two hour flight for him to collect his thoughts and soon he'd be back in Monaco, just in time to knock on your door and make things right.

Heeseung had a one way flight ticket to Monte Carlo, a whole dialogue he prepared in his head, and a dream. It was going to be alright.

— MONTE CARLO, MONACO, 2023

Staying in bed and mulling around wasn't a part of your original plan.

You thought having this time to yourself was going to be spiritually and mentally cleansing, giving you enough space to get yourself together, but it was doing the opposite. 

To think that you're, in fact, being sad over a man was quite incredulous. But it was Heeseung, somehow or rather, he wasn't just a man. Curse him and his apartment next to yours, you couldn't stop thinking about him even though he wasn't there.

During the days you were at home, you thought it over, about Heeseung and your feelings for him, all of which returned to the same conclusion. You liked him, very much so, and you were hurting that he was physically ghosting you. The more you think about it the more you try to find solutions which end up failing. Thus, you were in a slump and merely survived by listening to Minjeong's pep talk over the phone.

“He'll turn up,” you remembered her saying, sounding so confident that you were somewhat surprised. She was actually confident in a man … that was a rare sight.

“How do you know?”

“It's Heeseung.”

It really was Heeseung. That was what you thought too when you heard your doorbell ringing, peeking through your peephole just to see his face. Was it the wrong timing to admit you've missed him?

There was no way you could be so heartless to not open the door, especially when you've been spending most of your time thinking about him and the possibilities of what he'd say. So, you opened the door, eyes meeting his much tired and saddened pair, a sense of familiarity ran through you. 

It was currently almost nine o'clock, the sky was dark and the streets were more quiet, but how in hell was Lee Heeseung standing in front of you when there was just a race hours ago? You were literally watching the race too, recalling Heeseung's off-putting performance that shocked everyone, including you.

“Heeseung?”

He seemed to have broken out of his trance, mouth opening just a little, trying to utter a single word but nothing came out. You raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, wishing he could say something, anything at this point.

“Do you like me?”

When you said you wish he could say something, this was the least expected one.

“What?”

Heeseung heaved a breath, looking slightly disappointed … at himself? He rubbed a hand on his face, frowning deeply. “Fuck—I swear I had a whole monologue for this, but I saw you and I just … couldn't think anymore,”

You gulped, the edge in his voice paired with his longing eyes made you shift your foot nervously. “Why are you here?” It didn't come out malicious or rageful, instead it sounded like defeat and tiredness, as if you've surrendered yourself. “Weren't you in Spain a few hours ago?”

“I figured we should have our talk,”

“Took you long enough,” you grumbled under your breath, a sour expression unknowingly pulled at your features. 

“I know, I'm sorry,”

You were silent for a moment, blinking furiously and formulating your words carefully. “You ran away from me, again, but you said you wouldn’t. You lied,”

“I know,” it came out as a bare whisper, emotions filled to the brim, regret and guilt evident in every letter. 

You didn't know what to say next, all the emotions trapped in you melted through your gaze, a mix of sadness, anger and desperation was calling out to Heeseung. His 'sorry' didn't make you feel better in any way either. If you had to be completely honest, you wanted to be mad, you wished to be angry at him and yell out every one of your frustrations that built up over the weeks, but it never happened.

“Heeseung, I don't really get you. What do you want from me?” you started, nearly pleadingly, backing up from the door as a way to tell him to come in, and thankfully, he got the signal. The door shut with a click of the lock, his figure approaching slowly. “One day you say you like me, we kissed, you proceeded to ignore me, then I saw you with girls at the party, and now you're asking if I like you? What am I supposed to do? Do you just secretly hate me or something?”

“What? No!” Heeseung scrunched his face up in confusion, but it soon dissolved into a look of helplessness, seeming equally awkward and stiff as you, both not knowing what to do. “God, I didn’t do anything with those girls, Yeonjun dragged me there and tried to set me up but I reciprocated nothing. You’re the one I want, Y/N,” there was a recognisable truth and honesty behind his voice, and you believed him. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I did some thinking—a lot, actually—and I'm a dumbass for ignoring you and running away after we kissed. But it's for a reason,”

“And that is …?”

Heeseung's shoulders sagged, sighing deeply. “I was scared you didn't like me,” he started, eyes flickering between you and the painting behind you, “—I know it sounds stupid but I just couldn't help but think about it. That night I told you how I felt … I thought it was fine when you didn't tell me an answer, yet it ate me up gradually after you said you were in love with me? But you were also drunk? You didn't say anything after and I didn't too,

“When we kissed, I wondered if you'd regret it, or that you didn't feel the way I did, I guess it got the worst of me so I chose to run before you could do anything,” he finally admitted the reasons behind his whole avoiding game, leaving you rather speechless in a way you couldn't comprehend. “It's stupid for me to do that, I know, that's why I'm here now, and I swear to you that I'm not going anywhere until we talk it out,”

You took in his words, trying your best to absorb it all, but his voice saying 'do you like me' was the only thing running through your mind.

‘Like’ would be an understatement when it came to your feelings for Heeseung. There were no limits, no boundaries whatsoever, nothing that just stopped at the word ‘like’. You felt for him, in a way that was indescribable and deeper than you've ever experienced before.

“I want you, Y/N, but I want you to want me too, that's what I want from you. I know you're mad and I get it—”

“I like you too,” the confession flowed out much more naturally than you had anticipated it to be. It was a part of you that you've held onto for so long, and finally, you're able to let it go, telling Heeseung your true feelings.

Heeseung blinked, mouth slightly ajar. “W–what?”

“I like you, Heeseung, a lot.” It took more than just mental strength for you to come to terms and admit it aloud, but you weren’t regretting a single thing either way, finally feeling the heavy weight being lifted off your chest. “I like you and your obsession with ramen, the way you smile or laugh, or how your nose crinkles everytime you laugh. I like every part of you, I–I think I might be in love with you,”

Heeseung could see the nervousness coming off you, your voice already shaking a little. He wanted to just rush towards you and pull you into his arms, but it wasn’t the best idea considering the situation. So, he stayed rooted to the ground, his gaze turning softer as seconds ticked by.

“I want you, more than you could ever think or fathom. I always did. I'm sorry I didn't make it clear in the beginning when you told me. I was still figuring all of it out and how I felt, so I just … froze. Then drunk me decided to tell you what I was scared to admit, but all of it was true—the things I said—so there's that,” you tried putting on a smile, but it wasn't much either. “When we kissed, I didn't regret it, not one bit and never would I ever think that. You mean a lot to me, Hee, and I'm sorry I didn't make you feel that way but I really, really like you, and I wish I had told you sooner,”

Heeseung was silent for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed and he had an unreliable expression that made you unnerved. However, it all melted away in the second, the corners of his lips were pulled up into a small smile, a certain reassurance hidden behind it. You felt balance and peace being restored gradually. “Are you kidding? You do make me feel that way. You don't understand how insane you get me every time. Y/N, you could get me to drop anything and anywhere if you want, even if it's in the middle of a race I'm leading. You make me feel more than you know of it,”

It was one of those times where everything felt like a movie. Heeseung professing his love for you in the middle of your living room was the last you’d come to conclusions, and it was surreal to think about. He had already shown you his devotion by showing up at your doorstep, there was obviously no doubt in what he said.

“I’ll be honest,” you began, chewing on your lips at the thought, “I'm still a little mad at you for doing what you did though,” you admitted rather pettily, crossing your arms and staring pointedly at him. “I can't believe you'd think I don't like you when I literally kissed you back,”

Heeseung was relieved that the mood was lightened a bit more, being able to crack a smile and chuckle quietly. “I panicked. I was scared of ruining everything we had,”

You couldn’t help but frown, mainly out of the solemnity his words carried. Heeseung didn’t want to ruin the connection you and he had, choosing to carry the burden that ended up hurting the two of you. “I get it, I wasn't any better too for being so vague. I accept your apology, and I'm sorry too,”

“Apology accepted,” Heeseung started approaching you, taking strides across the space separating you two until he was directly in front of you, looking vulnerable and bare, laying his heart out just for you. “So … we're cool then?”

“Yeah, we're cool,” you nodded much faster than you thought, showing off an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm that you didn’t hold back, “but …”

He was intrigued, wondering what he was getting into. “But?”

“I don't want us to go back to being just friends,”

Heeseung paused, opening his mouth just to shut it again, the confusion turned into amusement, his grin widening. “I'd be crazy to come all the way just to friendzone you,” he shook his head, “We've done the dates, practically said what we wanted to say, all that's left now is …” 

You knew what he was intending, and so did he. He has an eyebrow raised, one corner of his lips curved into a lopsided smirk. “So … what do you say? Can I be yours?”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped closer to him daringly, closing the distance between one another. There was a beat of silence, the only sound filling the air was your breathing and his shaky breaths. Then, you decided to do the craziest thing.

“I thought you'd never ask,” those were the last words uttered from your mouth when you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips onto his. You could feel Heeseung freeze under your touch, but it didn’t long for him to calm his nerves and relax, melting further into the kiss and letting his hands roam to your face and waist.

This was nothing like the first kiss you shared with Heeseung. It was something much more than that. There was a sense of urgency that you and him both knew and acknowledged. An overwhelming amount of longing and desire was finally conveyed through the kiss, telling you what you needed to know from the way Heeseung tilted his head to deepen the kiss, smiling against your lips after. 

Fireworks exploded internally, your mind was blank, the only thing in your head was the thought of him and the feeling of his lips. It was a new feeling, his lips moving against yours was almost like a fitted puzzle piece, too perfect and incomparable. It was a feeling you craved to have forever.

Before anything could advance further, you pulled away slowly, catching your breath in meantime. Looking at Heeseung, he was already staring at you, eyes filled with love and admiration. It was just silence, but you were basking in it, relishing the moment and his presence.

Heeseung leaned down to peck your lips, then again, and again on both sides of your cheeks, nose, forehead, and back to your lips once more. “I like you so much, more than the feeling of my cold pillow, or ramen, o–or even winning a race,”

All it took was one look at your face and seeing your smile to have Heeseung's nervousness disappear, replaced with a love filled smile that resembled the glow of the golden hour. A kiss from you was enough of a response, expressing your feelings more than words were capable of, whispering cheesy compliments to each other in an attempt to get one of you to laugh. 

“I guess I can say I'm a champion now?” Heeseung held you in his arms, his gaze holding yours. 

“Not quite,” 

“I finally got the girl I'm in love with. I consider myself as a champion, actually,” you were trying not to show how flustered you really were when he said he's in love with you aloud, catching you off guard for a second.

“You're never not going to be cheesy, aren't you?” 

“Never,” Heeseung gave your waist a squeeze, admiring the way you laughed along with the crinkles of the corner of your eyes. “I'll win the championship for you too,” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “For me? Shouldn't it be for yourself?”

Heeseung hummed, pursing his lips a little. “I never really had someone other than my family to dedicate it to, and I want you to be that someone, my someone,” 

Eyes rolling but that smile on your face gave it all away. “Well, I can't wait for you to win it, Mr World Champion … my world champion.” 

Never in a million years would you expect yourself to be cheesily flirting with an F1 driver, but here you were. There was one thing that Heeseung made you feel for the first time in years, and that was love, irrevocable love that you would never trade anything for.

— ABU DHABI, UAE, 2023

It has finally reached the last race of the season. 

Everyone in the stands, paddock and garage alike were all nervously moving around. Some anticipating the outcome, others betting money on it, the ones working in the garage were holding their breaths. 

There were still a few hours left to lights out and you were giving your usual pep talk to Jake, except this time it was a little more harsher. Being third in the championship leaderboard, you were immensely proud of his achievements, and you were encouraging him to give it one last shot. He gave you a salute before walking away to discuss some last minute strategies with his teammate, so you took it as a chance to slip away under Jake's nose to find Heeseung.

Jake was rather oblivious about you and Heeseung, but to be fair, everyone was, maybe except Minjeong who definitely screamed into your ear when you told her everything. 

Sneaking into Heeseung's hospitality has been one of your greatest skills over the past few weeks. You go in greeting the staff all friendly, pretending to be looking for a friend working there (which wasn't completely a lie) then you proceed to slip into his room. It was a day like before, but this time, Heeseung was already waiting by the door, and the moment you walked in, barely closing the door, he had you in his arms and lifted off your feet. 

“Heeseung” You squealed at the sudden approach, his spin only making you kick your feet in the air, your hand hitting his back.

“Hey, pretty,” he set you down back on the ground, a playful grin drawn on his face, arm still looped around your waist. “Missed you—” he brushed his nose against yours, giving you a small peck that left you blushing, “—like crazy”

“Hee, I saw you physically two days ago,” you rubbed his back, letting him press gentle kisses on every part of your face. 

“That's still a long time,”

You snorted at his never changing dramatic response, pinching his shoulder and he pouted at you like a wronged puppy. “Last race, you think you got it?”

“‘You think’? I know I do,” typical Heeseung, full of confidence and carrying himself with pride, you were to know by now to not doubt him. “I win this—all of this—will you let me ask you to be mine? Officially?”

Your gaze softened, your hand on his shoulder tightened a little, offering him a warm smile for more assurance. “It doesn't matter when or where you ask me, whatever the circumstances are, you already know my answer to it whether or not you win,”

Heeseung tugged you closer to him, your front basically pressed against his, only a few mere inches distanced you and him apart. “I know,”

“I’ll wait then,” your hand rested on his chest, your smile telling him there was nothing to worry about. “I’ll wait for the exact moment you cross the finish line and win it all,”

“Trust me, I'm going to.”

Situated in the Mclaren garage, you held your breath watching the fight between Heeseung and Jungkook for first place. Jungkook from Mercedes was second on the championship leaderboard, points only a fraction away from Heeseung, causing a tension-filled season of rivalry. For the last race, they were soon going to end it once and for all, concluding a winner of the season, explaining your sweaty forehead thanks to the nerves.

“Okay, Heeseung or Jungkook,” Chaewon brought up out of the blue when there were five laps left, Heeseung still leading but Jungkook occasionally giving many heart attacks by closing in.

“Heeseung,” you and Sakura both said in unison, clapping in excitement knowing you had the same picks. 

“Boo, I’m team Jungkook,” Chaewon frowned, watching Heeseung and Jungkook’s gap widening. 

“You’re kidding,” Sakura nudged Chaewon in surprise, whereas you kept quiet, a raised eyebrow being your response.

“Jungkook’s hot and beefy and tall, he’s also tattooed, you know?” Chaewon was practically drooling, dazedly starstruck. “Plus, he’s super nice and can drive,”

“Heeseung’s the same too,” you were quick to defend your man, though toning it down a bit to not come off too aggressive or suspicious. “Well … except the tattooed, beefy part,”

“That’s two points deducted,”

“It’s two against one so Heeseung won,” Sakura ended the debate, pointing at the screen to divert Chaewon’s attention. “He’s basically winning too,”

He really was. One lap left and he was inching closer to the finish line. The clock was ticking, your blood was thrumming, the shouts coming from people around you were tuned out. Your sole focus was trained on his red Ferrari car, the finish coming in view. One second passed, two seconds, three seconds, four …

“LEE HEESEUNG IS A FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION!”

Claps and shouts of congratulations rang throughout the garage for Heeseung. The Mclaren duo had come in third and fifth places individually, heightening the atmosphere to great heights at the news of grand results as an end to the season. You were on your feet, hugging both Sakura and Chaewon, them being unbeknownst to your actual elation.

All of you rushed out of the garage, managing to squeeze past the reporters and their cameras to the front of the barricade, seeing the top three drivers getting out of their cars. Jungkook who came in second congratulated Heeseung, but Chaewon’s fangirling beside you mostly distracted you. What can you say, her devotion to Jungkook was understandable in some ways. 

It was then you caught Heeseung’s eyes in the midst of everything. Sweat covered his face and drenched his hair, but it only made him glow under the night sky and bright lights. You didn’t even have the time to process it all. He was taking big strides towards you, not giving a care if every pair of eyes were on him, all he had on his mind was you. 

You opened your mouth to congratulate him as he approached you, but before you could say anything, he had already pressed his lips onto yours the moment he was in front of you. 

Gasps and the clicking sound of cameras were heard, yet you gathered everything in you to shut your eyes and kissed him back. Kissing him wasn't hard, it was natural, far too natural like it was an instinct. His lips moved against yours gently, loving and pouring out his overflowing want for you.

All heads were turned over to gawk at you and Heeseung. It was hard to ignore the burning stares and flashes of camera lights, so you pulled away from him (reluctantly) to save yourself from being plastered everywhere on the media, which seemed a bit too late by now.

“Let me be your boyfriend?” He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to catch on and flash him one of his favourite smiles. 

Hard to hide your excitement and happiness, you nodded feverishly, the corners of your lips were pulled upwards. “Yes,” you pressed a swift kiss on his lips, your face burning to the brim, completely the opposite of Heeseung who managed to maintain his composure.

“My beautiful girl, what should we do now?” Heeseung cheekily commented, talking as if he wasn't standing right in front of a huge crowd right after winning another world championship. He knew damn well he had to get onto the podium and celebrate like there's no tomorrow.

“Well, my world champion boyfriend, as much as I wish to hoard you, you should go celebrate already,”

He leaned in close to you, whispering into your ear. “I'll let you hoard me all you want after,” shooting you a wink, he waved goodbye and left, disappearing into a crowd of people and leaving you flustered along with your dumbfounded colleagues.

“What was … that?” Chaewon slowly turned to look at you.

“Oh my God, you're dating Lee?” Sakura gasped for maybe the hundredth time already. “Okay, that's probably why he's a winner, huh? Because he has Mrs Lee here—”

“YOU'RE WITH HEESEUNG?” 

Shit.

Jake came into view, strands of hair stuck to his face didn't help his distress look either. No doubt, confusion was written all over his face, a raised eyebrow that was expecting an answer from you.

“Jake! Podium!” One of the staff shouted over at him. He, who placed third, didn't seem like he wanted it now that he has something else to uncover.

“You owe me an explanation.” Jake wasn't angry at all, he just looked thoroughly confused at the fact that one of his best friends was with his … cousin? Slash trainer, slash assistant, you get the gist. But at the same time, he also had that 'I knew it' shit-eating grin plastered on his face that you were very familiar with, he probably knew it was coming, didn't he?

Jake was eventually pushed to the back of your mind for the time being, mentally taking notes to deal with him after, but for now, the celebration was the crucial part of the night.

Watching Jake on that podium made you emotional, you couldn't lie. It reminded you of the many times you've seen him win at tournaments, and now, at F1 races, which was absolutely surreal. 

Gazing up at the stage where the podium was, your eyes followed Heeseung's figure appearing, and listened to his name being called on the speakers, the title of world champion belonging to him. He stood high and proud on the podium, eyes searching for someone in the crowd. Turns out, it was you he was looking for.

He mouthed your name the moment he locked eyes with yours, face visibly beaming like a star in the night. 'For you' was what came from his lips next, his finger pointing at the trophy in his hand then back at you. He was dedicating it to you, just as he said.

The smile on your face was evident to everyone how whipped you were for him, even giggling as you waved at him. Heeseung, being the person that he was, blew a flying kiss at you right before the national anthem played, and you were stuck there in shock. At this point, you should be prepared for things like that.

The night eventually rolled into the early morning. Heeseung was back at the hotel with you, secretly hiding out in your room while everyone else was mostly still out partying. It was just the two of you, on your bed with some room service as snacks.

“Shouldn't you go party with them instead of being stuck here with me?” You shoved a french fry into your mouth, not regretting your choice of returning early from the party to have a mini one on your own, plus Heeseung as an addition.

“I would rather be stuck here with you than with them,” Heeseung leaned onto your side, face obnoxiously getting closer, “You know I'll always choose you,” 

Even under the dim lights, you could make out the sparks hidden behind his stare. “You're my girl after all,” he added, ever so smoothly throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Isn't that crazy? You're my girl, my girl!” He dramatically gasped, feigning disbelief that you were, in fact, his.

“Yes, I am your girl, you idiot,” you reached to pinch his nose, and his face scrunched up, the biggest smile appearing on his face. Before you could retreat your hand, he had already grabbed onto it, fingers eventually making contact with yours and intertwined. “What are you doing?” It was a small whisper, curious and anticipating.

“This—” one pull of his hand, he yanked onto yours and pulled you into him, catching your face gently and pressing his lips onto yours. 

The only way to describe your thoughts was insanity. His small stunt had left you fighting for yourself internally, blood pulsing and heart skipping. He was the death of you.

You pushed him away after a few moments, having to catch your breath, but mostly to regain your composure. “Oh my God,” you breathed out, neither of you looking away from each other. “You're … wow,”

“Too cliche?”

“Is it bad if I admit I eat it up every time?”

“I don't have any more up my sleeves, I'm afraid,” he laughed, joking light-heartedly, turning his  head slightly to the side. “Can I have one more?”

“One more?” You hummed, fingers rubbing your chin in thought, continuously teasing him. “Why should I?”

“I asked nicely,” he poked at his cheek expectantly, lips jutting out in a pout. “Please?”

Only you could have Heeseung act this way. The reigning Formula One champion, could you believe that?

You didn't say anything, leaning in and pressed a peck on the spot he pointed out on his cheek. A satisfied smirk told you everything you needed to know, his hold on your hand tightening. “I'm in love with you,” he confessed, a spur of the moment kind of confession that you were already aware of, but to hear him say it again got your heart skipping in ways you didn't know. “I'm basically the luckiest man in the world right now,”

“Shouldn't I be the lucky one too?” You nudged at his ribs softly, unable to contain your laugh. “I'm lucky to have you with me, like super lucky,”

Heeseung crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows with a pinch of amusement. “Really?”

“Really. I get to have good ramen whenever I want,” you grinned foolishly at him, seeing his face morphed into a look of disbelief. You shook your head, stifling your laughter at his reaction. “But I like you more than your home cooked ramen,”

Warmth spread over his expression, a soft glow to his features under the light brought out the way he stared at you, irises written with words he couldn't convey with his mouth. He was undeniably head over heels, it was already clear from the look of his eyes, they never lie.

“I don't think Chaewon's coming back tonight, she'll probably crash in Sakura's room,” you gave his hand a light squeeze, glancing over at the clock for a split second, it was already past two. “Can you stay?”

Heeseung's expressions were filled with love and affection, a softness to them that he only had with you. You already knew his answer before he had to say it out loud. “I'll stay. You know I'll always do.”

Somehow, you knew his simple promise for the night carried something more to it. It wasn't just a promise that lasted for a night, it was for a lifetime ahead of you. Because you knew, no matter what, he would always stay. 

From the front door of your apartment to a random hotel room in Abu Dhabi almost a year later, it was crazy to think that a Formula One world champion had scored his biggest win yet: the girl next door, his oblivious neighbour that wasn't even aware of him or his popularity in the first place.

Turns out, meeting his oblivious neighbour was one of his greatest moments in life ever, because now, Lee Heeseung might not know what to do without you. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[darylmydix]

THE SCARS WE SHARE | daryl dixon – 001

summary: you were the only good thing daryl had in his life. bonded by similar trauma, you suffered abuse at the hands of your stepmother, just as daryl had suffered from his own father. when you finally decide to escape your abusive home life, you're forced to leave behind your best friend in the process. now with the world in an apocalyptic state, you're left wondering if daryl was even alive.

pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, unrequited love, best friends to lovers, mentions of s/a, mentions of abuse, mention of suicidal thoughts/attempts, mention of drug use, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, slow burn, strong language, kidnapping, coercion, seasons 5-11, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 1.7k

Warm water trickles your skin, washing away your filth. Physically you weren’t dirty, but subconsciously you felt that way; you’re curled up in the fetal position on the bathtub floor, as still as a frightened rabbit. Your body felt numb, and you envisioned yourself anywhere but where you were now.

You had been laying in this position for about 20 minutes now. You knew eventually you’d have to get up. You didn’t want the wrath of your stepmother banging on the door shouting about how you were running up the water bill.

You finally find your strength to get up, turning off the water. You sit for a few more minutes in silence. It was quiet in the house. You figured your stepmother had gone to bed. You grab your towel from atop of the toilet tank, standing up to wrap it around your body.

You step onto the shaggy rug outside of the tub, drying your feet off. Last thing you wanted to hear was complaints about how you left the floor wet. Your stepmom would bitch about anything if she could.

You open the door, peeking your head out to make sure she wasn’t walking around the hallway. It was radio silence, and dark. You shuffle down to your bedroom, your feet pattering against the hardwood floors. You notice your stepmother’s bedroom door was closed, officially confirming that she was indeed asleep.

You softly close your bedroom door behind you, letting out a meek sigh. You dry yourself off, quickly trying to change so you could head out for the night. You needed the fresh air. You felt suffocated the longer you stayed in here. You grab your set of house keys from your nightstand, leaving back out of your bedroom. You tiptoe past your stepmom’s room, making your way into the living room.

You slipped on your shoes that were sitting by the front door, and you were almost home free until you heard her voice. “Going somewhere?” You jump in surprise, the lights suddenly flicked on to reveal your stepmother sitting at the dining room table. She’s sitting with a bottle of tequila on the table, the glass she was drinking it from in her hands. She was drunk to all hell.

“I’m– I’m just going for a walk…” You stutter, timidly. She scoffs. “Don’t lie to me. You’re going to those trailer parks to see that hillbilly Dixon boy, aren’t you?” You don’t respond, and she snickers. “Those boys ain’t nothin’ but trouble. I don’t see why you even go over there. What’re you doing? Letting them run a train on you?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, holding back your tears. “I’m just going for a walk.” You repeat, opening your front door to leave. “Make sure you get your money's worth, you slut!” She shouts. You slam the door behind you, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

You stuff your hands in the pockets of your sweater as you make your way to the trailer parks. It wasn’t too far from where you lived, probably like a 20 minute walk if you had to estimate it.

Your best friend Daryl Dixon, who you were on your way to see, used to live a couple blocks down from you. That was before the house fire that claimed the life of his mother happened. Now he, his older brother Merle, and their father Will were living in a shaggy trailer park neighborhood.

“Right where they belonged” your stepmother would say. You make it to the trailer parks, walking through until you get to the Dixon residence. You notice their lights were on, meaning they were likely awake. As you readied yourself to walk up the stairs, the sound of a loud crash makes you freeze. “You ever talk to me like that again, boy, I’ll make you wish you died in that fire too. Ya hear me?!”

Will Dixon could be heard yelling from inside. A pretty normal occurrence for the Dixon home. “Man, get off me!” You hear Daryl shout back, his heavy southern accent easy to distinguish. “You leave out that door boy, you can sleep out there tonight.”

“Like I give a damn!” The door is suddenly ripped open, and Daryl steps outside, slamming it close behind him. The brunette pauses as he sees you at the end of the stairs, staring up at him. He’s quiet for a moment. “You heard all that?” He asks, coming down the steps towards you.

“Just the end of it.” You say. You notice there’s a cut on his lower lip. Your eyebrows knit together in concern as you reach up, letting your thumb gently brush over the wound. “Your lip’s busted.” You frown. Daryl winced, moving his head back from your touch.

“To hell with it.” He mutters. “Whad’ya doin’ here?”

Your head tips to the side slightly, and you give him a small smile. “I’m always here.”

You and Daryl sat without a word, your backs rested up against a southern magnolia tree in the woods. This was a spot you two always went when you wanted to get away from everything. It usually involves you both in silence listening to wildlife. You didn’t mind it. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words anyway. Hasn’t been since his mom’s death. Regardless of if you guys did talk or not, you were just happy to be in his presence.

“Merle’s in jail.” He disrupts the silence, picking a stick off the ground before he begins to break it apart piece by piece. Merle was always in jail so that didn’t surprise you one bit.

Both the Dixon boys weren’t strangers when it came to trouble, but Merle was the worst of the two. Anytime Daryl caught himself in any trouble with the law it came from dumb shit Merle dragged him into.

You truly couldn’t stand Merle, but you could never tell that to Daryl. His loyalty to his older brother was impeccable. You hope one day he could get out of that phase and come to the realization that Merle wasn’t good for him.

“What did he do this time?” You ask, not really needing to as you could guess that it probably involved him assaulting someone. He wasn’t exactly a people person. “He beat the hell outta some guy in a bar.”

‘Bingo. Right on the mark.’

“That brother of yours isn’t gonna be satisfied until he’s locked in there for life.” You mumbled. Daryl shoots you a look. “What? You can’t just go around beating people up without consequences. That’s not how the world works.”

“Asshole probably deserved it.” He murmured, chucking the stick. You roll your eyes, deciding not to push the subject any further. You hear Daryl wince, and you look over to see him messing around with the cut on his lip.

You dig in the pockets of your sweater in search of something you could wipe the blood off with. Great forces are on your side as you pull out an alcohol prep wipe. You often carried them around for moments like these. This isn’t the first time you’ve cleaned up a wound left on Daryl by his father, or even a wound on yourself.

You rip open the package before gently grabbing the brunette’s face to make him look over at you. “Hold still.” You say, placing the wipe on his open wound. He winces again, trying to move his head back but you don’t let him. “Oh cut it out you big baby, it’s not that bad. You don’t want it to get infected, do you?”

Daryl grumbles, but sits still to let you work. It’s quiet as you do, nothing but the sound of an owl hooting. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on you, and your focus shifts from his lip to his blue hues. “What?”

“That come from her?” He questions, nodding his head to the choke bruise on your neck. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before. You swallow a lump that was beginning to well up at the back of your throat and shake your head. “She had another guy come by today. This one was into choking…”

Daryl’s jaw clenched in anger. Every time he heard about the men your stepmother invited over he just wanted to go there himself to rid you of the burden once and for all. But he didn’t want to put you in a worse situation than you already were in. “You don’t deserve what she’s doin’ to you.”

“Neither do you.” You remark. “But that’s just our reality.”

“Don’t have to be.” He declared. You pull the wipe from his lip, deciding it was clean enough. You ball it up, tossing it wherever on the ground. “Done.” You smile faintly, moving on from the topic. You didn’t want to think about it right now. “S’gettin’ late,” he comments. “Want me to walk you back home?” He offers.

“What’re you gonna do?” You remember his dad telling him not to come back. You’d think that he truly didn’t mean that but even you knew that Will made sure there was no way Daryl could get back inside the house tonight. “I’ma come back here to sleep. Ain’t the first time my old man’s kicked me out. Damn sure ain’t gonna be the last.”

You nod. “Then it looks like I’m staying.” You insist, settling against the tree. Daryl shakes his head. “I don’t need you to-”

“Shut up.” You cut him off before he could argue. “I’m staying.” You lean your head against the tree, your eyes closing. Daryl stares at you for a moment. Your stubbornness amazed him sometimes. It was worse than his own, but he knew he couldn’t fight you when you made up your mind on something.

“Fine.” He says, settling against the tree along with you. You scoot a bit closer to the brunette, letting your head fall on his shoulder. He tenses a bit, but calms his nerves. His body relaxes underneath you.

“Hey.” Daryl mutters, unsure if you’re awake or fast asleep already. You hum in response. “You really ain’t gotta be here.” He tries once more to change your mind. You smile.

“I’m always here.”

Taglist:

@daryldixmedown, @supernaturalstilinski, @vampiresluv, @myassisasolarsystem

[colonelarr0w]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

A/N - Ooh, you know I love me some angst. And considering that it's actually prom season right now, this makes this fic that much more personal to me (I don't have a date LMAO).

The Other Woman

Preview - "The fuck was so great about Uruame anyway? Maybe it was her intelligence, maybe it was her athleticism. Or maybe, just maybe, it was her ability to interact with Sukuna without stumbling over every other word."

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, mention of violence (Sukuna will be Sukuna)

Word Count - 4.3k

It was April now. 

The season where girls compared prom dresses and guys anxiously put together their extravagant plans to ask the girl of their dreams to prom. It was the season that also revealed who was romantically interested in who — the couples that were thought to have been endgame break up juust before prom season, and if luck was truly a real thing, two people that nobody thought were romantically interested in the other were suddenly sucking face in the hallway.  

And even though you had been saying since the beginning of the school year that you likely were not going to attend prom … 

 … you found yourself standing in a dress shop with Nobara and Maki, both of whom were dressing you in flashy colors and, quite frankly, expensive dresses. 

“You’re kidding! Of course you’re going to prom, we’re not going without you,” Nobara comments, her tone offended as if you had told her that her shirt didn’t match her pants. Maki crosses her arms over her chest, agreeing wholeheartedly with the brunette at her side.  

“Come on Nobara, it’s not like it’s gonna be worth it. You both have dates,” you point out, taking a sip from your water bottle and sending both of your friends knowing looks.  

“And? You can go with Yuuji, you’ve both been conjoined at the hip since grade school,” Maki retaliates with a raise of her eyebrow. Nobara nods in agreement.  

“First of all, I’m not taking my guy best friend to prom. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea,” you begin, holding up your hand and using your fingers as an imaginary list. “And second, I kind of want someone to ask me that is … y’know … romantically interested in me.” 

Nobara claps her hands together as the curtain of your dressing room is yanked to the side, her smile widening impossibly further as she silently commands you to spin. You comply, turning in a circle in the royal blue dress that she had forced you into.  

“I don’t know,” you say for the umpteenth time. Nobara deflates in her seat, turning her head to Maki in the hopes that maybe she would say something to convince you. But the green-haired girl doesn’t say anything, because in a way she understands.  

“Come on (Y/N). Help us out here,” Nobara all but begs you, standing from her chair and walking over to you. She turns you in the direction of the full-body mirror in front of you, her hands affectionately squeezing her shoulders. “What color do you want to wear? Let’s start there.” 

“I don’t even want to go Nobara,” you retaliate, meeting her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. She sighs again, dramatically letting go of you and sulking once she returns to her seat.  

Maki rolls her eyes, finally walking over to you and glancing at you through the mirror. “Here, instead of color, who do you want to go to prom with?” 

You freeze, already feeling your cheeks heat as your eyes flicker to momentarily meet Maki’s in the reflection.  

“D’you think Sukuna is actually going to prom?” you ask Yuuji, stealing a chip from the bag that he holds and grinning to yourself as he silently shifts to ensure that you won’t steal another. He lifts his legs, crossing his ankles over one another as he hums in thought.  

“I think he might’ve mentioned it. But you know him,” Yuuji pauses to eat another chip, “he’s not really one for those kinds of parties, y’know?” 

You nod, but at the same time you can feel your heart sinking. Was it really a secret that you had a crush on the older brother of your childhood best friend? Honestly … no. But everyone but Sukuna knew (obviously), and yet nobody had really tried anything to help push you together.  

Maybe that was because of his reputation, or maybe it was because your friends were trying to “protect” you from someone that you really didn’t need to be shielded from.  

“Actually, now that you mention it,” Yuuji turns to you, crumpling up the now empty chip bag and tossing it into the garbage bin just a few feet in front of the two of you. “I think he mentioned asking Uruame to prom.” 

You fall silent, nodding your head. “Mm … right.” 

“I don’t know,” you answer again, shrugging your shoulders and already moving back towards the dressing room. You rip open the curtain, stepping inside and sighing. You lift your hands, rubbing them over your face as Yuuji’s words replay like a broken record in your head.  

The fuck was so great about Uruame anyway? 

Maybe it was her intelligence, maybe it was her athleticism. Or maybe, just maybe, it was her ability to interact with Sukuna without stumbling over every other word.  

You glance upward at the small mirror in the dressing room, already reaching behind you to unzip the dress. You step out of it, returning it to its hanger before emerging again from the dressing room. Nobara and Maki glance up at you, having expected you to be wearing another dress. 

“I think I’m done for today, if anything, I’ll just wear an old dress,” you say nonchalantly, trying to hide the waver that had started to creep into your tone. Maki nods understandingly, but Nobara rises to her feet and promptly places both hands on her hips.  

“(Y/N),” she says sternly, stomping over to you and grabbing both of your hands into her own. “We are going to find you a perfect fucking dress, you are going to have a perfect fucking time at prom, and we are going to all go together because fuck men.” 

Maki sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. "Nobara-" she begins, but her words are quickly cut off by a dismissive wave of Nobara's hand.  

"Now come on," Nobara places her palms flat against the backs of your shoulders, pushing you back towards the dressing room and turning to get the attention of the consultant who had been helping the three of you. "We're finding you a dress, and it's gonna be perfect." 

< ... > 

"Here brat, got you those fuckin' chips that you won't shut up about," Sukuna rolls his eyes as he closes the front door. He turns towards the couch, promptly throwing a bag of chips at Yuuji's face. You bite back the chuckle that claws up your throat as Yuuji yells out in surprise, pressing his palms against his face.  

"The hell?! Uncalled for!" Yuuji whips his head around to send a glare to his older brother, the latter of whom only shrugs before turning his attention to you.  

"Here, got you somethin' too," he says gruffly, clearing his throat as he rummages through the white plastic bag that he's slung over his arm. From it he removes a bag of candy that you had mentioned liking, which he hands to you. 

"Oh, thanks Sukuna!" You turn to smile at him as you take it, fingers momentarily brushing against his own. The contact brings a gentle pink hue to your cheeks, though his face remains stoic as ever – completely unreadable. As he usually was.  

Sukuna only grunts in response to your thanks, then turning on his heel and promptly vanishing into his room. You return your attention to the movie that Yuuji had put on, noticing him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. 

"What?" 

"Do you … shit (Y/N) … do you like my brother?"  

You cough, Yuuji's question catching you completely off of your guard. You whip your head to face him, cheeks heating at the knowing smile that your best friend wears. He abandons his chips, already rising to his feet.  

Shit. 

You spring up from your place on the couch, already diving for Yuuji. Your arms lock around his waist, knocking both him and yourself to the ground. "Don't you fucking dare." 

The pink-haired boy merely laughs in response, opening his mouth to yell. You yelp, pressing both of your palms against his lips and pressing down hard. He winces, but his eyes are still crinkled in that bright little shit-eating grin that continues to remind you just how fucked you were.  

You stare down at him, eyes as cold as ice. "Say a word and I'll kill you." 

Yuuji only rolls his eyes, but that shit-eating grin never once fades from his face.  

< ... > 

"See! I told you that we would find the perfect dress!" Nobara says proudly, hands on her hips as she admires you from behind. Her eyes meet yours in the reflection of your bedroom's mirror, lips turned upward in a smile.  

You had to admit, the dress was absolutely gorgeous. It was (Y/F/C) with gentle highlights and trimmings that fit around both your chest and waist. The center of the dress was corseted, accentuating your figure; and the train of the dress was long enough to flow behind you, but not long enough that you would trip over it.  

You turn your body around in the mirror, admiring the lace-up back of the dress. For the first time in a very long time, you felt pretty.  

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll admit … it is very pretty." You bite back a chuckle as Nobara claps her hands together, giddily turning to Maki and waiting for the green-haired girl to verbally approve as well.  

"You do look amazing (Y/N)," Maki nods in agreement, her compliment bringing a gentle smile to your face. Nobara nods her head frantically, turning back to you and grinning again as her eyes rake up and down your figure.  

The three of you pause at the sound of your front door opening and closing, followed then by your mother happily greeting whoever it was that had turned up on your doorstep. Nobara shoots you a confused look, one that you respond to with a confused look of your own.  

"(Y/N)! Yuuji's here!"  

You sigh, lifting your fingers to your nose and pinching at the bridge of your nose. You had completely forgotten that you had agreed to go to the arcade with Yuuji, and now here you were, standing in a prom dress even after you had told him countless times that you simply weren't going.  

Nobara and Maki exchange glances, but neither of them say anything to you or each other.  

"Okay! You can let him upstairs!"  

The sound of foosteps approaching your door already has your blood running cold, but the expression that Yuuji wears when he opens your bedroom door makes it somehow colder.  

"Oh wow (Y/N)! You look great! But I thought you said that you weren't coming to prom?" Yuuji points out, tilting his head curiously at you as he angles himself to close the door behind him. He glances then at both Nobara and Maki, neither girl answering him, leaving it completely up to you.  

You clear your throat, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as you turn to face Yuuji completely. "Yeah … I know. Nobara kind of convinced me." 

"Well, that's good!" Yuuji smiles sweetly, already moving towards your desk chair and flopping down into it. "Are you going with anyone?" 

You remain silent – and that's when Nobara decides to step in, noticing the uncomfortable expression that you wear at Yuuji's question.  

"She's coming with me and Maki," she answers. You nod, clearing your throat as you turn to Yuuji, half-expecting him to furrow his eyebrows at you. But luckily, he smiles at Nobara's response, nodding his head and deciding not to breach the subject any further.  

< … > 

"There you are, where's the brat?" Sukuna asks as he approaches you, leaning against the locker beside your own. You chuckle lightly at him, tilting your head to glance up at him – oddly enough, he was already staring at you.  

"Yuuji? I think he's just finishing up with the Occult Club," you answer, removing your biology textbook from your locker before pushing the metal door shut. Sukuna hums, crossing his arms and tilting his head away from you.  

He looks like he wants to say something, but is conflicted on whether or not he should actually say it. You study him for a second, opening your mouth to say something.  

"There you both are! I'm ready to go home now," Yuuji says brightly, waving at both you and Sukuna from halfway down the hallway. He extends his hand to you, the both of you performing the handshake that you had perfected sometime during middle school. Sukuna rolls his eyes at the both of you, kicking off of the lockers and already swinging his keys on his index finger.  

"Took you long enough," Sukuna comments with a harsh roll of his eyes, though you don't fail to notice the small smirk that tugs at the corner of Sukuna's mouth. "C'mon, let's get out of here." 

Yuuji nods, linking his arm with your own and lightly tugging you towards the school's exit. He grins at you as you stumble on your feet, letting out a small "Yuuji!" at his antics. Sukuna only shakes his head, following behind the both of you – keeping his distance.  

"So, (Y/N), anyone asked you to prom yet?" Yuuji asks, his voice loud enough for Sukuna to hear behind him. You stand rigid in your best friend's hold, eyes flickering to his own. "Surely a girl like you got asked, right? With a big bouquet of flowers and--" 

"Yuuji, stop," you say harshly, voice venomous as you push yourself out of Yuuji's arms. He glances at you, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He opens his mouth to say something, but you hold a hand up, effectively cutting him off.  

"I'm not going to prom with anyone because the person I wanted to go with is interested in someone else, okay? Is that what you wanted to fucking hear?" You lift a hand to wipe at your suddenly teary eyes, sighing to yourself and shaking your head.  

"(Y/N), that's not what I--" 

"Forget it. I'm just gonna take the bus home," you murmur to yourself, turning and walking straight past Sukuna, not even turning to apologize when your shoulder knocks against his own. His eyes follow you, narrowed in both confusion and irritation. Even so, he makes no move to follow you … 

… even though he so desperately wants to. 

< … > 

"I-it was so humiliating Nobara! Just … just imagine how disgusted he must be with me right now!" You throw your hands up as you continue pacing, talking through your tears as best that you can. Though it proves to be a struggle, you manage to get your point across and speak for long enough before you dissolve into tears again.  

Nobara's eyes soften, gaze flickering momentarily to Maki, who only wears an expression similar to the former's. She stands, opening her arms to you. They lock around you as you all but fall into them, clawing at her back and pressing your face into her shoulder, crying quietly into the fabric of her shirt.  

"He's not disgusted with you," Nobara begins, but you're quick to cut her off, only crying more. Her hand smooths up and down the length of your spine, her gaze once again flickering to Maki in the hopes that maybe she would say something … anything … to comfort you.  

But just like Nobara, Maki is at a loss for words, sitting quietly on your bed and watching you promptly break down in the expanse of Nobara’s arms.  

“He is! He has to be, c’mon, I totally just — just left him there!” The grip you have over Nobara’s shoulders tighten, holding her impossibly tighter as you try to comfort yourself in her arms. The attempt is futile, and in reality, it only makes you feel worse.  

“I’m sure that he understands.” 

“It’s Sukuna, Maki!” You pry yourself from Nobara’s arms, swallowing the growing lump in your throat and angrily swiping at the tears that cling to your waterline. You sigh, allowing your head to fall into the palms of your hands, nails digging into the sides of your head.  

“Come on (Y/N),” Maki says gently, moving towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. Her fingers squeeze at you comfortingly, a small smile curling her lips upward as you finally turn your head to make eye contact with her. “It’s a simple misunderstanding, I don’t think that Sukuna is going to automatically hate you because of it.”  

You sigh shakily, allowing her to gently guide you to the edge of your bed. She pushes onto your shoulders, then sitting down beside you while Nobara sits in your desk chair — which she had pulled up to the side of the bed so that she could sit directly in front of you.  

“Prom is tomorrow,” you murmur, sighing again a rubbing a hand down your face. Nobara and Maki exchange solemn looks, but neither of them say anything to one another. “And I just … maybe I shouldn’t go.” 

Nobara immediately shakes her head, nearly stumbling from her seat from the force at which she leans back. Maki instinctively reaches for her, hands ready to brace the brunette if she were to fall.  

“What?! After everything that we did? We got a dress, we went out and bought makeup, and we even rented a limo with everyone else!” Nobara says sharply, though her voice doesn’t hold any of the malice that you had expected it too. You knew what she was trying to do anyway, convince you by slightly guilting you into thinking that by you not being there, prom night would essentially be ruined.  

You sniffle, rubbing a hand against your tear-stained cheeks. Maki reaches out, rubbing a hand against your back. Of course, she wants you to go to prom as well, but unlike Nobara, she wouldn’t sit there and guilt trip you into going. If you didn’t want to go, then it was as simple as that, you didn’t want to go.  

“I-I know that, but Nobara—“ 

“Stop.” Nobara stands then, her hands on either side of your face and squishing your cheeks together. “We’re going to prom together, and that’s that. Got it?” 

You sigh, blinking back the last bits of tears that cling to your lashes. And against your better judgement, even though you so desperately want to stay home all day tomorrow and rot …  

 … you nod against the skin of Nobara’s palms.  

< … > 

"(Y/N)! Guys!" Yuuji waves wildly from the front entrance of the school's gymnasium, lips turned upward in a wide grin as you, Nobara, and Maki approach. Standing beside Yuuji is Sukuna – who looks as though the only thing he craves at that moment is going home and vanishing for the weekend. 

Uruame wasn't with him though … maybe she just hadn't arrived yet. 

Nobara smiles as you all approach Yuuji, accepting his fist-bump. You turn to him as well, extending your hand at the same moment he does, the both of you performing that oh-so-elaborate handshake.  

“You look nice,” Yuuji says to you, smiling. You return his smile, turning on your heel and marveling as your dress’ train lifts from the ground, creating a small circle around you as you turn. Yuuji turns then to Sukuna, whose eyes dart away as if he had been caught looking at something that he shouldn’t have been.  

“Yeah … nice,” Sukuna murmurs underneath his breath. His comment brings a gentle pink hue to your cheeks, and in thanks, you nod your head at him.  

“C’mon, let’s go inside!” Nobara says happily, her lips tuned upward in a smile as she reaches for your hands, tugging you towards the entrance of the gymnasium. You glance fleetingly at Sukuna, whose eyes are still fixed on anything but you — you wonder what color Uruame would wear. 

Would she match him? Or would she wear a different color that complimented the one he wore? 

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality as you allow Nobara to tug you towards the doors, her lips still turned upward in a delighted smile as she and Maki already begin nodding their heads in tune with the loud music that blares from inside of the gymnasium.  

“Hey, (Y/N).”  

You turn, eyebrows raised as you notice Sukuna looking at you, his body angled so that he faces you. His fingers twitch slightly, debating on whether or not they should reach out for you.  

“Yeah?” 

“Can I talk to you? Jus’ for a second,” Sukuna responds gruffly, clearing his throat and hoping that the dimly lit sky was enough to hide the pink color that dusted his cheeks.  

Nobara, Maki, and Yuuji all exchange knowing looks, their lips all turning upwards into Cheshire-cat-like smiles. None of them say a single word as they slip through the gymnasium’s open doors, leaving both you and Sukuna at the entrance.   

“Everything okay?” you ask, tilting your head at Sukuna. He swallows, shoulders tensing and hands curling into white-knuckled fists. His nails, which had always been long, are no doubt leaving behind crescent-shaped marks on the skin of his palm — what the hell had him so nervous? 

He hesitates, eyes flickering momentarily to you before they look away again. “Everything’s,” he clears his throat, “everything’s fine.” 

You furrow your eyebrows together, not quite believing him. You lift your arms to cross them over your chest, shifting on your foot before finally noticing a tuft of white hair in the distance. You open your mouth to comment, but something stops you.  

“So … where’s Uruame?” you settle for asking, glancing up at him and teasingly wiggling your eyebrows at him. He turns to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  

“The fuck are you talking about?” 

“Uruame. You’re waiting out here for her aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make her walk into prom all by herself,” you turn on your heel to chastise him, pointing a finger at his chest. The crease between his eyebrows only deepens as you continue — which you take as a sign to promptly shut up.  

The two of you stand in awkward silence for a moment, both of you turned away from the other in fear of what expression the other wore.  

“Uruame’s not comin’ to prom,” Sukuna murmurs with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Said she wasn’t the biggest fan of parties, not that I blame ‘er.” 

“Oh.” 

Again, neither of you say anything to the other. You can feel your cheeks burning, and in the hopes that he wouldn’t say anything, you lift your hands to your face, covering it. He tilts his head, sighing with the smallest of smirks plastered onto his face.  

“Lemme guess,” he turns to you, regaining his confidence and bending just enough so that his nose is level with your own. Your eyes widen, the pink color on your cheeks deepening at the sudden closeness. “You thought I was takin’ Uruame to prom, didn’t you?” 

“N-no,” you reply quickly, your voice a high-pitched squeak. Sukuna chuckles, shifting back on his feet and crossing his arms over his chest, staring down his nose at you. “Okay, maybe.” 

The taller man turns, leaning against the wall of the gymnasium and glancing at you through the corner of his eye. You shuffle on your feet, not daring to look up at Sukuna.  

“That why you kept tellin’ Yuuji that you weren’t comin’ to prom?” he asks, grinning as he glances at you. “‘Cause you thought I was goin’ with Uruame?” 

You remain silent — now suddenly embarrassed over your childlike reaction. To be honest, it had been petty for you to potentially throw away the entirety of your prom night over something as trivial as not having a date. But at the same time, your friends had been asked to prom by the people that they were romantically interested in — hell, even Yuuji had managed to successfully ask Megumi to prom. And that was after he had smacked himself in the face in front of his bathroom mirror.  

Sukuna chuckles, leaning his head back and crossing his arms over his chest. His fingers drum against his clothed bicep, a delighted hum rumbling up somewhere in his throat as he relishes in your reactions. He clears his throat, catching your attention. 

“Stupid,” he murmurs, reaching a hand out and laying it over the top of your head. You huff at him, smoothing your hands over your hair, hoping that all of the styling that you had done wasn’t ruined by Sukuna’s comically large palm.  

“And that makes me stupid because?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at Sukuna. He rolls his eyes, once again leaning down to be at eye-level with you again. This time, however, you challenge his stare with one of your own — pointed and cold, though not nearly as cold as the glare situated in front of you.  

“It makes you stupid because you actually thought I’d take someone other than you to prom.” 

His words make you positively flush from head to toe. You stand as still as stone in front of him, inhaling sharply as he adjusts himself again. He offers his arm to you, nodding in the direction of the opened gymnasium doors.  

“So then why didn’t you ask me sooner?”  

Sukuna rolls his eyes, sighing. “I’m not good at that kind of stuff, but trust me, you’re the only girl that I’d have ever even considered to take to this fuckin’ thing.” 

You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you slip your arm into Sukuna’s. His chest swells at the smile that you flash at him, and in a moment of bravery, he leans down to press his lips to your own.  

Thank God that you had decided to go to prom. 

[hotchfiles]

↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.

AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT

pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K

    In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…

    “Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth. 

    The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.

    “Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”

    “My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod. 

    “Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated. 

    “And you? Catholic?” 

    “Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood. 

    Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place. 

    He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before. 

    “She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting. 

    He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date. 

    “I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment. 

    Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?” 

    The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you. 

    “So you believe it’s a man?” 

    “Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited. 

    It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time. 

    “Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open. 

    “If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty. 

    “To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself. 

    “A very shameful execution.” 

    You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.

    And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.

    “Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.

    “Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.

    The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.

    The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.

    You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then. 

    Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.

    “Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.” 

    Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.

    “Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”

    “They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.

    “Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction. 

    “Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation. 

    Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.

    “Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.

    “Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”

[bellsmess]

Whenever someone calls Charles Rowland straight, an angel dies.

What straight guy tells his best friend who just confessed to him that there's no one else – no one – he would go to Hell for. And that they have forever to figure out what that means. You don’t get his repressed bisexuality like I do!

Even modern bisexuals (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience) are oblivious to the fact they're bi because heteronormative roles are so engraved in our minds. When you're attracted to other genders, it's easy to miss a same-sex crush, only then to realise that oh, it wasn’t just admiration, it was attraction.

Charles, having grown up at the height of the AIDS crisis, with an abusive and probably homophobic father, killed by racist bullies? That would make anyone repress any gay feelings. Especially if you experience crushes on people with a different sex to you.

Charles sees Crystal and takes his chance. He's enamoured with this smart, strong-willed, pretty girl who can see him not only in a physical sense, but pays attention to him. He longs to be loved. Then he says the infamous "That sounds alot like you, doesn't it? Maybe that's why I like her so much" line. What an icon. And he compares himself and his best friend to the greatest love story of all time, Orpheus and Euridyce's.

When Edwin confesses to him, he doesn't rule out the possibility of returning these feelings. He knows they're already devoted to each other. They've already had 30 years of companionship and solving cases together.

"As long as I have my best mate and a case to solve, I'm good."

Being with Edwin is simple. They solve cases, help others, run away from Death. It's a simple existance. Charles gave up eternity to be with Edwin, because he was kind to him when he was dying. Charles finds him fun, wants to protect him, knows that Edwin is a kind and good person. One that Charles wants to be.

"Bad guys don't worry about being bad guys. And you, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know."

Crystal's role is very important in changing the dynamic between Edwin and Charles. Not only because Charles falls for her, but because she opens them up. She digs out their repressed feelings and trauma. Charles finally deals with his dad's abuse, his happy-go-lucky mask falls. She points it out to Edwin. Charles kept it up so well because Edwin didn't press it, but Crystal does. And Charles finally lets himself process what happened to him, and how that affects his relationships.

Charles never saw genuine love between his parents, and that affects how he views relationships. It impacts how he forms them, too. But he's a loverboy, he longs to be loved, he falls easily. Why wouldn’t he fall for someone who stuck to his side for 30 years?

Crystal and Monty's roles mirror each other – they help the boys figure out their feelings and desires. Crystal makes Edwin jealous that there's someone else Charles cares about in the same sense he cares for Edwin. The Cat King helps Edwin discover desire, Monty – genuine love. As Charles' and Crystal's relationship kickstarts (albeit ends as quickly) and Monty persues Edwin, he discovers the depth of his feelings.

"These complicated feelings that you have? They're for Charles."

I would love to see their wants explored more in the future season(s, hopefully multiple). Charles giving into desire with Desire of the Endless' guidance? Yes please.

I simply cannot believe that anyone would doubt Painland/Payneland endgame. They're everything to each other. They're a constant presence, reassurance, and love. Platonic, romantic, it doesn't matter. Their bond is so deep and genuine that immortal beings see it and leave them be, in the afterlife they chose for each other. Their love is so deep it transcends planes: from mortal plane to Hell, it leads Charles to Edwin. Charles is not Orpheus, when he turns around to hear Edwin out on the staircase from Hell, he manages to get him out. And they have literally forever for each other.

[dyaz-stories]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

[honeyhoshi]

hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 

���Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock. 

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ 5 more minutes ] l. hughes

paring : Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Luke’s girlfriend surprises him in Newark after his last college hockey game

warning(s) : none really. just very fluffy and emotional. also very short bc it was 1 am when i came up w this idea

author’s note : in honor of today being my last day as an ncaa student athlete, i quickly wrote this up. i was feeling very emotional and i needed a way to express how i felt. hence why we now have a very fluffy / emotional fic. some of the comments luke makes are some of my thoughts about how my own season ended yesterday. it’s kinda sad but it had to be done. you’re welcome (i think ?)

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Jack texts her when he has picked up his younger brother from the airport. She begins to pace around the living room of Jack’s apartment that he’s now going to be sharing with Luke.

She has no clue what state Luke is going to be in when he walks through the door. He’s probably going to be so pissed that he spent the last two minutes or so of his college career in the penalty box instead of on the ice or on the bench with his teammates. He’s been so busy traveling that he hasn’t had time to sit and reflect on the season.

That’s the reason that she hopped on a flight to Newark as soon as the clock hit zero against Quinnipac. She just wanted to make sure that he’s okay before he goes and signs his NHL contract in two days and joins Jack on the Devils.

Either he’s going to be really upset and pissed or he’s going to be excited to start the next chapter in his career. She has no idea which version of Luke she’s going to get.

Keys jingle in the door about a half hour after Jack texts her to let her know he has Luke. She stops pacing and stands in the middle of the living room. Her eyes are on the door as Jack pushes it open.

“… not really in the mood for any surprises,” Luke says as he walks through the door. “I’m so tired.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” Jack tells his brother as he shuts the door behind them. Luke drops the big duffel bag that contains his hockey gear on the floor by the door in the foyer area. Then he finally makes his way to the living room with his suitcase.

He freezes mid-step when he sees his girlfriend.

With a small wave and a smile, she says, “Hi, Lukey.”

Luke crosses the room in five strides because of his stupidly long legs. He envelops her in a hug and buries his face in her neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and they stand like that for what feels like an eternity.

She doesn’t mind. If it means that Luke’s okay then she’ll stand like this forever.

She presses soft kisses into his shoulder and whispers to him, “I’m so proud of you, Luke. So incredibly proud of you. I know that’s not how you wanted the season to end but you did everything you could, and for that I am so, so proud of you.”

A quiet sob wracks Luke’s body as he pulls back from the hug. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. A couple roll down his cheek and she reaches up to wipe them away. Jack silently sneaks out of the apartment. He thinks he’s slick but she saw him leave behind Luke.

“I hated that I wasnt out there those last two minutes,” he tells her, voice shaky. “Maybe I could’ve done something that pushed the game into overtime or won it for us. Instead I was in the penalty box while my team had to fight even harder to get goals because they were down a man.”

“I know, baby,” she softly replies. “I wish I could’ve given you guys five more minutes. You all fought so hard. So fucking hard. I’m so sorry that’s how your season ended.”

More tears roll down Luke’s cheeks and she continues to wipe them away.

“I feel like I let them down,” he whispers. “I could’ve fought harder for them. For this season. I let them down when they needed me most and now I’m abandoning them.” His words break her heart.

She shakes her head and cups his jaw. “You didn’t let anyone down,” she tells him. “You did what you could in the sixty minutes you had. They know that and they will always remember how hard you fought for them. You’re so important to everyone on that team and you played such an important role in getting as far as you did as a team. They’re just as proud of you as I am because you are about to start an amazing new chapter in your hockey career. You aren’t abandoning them, Luke. They want you to move forward in your career. They understand that you’re ready and that this is what you want.”

Luke nods and wraps his hands around her wrists. She continues to look up at her boyfriend.

She’ll never understand how he feels because she isn’t an athlete. All she can do now is try to help him realize that he isn’t the worst teammate that he thinks he is at the moment. She doesn’t want him to have that mindset as he transitions from college to the NHL.

Losing is tough in any sport. She knows that much and she is going to make sure that Luke understands that it is okay to feel this way but that he also has to get ready to move forward.

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“It just shows how much you love every team that you’re on,” she replies. “You dedicate so much time to hockey because you love it. You’re allowed to feel this way and feel it for a little bit. You do have a contract to sign in a few days so I’m giving you tonight to get out everything you feel about the Michigan season ended. Tomorrow, it’s time to get excited. I’m here to help you get excited.”

A smile finally cracks through the frown that’s been plastered on Luke’s face since he saw her. She dries his cheeks one more time before she pulls him back into a hug.

Luke presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he says into her hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up. Yes you do,” she retorts. “I love you too. Let’s go get you unpacked then we can take a nap because I heard you tell Jack how tired you are.”

When she pulls away from the hug and starts to walk to his suitcase, Luke grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. She looks up at him for a quick second before his lips are on hers. The kiss surprises her because of how emotional he is, but sometimes a kiss is all it takes to feel better.

She happily smiles into the kiss and runs her fingers through his curls as she returns it. It’s one of his favorite things she does so many he’ll start to feel better a little faster. Luke loves feelings her fingers in his curls. It’s the reason he doesn’t try to tame them.

The front door opens again and a voice says, “Okay, we are establishing some rules. Rule one, the door stays open three inches when your girlfriend is over. I don’t need any babies crying in my apartment at three in the morning right now.”

They both pull back and she looks behind Luke at Jack, who has a disgusted look on his face. She smiles but Luke’s cheeks turn a tomato red. She laughs and shakes her head.

“Rule two,” Jack continues. “No making out anywhere I can see you. That means the-”

“Jack!” Luke snaps. “I get it. We get it. Also, I’m not going to be leaving my door open three inches. If I want to have sex with my girlfriend then I’m going to. It’s my room and we split the rent now so I’ll do what I want.”

“None of that premarital kissing stuff where I can see or hear it,” Jack tells his brother. “I don’t need that in my life.”

She laughs and takes the opportunity to grab Luke’s bag and suitcase. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We won’t traumatize you. Again.”

Both Luke and his girlfriend laugh as they make their way to Luke’s new room, leaving a disgusted and definitely traumatized Jack Hughes in the living room.

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MASTERLIST

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[samwinchesterswifu]

You Shook Me All Night Long (Dean Winchester x Reader) Smut

Bunker seasons era

Song Inspo: "You Shook Me All Night Long" by ACDC

Warnings: literally the whole thing is just smut lmfao

MINORS DNI

A/N: ive been having TERRIBLE writers block. I dunno how happy i am with this one, so PLEASE let me know if this good smutty shit yall, thnxs for your endless support <3

Word Count: 1103

Summary: He surprises her with coming home early...but that's not the only thing he surprises her with.

The boys were away on a week long hunt. Since injuring her knee a few months ago during a Ghoul hunt, she’s decided to take a break from hunting to allow her body full time to heal. This allowed her a lot of time to make the Bunker a proper home for them. She would spend her weekends keep housing if the boys were still gone, then during the week she would spend time in the library cataloging or helping with research. Then, whenever Dean came home, she was hands on with focus. Her and Dean had been a thing for a little while. The stress of the job eventually breaking down the tough looking hunter asking her to be his life partner. She had happily agreed. There was no real label on their relationship, just two people who understood each other more than any other human.

It was a Sunday morning. Dean had called her the night before, informing her that they would probably be home Sunday night, or possibly into Monday. She was excited to see Dean. Since taking her leave, Dean coming home from these longer hunts added an extra excitement to their relationship. But knowing he won’t be home until as late as tomorrow, she treated it like any other Sunday.

Dressed in little shorts, a cute tank top that showed off her features she began her cleaning routine. Starting in the war room, making her way through the kitchen and then finally to the library. Music blasted throughout the speaker system of the bunker. Charlie had helped set her up with a Bluetooth connection to the old raggedy speakers one weekend while the boys were gone and they had a girls date. It was her little incentive to stay motivated.

One of her favorite 80’s song began on a new rotation of shuffle and she began swagging her hips to the beat of the song while spraying cleaner on the library tables, bending over to get all the way across. She was so distracted by the beat that she didn’t even hear the bunker door open. Dean had arrived home early as a surprise. Dancing around the tables, doing small spins or dance moves, Dean just admired her from a distance. He never got to see her like this. He dropped his bag down and with a thud she turned around to see him. Completely flustered that she was caught. The two of them just starred, Dean was practically undressing her with his eye making her squirm under his gaze.

Neither of them said anything as Dean strode towards her. Grabbing onto her hips, and pulling her tight to his chest. Breathing in the cheap cologne Dean always loved to wear, practically getting drunk off his sent alone. A grin creeps on Dean’s face and he sways the two to the beat. Eyes were locked on one another as he gave her a little spin before bringing her back into sway. A deep blush forms across her cheeks. She hardly ever saw Dean this way, usually this was after a good hunt and no one got hurt. Towards the end of the song, Dean crashes his lips to hers. This was a new hunger she hasn’t experienced. Sure, they’ve had make-up sex, ‘I thought I lost you back there’ sex, and so forth. But this was different, it was ravenous. Dean’s kisses grew heavier, teeth clashing as he drove his hands all over her curves.

At this point, her hips were pinned against one of the library tables. Dean broke away from her lips, kissing along her cheek and down towards the nape of her neck. Nibbling away at different spots along her collar bone. Small mewls and moans of pleasure leave her lips, earning a tighter grip of his hands on her. Dean leans down for a brief moment, hoisting her up by her legs to sit her on the table. He gently pushes her shoulders back on the hardwood, and continues to trail kisses down her clothed body. As he gets closer to her stomach, Dean shifts to be on his knees. Which was surprising. He places tiny kisses across her hips as he uses his hands to push open her legs. Dean yanks off her shorts underwear in a swift movement. Both pieces coming off together. This man was starving for her.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers looking at her pussy. His eyes drift back up to hers as he licked his lips.

In a split second, Dean was diving in. Lapping away at her folds like it was the most delectable fruit Dean has ever tasted in his time on earth. An orgasm was ripping through her body with moments. She tugs on his hair as he continues to coach her through the orgasm. But Dean wasn’t done, he was still at it. Moans echoed through the library and she felt so unholy. This is where men of generations came to learn about the monsters of her world, and yet her she was, bare ass on the same table as her man ate her out alive.

Another orgasm was on the horizon, and like the quick man that Dean Winchester is, two of his broad fingers are inserted into her folds. A shocked and rattled moan escapes her at the shock of surprise and pleasure. His fingers are going in and out like a jack rabbit. Dean occasionally curling them to reach her g-spot.

“Come on baby,” Dean whispers from his spot. This man was fucking edging her on.

Another finger inserted.

“If you want my cock, I’ll need another one from you,” his voice was demanding. And she was prepared to meet those demands.

His attack on her just sped up more, and more. While simultaneously sucking on her clit. But finally, she was close.

“Fuck, Dean,” she gasps. Tugging again at his strands.

“Don’t..stop,” breathing was labored and felt like she was about to see stars. She was there…she was right there…

Then there was nothing. The area Dean was just in was cold. Looking up in utter confusion, she sees her man pulled away. His chin shining with her cum and a shit eating grin plaster on his damn face.

She stutters.

“Y-you, you cant do that, please Dean.” The unpleasant feeling of an orgasm left unfinished pulsated through her.

“I’m gunna need you to last all day sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” He says as he gets up from his position.

Giving her a wink, he simply walks away leaving her baffled.

What the hell am I getting myself into.

[ma1dita]

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

[hedgehog-moss]

I found a nice plant in a bog last year, like a reed with a tuft of very soft cotton at the top (bless you English, I just looked up "plant that grows in a bog and looks like cotton" and the English language replied "bog cotton, duh") (in French it's called linaigrette, which should be a small bird), and I was very charmed by the look of it and decided to try to pirate it so I would have some on my land. I plucked one fluffy reed and kept it on my windowsill so I wouldn't forget to return.

Of course, when I returned a few days later with a shovel and a bucket, I couldn't find the bog cotton again. Or the bog. It was a small swamp-y area in a very vast plateau with few landmarks, so it's possible I got turned around, but also, things tend to disappear around here sometimes, like the footpath that leads to the stream, only to reappear a few weeks later. I very much felt like I was in the correct location and the bog wasn't, but okay. Since I didn't trust myself to tell the normal reeds from the cotton-y ones in other seasons, I decided I'd come back around the same time next year.

I've had the linaigrette in my egg spiral in the kitchen this whole time as a memento, and I finally resumed my quest today. I left my car in the exact same spot where I'd left it the previous two times, just before the road gets squiggly for no apparent reason:

I climbed the hill and behind it were just miles and miles of estives (summer cow pastures) with sometimes a barn here and there with a mobile milking parlour. My plan was to follow every rivulet I came across, since I was looking for a watery area.

I picked a barn as a landmark to find my car again, and off we went.

Finding reeds wasn't difficult, but none of them had cotton tufts...

Pandolf was extremely aware that we were looking for something, but he wasn't sure what. Here he is digging in the mud with his paw, looking invested in this treasure hunt.

Sometimes he would stop with one paw poised in the air and his whole body pointed forwards like an English setter who just smelled a pheasant in a Heywood Hardy painting and it was always for cow herds. If I squinted and squinted I could be sure to find a cow on the horizon, the size of an ant—I think Pan was a bit disappointed when he realised I never followed up on the cows he smelled, and it probably wasn't cows we were looking for.

(zoom x400 in case you can't see this cow standing apart from her herd like a sentinel)

I tried to amuse him by giving him little challenges here and there, like climbing on big rocks because he likes rocks. He likes being congratulated even more, though, and if I didn't insist that he actually climb on the rock he would just sort of run towards it and push himself off of it like a swimmer doing a flip turn at the wall to run back to me even faster (for pats). (Had to turn off the sound in the video because the wind was loud, so I subtitled our dialogue)

Some challenges he politely declined to do. I like how despite being very eager to please he sometimes gives me very clear "no thank you"s when I tell him to do something that sounds absurd to him. We found a little waterfall that went down a slope like a mud toboggan and I said "down!" to tell him to slide down that thing and he was like

Our strategy of following water paid off, because look what we found eventually!!

I had a very hard time digging up one clump of reeds with some roots; the bog was holding on to its cotton for dear life. Every time I opened a hole in the mud with my shovel with a horrible sucking noise, the bog would immediately close on itself again with an even stronger vacuum. It also tried to eat my boots, repeatedly. When I moved around the reeds I was trying to steal I had to take my foot out of my boot, stand on one leg like a heron and put the tip of my shovel under the sole of the boot to pry it up. But after maybe 20min of effort, the bog finally let go of one muddy clump of reeds in a loud, dejected SLURP and I was able to put it in my bucket. It was about 10x heavier than I expected so the walk back to my car was slow!

(One thing to keep in mind if you're going to wrestle a swamp for half an hour, is that you're going to end up looking and smelling like a swamp creature. I had to stop at the post office to send a parcel and I really regretted not doing it earlier. It's funny because the post office lady is always like "no, don't worry, come in!! <3" when you show up on rainy days apologising for your muddy shoes, but when I arrived today and asked her from the entrance if I should just throw my parcel at her rather than go in, with my socks making a pitiful plop-plop sound in my boots as I walked, and mud freckles all over my face from aggressive shovelling, and overall looking like a gravedigger, she took one look at me and went "... yes, throw it.")

The good news is, I didn't get lost returning from the swamp to my car, and had no trouble finding my barn-landmark again, and there were new animals there, a nice mule with a retinue of small ponies.

She was friendly at first but then soured on me when I refused to let her sniff and maybe taste the reeds I'd had so much trouble digging up, and then she wouldn't let me approach her ponies.

One of the ponies approached Pandolf, and I told him to stand still—we've been working on "reste là !" (stay there) for a while and it's hard because he's so friendly and exuberant, so I was very proud of him when he stood there frozen as a marble statue, waiting for the pony to come closer. The pony ended up stopping at a prudent distance and stretching his neck out to try and sniff Pandolf, it was very cute.

That's the end of the quest for bog cotton! Here it is now, transplanted to the swamp-y part of my pasture, I hope it'll like it here.