✦ Minhyuk Y Moonbin
✦ Minhyuk y Moonbin
Pedido N° 2: Park Minhyuk y Moon Bin
Extencion: 3.2k
Tags: stepbrothers, angst pero happy ending, malentendidos por todas partes
also in ao3
Moon Bin había tomado la decisión de irse de su casa a los diecinueve años, su madre no entendía su decisión tan repentina, pero no lo detuvo. Su padrastro ni siquiera opino, su relación no era mala, al contrario, le tenía mucho cariño sin embargo habían hecho un trato silencioso en el que ninguno se entrometía en las decisiones del otro y eso funcionó.
Vivir con Dongmin tampoco había sido fácil, porque en el momento que acordaron lo de irse a vivir juntos, Bin se había olvidado que su amigo salía con Sanha; quien era una pulga de la cual no podía deshacerse ni con el peor de los venenos. Y eso, lo hizo sentir aún más solo.
Diez años después, Bin con un trabajo estable y departamento propio, se dio cuenta de que no importara cuanto se alejara e intentara engañarse a sí mismo, la única persona por la que podría dejar todo, era la única que incluso si suplicara, jamás le correspondería.
Es por eso que la silueta de Park Minhyuk apareció en las oficinas de Marketing junto al jefe Bam, él quiso esconderse en su oficina y llorar por horas, realmente pensó que lo había superado aunque sea un poco. Que tan equivocado se encontraba, cuando los latidos de su corazón revivieron luego de años en calma el calor de su cuerpo se hizo evidente, y sus subordinados parece que también lo notaron.
—Señor Moon, ¿se encuentra bien?
—Si, prepárense—casi que se lo dijo así mismo—Ahí viene el Sr. Bam.
En ese momento, el Sr. Bam acompañado de la figura pequeña de Park Minhyuk, apareció frente a él. Todos en la sala se pararon e hicieron una reverencia hacia el CEO, quien presentó al acompañante como colaborador para el proyecto artístico. Ese es el momento en el que sus ojos se encontraron, la mirada brillante con un rastro de sorpresa de Hyuk exalto al rubio quien solo pudo desviar la mirada hacia su jefe.
—Sr. Moon Bin, por favor cuide de Minhyuk—el presidente posó una mano sobre el pelinegro quien sonreía ocultando la decepción por la reacción de Bin—que su popularidad no lo engañe, es de los mejores artistas que he visto.
—No lo dudo—no lo pensó, las palabras se le escaparon y se arrepintió, el tono con el que lo dijo se sintió tan personal que una punzada de dolor lo atravesó. El Señor Bam se fue más rápido de lo que Bin deseo, y pronto Minhyuk, MoonBin y los subordinados se encontraban solos.
—Sigan trabajando en el proyecto, organizaré unos temas con el Sr. Park—ordenó Bin llevando a Hyuk fuera de la sala de reuniones—No holgazaneen.
El trayecto hacia la oficina de MoonBin fue silencioso, en realidad el rubio temía que si empezaba una conversación que está tornara una dirección que no podría soportar. Sabía que era el culpable de esta incomodidad, culpable de su propio sufrimiento.
Park Minhyuk quien era el único hijo de su padrastro, pelo y ojos negros, estatura mediana y hombros pequeños. Crecieron juntos, fueron a la escuela juntos, compartieron habitación por años y hasta que se fue de la casa, fueron mejores amigos. Minhyuk lo contacto cientos de veces; navidad, su cumpleaños, año nuevo o simplemente porque quería verlo, siempre dijo estar ocupado.
Moon Bin se refugió en el estudio, y ahora en el trabajo. Sin embargo, no importaba cuantos kilómetros hubiera de distancia, en el fondo, su cabeza rondaba sobre preguntas de Minhyuk. Y ahora muchas de ellas, estaban siendo respondidas. El cabello pelinegro estaba por los hombros totalmente alisado, sus expresiones eran más maduras, su figura se notaba tonificada y los jeans rotos con la remera negra le quedaban tan bien que lloraría.
—Lo siento, no sabia que estaba trabajando aquí—y como si lo hubieran golpeado con agua, la voz de Minhyuk lo saca de su trance. Minhyuk lo mira, no fijamente—Bin, ¿quieres que renuncie al proyecto? Estoy seguro…
—No tienes que disculparte, hyung—interrumpe rápidamente Bin y mueve sus brazos nerviosamente, se siente extraño—No hay razón para renunciar.
Es un segundo de silencio.
—¿No estás molesto?—cuestionó el pelinegro.
—¿Eh? ¿Por qué lo estaría?—Bin abre la puerta de su oficina manteniéndola para que entre su hyung quien agradeció con la cabeza. Cuando la puerta se cierra, repentinamente se sienten demasiado cerca.
—Bueno…—Minhyuk se rasca la nuca—no debe ser agradable tener que trabajar con alguien que odias.
Antes de que siquiera pudiera procesarlo.
—Es decir, no dudo que tú puedas soportar a cualquier persona sin importar que tanto lo odies, ya que eres un gran trabajador.
—Hyung, yo no te odio—Bin se acercó con el ceño fruncido—¿Quién te dijo algo así, hyung?
Minhyuk pestañeó un par de veces y respondió.
—Bin, tu me lo dijiste—el pelinegro retrocedió un paso ante el cuerpo enorme del menor ¿en qué momento creció tanto? sus hombros eran mucho más anchos y sin duda que aumento unos centímetros de altura—El día que me llamaste, en la madrugada, ¿lo recuerdas?
No, no lo recordaba, en absoluto. Estaba tan confundido que su cabeza empezaba a doler.
No importaba cuanto forzara su memoria, ningun recuerdo venía a su cabeza, incluso le costaba imaginarse a sí mismo diciéndole esas palabras a su hyung.
—Hyung, en serio, no te odio—a Bin le tembló la voz por el desespero.
—¿Es así? Es un alivio entonces—contestó el mayor sonriendo—, Ya que nunca quieres reunirte conmigo, tus palabras ya eran una explicación a tus acciones.
Moon Bin trago el nudo que se formaba en su garganta.
—Mis acciones no tienen nada que ver con esas palabras—Bin se alejó del mayor fingiendo que buscaba algo en su escritorio—Hyung es una persona que aprecio mucho.
Parecía que Minhyuk no escuchó la última frase ya que no hubo respuesta alguna. Luego de eso le dijo que se pusiera cómodo, y en sus carpetas Minhyuk fue sacando las propuestas que tenía para el proyecto; como era esperarse de su hyung, todo era maravilloso, desde pequeño que el pelinegro desarrolló sus habilidades con el dibujo y con un poco de recelo recuerda al Bin pequeño que constantemente le pedía que le regalara dibujos. El Moon Bin que acostumbraba apoyarse en su hyung, su diferencia era solo de un año, pero Minhyuk actuó como un hermano mayor a pesar de no tener una relación sanguínea. Quizás fue por eso que cuando descubrió sus sentimientos se aterró tanto, Park Minhyuk lo veía como un hermano.
Luego de terminar su jornada laboral, en la que no pudo concentrarse, Minhyuk lo invitó a comer pero dijo que ya tenía planes con Dongmin. Lo cual no era del todo mentira porque por más que ya no vivieran juntos, eran vecinos y Sanha, como dijo antes, era una pulga de la cual no podía deshacerse.
—¿Por qué estás tan deprimido, Hyung?
—No quiero hablar de eso—murmuró Bin contra la almohada del sofá.
Sanha suspiro malhumorado.
—Si vas a estar de malas repartiendo esas malas energías, vete a tu habitación a hundirte en tu propia miseria—Sanha lo estaba echando, de su propia casa.
—Y-a en serio, Bin—Dongmin vino dándole una palmadita en la cabeza—¿Qué pasa?
Moon Bin se incorporó con agotamiento en su cuerpo.
—Park Minhyuk, ese es mi problema.
Oh.
—Minhyuk hyung no es tu problema—contestó con los brazos cruzados Sanha, el defensor número uno del pelinegro—Tu problema es que te guste tu hermanastro.
—¡Ex-hermanastro!—exclamó Moon Bin. Porque sí, hace ya cuatro años que la madre de Bin y el Sr. Park se habían separado, aunque según había visto la última vez que fue a visitar a su madre estos seguían siendo igual de pegados. No cabía duda que fueron mejores amigos toda la vida y que incluso su separación romántica no podía romper su amistad, los envidiaba.
Dongmin y Sanha se quedaron toda la noche viendo películas mientras que Bin ni siquiera podía fingir que la estaba pasando mal, eventualmente se quedó dormido y cuando despertó la pareja ya no estaba ahí. Era de madrugada, el cielo estaba tapado de niebla y una leve llovizna golpeaba contra el ventanal del departamento, sentado en la silla de su cocina hundió su cabeza en sus manos. Se le salía el corazón, todos los años que aguanto se le venían abajo, tanto esfuerzo por mantener su vida en equilibrio, un ser con tanto poder en su vida lo derrumbaba todo. Se sentía mal, como si su cuerpo estuviera sosteniendo rocas, rocas pesadas que le quemaban.
Un ataque de tos lo golpeó con fuerza, puso su mano en su boca y con la otra agarró su garganta, ardía. Sus ojos fruncidos se abrieron enfocando la vista, la mesada cubierta de pétalos pequeños y lilas. Pensó que estaba alucinando sin embargo el tacto contra ellas era suave, eran reales. Pronto la tos volvió y con ellos mantuvo la mirada abierta, y si, lo que sospechaba. Los pétalos salían de su garganta.
✦
Moon Bin no fue a trabajar, los días estaban lluviosos, y cada día la tos estaba peor. Su cama era cómoda, sin embargo no llegaba a tapar el frío que sentía. Intentaba levantarse para mantener su cuerpo activo, era más difícil de lo que había supuesto, llegar a la cocina ahora era un verdadero triunfo.
Dongmin y Sanha, se ofrecieron a cuidarlo del resfriado que decía tener, no importaba cuanto lo pidieran, no los iba a dejar. Ya sabía que no era un resfriado común, lo averiguo, no era ni más ni menos que la enfermedad de Hanahaki producida por un amor no correspondido y que, hasta el día, no tenía cura. Estaba agotado, su pecho dolía de lo mucho que tosía y su cabeza no podía alejarse de los mechones negros, ya llevaba varios días ausentado al trabajo se preguntaba si Minhyuk seguía preparando diseños para el proyecto. Suspiro.
Espero que no se esté sobre exigiendo.
Minhyuk siempre era maravilloso, en los últimos años evitó analizar las cualidades del pelinegro sin embargo ahora era inevitable. Sus recuerdos más vividos eran de adolescentes; es decir, siempre se llevaron bien, siempre jugaron juntos y siempre fueron una familia, pero a partir de su preadolescencia fue diferente. Ellos no solo eran hermanastros, eran amigos, estudiaban juntos, veían películas juntos, se quejaban de sus padres y se escapaban de casa juntos. Y fue cuando sus sentimientos florecieron.
La primera vez que tomaron alcohol juntos eran realmente jóvenes, Moon Bin estaba por cumplir los diecisiete años y su hyung estaba a semanas de irse a la Universidad de Arte. Esa noche, con unos pocos tragos de alcohol en sangre, se dio cuenta lo mucho que le gustaba Minhyuk. No amor de familia, no, gustar gustar. Un amor que le cubría el pecho, y le hacía temblar las manos. Se sintió tan culpable, tan enfermo, que ni siquiera volvió a mirar a los ojos a su Hyung temiendo que notara sus sentimientos.
Fue una sorpresa para su familia la nueva actitud del joven Bin, evitaba a su hermanastro a toda costa, cuando venía de vacaciones de la universidad él se iba a la casa de sus amigos, cuando no podía ir a la casa de sus amigos fingía estar ocupado y se quedaba en su habitación. Todo el grupo familiar pensó que los hermanos inseparables se pelearon, y Minhyuk quien no entendía en absoluto como Bin se volvió tan arisco, tenía ganas de llorar; estaba claro que no era una fase de su adolescencia, Moon Bin lo estaba evitando sino como se explicaría que asistía a todas las reuniones familiares a las que él no iba.
Cuando comprendió que estaba siendo una molestia para Moon Bin, no dudó en darle su espacio. Intentó evitar ir a las fiestas de Navidad y Año nuevo, sin embargo la Señora Moon siempre insistía en que fuera, le daban ganar de vomitar de los nervios con la cara de disgusto de Bin. Se sentía terrible.
Y fue peor cuando se enteró de que Moon Bin se había ido de la casa, fue su padre quien llamó pero sabía que la pregunta que le hizo fue por los sollozos de la Señora Moon.
—Hyuk, ¿realmente te peleaste con Bin?
Sabía que no, sin embargo las acciones de su hermanastro eran tan extrañas que le hacían doler el corazón.
Para las siguientes vacaciones, el cuerpo de Hyuk estaba cansado solo de pensar en ir a casa. Sin embargo fue a pedido de su padre. En esas vacaciones fue que se enteró que se separaron, y Hyuk realmente se sintió como un hijo de padres divorciados, ellos que siempre se habían querido tanto… No podía entenderlo. La respuesta de su padre fue pues eso mismo tendría que decir yo de Bin y tú. La señora Moon y su padre se rieron y trataron como siempre, y eso fue un alivio.
Cuando pasó por la habitación antigua de Bin sintió el vacío de la casa, era indiscutible que su presencia era añorable. ¿Hace cuanto que el rubio no venía a ver a su madre? Probablemente, meses y… era su culpa.
Antes de que una gota se derramara, la señora Moon lo encontró parado en el pasillo con una expresión tan deplorable que le dio vergüenza la rapidez con la fue abrazado.
—Lo siento tanto, en serio—los mocos no le dejaron hablar—no sé, no sé que le hice.
Con una sonrisa y acariciando su espalda.
—Bin te quiere tanto que no sabe cómo expresarlo.
Esas fueron las palabras de la Señora Moon sin embargo parecían tan equivocadas la noche que Minhyuk llegó a su casa luego de una larga exposición en uno de los museos de Seúl. Su casa era pequeña pero suficiente, tenía una buena vista para inspirarse y a diferencia de la mayoría, no tenía ruidos urbanos. Es por eso que el tono del celular lo sorprendió tanto, contestó impactado por el nombre en la pantalla. En los primeros segundos nadie contestó.
—¿Hola?
—Hyung, realmente odio que seas mi hermano.
La voz inconfundible de Moon Bin se escuchó, y Minhyuk sentía que se quedaba sin aire.
El pelinegro recuerda esa noche muy vivida. Y aunque Moon Bin le negó sus propias palabras hace solo unos días, no era normal que desapareciera en el momento exacto en el que se encuentran, irritado por la situación Minhyuk va a enfrentarlo. Si Moon Bin se niega a volver al trabajo, entonces él tendrá que ir a su casa.
En cuanto llegó a la puerta del departamento con un poquito de ayuda de Sanha—quien volvió con Dongmin luego de abrirle la puerta del edificio—, tocó la puerta, nadie respondió. Siguió insistiendo, pensó que la puerta se caería de lo fuerte que estaba golpeando sin embargo cuando se le ocurrió la probabilidad de que el menor no estuviera en casa Moon Bin apareció frente a él, pálido, el pelo caído y ojeras negras por debajo de los ojos. Fue tan diferente a la imagen que tuvo de él la última vez que incluso dudo que este fuera el propio Bin.
—¿Minhyuk?—sintió que le secaba la garganta—¿Qué haces-?
Inmediatamente una contracción en su abdomen se hizo presente y su cuerpo flaqueo haciéndolo terminar en cuclillas mientras tosía fuertemente. El pelinegro se arrodilló junto a Bin apoyando su mano en la espalda y cerrando la puerta en el camino. Pronto los pétalos salieron por su boca y aunque intentó tapar su boca, fue muy tarde.
—¿Hanahaki?—preguntó el pelinegro, no necesitaba una respuesta, sabía lo que era. La enfermedad del amor no correspondido, no le pareció ver raro a alguien con esta enfermedad, le pareció raro que Moon Bin la tuviera—Llamaré una ambulancia, espera.
—No, hyung—el menor agarró su muñeca deteniéndolo—en serio, no te preocupes. ¿Viniste por algo del proyecto?
Moon Bin con una fuerza interior que sacó de la vergüenza que le daba mostrarse así frente a su hyung.
—¿Qué? Vine porque estaba preocupado—explico el pelinegro—faltaste muchos días al trabajo.
Moon Bin se apoyó en el sofá sabiendo que no podría durar mucho parado.
—No hay porqué preocuparse, hyung—sonrió.
—Moon Bin, ¿me estás malditamente jodiendo?—fue la primera vez que escucho a su Hyung maldecir de esa manera—Tienes hanahaki.
—Lo sé, hyung.
A pasos duros MInhyuk se acercó al sofá, arrodillándose en el piso y enfocando su mirada en el rubio.
—Dime quien es—fuerte y claro, y Bin sintio que iba a empezar a paniquear.
—¿Qué? Hyung, no vale la pena, en serio.
Minhyuk frunció las cejas y agarró la mano del rubio.
—Sea quien sea, le haré entender lo que se está perdiendo por no salir con alguien como tú.
La mirada del menor se oscureció.
—¿Quién sea, hyung? ¿En serio?—la voz se profundizó y Hyuk asintió con seguridad—¿Incluso si eres tú?
Minhyuk asintió un poco confundido.
—Claro, lo haré, sea quien sea.
Moon Bin lo miro como si fuera un tonto, porque realmente lo estaba pesando. Con un suspiro, seguido de una risa amarga se alejó de la mano de su Hyung para agarrar sus pelos entre los dedos de sus manos.
—Hyung, ¿eres estúpido?
Minhyuk no quiso parecerlo aunque no entendía por qué repentinamente lo estaban insultando, aunque rápidamente tuvo una conclusión.
—Oh…—el pelinegro bajó la mirada y asintió hacia sí mismo, apretando sus labios abrazo a Bin—Debió ser muy difícil… No sé cómo aguantaste para convivir tanto con la pareja de Dongmin si tanto te gustaba.
Moon Bin agarró de los hombros a su hyung como si fuera veneno, y se paró de su lugar con una repulsión que Minhyuk no pudo entender hasta que las palabras retumbaron en el departamento.
—¡No es Dongmin quien, Dios Hyung!—la rabia consumía al menor—¡Eres tú, hyung, tú me gustas!
Volvió a tirarse en el sofá con tanta vergüenza que ocultó su cara entre sus palmas.
—oh…—fue lo único que escucho venir del mayor, y sentía que el mundo se le venía abajo, la tos se hizo presente con sus pétalos ya característicos. Unas cuantas lágrimas acompañaron y nuevamente su Hyung estaba tocando su espalda, su toque quemaba pero ya no tenía corazón para alejarse—Bin, hay algo que quiero preguntarte.
La voz fue suave y golpeó contra su oído como un cariño.
—Dime Hyung.
Fueron unos segundos de silencio en los que Minhyuk pensó en cómo decirlo.
—¿Yo cuando te rechace?
—Hyung nunca me consideró una opción, no había necesidad de preguntarlo para saber su respuesta—contesto entrecortadamente.
—No supongas por tu mismo, quiero que me lo preguntes—pidió de manera firme el mayor, lo único que se le ocurrió al rubio fue pensar en cuanto más quería avergonzarlo, no sacó su cabeza de sus manos y se quedó hasta ahí hasta que las manos del mayor agarraron su cabeza levantándola, los dedos de su hyung apretaron en las mejillas mientras que tenían una distancia mínima entre ellos—No vuelvas a suponer.
Los labios de Minhyuk lo atacaron, eran suaves y los primeros segundos Bin pensó que había muerto, que era solo un sueño luego del fin. No lo era, llevó su agarre a la cintura del pelinegro, el corazón golpeando contra su pecho, la piel entre sus dedos, era demasiado real.
—Hyung…—separaron sus labios con sus respiraciones agitadas—Yo, me gustas mucho, en serio.
Minhyuk río.
—A mí también me gustas mucho—beso la mejilla del otro—Y por si estás suponiendo cosas raras, esto no es un rechazo.
Moon Bin sintió que el peso en su pecho se aliviaba.
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Naeve y Kylo, la pareja que el reino respetaba y adoraba. Quienes se amaban con profundidad, y guiaban a sus súbditos con respeto, no siempre fueron una pareja comunicativa, aunque esos tiempos quedaron atrás y la gente se había olvidado lo que era escuchar a los Reyes gritar.
—¡Al menos deberías cuidarte a ti misma!
—¿Y qué quieres que haga?—exclamó Naeve moviendo los brazos—¿Que abandone mis responsabilidades por unos rasguños? No seas ridículo, Kylo. Tu no dejas tu puesto incluso si te han acuchillado.
—¡Pero yo soy un soldado, Naeve!—Kylo pasó su mano por su pelo suspirando y apoyándose en la cama—Además, no es eso lo que me molesta.
—¿Entonces qué es? Porque no te entiendo y en serio estas frustrándome—Naeve puso sus brazos en su cintura con el ceño fruncido. El silencio de su esposo la hizo resoplar—Bien, me voy. No voy a aguantar tus actos de niño caprichoso.
Naeve camino hacia la salida de la habitación, acomodándose la ropa abrió la puerta chasqueando la lengua, con una presión en su pecho, odiaba cuando Kylo la hacía ser la víctima. Su cuerpo fue agarrado por detrás apenas cruzó un paso al corredor, y la puerta fue cerrada en un estruendo. La joven terriblemente enojada empezó a golpear al hombre, que ni siquiera emitió un sonido, era un soldado fuerte pero Naeve no quería admitirlo en ese momento.
—¡Suéltame, ya no quiero hablar contigo!—golpeó con su codo las costillas de Kylo, e intentó liberarse pero este hizo que ambos se tiraran a la cama en un movimiento ridículo para un soldado, rápidamente Kylo agarró las frazadas caras de la cama matrimonial y envolvió a Naeve en ellas.
—Entonces, hablaré yo—los brazos de su esposo no la dejaban ni moverse—Amor, no puedo sentirme tranquilo si sé que no confías en mí para decirme si te lastimas. Sé que no puedo protegerte siempre, y sé que tampoco me dejarías hacerlo. Sin embargo, no puedo evitar sentirme ansioso si tengo que descubrir que estas lastimada por una simple casualidad.
Kylo no solia ser tan detallista en expresar sus sentimientos, sin embargo, esos ojos oscuros que brillaban con súplica le aguaron el corazón.
—Maldita sea, Kylo—Naeve cerró los ojos—¿No podías decir eso antes de que me enojara tanto? Ahora me siento mal por ocultarlo.
—Lo siento—susurró su esposo abrazándola aun cubierta con las mantas.
—Sin embargo, te lo hubiera dicho si no actúaras como si fuera a darte un paro cardíaco cada vez que ves una gota de mi sangre.
it's my birthday!! today I post Seb OS
07. Celos
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Naeve estaba segura de su relación, todos lo sabían, por lo que nadie ni se molestaría en pedirle romper su matrimonio. Naeve siempre fue clara, desde el momento que se enamoró de Kylo, nunca hubo otra opción.
Y claro, que para Kylo jamás hubo otra opción más que Naeve. Sin embargo, a pesar de su enamoramiento profundo cometió un error que sería el causante de su propia irritación. Jamás aclarar su relación con los medios extranjeros.
Cada año le llegaban propuestas de matrimonio con personajes distinguidos de la realeza, e incluso algunos tenían el descaro de venir a presentarse en su cara. Hombres y mujeres pedían el matrimonio del Rey en frente de su propia esposa, y aunque Naeve jamás se mostró molesta ante esto, era terriblemente difícil no sentirse irritado.
Naeve quien siempre mantuvo una expresión calmada, no pudo soportarlo cuando el Rey de Clæm fue lo suficientemente descarado como para presentarse frente a Kylo y pedirle matrimonio, y no sólo eso, despreciando su relación cuando Kylo dio a conocer su matrimonio.
Se sentía enferma, enferma de lo mucho que la enojaba. Ese nuevo sentimiento invadió su pecho, y la parte racional de su cerebro le impidió sacar al Rey de Clæm a patadas. Sin embargo rápidamente Kylo deshizo las ilusiones ridículas del invitado no deseado y con una cara frustrada el Rey de Clæm se retiró.
Pronto los brazos de Kylo la rodearon y dejo un beso en la mejilla.
—Naeve, por casualidad, ¿estás celosa?
La chica lo miro y suspiro.
—Si.
—¡¿Eh’?! ¿En serio?
—Si, pero no fanfarrones.
Naeve y con su postura perfecta, salió de la habitación con Kylo siguiéndola.
Burning desire | SV5
your complex relationship with Sebastian, your co-worker, reaches its climax during that one infamous night in cold Milan. Is it better speak or to die? Well, when you are both jealous stubborn maybe the way is to show
words: 4.9k, warnings: slight mentions of alcohol overuse, minor angst, mature (!) sexual content
Milan, late winter of 2019
Your breath hitched in your chest. You would have been lying if you said you weren't anxious. It seemed like just another day at work, but you felt like something was eventually going to happen. How could it? After all, it was just another season and just another gala di apertura with guests, sponsors and staff. It happened every year and you were part of it. Yet, you couldn't identify the reason why you felt different in that case.
The taxi driver just said you had arrived. Looking out the window, you checked out the surroundings where the event occurred. The tall, chic and historic building with luminous lights on the walls looked welcoming. It contrasted the city itself, full of graffiti, crumbling townhouses and streets. Such gems hidden in this city were not uncommon, and you allowed yourself a few seconds of silent praise for the Ferrari’s choice before leaving the car and paying.
A long, silky red gown hit the carpet, which was prepared for the guests, as you took your first step. Goosebumps immediately showed on your skin the moment the chilly wind enveloped your whole body. Your entire back was exposed in that dress, you could have been prepared and taken a jacket. For the sake of a ”flawless look,” you had resigned. After slightly fixing the dress by hand, you headed towards the door passing the assistants in suits waiting outside with a faint smile.
This was the time to put your charm on.
The inside was already boiling. The excited bustle and warm laughter filled the spacious red-decorated hall. Dimmed lights added intimacy and elegance to the décor, while an orchestra hidden somewhere in the corners played Italian classical music. Ferrari events were, well, to say at least pleasant in terms of the atmosphere and venues. They always had an Italian touch framed by timeless elegance. Sometimes you even regretted being here because you worked there. Those nights would have been so much easier as the wife of a millionaire posing for photographs by his side.
You began to pass shy but elegant smiles to every single guest who locked their eyes on you. With the long dress and perfectly styled hair, you could simply blend into the sea of guests. A person who did not work with you every day would not be able to distinguish you from a worker or potential investor. Some men seemed to keep their gaze on you for a little too long time to be considered appropriate, which you found amusing. However, unveiling the whole truth and speaking frankly - you were bored. You were extremely bored with those events and you have discovered in recent months a rather risky but effective way for passing the time. Little innocent talks with gentlemen. They were always pleasing and showering compliments. You heard a lot of stories about their miserable love life, cheating wives or unfaithful girlfriends. To some extent, you had a lot of fun listening to their monologues but part of you was telling you ”they think that you can be a perfect replacement and distraction”.
But now, you headed your steps to the waiter holding the champagne tray and took one glass, just to create an aura of warmer appearance. In darker corners of the room, you always drank with lustful sips this light liquid and swapped glasses with waiters in a discreet way. You couldn’t let yourself to be actually seen drinking champagne by your boss. However, it was encouraged to just hold it in order to make the whole event more social and less resembling a big sponsorship hunt. It soon turned out that coping with all your evening positives or nightmares was impossible for you without getting intoxicated. This made you start to suspect that someone must know your little secret, and you honestly didn't know which of your two secrets would be more awful if they went out.
You barely had time to notice that some gentleman in the near distance of two meters seemed to approach you. Smiles that you were giving out to other guests in the recent minutes were apparently encouraging him to do so. Trying to remain your mask and give him as natural appearance as possible you moved your gaze at him and welcomed by passing your hand and offering your name.
”Is my pleasure to meet you. My name is Niccolo” the man bowed slightly with respect and squeezed your hand with grace. A soft smile danced on his lips. In his words, you couldn’t sense a single note of an Italian accent in his perfect English.
He looked rather old money in his dark grey suit and perfectly plain shirt. Some expensive watch shined on his wrist and a tiny gold brooch sparkled on his suit. You quickly noticed how his sharp jaw and nose enveloped his face giving a masculine appearance. His sparkly dark eyes were looking at you quite empathetically. It was not difficult to observe that his dark bushy hair was also arranged impeccably. He was probably in his late 20s. You would be lying if you said he didn't look handsome. Elegance was beaming from him and he was undoubtedly a resemblance of every woman’s dream.
”I bet you are representing ferrari tonight? Looking at your dress” he said halfway letting out a soft chuckle.
You laughed politely at his notice.
”Actually I am. Does my covered inspection of guests give everything out?”
”Mh.. I would rather say it was the way you move around the place. With confidence and grace. Seems like you are in your element”
His words were genuinely astonishing to you. But you knew you couldn’t fall for intelligent banter.
”If I may ask to get to know about you a little more. Are the finances or something else close to your profession at ferrari?” He asked locking dark eyes on you and taking a sip of champagne.
”None of it. I don’t actually know why they insisted me on going here. I work for scuderia ferrari”
”Woman in motorsport? That is very impressive to see” He admitted
Throughout the conversation, he seemed highly professional and did not seem to ask you about any details. You were in a way surprised by the respect he paid to you by showing how equal he treated you.
It was still the bare minimum.
”I would love to learn something about you too,” you said pretending to be truly interested in conversation ”What is your purpose for tonight?”
He changed his look to a more serious yet excited one, looking as if he had been waiting for such a question.
”My family company has been working closely with ferrari for the past few months in terms of marketing. We are delighted to have this manufacturer as our client. We know that Italians see the Ferrari as the sacred thing for their culture”
”You are not Italian?” you said with a confused mimic on your face before you had time to think about it.
”Well, technically I am” he laughed seeming amused by your reaction ”but we are based in Geneva, Switzerland. It is our hometown”
”Oh I see now” you said passing a bland smile.
Another rich man who will try to make you fall in love with his money and prestige
”You really intrigued me” he said suddenly looking straight in your eyes ”I love dropping by Monaco in May to see the formula races, but I still haven’t had any opportunity to speak with someone who works in that industry. Could you tell me more about it?”
”Well” you started ”It is rough. Much more different than fancy galas and special events. It’s loud, it is chaotic and emotional. You have to think and act fast, especially if you sit in a garage like me. I am an engineer” you said faking a smile.
”I thought I couldn’t be more mesmerised by a woman tonight. I am looking up at you” he sightly laughed with astonishment and disbelief.
You sensed that someone was observing your conversation. That was when you saw him. Looking to your right at a distance of a few meters and observing you carefully with discreet, light-shot diamonds from his eyes. Without shame, he looked intently at the two of you while sipping champagne, one hand held in his pocket.
He looked annoyed, like a little brat that was taken away from his favourite toy. You know him, he acts like this when he doesn’t get what he wants. There was a slight assumption in your mind earlier that he would also be here tonight. Why wouldn't he be? He was the Ferrari star that they like to show off to sponsors.
You looked again at Niccolo and tried to act normal as the cold, unpleasant shiver ran down your back. It wasn’t caused by fear, it was anger.
”Are you alright?” your speaker turned to you snapping you out of trans.
”Yes, everything is fine” you said trying to sound convincing and passing a bland smile.
You knew that he was still looking at you.
_
You did not have to wait long till he found you and caught you near the tables with fancy appetisers. The place was much more intimate and discreet than the rest of the ballroom, allowing you to catch your breath and take a break from the business small talk. But even solitude accompanied by a single potted palm couldn’t save you from Sebastian. After catching him approaching, you averted your gaze immediately.
You didn’t have to look at him to be sure who was standing next to you. His presence, smell and movements suddenly appeared similar to you, even natural. For several seconds, he did not speak until he faced you fully and shamelessly while you were still pretending to be curious about the appetisers.
”Hmh” the unnatural sound left his throat. He seemed tensed.
You continued to ignore him by putting perfectly sliced smoked salmon with celery crunch on your plate.
”Good to see you’’ he said with more conviction in his voice slightly raising his head up.
It was becoming hardly possible to ignore him anymore. You allowed yourself to shed the last remnants of your pride and face him. A familiar sight of black steed on his chest first caught your eye, but this time it was falling up and down along with his white shirt underneath rather quickly with each of his breath. The black suit looked flawless, but he still had trouble finding the right length of pants.
”Surprised you decided to talk with me”
”Why wouldn’t I?”
”You are no longer worried about your boss's opinion now? A very important gala for the brand and here you are chatting with your engineer. Maybe he is annoyed with you at this very moment because you are more needed next to some Italian billionaire"
”You like to be bitter shatz, do you? What is wrong with talking about work in work? Don’t you think I have different intentions”
”Hm, honestly I stopped after some time when you limited your words towards me to some quick analyses after the sessions” you could see how Sebastian already opened his mouth to say something in his defence but you continued ”but now I think you just wanted me to stop talking to that man”
”Honestly, I couldn’t care less” he said full of himself, but you knew that his words were far away from being honest.
A silent treatment was given to him by you. He never was a good liar and his pride and stubbornness never made it better. You watched as he reached for one of the appetisers in front of you. This movement forced him to take his eyes off you, which he did rather willingly, and get a little closer to your left to be able to grab food.
”What did you want to discuss Herr Vettel?” After some time you went on with irony in your voice ”some problems in the sim? Or questions about new regulations-”
”What was his name?” He interrupted you and gave no interest in what you have been saying. His tone was firm yet definitely not jealous. Casually and still not looking at you, he took another bite of his appetiser. Watching how his lips sank into the food you blinked astonished. He is the only person who could deny the accusation a few moments earlier just to confirm later the obvious.
Before deciding to answer his question you took a glass of champagne that lucky was nearby.
”Niccolo? I guess. Some wealthy old money from Geneva”
”Sounds like most of them” he said looking amused ”Young, good-looking and prosperous. Did you give him your contact already?”
Sebastian was behaving mean and viciously. He knew he was stepping on thin ice and regretted the words that hung in the air.
”What kind of a woman do you take me for?” you huffed, visibly disappointed with his behaviour.
The moment of realisation hit him when the content expression was fading from his face. He genuinely looked concerned suddenly, almost scared. A lump in his throat appeared in a matter of seconds while he swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple visibly popping off.
”The wisest one, shatz” he tries saving his position like a soldier on the front losing an inevitable war. ”Don’t mind what I sa-”
”If you think you are able to sweet me up with your silly words you are mistaken Vettel” you say sharply looking straight into his eyes ”I am not a goddamn FIA”
Normally Sebastian would share a chuckle at your words but he wasn’t able to take such a risk at the moment. He just stood there with an empty mind and lack of words on his tongue, but at the very moment when you turned around and made your way towards the lavish parquet he stormed after you, your name leaving his lips in a rather jittery tone.
”Hey! Stop” his voice reaches your ears to your great dismay. You attempted to gracefully escape from him and hole up in a crowd. Dozens of lavish guests and scrumptious businessmen had become a jungle in which you tried to escape from your predator.
You were so close, that you thought you almost got it when you felt his warm hand grabbing your shoulder. Reluctantly you turned around trying to behave normally somehow. In the crowd next to all your coworkers, there was never any room for error.
”Talk to me” says Sebastian softly, his tone and mimic visibly different than from minutes ago. He took off his mask and was honestly asking you for this privilege. His hand still hasn’t left your shoulder, probably forgetting where you were or simply doing it by habit.
”Not here, Sebas-” you started sounding defeated.
”Come on” without hesitation he adjusted his grip this time grabbing your hand and directing the both of you somewhere. He didn’t care if someone saw you so he led you towards the corridors, passed bathrooms and finally reached one of the backrooms.
To his delight the doors were open and the sight of a private lodge appeared before your eyes. Sebastian was fast closing them behind and sighting deeply, standing his back to you.
”Well, what a scene” you huffed ”I thought that one in Hungary would be the last one”. The tension of the situation wasn’t in your favour which forced you to practice mockery as a coping mechanism.
”Listen,” he said his accent getting thicker ”This doesn’t work”
”Sorry?” you said bewildered frowning your brows.
German turned around slowly now facing you but still having trouble with maintaining eye contact.
”This dynamics or whatever it is”
You could feel how anger bubbled inside of you and the colour of your cheeks started to match the one of your dress.
”Yes! Because what have you been thinking while you don’t dare speak a word to me? As you play push and pull game with me around the paddock and live in the delusion of whatever is going on!” you raised your voice taking a step closer to him.
”Sorry, but I don’t quite understand what should I do? What do you expect from me? Just to pretend everything is fine and continue this?” He started to step away from his calm stance seeing your reaction.
”See? You are running from responsibility, and consequences. You act like everything is amazing and then you completely ignore me the next day, I see you in that garage and you just stare as if you see a ghost. That’s fucking heartbreaking”
Your voice sounds for a second like it is close to cracking. Sebastian is standing before you, looking at the floor as he is debating internally. You decide to say something more, something that was deep in your thoughts for a longer time.
”Why are you just so cruel and do this to me and then leave me? I don’t understand you. You leave me every time. Every time after you begged me to stay, after kissing me, making love to me. You are not decided. Why do you do this shit and then I see you flirting with other women?”
You feel burning in your eyes and you swear internally at yourself because the last thing you ever wanted to do is to show him that you care that much.
”You need to understand” Sebastian says quietly knowing that his heart is fighting with his mind. The words he is saying are unnaturally formulating on his lips, and he is feeling the weird taste of the lie he will hate afterwards. ”You are just my engineer. Nothing more”
An uncomfortable spike in your chest appears unwillingly but you don’t want to believe his words. You know he lost this war. He can be untruthful with himself but you know him too well now to not know what is the reality.
”It is not true,” you say taking the risk. He is now fully looking at you ”You are scared.”
Sebastian felt like he was sinking. His knees never felt tonight weak but suddenly, someone, made them unstable. The sound of fears spoken aloud happens to be the worst wake-up call. He swallowed hard taking a step closer to you and a weird sensation of madness appeared in his body. It was so strong that he couldn’t compare it to anything that made him angry about you earlier. It wasn’t near to that stupid argument over the strategy or the time you first time drunkenly made out at the celebration party.
”Honestly, I can’t bear you,” he said staring into your soul. He wasn’t lying, you knew he spoke the truth once you noticed his dark gaze. ”I can’t stand being in the same room with you, hearing as you speak. You cursed me.”
”Sebastian” left your lips more as a warning than a plea.
”You consumed me so much, that I had to do that. Don’t you understand? You messed up my head, you ruined me in a way nobody will fix.”
Your chest was falling up and down quickly. Suddenly, it became even harder to breathe than speak. ”Could you..” You started but his eyes were almost eating you and your bodies involuntarily got closer speaking for your thoughts. Choosing to listen to your own selfish needs that appeared in your body like an uncomfortable itch you closed the gap as your lips smashed on his. He was tensed, but as soon as it happened he started to attack your lips mercilessly. There was a lack of gentleness in his action; he was starved as you of tasting each other. Slowly taking in more air between kisses you sweetly moaned.
Sebastian grabbed your arms hardly pushing you against the marble counter standing nearly. He pressed his bodyweight into yours, gaining some stability and power in the position and shamelessly grabbed your breast, sensually yet firmly caressing it. Drowned in desire you bit his down lip hardly and felt how the man parted his lips and groaned. He always looked so beautiful as he did it. You could swear to death that nothing ever made you more full of yourself than hearing his pleasure. Soon enough you felt the taste of his blood on your teeth.
”Up for me” German said touching your thighs now.
He didn’t have to ask you twice. You willingly sat on the marble, feeling its coldness through the thin satin of your dress. He continued to kiss you, now more slowly moving his interest over the chin and neck. You threw your head back slightly hitting the mirror that was on the wall behind it. The guilt washed you weirdly mixed with overwhelming pleasure and desire. Closing your eyes you imaged how his dumb full lips would feel on your breasts. Your hands got lost in his blonde curls pulling them rather painfully.
His firm and soft palms rolled your dress up as your legs parted to make just enough space for him, you needed him closer. You felt how his interest was moved to your neck and to the forgotten necklace you wore for the night. Unexpectedly the end of his fangs grabbed it and dug into the gold harshly.
”I will buy you the one with ”S” on it,” he said under his nose more to himself than you. He was being possessive now, which normally would annoy you but now you were too lust-drunk.
His hands moved smoothly to your open back not breaking the kiss. Goosebumps welcomed you as you experienced skin-to-skin contact, Sebastian was quick to take off your spaghetti-thin straps and the satin fell exposing your breasts. Seeming very occupied with worshipping your neck he only touched them and twisted your nipple earning a high whimper from your mouth.
”That’s my girl.” he murmured against your skin.
But he was tempted for more as he a few seconds later moved his pinky lips to envelope one of your now painfully hard nipples. You let out a moan that was louder than once before, welcoming him and tugging his curls even firmer. He was the only one who could bring heaven and hell for you, purity and sin, unconsciously linking your souls through invisible string.
His soft and very much adored hands were on your hips as he kissed your sternum moving down. It felt like torture that could make you blush easily, all this intimacy was sky-rocketing with each of his movements.
”Seb” you whispered not knowing exactly what you wanted to say.
He returned to your lips, kissing them hungrily. You felt a spark of energy and decided to put your hands to use. They landed on his shoulders taking off the jacket and loosing up a tie in blind movements. He quickly got your idea and added his pair of hands to help you. Soon his shirt was loose, with a few undone top buttons.
You tried desperately to bring him even closer and place sweet kisses on his lips again. Moving them down you peppered with kisses properly his jaw until you reached his neck. Feeling all dominant all of sudden you sucked his skin, biting gently. A shaky groan left his throat as you let out his skin with a wet pop. Your masterpiece was done - red marking showing that Vettel is not such available as it may appear to women.
He took a few seconds to look at you. His eyes were now in deep ocean blue mirroring your body impatiently. His movements were yet controlled, and his hands again found their way on your thighs but you felt like he was winning at this game.
”Sebastian, could you just fuck me” a whine left your lips. You were done.
Normally if he was cruel, he would just chuckle and mock how needy you are for him. He would show his infamous half-smile and take pleasure in it. But he was far from fucking it up this time, again. He wanted it to be serious, he wanted it to be the time.
That was a moment Sebastian Vettel promised himself to ruin all men for you.
”Schatz” he said lowly, kissing your face again ”Schatz, Schatz, Schatz. Anytime”
He didn’t hesitate unbuckling his belt and to get his semi-hard manhood on display. He gave it a few strokes and looked for the condom, he knew he had somewhere in his pocket. You didn’t give a second thought why he came to the gala with protection, trying to push out any feelings of uncomfortable jealousy it could give, you wanted him too much to worry about it now.
Positioning himself you moved a bit on a counter, and soon with a feeling of him being inside you both gasped. He started to move putting his hands on your hips as your legs enveloped his waist.
You would lie if the feeling of him wasn’t addictive. It was too addictive. It shuttered your world to pieces and made it an eden at the same time, leaving you longing, wishing that he could be more than just an undefined sex partner. The labels have never been put on, and this to much of your dismay itch you a bit.
Oh but you know it wasn’t just sex. Oh, it wasn’t
Sebastian was more and more confident and adjusted to your walls as he began to thrust deeper, faster. It was purely erotic as he was able to create sweet moans coming from your mouth. He got closer kissing you shortly before placing his head near your shoulder and erratically breathing right in your ear.
It felt too intimate, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care as the furniture gave a little sound with your movements. You didn’t care about the probability of half of Ferrari looking for you right now at the ballroom. You only heard husky ”I missed that”, ”you take me so well” and ”show me how much I do you right shatz” praised right next to your ear.
It was getting sloppy. Your skin and clothing started to get sticky to each other, your breathing pattern was irregular and you weren’t so quiet anymore. Sebastian's movements were more and more firm now, taking you right, fuc- making love to you properly.
”Schatz. fuck. You are- ” you really wanted to listen to him but your head was feeling dizzy. ”You are mine. Never fucking again I will leave you”
”Oh, Seb” You started to cry, You weren’t sure if it were emotions anymore, pleasure or just the sense of relief.
Sensing you were close to German placed his thumb on your clit rubbing it in a circular motion.
”For me? Come for me pretty” he begged trying to kiss you but missing greatly due to his fast thrusts.
The orgasm hit you shortly causing your back to arch and again banging your head by the mirror. Warm pleasure taking over the control of your body felt better than you last remembered. Him being with you, doing this to you was your sweetest curse.
His movements got more irregular and soon he groaned lowly spending himself and kissing you again hotly. The image of his closed eyes and open mouth was undoubtedly an underrated artwork you could admire the whole day, and do everything to see it again and again. You both were going back from your high, catching your breath.
You wish it was simpler, you wish you weren’t coworkers. You wish he could see you the same way and don’t break your heart by confusing you.
”Seb?” you whispered gaining his all attention and eyes on you.
He didn’t say a word just stared patiently at your flushed and wet cheeks.
”I shouldn’t be wanting you”
”Why?” He asked confused frowning his brows, which quite didn’t match his blue angelic eyes.
”If we weren’t in such dynamics it would be easier. I just- it is wrong. It makes me feel bad and guilty” you confessed ”and so tired and confused fighting with you.”
Resisting too.
He hesitated for a moment, his hands gently stroked your back.
”If you think of the reaction of others, well I would lie if I said we should fuck them. But remember, it is about you. You make decisions about your own life. You cannot just live and be people pleaser all the time. You believe you are doing something wrong because someone told you it must be, we cannot choose what we like, can we?”
”Or we love,” you said without thinking.
Sebastian looked at you with visible terror in his eyes. It was not supposed ever to leave your lips.
”Don’t play with me” he said quietly resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes.
You kissed him and stroked his hair gently. It was in mess now, the strands of hair falling on the warm forehead were wet from sweat.
”Please, you can- may, continue, Sebastian”
”I think” he started with a puzzled expression ”that we just fucked a couple of minutes ago”
”Again, please” you looked at him sadly ”I don’t want to leave, go back to those people. I want to stay with you”
Stay with you for eternity. I missed the feeling of being in your arms,
I wish I could never leave them.
You thought but you had enough sanity not to say.
Could you write something for cl16 where it’s Halloween and they do Gomez and morticia couples costumes. Love your work
CL16 — death and kisses
ty so much for the resqust! sorry if I made any mistake, english is not my first language
You were sitting on your desk trying to make the best smoky eye of your life, already dressed with your long black dress you were feeling kinda nervous. The high heels, the party, and being there with Charles.
It hadn't been long since you two started dating. And this type of thing was kind of a new experience.
“ Mon cœuer! Are you ready ” Charles exclaimed from the bathroom. He opened the door with his suit and sword posing “ Because I am ”
You laughed watching him by the mirror.
“ Well, look at you. Very very charming, Charles ” You smiled trying to not move too much. Your boyfriend got close to you with slow steps, staying at your side. He didn't say anything and you stared at the mirror. “What? Something is wrong?
Charles denied it with his head.
“ You look delightful dear ” You tried to hide the pink in your cheeks at his words. Charles couldn't stop watching your face and you, all of you. His heart started racing and he was hoping all the time that you could know how he felt about you. “ One day you’re going to kill me, mon cœur”
You smiled at him, putting down the brush.
“ Oh, really? ”
Charles returned the smile sitting with you.
“ It would be my pleasure to die for you, dear” He murmured against your lips. It took you a moment to crash their lips together in a slow kiss, Charles He slid his hand down your bare back until he reached your waist.
“ Your acting is very good, love” you said when the kiss broke with your breaths mixing.
“ There is no acting, everything is about you”
09. Alguno se enferma
' ao3 — '
Naeve sin duda estaba feliz cuando Kylo volvió de la misión a salvo, era pleno invierno e incluso con las mejores ropas sabía lo peligroso que era estar al descubierto por semanas. En la noche del reencuentro, durmieron calentitos y cómodos en su cama, disfrutando de la presencia del otro. En la madrugada, Naeve empezó a sentir calor en lo que se estaba apoyando, se despertó confundida y lo primero que vio fue el cuerpo de Kylo semidesnudo lleno de sudor. Aun estaba incociente, asi que saco los mechones de pelo negro que caian en la frente del soldado y apoyo su palma ahi, notando la alta temperatura que su cuerpo tenia.
Antes de salir de la habitación, tapó con las mantas el cuerpo de Kylo. Se dirigió hacia la sala de curación del castillo, agarrando algunas hierbas y paños, y pasando por la cocina donde los primeros cocineros estabas preperando el desayuno y muy amablemente les pidió si podrían calentarle agua y hacer sopa.
—Oh, ¿La señora Naeve cree que está por enfermarse?—preguntó preocupado el chef principal—Este invierno está siendo muy duro.
Naeve sacudió su mano y negó.
—No es para mi, gracias por la preocupación—agarro un set de té y la lleno con el agua hirviendo—Kylo tiene fiebre, así que por favor, cuando la sopa esté lista llevenla a la habitación.
Todos en la cocina se quedaron en silencio y solo hicieron una reverencia cuando Naeve salió con la bandeja y los paños tibios. En realidad, era la primera vez que escuchaban que el Señor estuviera enfermo. Cuando Naeve volvió a la habitación, Kylo estaba saliendo de la cama con las rodillas flaqueando.
—Kylo, ¿qué estas haciendo?—Naeve pregunto alarmada, apoyo la bandeja en la mesa mas proxima y a pasos rápidos invadió el espacio personal de Kylo, empujando suavemente el pecho del pelinegro para que volviera a sentarse—claro que él había cedido, porque si quisiera no se movería ni un centímetro, incluso en su condición.
—¿A dónde fuiste?—cuestiono Kylo levantando la mirada.
—A buscar paños y agua caliente.
—No vuelvas irte mientras duermo, porfavor—pidio Kylo apoyando su cabeza en el cuerpo de Naeve.
—Tienes fiebre, no quería levantarte—explico—Ahora, ya sabes que estoy bien, vamos, vuelve acostarte, debes descansar muy bien.
Kylo pareció reacio a esto aunque simplemente se dejó tapar por las mantas.
—No quiero descansar, quiero estar contigo.
—Estas conmigo, mi amor—rio Naeve apoyando el paño en la frente del soldado.
—Lo sé—murmuró Kylo cerrando los ojos—Quiero abrazarte y levantantarte, caminar por el jardín.
—Cuando te mejores y las temperaturas sean cálidas iremos al jardin, mientras tanto te ofrezco mi amor a corta distancia—ofreció Naeve entrelazando sus dedos con los de Kylo—Mas pronto te recuperes, mas pronto me tendrás besandote.
White Noise | MV1
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: [Soulmate AU] In a world where soulmate marks promise connection, one person’s endless wait collides with another’s relentless pursuit of a life beyond destiny.
Warning(s): Mild Language, angst, hurt/comfort for like a small bit, fluff, for like tiny moment. Basically, they finally talk. Alternating povs.
Part 4 ~Series Masterlist~
"I've been the archer, I've been the prey, Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling?....But who could stay?"
Y/N's heart was racing, pounding in her chest like a drum, each beat reverberating through her entire body.
The moment she had stepped into the room, she felt it—the unmistakable pull, the presence of him. Her soul’s reaction was instantaneous, a thrumming sensation deep within her, filling the hollow space that had plagued her for as long as she could remember.
The pulse, the ringing in her ears, it was all him.
But this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this.
She had always thought, somehow, that she would be prepared for this moment, where she would have to finally confront him, but standing in the midst of a crowded party, the weight of everything crashing down on her, she wasn’t ready.
The memories of Bahrain flooded her mind—the first time she had felt it, the moment her heart had surged with desperation. But it had been too much.
She had run then, and now, she was running again.
Her feet carried her forward without her consent, an instinct she couldn’t stop. She had made it to the hallway, the coolness of the air helping to clear her head, but she knew, deep down, that he was following.
She could hear his footsteps, his voice rising above the noise of the party.
"Wait!"
His shout cut through her thoughts, piercing the air with urgency. His voice—his tone—was enough to make her stumble, her heart skipping, the sound of it thrumming in her chest, drowning everything else out.
"Stop, please."
The pleading, desperate tone sent a sharp tremor through her. She couldn’t explain why, but it was like an invisible thread pulling at her, urging her to turn around.
Her body seemed to act on its own, and before she could think, she was facing him, standing there in the hallway, his figure illuminated by the soft lights behind him.
Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze met his. His eyes were wide, searching—no, desperate, as he took a step closer, his presence magnetic, impossible to ignore.
He was right there. So close. Yet, the distance between them felt like an entire universe.
"Please, just let me talk to you. Once. Please."
The sincerity in his voice was enough to steal the air from her lungs.
She had tried so hard to block out the pull, the ache deep inside of her, but hearing that one word—please—it undid everything.
It made her pause, made her stand still. It was as though the universe had stopped just for this moment, just for him to speak those words, those two simple syllables that somehow held the weight of a thousand unspoken things.
For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. The bond, the overwhelming pull of their connection, was like a storm inside her.
She could feel her pulse in every part of her body, an unbearable rhythm that matched the frantic thrum of her thoughts.
Why is this happening now?
The question spun in her mind, but she didn’t have the answers. She didn’t want to have the answers. Not yet. Not when she had worked so hard to push this all away.
But as his eyes searched hers, she realized there was no denying it anymore. She couldn’t pretend anymore.
He was here, in front of her, and that was something she had to face.
This isn’t a game, her mind whispered to her. This is real.
She swallowed, trying to steady her breath, but her heart wouldn’t let her. The sound of it, so loud, so clear in her ears, only seemed to grow louder the longer she stood there, staring at him.
He took a cautious step forward, as though unsure whether to approach or wait for her permission.
Y/N could see the hesitation in his posture, the way his muscles were tense, ready to react to whatever she might do next.
She nodded almost imperceptibly, a gesture that was barely there but enough to give him the signal.
Slowly, she turned and began walking down the hallway, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors.
She heard his footsteps behind her, closer now, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in her chest.
She wasn’t sure if it was because of the bond or the weight of the moment, but it felt as though the air around her was thickening, pressing down on her, making it harder to breathe.
The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, but Y/N didn’t stop walking until she reached a door at the far end, a small storage room that had been used to store event supplies. It was tucked away from the bustling party, isolated, quiet—perfect for what needed to happen next.
Without looking back, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, boxes and supplies stacked haphazardly against the walls. The space smelled faintly of cardboard and dust, but Y/N didn’t care. She needed this isolation. She needed to clear her head, even if just for a moment.
The door clicked shut behind her, and she finally turned to face him.
Max stood just inside the doorway, his hand on the handle as if he was still unsure whether to cross the threshold completely. His expression was a mix of determination and uncertainty, and she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, like it was pulling at her from all directions.
He stepped forward then, his presence filling the small space between them.
Her eyes flickered to him, then quickly down to the floor. She couldn’t meet his gaze for too long, not yet. Not when she was still so terrified of what this meant.
Max didn’t speak right away. He just stood there, close but still holding back, waiting for her to say something, to give him some sort of sign that she was ready to talk.
But all she could do was breathe—deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm herself down. The pulse in her chest was almost deafening. She knew that she had to speak, there was no turning back now.
But still, she hesitated.
Max shifted on his feet, the tension in his posture thick, as if he was about to break, but he held himself together—barely. His fingers were twitching at his sides, and he felt the hum deep in his chest, a gnawing ache that wouldn’t subside.
He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy silence like a crack in a wall. "Max," he said, his voice rough, but it wasn’t the authoritative tone he used in the paddock, or the smooth calm of someone used to dealing with media.
This was Max—vulnerable, unsure. The kind of Max who didn’t often show himself.
"Max Verstappen," he added, as though his name should mean something, though he already knew it wouldn’t. Not with the way she ran from him.
Y/N didn’t react, not right away. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, her arms crossed over her chest, a protective shield she had built up over the years and didn’t dare lower. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she did.
Max couldn’t help himself; he took a step closer, the pull drawing him forward as though the space between them was shrinking. But she didn’t move, her gaze still locked downward, her posture as stiff as steel.
"I don’t bite," he added with a half-smile, though it was strained, the humor barely there. He tried to make light of it, but it wasn’t working. The tension was too thick, the pulse between them too strong, too loud in his ears.
She remained silent, the words staying on the tip of her tongue. Why was he still here? Why couldn’t he leave her be?
He pressed on, the silence growing unbearable. His frustration was creeping in, and he didn’t bother hiding it. "You’re not gonna run again, are you? I don’t know what the hell happened back there, but this..." He gestured between them, his hands opening slightly, his frustration flaring.
"This can’t be a mistake. I felt it, and I know you did too." His words came out blunt, as direct as he could manage, with no filters, no hesitation.
Y/N’s lips pressed together, and she took in a slow breath, but the words didn’t come. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she was allowed to say anything.
She could feel the pulsing, the hum, the ache in her bones, her chest, her heart. It was all him. But how could she acknowledge it?
"Why did you run?" Max’s voice cracked just slightly as he asked, the vulnerability that he rarely showed slipping through.
He didn’t wait for an answer, though. He knew. He felt it.
"You think I’m just some guy in a hotel room, shaking hands with sponsors, a guy who just races for a living, and that’s all I am? You think that’s all I can be?" His voice softened, but the frustration was still there, curling around his words like smoke. "I don’t even know your name, but I can’t... I can’t just let you run away again."
Y/N’s breath hitched at his words. There was a bite in his voice now, a quiet hurt that she couldn’t ignore. It stung, sharp and unexpected.
Max took another step, his eyes locking on hers, desperate for something—anything—that would help him understand this.
But all he found was cold, detached silence. It was like hitting a wall, and yet, somehow, that wall was cracking, just a little, with each second that passed. He could feel it in his chest, in the air between them.
"Are you just going to stay silent?" he asked, frustration giving way to a tinge of sadness.
"Is that how you’re going to play this? Because I can’t stand it. I want us to talk, to figure this out, I've waited so long. I—" He stopped, realizing how much he was saying, how exposed he had become. He had never been this open with anyone. Not like this.
Y/N’s gaze flicked up then, just briefly, her eyes meeting his. The connection between them flickered, a brief, sharp spark that ignited everything inside him. She was silent, but in her eyes, he saw something.
Fear. Anger. And beneath that, a thread of longing—a recognition.
“I’m not going to run,” she finally said, her voice firm, but with a quiver beneath the surface. Her words were clipped, like they were hard to get out, like they didn’t fit the situation.
She had never been good at this. At feeling things, at letting herself feel things that weren’t controlled. But here she was. Here.
Max’s expression softened, but only just. He could see through her, even if she tried to hide it. He could see the cracks in her facade, the way she was breaking just a little with every word, every silence.
“Then what are you going to do?” he asked, almost desperate now. He stepped closer again, close enough that the hum between them seemed to pulse with an intensity that made his heart race.
He could feel the gravity between them, the pull, the ache. And it was growing. She was so close—so close but still, so far.
She met his gaze fully now, the stone wall that she’d built around herself finally starting to crumble, piece by piece. The look in her eyes was something Max had never seen before—not in the paddock, not in the chaos of the races, not in the heat of victory. This was something else.
______________________________
Max’s eyes were still on her, searching for something, maybe an answer that would make sense of all the chaos inside her, but there was no easy way to explain this. No way to simplify what had become a tangled mess of emotions and realities.
She couldn't make this easy for him. She knew that, deep down. But it didn’t make the truth any less painful.
"I know you, Max," she started, her voice quiet but steady, though every word felt like it was scraping against her throat. "I know what you’ve worked for. The way people look at you, the expectations, the pressure."
Her chest tightened with the weight of her thoughts, and she couldn’t look away from him, even though she wanted to. “You’ve been built for this life. Racing, winning, being the best. You’ve been molded for the world you live in, Max. And you’ve made it, you’ve fucking made it. I see that. I admire it. I admire you."
She closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump that had lodged in her throat, feeling the bitter taste of regret already creeping in. "But you don’t understand. I can’t be a part of it. Not with you."
Max flinched slightly, and she could see the hurt flash across his face. She wasn’t trying to hurt him, but it was inevitable. There was no way around it. Her words cut deeper than she intended.
"I know the Max Verstappen the world sees.” She swallowed, her throat tight. “But I don’t know you. Not the man standing in front of me. Not the man who is supposed to be my soulmate.”
Max inhaled sharply, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for her. But he didn’t. Not yet.
“I waited for you too, you know?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cracked under the weight of the words. “For years, I waited. At first, it was hope. Every birthday, every trip, every new place—I looked for you. I searched for something, anything, that could mean you were close. And then… hope turned into anger. Because you weren’t there. And I was supposed to be okay with that?” She shook her head. “I was supposed to live my life knowing the person meant for me was out there but nowhere near me?”
Max’s jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek twitching.
“And then the anger faded too. And all that was left was... indifference.” She met his gaze then, unwavering.
“Because I had to move on. I had to build something for myself. I had to be enough for myself. For me”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “And I did it. I built a life, Max. A life that didn’t need a soulmate to feel complete. A life that I carved out with my own two hands, while people pitied me for never finding you. While they whispered that I would never be whole.” Her voice hardened.
“But I proved them wrong. I am whole. I have my business. My work. A life that makes sense, a life that I control.”
Her hands trembled again, and this time she didn’t bother hiding them. She looked at him, at the storm in his eyes, at the way his lips pressed into a thin line, at the way he was fighting—really fighting—not to interrupt her.
“And now, suddenly, you’re here.” Her voice was raw now, like it had been scraped against glass. “Just when I finally have a grasp on everything, you appear and you expect me to throw all of it away? Just because the fucking universe says we’re meant to be?”
Max flinched, just barely.
“How do you know we’ll make it, Max?” She demanded. “You race. I work. You live in the spotlight, I built my life in the shadows. You chase adrenaline, I crave steadiness. Our lives are nothing alike.” She exhaled, her breath shaky. “And then there’s the fans. The media. The circus that follows you wherever you go. How am I supposed to handle that? How do we fit, Max? How can we?”
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
She licked her lips, voice quieter now. “I’ve spent my whole life proving that I don’t need another person to be whole. That I don’t need someone to complete me. And now you’re asking me to risk all of that… for the idea of you?”
She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. “How am I supposed to do that?”
Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. She could see it in his face—the hurt, the frustration, the determination.
____________________________
Max let the silence stretch, let her words settle deep in his bones. He felt each one like a weight pressing against his ribs—sharp, heavy, relentless. But he didn’t move, didn’t waver.
Because she was here. Because she hadn’t run.
And because she was wrong.
His voice, when it came, was quiet but steady. “You say you don’t know me. And you don’t.” His gaze was unwavering. “But I don’t know you either.”
Her breath caught.
“And yet,” Max continued, taking a slow step closer, “I do.”
She tensed, but she didn’t retreat.
“I know how you walked into that room, completely composed, completely in control—until you saw me. I know the exact second you felt it, the moment the ground tilted under your feet, the way your eyes widened, just a fraction, before you turned and.. left.” His tone was measured, deliberate. “I know you’re standing here right now because you want to be, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Her fingers twitched by her sides, barely perceptible.
Max took a step forward, slow, measured, like approaching something fragile. “You talk about waiting for me, about searching for me, about how hope turned into anger, then nothing at all.” His voice hardened. “Do you think I don’t understand that? Do you think I didn’t feel the same fucking thing?”
She inhaled sharply.
“I grew up knowing I had someone out there. Someone I was supposed to find. And I hated it.” His jaw tensed. “Because how the hell was I supposed to look for someone when my entire life was planned before I could even fucking walk?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “I didn’t have time to search, Y/N. I didn’t have the luxury. I had racing. I had pressure. I had expectations so heavy they nearly crushed me before I was old enough to understand them. I was too busy proving I deserved to be where I was.” His voice turned rough, honest. “And I did it alone.”
“You say I wasn’t there for any of it.” His voice lowered.
“Neither were you.”
She flinched and Max felt his heart break a little.
His tone softened. “You don’t know if we’re meant to be together, and you know what? Maybe we’re not.” He shrugged.
“Maybe we’ll fucking hate each other. Maybe you’ll get sick of me in a month, and I’ll drive you insane. But we don’t know that.” He exhaled. “What we do know is that this is real. It's in our bones, inked on our fucking skin, in the way our hearts have been beating for years, this bond—this is real.”
Silence.
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, wanted to deny it, but no words came out.
Max studied her, eyes searching. “You think this is going to destroy the life you built.” A beat of silence. “Maybe it will.”
Her head snapped up, eyes flashing, but he wasn’t done.
“Or maybe it’ll make it better.” His voice was quiet, but sure. “Maybe you’ll finally let yourself have something that isn’t just work, something that isn’t just proving yourself over and over again to people who don’t matter."
He held her gaze, unwavering. "The truth is, no one knows how this will work. There’s no plan for this. No blueprint. But that doesn’t mean we walk away.”
Her eyes burned into his, searching, dissecting.
Max took a final step closer, his voice barely above a whisper now. “That doesn't mean we have to give up our chance—our realest fucking chance to be happy, I'm not asking you to throw your life away for me” He shook his head. “I want you to let me be part of it.”
Something cracked in her gaze.
________________________
The tear catches her by surprise.
She feels it before she registers it, the slow slide of warmth trailing down her cheek, an undeniable crack in the armor she had spent years perfecting.
And then—Max is there.
His hand moves before he thinks, his thumb brushing against her skin, wiping it away. The touch is featherlight, a whisper of warmth against her cheek—
And the bond pulses.
Loud. Violent. Consuming.
A shockwave of something unseen, something ancient, something theirs rips through them, and the force of it takes them both down.
Y/N stumbles, her knees buckling, but she never hits the floor.
Max is there—solid, unyielding, his reflexes faster than thought.
His arms catch her, cradle her, steady her as they both collapse onto the cold, dusty floor of the storage room.
And then—silence.
It isn’t tense. It isn’t heavy. It just is.
Her head rests against his chest, the rapid beat of his heart a perfect mirror to her own. His arms are around her, firm but careful, holding her close in a way that feels like he’s meant to.
And the bond—the bond hums.
Not a pulse, not a roar, just a steady, gentle hum. A soundless lullaby. A sigh of relief.
Y/N exhales, her breath ghosting over his suit, and for the first time in her life, she feels content. She doesn’t think. She doesn’t fight it.
She just is.
Her body curls instinctively into his, her forehead pressing against his chest, her fingers gripping lightly at his jacket as she burrows closer. It’s unconscious, inevitable. A pull she can’t deny.
Max feels it too.
His hold tightens, his grip shifting just slightly as he tucks her in closer. His heartbeat steadies, aligning with hers. His breath slows. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move—just holds her, lets her be held.
And in that moment, on the cold, dirty floor of some forgotten storage room, Max Verstappen knows exactly what paradise feels like.
Then—
The illusion shatters.
Y/N’s eyes snap open. The warmth turns to ice in an instant, her body going rigid against his.
Max feels the shift the moment it happens. The way she stiffens, the way her breath hitches like she’s just remembered something terrible.
And then—she pulls away.
Like she can’t get away fast enough.
Max feels it like a physical blow.
She scrambles to her feet, her movements sharp, almost frantic, as she wrangles her hands together, fingers twisting against each other—a nervous tic, he realizes. An anxiety response.
He gets up slower, brushing dust from his sleeves, forcing his breath to stay even, forcing himself to stay.
Silence stretches between them.
This time, it isn’t peaceful.
This time, it’s awkward. Tense. Something lingering between them, something neither of them can name, something neither of them can face.
Y/N is the first to break it.
Her voice is quiet, but firm. “Time, Max.”
A pause.
“I need time.”
And then she turns, and walks away.
Max is left standing there.
The hum in his chest—so loud, so certain just moments ago—fades into something hollow, something aching.
She’s gone.
The warmth of her body, the perfect way she fit against him, the peace he had never known—ripped away as if it had never been real.
He lets out a breath, slow and shaky, like he’s trying to steady himself on the edge of something devastating.
He had her.
For a second, for a fleeting, impossible moment, Max Verstappen had everything.
And now—
Now, he has nothing.
________________________________________
Thank you for reading!
If you liked this part, please leave a like a comment and a reblog!
Well, well, well, what do you think is going to happen next? This took out alot from me. I'm the type of woman who feels that I don't need a man to complete me. And yet, I yearn for love so much, that it hurts. So maybe I'm pouring a bit of myself into this. I can only hope that you all like it.
Jules♡
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Can u pls write a Sebastian x reader where even she is a driver and they take turns taking each other on hot laps and reader has more titles than seb so she teases him that she is the better driver
SV5 ★ better driver
★ thx for the request, it was super fun to write. sorry if its too short. ★ Sebastian Vettel x FemaleDriver!Reader
There were rare moments when Seb and you would talk about racing. probably you two talked more about the carrots growing in your garden than about the championship. In your intimacy, you two rarely felt like racers since in privacy you were just a couple talking about books, their garden, politics without differentiating themselves too much from other couples (just a few championships on your shoulders).
However, today was different. The night before you and Seb had fallen asleep in your hotel room while watching your previous championships, making your egos sky high as soon as the day began. Competitiveness was the main theme; who brushed their teeth the fastest (it was you), who made the best coffee (Seb according to your colleagues), and the competitions continued to increase until it got to the critical point that really mattered. Races. You started by warming up the tires, slow and Seb looked at you in the rearview mirror. He advanced first. And when his first lap was about to end, you started up.
His first number was good but you knew he was going to improve as the track was still cold. Your first lap was not your best and you could not overcome him, you slightly hit the steering wheel. Imagining Seb's cocky smile only made you feel more ambitious to beat him. Feeling the pressure of speed in your body could not match the tingles of happiness that invaded your body when you beat his record. It was almost an hour in which you were outdoing each other and when you finished the sun was setting. The tips of your lips lifted when you saw him take off his helmet. Both of your hair was wet with sweat and Seb pressed his lips together when he saw you approaching. You had won the last lap by almost a second of difference with him and although he was annoyed, deep down he enjoyed seeing you win.
You pulled your racing suits down to your waists and drank water as you tried to pull yourselves together. You looked sideways at Seb and he was already looking at you, your cheeks turned pink but you quickly recovered your normal state.
“Seb I know you tried hard today” you paused to smile “but I think at the end of the day, I'm better.”
The silence after your statement was broken by your partner's laughter.
“Don't laugh, it's true,” you exclaimed as you pushed him, “I won today, not only in the race but also in everything else!”.
Suddenly, Seb became serious and slid his hand around your waist, your throat went dry and the heat on your face returned.
“You're right liebling, you're better” Seb left a kiss on your cheek and as soon as he moved away from your skin he added “However, you can never beat me at...Flirting with you”.
Seb's smile dominated your head but when the meaning of his words came to your understanding, you pushed him back. But you couldn't deny it, it was true. Seb always made you feel nervous. That was love.
searching red bull outfits inspo just beacuse maybe I really buy the rb cap for my birthday
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