Balcony, Bets, and Best Friends: As the assistant cinematographer you find yourself in an unexpected friendship with the lead actor. During the wrap party, feelings come forward. [3.5k] (friends to lovers)
Enchanted: After befriending Enzo, you both agree to enter a PR relationship. However, as time passes, the lines between pretense and reality blur, making it increasingly challenging to maintain the facade. [7-part series]
Matías Recalt
I wish I knew: When you admit to a past crush, Matías grapples with buried emotions. [4.1k] (childhood (enemies to) friends to lovers)
Esteban Kukuriczka
Wistfulness: 5 times you watch him kiss someone + 1 time he kisses you. [4.8k] (childhood friends to lovers)
In another lifetime: Esteban gets ready to say goodbye to you. [1.2k] (angst)
Bruises and Butterflies: "Who did this to you?" [3.9k] (friends to lovers)
Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (angst), medical inaccuracies, mention of bruises, stubborn reader
A/N: This is all you're getting for the synopsis hehe. This fic is inspired by one scene from the book "All Rhodes Lead Here" by Mariana Zapata (one of my all-time fav books) and by this wonderful Luke Alvez fic by @thelukesalvez
Masterlist
You grimaced as you examined your reflection in the mirror, the bruise around your eye stark against your skin. It was still inflamed and angry, a painful reminder of what had transpired. With a heavy sigh, you hovered your fingers over the tender skin, wincing at the slightest touch, the ache radiating through your skull. Gingerly, you reached for the ice pack resting on the edge of the sink, pressing it gently against the swollen area in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort.
Self-reproach flooded your thoughts as you replayed the events that led to your current predicament. It was just your luck to end up like this, nursing bruises and regrets on what should have been a great evening.
The idea of venturing out tonight seemed daunting, knowing the inevitable onslaught of questions and sympathetic stares that would follow. As much as you longed for a distraction from your thoughts, the last thing you wanted was to recount the embarrassing tale of how you wound up with a shiner.
As you weighed your options, the reality of the situation settled heavily upon you. You acknowledged the futility of attempting to mask the bruise with makeup. The thought of bothering Paloma, the talented makeup artist for the movie, briefly crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed it. This wasn't an emergency, and you didn't want to impose on her time with such a trivial matter. You conceded defeat, acknowledging that tonight was simply not meant to be.
Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you navigated to the group chat with a heavy heart. Disappointment washed over you as you began typing, your fingers tapping out the message that would effectively cancel your plans for the evening. Despite the anticipation that had built up over the past few days, one glance in the bathroom mirror had made your decision painfully clear.
Y: Hey, I have to sit tonight out. I'm not feeling too well. Think I'm coming down with something. But I hope you guys have fun! Not too much without me though.
You hit send, a pang of guilt accompanying the action. Almost immediately, responses flooded in from your friends.
Alfonsina: Oh, get well soon!
Simón: Hope you feel better soon.
Matías: Get well soon. I'm drinking for you tonight.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips at Matías' playful remark, grateful for the warmth and camaraderie of your friends. With a few swift taps on your phone screen, you replied to each of them, expressing your gratitude for their well-wishes.
Being an assistant operator on the set of "La sociedad de la nieve" had not only provided you with valuable experience but also unexpectedly brought you into the camaraderie of the movie's cast and crew.
Your job as an assistant operator primarily revolved around ensuring the seamless functioning of the camera equipment and making sure that Bayona's vision was captured effectively. It entailed being on set every day, ready to assist with anything behind the camera. But more than just a job, it provided you with a dynamic environment where no two days were alike.
Through your work, you had the privilege of crossing paths with a multitude of remarkable individuals, but one person, in particular, occupied a special place in your thoughts. Esteban Kukuriczka, with his unruly hair, distinctive nose, and warm smile, had seamlessly woven himself into the fabric of your life during the filming process.
Your connection with Esteban extended beyond the confines of the movie set; it was rooted in shared experiences and mutual respect. Your history with him stretched back further than the current project. Two years ago, you had crossed paths during a theater production where he had taken on a leading role. Though your interactions had been brief, the impression he left on you was indelible, igniting a spark of curiosity and admiration that had only grown over time.
The revelation of Esteban's involvement in the project had caught you off guard, to say the least. As you had scanned the call sheet on the first day of "La sociedad de la nieve," seeing his name among the cast was a delightful surprise. And when he approached you, questioning if you remembered him, it felt like a serendipitous reunion that was meant to be.
Esteban had a knack for making you feel at ease, effortlessly weaving himself into the fabric of your daily routines on set. Whether it was sharing a laugh over your corny jokes or ensuring you stayed hydrated during the chaos of filming, his presence was a constant source of comfort and support. He had a way of making you feel seen and valued in a way no one else ever had. In many ways, he became the glue that bound you to the rest of the cast, seamlessly integrating you into their tight-knit circle.
But amidst the camaraderie and shared moments, a subtle shift had occurred—a shift that left you grappling with feelings you had never anticipated. Somewhere along the way, amidst the hustle and bustle of the film set, you had developed a crush on Esteban. It was a realization that both thrilled and terrified you. After all, you and Esteban were friends, and crossing that line into something more felt daunting and unprofessional. Yet, in the depths of your heart, you couldn't deny the warmth and affection that blossomed whenever you were in his presence.
As you scrolled through your phone, the absence of a message from Esteban gnawed at you, though you tried to brush it off. He was likely caught up in the excitement of the planned night out. After all, it was Thursday evening, and the cast and crew had been eagerly anticipating this outing for days. With an unusual three-day weekend looming, the plan was to hit up some bars and clubs to celebrate being halfway through shooting.
But for you, the evening held a different fate. With your plans scuttled by the bruise on your face, you resigned yourself to a quiet night in. You tidied away the first aid kit and wandered into the kitchen, only to find it lacking in the essentials. A pang of annoyance prickled at the edges of your mind—perhaps you should have made a grocery run earlier. With a shrug, you resigned yourself to the inevitable and reached for your phone to order some takeout.
After placing your order with the familiar Thai restaurant you frequented, you settled onto the couch, opting for a classic romantic comedy to pass the time. The familiar banter and lighthearted plot provided a comforting backdrop as you awaited your meal. Just 15 minutes later, the doorbell chimed, prompting you to fetch your wallet and stride to the entrance, ready to collect your food. However, as you swung the door open, you were met with a surprising sight.
"Hey, how are y–" Esteban stood before you, a cheerful greeting on his lips quickly replaced by a look of concern as his gaze swept over your face.
Confusion etched across your features as you met his frantic gaze. "Hi, what are you doing here?" you asked, though warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of him.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, his tone urgent and tinged with worry.
"What?" you responded, taken aback by his sudden question.
Esteban's brows furrowed in concern, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. "Who did this to you? You can tell me," he pressed gently, his voice laced with worry.
You paused, momentarily puzzled by his urgency, before realizing what had prompted his concern. "Oh, no one, Esteban. It was just an accident," you reassured him.
But Esteban remained unconvinced, his expression hardening as he glanced over your shoulder around the apartment. "Is someone here? Do I need to call the police?" he asked, his gaze darting around the space as if expecting an intruder.
You shook your head, quickly moving to dispel his suspicions. "No, no, please don't," you urged, stepping aside to reveal the empty apartment behind you. "There's no one here, and nobody hit me. It's really not what you think," you explained, hoping to alleviate his concerns.
His eyes softened with understanding as he stepped into your apartment, scanning the space for any signs of trouble before his gaze finally settled on you. "What happened?" he inquired, his voice softer now as he focused his attention on you.
You felt a flush of embarrassment rising to your cheeks. "Don't laugh. It's embarrassing. But long story short, I dropped a box on my face, and it landed right on my eye," you admitted, hoping he wouldn't find the situation too ridiculous.
Esteban's expression shifted from concern to incredulity as he processed your explanation. "You dropped a box on yourself?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.
With a nod, you confirmed, "Yep."
Closing the distance between you, Esteban gently placed a hand on your arm, his touch warm and reassuring. "Who? Give me a name, and I'll handle it," he offered, his voice tinged with determination.
Your shoulders sagged at the persistence of his questioning, and you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. "There's no name to give, Esteban. I swear. That's really what happened," you insisted, hoping he would believe your explanation.
You closed your eyes and rubbed at your forehead, seeking relief from the dull ache that throbbed there, only to feel a wetness at your fingertips. Startled, you glanced down to find a small amount of blood staining your skin.
"Shit," you mumbled under your breath, cursing your own carelessness. You must have scratched at the small wound on your forehead without realizing it.
Looking back at Esteban, you were met with a look of genuine concern in his eyes. "I'll be right back. I just have to..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely to your forehead before retreating to the bathroom once more.
Fishing out the first aid kit from beneath the sink, you winced as you rose, the sudden movement causing you to bang your head against the edge of the sink. "Dammit," you muttered, eyes squeezing shut as you massaged the sore spot on your head. It felt like nothing was going your way today.
As you stood there, grappling with the mishaps of the day, a reassuring hand landed on yours, causing you to open your eyes and meet Esteban's gaze in the mirror's reflection. Without a word, he gently took the first aid kit from your grasp.
"Let me," he insisted, his tone soft but firm.
"I can handle it," you protested, turning to face him.
"Sit," he urged, tilting his head towards the side of the bathtub.
Caught off guard by his insistence, you hesitated for a moment before relenting, feeling the weariness of the day settling into your bones. You watched silently as Esteban meticulously washed his hands before kneeling in front of you, bringing himself to your eye level.
Rummaging through the first aid kit, he extracted a cotton ball with practiced ease. With a gentle touch, he placed a hand on your knee, coaxing them apart as he leaned in closer, his unwavering gaze locked on yours.
As Esteban gently dabbed at the wound on your forehead, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves at his proximity. Swallowing hard, you tried to focus on the conversation to distract yourself.
"What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be out like the others?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.
Esteban paused in his ministrations, his expression softening as he met your eyes. "I brought you some things. Medicine and chocolate," he explained, his voice gentle. "I saw your message, thinking you were sick. But you're not sick, right? I mean, apart from that," he added with a small gesture towards your injured face.
Glancing over his shoulder, you noticed the bag on the bathroom floor. Gratitude warmed your heart at his thoughtfulness, but it was quickly overshadowed by guilt.
"No, sorry. I just didn't want to go out looking like this," you confessed, your voice tinged with regret.
Esteban exchanged the cotton ball for a clean one and reached for an antiseptic solution, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he lightly guided your jaw to better access your injury.
"Tell me what happened. Exactly," he requested, his voice insistent but laced with concern.
You took a deep breath, recounting the events of the day, the details still fresh in your mind. You had been among the last ones on set, a common occurrence given the nature of your work. As you were packing up equipment into the car, a sudden slip on a patch of ice sent you tumbling to the ground. The fall itself had been painful, but the weight of a heavy equipment box crashing onto your face and striking your eye had left you reeling.
Despite the searing pain, your foremost concern had been the safety of the equipment, and you were grateful that none of it had sustained damage. The crew members, including the director, had helped you right away.
"And Bayona sent you to the doctor, right?" Esteban inquired, referring to the physician who was a fixture on set, primarily attending to the actors' well-being.
"He did," you confirmed quietly, averting your gaze momentarily. "But it's nothing major, so I didn't want to bother her. Besides, I wasn't even sure if she was still there."
Esteban's expression shifted to one of disbelief, his hand instinctively finding its place on your cheek. "Nothing major?" he repeated, his tone a mix of incredulity and worry.
"It looks worse than it is," you reassured him, attempting to downplay the severity of the situation.
"You could have a concussion. This is serious, nena," Esteban expressed with genuine concern, his use of the affectionate term sending a flutter through your chest.
Your cheeks flushed with warmth at the endearment, and your heartbeat quickened at his evident worry. The intimacy of the moment, with him tending to your wound, was not lost on you.
"Okay, I'll go see her tomorrow," you conceded, albeit reluctantly.
"When?" Esteban pressed, his concern evident in his tone.
"I don't know. At 10 a.m.," you replied, hesitating slightly before settling on a time.
"I'll go with you," Esteban offered without hesitation.
"Oh, no. You don't have to–" you began, but Esteban cut you off.
"Wasn't a question," he stated firmly, his gaze unwavering as it bore into yours. You could feel the warmth of his touch against your cheek, grounding you in his presence.
"Okay," you relented, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you surrendered to his unwavering support.
He removed his hand from your face, and a fleeting sense of disappointment washed over you as the warmth of his touch dissipated. Esteban searched for a small bandage and carefully applied it to the wound on your forehead.
"There. Done," he announced. With practiced efficiency, he packed up the first aid kit and rose from his kneeling position between your thighs.
"Thank you. Really," you expressed your gratitude sincerely, rising to your feet.
However, the sudden movement proved too much for you, and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you, causing black spots to dance in your vision. You faltered, your balance wavering, but before you could stumble, Esteban's hands were there, steadying you with a firm yet gentle grip on your waist and arm.
"Whoa, careful there," he cautioned, his concern palpable as he supported you.
You took a moment to steady yourself, gathering your composure before meeting Esteban's concerned gaze.
"You okay?" he inquired, his voice soft and reassuring.
You managed a slight nod in response, your throat feeling tight with a mixture of emotions. The energy between you seemed to shift subtly, a charged atmosphere enveloping the space, and you found yourself captivated by the depths of his gaze. His hair, now longer than when filming began, beckoned your touch, and you couldn't help but imagine the sensation of running your fingers through its strands. Your eyes traced the contours of his face, lingering on the freckles that dusted his cheeks before inadvertently settling on his lips.
The sudden sound of the doorbell shattered the moment, jolting you back to reality. Hastily, you averted your gaze, breaking the spell that had momentarily enveloped you.
"Uh, that's my food," you managed to say, glancing up at Esteban, only to find him looking at you with an intensity that made your heart race.
He cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "I'll get it," he offered, his voice slightly husky.
Before you could respond, he strode out of the bathroom, leaving you alone. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, realizing that your feelings for Esteban might be more intense than you had previously acknowledged.
As the sound of Esteban conversing with the delivery driver drifted through the apartment, you emerged from the bathroom, just in time to see him closing the front door behind him.
"Thank you," you said as he handed you the bag of food. "How much was it?" you asked, scanning the room for your wallet before spotting it on the table.
"I got it. Don't mention it," Esteban replied with a casual wave of his hand, his smile warm and genuine.
"No, come on. You've already done so much for me. Tell me," you urged.
He shrugged, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "I don't know. I forgot," he admitted with a hint of mischief.
"You forgot how much money you just spent? Seriously? You know what, I'll just guess. 30?" You reached for your wallet, only to have it snatched out of your hand by Esteban.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Esteban held your wallet up just out of your reach. You looked at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. His height advantage made it impossible for you to retrieve it, so you resigned yourself to the situation.
"Stop being childish," you chided him lightly, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips at his playful antics.
"Just accept your defeat," Esteban teased, looking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Okay, okay. But I ordered a lot of food because I didn't want to go grocery shopping for the next few days, so at least let me share it with you," you suggested, only to pause mid-sentence as you realized that he might have other plans, like joining the others at the club.
"Unless—sorry, you probably want to get going, right?" you began tentatively.
"I'll stay," he interjected firmly, catching you off guard.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected declaration. "You sure?" you asked, searching his expression for any sign of hesitation.
"Yeah. Wouldn't be any fun without you anyway," Esteban replied with a warm smile. "And I have to make sure you don't hit your head on anything else," he added playfully.
A genuine smile spread across your face at his words. "What are we having?" he asked, his tone light and eager.
"Thai," you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude for his company as you placed the bag on the kitchen counter.
As Esteban unpacked the food from the paper bag, you eagerly retrieved the bag he brought you from the bathroom floor. Excitement bubbled within you as you made your way back to the living room and kitchen area. You peered into the bag, a delighted gasp escaping your lips.
"That's my favorite!" you exclaimed, a smile lighting up your face as you inspected the bar of chocolate nestled within the bag.
Moving to stand beside Esteban, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder in gratitude. Emboldened by the moment, you rose onto your tiptoes, intending to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek.
But as you leaned in, you hadn't anticipated Esteban turning his head at the same moment, causing your lips to land not on his cheek as intended, but on the corner of his lips.
With wide eyes, you quickly moved away, your apology rushing out in a jumble of words. "Shit. I'm sorry. I was going for your cheek, I swear. Oh my god, everything is going wrong today. I'm so sorry. This wasn't how I imagined it would go. Not that I've imagined it, I—"
Before you could finish your rambling, a warm hand gently cupped your jaw, silencing your words. The suddenness of his touch left you momentarily stunned, your breath catching in your throat as his lips met yours once more. For a moment, you stood there, stunned, unsure of what to do. Your heart raced in your chest, disbelief coursing through you.
Sensing your hesitation, he began to pull away, but instinct took over. With a surge of courage, you responded eagerly, returning his kiss with equal fervor, the world around you fading away as the moment enveloped you both in its intensity.
Your hand instinctively found its place on his shoulder, urging him nearer as his touch sent a rush of electricity coursing through you. With a deft movement, he guided your body until you were pressed against the counter, his closeness enveloping you in a heady haze. Esteban's gentle touch traced the curve of your cheek, his thumb inadvertently grazing the tender bruise around your eye. A sharp pang of pain flickered across your face, eliciting a wince from you.
Concern flickered across Esteban's features as he pulled back slightly. "Did I hurt you?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
"No, it's fine," you reassured him, tugging him closer by his shirt, your desire for him outweighing any pain. Yearning for the warmth of his lips once more, you leaned in for another kiss, only to find him drawing back, making you pout.
A tender smile graced his lips as he gently caressed your lower lip with his thumb. "You're injured," he reminded you gently, his concern touching your heart.
"And I need your kisses to make me feel better," you confessed, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Esteban's lips. "Let's wait for this to heal, and then I'll kiss you as much as you want." His words were playful, but his gaze held a promise of genuine affection. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you fought the urge to break into a full grin, mindful of your bruised eye.
With the food plated, you both settled onto the couch, the movie serving as a mere backdrop to your conversation. As you ate and talked, the initial gloom of the evening gradually faded away, replaced by a warmth and comfort that enveloped you both. The hours slipped away unnoticed as you laughed, talked, and occasionally stole soft kisses at each other when the conversation lulled. What had begun as a dreadful evening with the mishaps earlier transformed into one you were certain would linger in your memory for a long time to come.
A/N: As always, would love to know what I think. Also is this the appropriate time to tell you guys that English isn't my first language?
pairing: Enzo Vogrincic x f!reader, best friend/wingman!Jerónimo x f!reader
length: 8.6k
tags — fake dating (and everyone knows but pretends they dont), “there-is-only-one-bed” but it has nothing to do with the plot, two-way mirror, mutual pining, sexual tension, idiots-in-love, bad love confession (it’s supposed to be as realistic as possible), LSDLN cast goes on another summer beachside vacation (courtesy of belle).
tw: mutual masturbation, voyeurism, alcohol, sex under the influence.
a/n. above, i included photos of what i envisioned the bathroom and bed area to be like,, hopefully you get the vibe of the honeymoon suite / resort that i was going for! below are some photos that i think, are the closest, to what i have in mind while picturing “the morning after”.
Fake dating has its perks.
Jerónimo no longer nags you to go with him for wild nights and parties that end up with his making out with some hot stranger, and you awkwardly trying to pry them off of him just so you can go home. Men on the street stop hitting on you when they see the hand wrapped in yours. Your parents phase out of introducing you to their friends’ children, forcing you to sit through awkward meeting that end in endless chatter on both sides of parents that swear that you two are ‘made for each other’. On your end, there’s only benefits.
The same goes for Enzo. He doesn’t have to pester his friends to try out new restaurants—he can just drag you along instead. His cast mates don’t try and set him up with the girls that give him their numbers. And he’s really looking forward to that Valentine’s Day discount that his favorite bakery has for couples.
So yeah, there are only benefits for everyone.
But, by far, the best part of fake dating is getting first dibs on room choice during the cast’s summer vacation.
It started when the movie had wrapped up the first part of its filming portion of the production process, the boys were all beyond excited and couldn’t just sit still in anticipation, desperate to use their newfound freedom for something fun, and most importantly, far from home, up in the snowy region of Spain. The couple rule came about during the second vacation, when everyone chose rooms next to each other. Agustín brought his wife for the first time, and, well, no one really got much sleep for that weekend.
The consensus was simple: never again.
Now, if you decide to bring someone you’re romantically involved with on the trip, you book your room first, and then everyone else books their rooms on the opposite side of the hotel, wishing the best to the unsuspecting families of four and solo travelers that are unlucky enough to sleep near you.
It’s a strict rule. It doesn’t matter if you swear you’ll be quiet or if you promise not to… bone. If you’re a couple, everyone is turning in the other direction.
And so, four years later, Jerónimo’s wrapped up in picking a room at this fancy, beachside hotel for you and Enzo. It’s mostly out of spite that you tell him to pick a suite, embellished with a large lounge area, a jacuzzi in the spacious bathroom, and a walk-out balcony that’s overlooking the ocean, forcing everyone else to settle for booking the smaller, albeit cheaper, rooms that are farther from the shore.
It’s going to be a fun weekend. Before you were dating, well, fake dating, you and Enzo were friends that shared the same sense of humor and same hedonistic demeanor. And you’d been crushing on him for ages, but that’s not the point. You can ignore the close proximity and the way your feelings are slowly but surely eating you alive for a couple of days, right?
You wish you could say you were positive that you could handle it.
One thing’s for sure, though: with this awesome room to come back to every night, well, it’s definitely going to be a fun weekend.
—
Enzo whistles as you push open the double doors to the room, lugging his suitcase behind him. “This is… really nice.”
You’re speechless, met with what you think heaven is: floor-to-ceiling windows present the entire landscape of the beach, letting the room almost glow with natural light. There’s a white couch in front of a gigantic television, and in between the two is an intricate coffee table. It’s what’s on the table, though, that catches your eye.
A large basket filled with what you assume to be goodies and snacks is smack-dab in the middle. Curious, you plop down onto the couch to examine it, as Enzo shuffles in behind you.
“'Welcome to the honeymoon suite,’” you read from the card sticking out from the top, placing it on the side. You do a double-take. “Wait, what?”
“Uh,” you hear Enzo’s muffled voice from another room, presumably the bedroom. “Are you sure this is the right room?”
You huff, getting to your feet and following the sound of his voice. You walk through a doorway to find him staring down at a very large and very comfortable-looking bed covered in… rose petals?
You barely stifle a chuckle, covering your mouth. Enzo glances at you, pink dusting his cheeks, a similarly amused expression on his face.
“This has got to be a mistake,” you snort.
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Unless you were trying to subtly tell me something, which, if you were, is definitely working.”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your face warms. Moving around the room, you crouch and study the nighstand. Pulling open the drawer, you come face-to-face with a very hefty box of condoms with a cheeky note saying 'Use protection ;)’ attached to it.
Enzo jumps as you slam the drawer shut.
“You good?”
“Oh yeah,” you say through a strained smile. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”
—
After an hour of excruciatingly awkward packing—awkward because you know that Enzo definitely saw the condoms and just decided not to say anything—you decide to meet up with the rest of the group.
Jerónimo has a wicked expression on his face as you approach him, and you get the inkling that maybe your room placement wasn’t actually a mistake.
“Jerónimo,” you hiss, noting how his smile seems to grow wider as you look out of the corner of your eye to make sure Enzo isn’t near, “what exactly did you do?”
“Walk with me,” he tells you, pointedly refusing to answer your question. You consider staying put until he gives you an explanation, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and forces you to move with him.
“You know,” he says after a moment. “Kuku told me something interesting.”
“Oh,” you say, rapidly losing your patience. “And what was that?”
“That you and Enzo aren’t actually dating.” You still, your blood turning to ice. There’s no way he’d tell Kuku… right?
As if he can read your thoughts, Jerónimo laughs. “Enzo didn’t tell him,” he snickers. “You guys are just too stupid and too easy to figure out.”
“Does he know that you know?”
Jerónimo makes an ugly noise that sounds like it was meant to be a laugh. “As if! Enzo’s even more of an airhead than you are.”
You ignore the dig, trying to uncover the motivation behind this… this scheme.
“So you made our reservation… that room…. as revenge?”
His brown eyes glint in the sunlight. “Now, would your dearest friend do such a thing for petty revenge?”
You don’t even let a beat pass before responding with a clipped “Yes, that’s exactly what I think you’d do.”
He scoffs. “I’m trying to help you! You’ve been pining over Enzo for forever!”
“Shut—” Whipping your head around, you see Enzo talking animatedly to Kuku, who feigns a faux expression of boredom on his face. He silently mouths to you 'Save me from your man’ and you stick your tongue out. He deserves to get his ear talked off, especially after ratting you out. Turning back, satisfied that Enzo’s out of earshot, you continue. “—up.”
“I’m right, though!”
“That doesn’t mean you have to do something about it,” you mutter. “I’ll tell him eventually.”
He turns to you with a cocked eyebrow. “When?”
“Someday,” you say sheepishly, nudging the ground with your foot. “Maybe in the next decade.”
“See? This is why I’m giving you a boost.”
“By booking the honeymoon suite for us? Could you be any more obvious?”
“Trust me, I could write 'You both like each other’ on my forehead, and neither of you would get the hint.”
“Hey!” You lightly punch him in the arm before realizing what he just said. “Wait, what do you mean us 'both’—”
He’s already scurrying away towards your friends, waving a hand and rushing you over. You groan, dragging a hand down your face.
It’s going to be a fun weekend, you remind yourself. Even though my boyfriend is fake and his friends are plotting against me. It’s definitely going to be a fun weekend.
—
If the first issue with the honeymoon suite was that, well, it’s for honeymooners and therefore designed with a sexual subtext, the second is the lack of a second bed.
It’s a dilemma that doesn’t come to you until long after the first day is done, and everyone’s heading back to their rooms slightly tipsy and extremely exhausted. It didn’t occur to you back when you were packing because you were a bit too bewildered from seeing the condoms, and you assume that the same thing happened to Enzo, because he didn’t mention anything either. So as you say goodnight to your friends and ignore the wagging fingers, jokes of 'don’t disturb the people around you’, and Jerónimo’s knowing smile, you stop dead in your tracks.
Enzo cocks his head in question, lazily rubbing at his tired eyes in a way that’s so unfairly cute.
You groan softly. “There’s only one bed.”
His eyes widen in realization as you fumble for the key, the door unlocking with a beep. The two of you enter the room, gentle tendrils of moonlight reflecting off of the water and through the windows. Even at night it looks beautiful.
“I can take the couch.”
You look at him in a way that says 'You can’t be serious’. “That couch is as stiff as cardboard. You’re not sleeping on it.”
“And I’m not going to let you sleep on it either,” he half-pleads, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.
“Fine.”
It’ll be okay, you try to convince yourself as you head into the bathroom first after Enzo’s insistence, pajamas in hand. We’re two adults. We can share a bed without it being weird.
You enter the bathroom and see just how… expansive it is. There’s not a lot of walls, or privacy for that matter, but it makes sense since the whole layout was designed for a couple that probably doesn’t want that much distance between them anyway. You are surprised, though, to see two different shower stalls separated by a wall. Peeking your head into the stall closest to you, you see that the wall is, in fact, a full length mirror, the reflective surface stretching to the ceiling and spreading until it hits the back wall. You admire yourself for a few moments before realizing that you can both shower at once.
It’s been a long day. He probably wants to wash up as soon as he can and sleep, you reason. And we might as well take advantage of this huge-ass bathroom.
“Enzo, in here!”
You hear the shuffle of clothing and the push of a door as he comes into the bathroom.
“Yeah?”
“There’s two showers,” you say, nodding towards them. “We can shower at once and then pass the fuck out.”
He sidesteps you, seeing that there’s a mirror between the two showers.
“Gotcha,” he replies, a little breathless. “I’ll go… grab my clothes then.”
“And I’ll be,” you jerk your thumb towards the stall, “…in there.” You finish awkwardly.
God, why am I such a wreck?
The tips of Enzo’s ears burn red as he remembers what exactly you’ll be doing… in there. Rubbing soap along your body, maybe cupping your tits, letting your hands trace down those thighs of yours…
He blinks and you’re already heading into the stall, the frosted glass door closing behind you.
Good Lord, get your shit together, he pleads to himself. Don’t fuck things up.
Within a few minutes, Enzo’s gathered his clothes on one of the very conveniently-placed counters and is opening the door to his stall. He takes a second to steady his breathing, feeling the cloudy steam from your side circulate through his lungs, while trying his absolute best to not to think about you. In the shower next to him.
Naked.
He groans, smacking his forehead. Worst case scenario, he can just take a very, very cold shower. Or he can take care of his soon-to-be problem in the shower. One of the two. Both options are fine.
Stepping into the shower, he examines his surroundings. It’s not any more than he expected, and as he rotates in place, seeing one wall of tile, another wall of tile, and yet another wall of tile, he thinks that this isn’t too bad of a place to jerk off. Worst case scenario, of course.
And then he turns to the fourth wall, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
Because while your side has a mirror, his doesn’t. It’s just glass.
It’s just glass and he can fucking see you on the other side.
He quickly averts his eyes, turning around and trying to pretend that your bare figure isn’t seared into his brain and that his dick isn’t hardening against his thigh.
It’s a fucking two-way mirror.
He simultaneously wants to worship and curse whoever designed this room because what the fuck. And as much as he’d theoretically enjoy the view, which he shouldn’t because it’s not like you knew that it wasn’t an actual mirror, it’s also a reminder of everything he can’t have: you, right there in front of him, stripped and lathering iridescent bubbles all across your skin, compelling him to watch like some kind of pervert.
God, you’re killing him. He wants you so bad.
And it’s at that moment, when his back is turned towards you, that the flowery scent of the body wash and the sight of sweat dripping down Enzo’s skin and the fucking aura of sex in the entire hotel room gets to you, and your hand trails lower and lower down your abdomen until it’s brushing against your clit. The arousal hits you like a truck, and before you can stop yourself, your mind is flashing with all kinds of erotic scenarios of Enzo bouncing you on his cock, him stuffing his face into your cunt, him pounding you mercilessly from the back.
If you squint, you swear you can imagine him watching you from the other side of the mirror, a lazy hand stroking up and down his cock, his brown eyes clouded with haze. It’s enough to make you let out a little noise of want, but you immediately stifle it with a hand clamped over your mouth.
Was I too loud?
For a moment, there’s nothing you can hear but the insistent white noise of running water, so you believe that you’re in the clear.
On the other side of the mirror, Enzo’s jaw is clenched, a vein popping in his forehead. You have the nerve, the audacity, to be so close yet so fucking far. It’s as if you know the effect you have on him, the way all the blood is rushing from his head to somewhere… less decent.
It takes everything in him not to groan at the sound of you moaning—it’s faint, almost washed away by the rush of water, but he hears it all the same.
Against every moral he has, his head snaps to look at you, hand immediately coming to wrap around his cock at the sight: you, leaning against the far wall, legs slightly spread and fingers teasing your entrance, head thrown back and wet hair plastered along the sides of your face.
This is so fucking unfair, he thinks to himself, the grip of his hand moving against his will to stroke up and down. You’re so fucking unfair.
You get a little bolder, the lust clouding your mind and muffling the alarm bells that are telling you not to masturbate when your crush is mere feet away. Your finger brushes against your clit and you shudder, the first suggestion of relief striking like electricity through your veins. You indulge in it like you can’t get enough, fingers trailing lower to dip into your entrance, and you don’t stop until you’re three knuckles deep and your palm slaps against your clit.
“Oh, God,” you say breathily, head thumping against the cold tile of the wall behind you. “Fuck, I—”
Enzo’s movements get more frantic, his hand meeting his base of his chest so harshly that it’s a wonder you can’t hear the slap! of skin on skin. The heat in his veins is searing—he feels like he’ll burn up if he doesn’t get this debauched energy out of his body. And you’re right there, droplets of water condensing on your eyelashes, rivulets of it tracing paths down your body that he wants to follow with his hands, with his tongue…
“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Your thighs clench around your wrist, the fat squishing and making everything feel so much better, and you let out a choked whimper.
“Want you so bad,” you whisper to your daydreams, imagining that the puffs of warm air against your flesh are phantom touches of Enzo. “Enzo, I–I just—”
Enzo’s abs clench as he rolls his hips into his fist, thrusting into it, wishing it was your greedy pussy sucking him back in every time he goes to pull out.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Ah, fuck—”
You fingers curl and hit that spongy spot inside you and you keen, knees going weak as your hand scrambles to stabilize yourself against the wall. You reach your peak, mind going blank as you cum hard.
“Enzo!”
His eyes snap open because he swears that that’s my fucking name, she just moaned something that sounded like my fucking name—and truthfully, he couldn’t care less if it really was his name or not, it’s enough for him to indulge himself—and then he spills into his hand, sinking his teeth into his fist to stop himself from giving himself away.
The feeling of your orgasm hits you so hard that everything fades to black behind your eyelids—you’re not even grounded enough to hear the strangled groan that comes from the other side of the mirror.
The two of you gasp for breath, backs resting uncomfortably against the chilling cold of your respective showers. Your head reels as you realize what the fuck you just did and how fucking stupid it just was. It did feel good to get off to all your filthy little daydreams, though. The sexual tension has been frustrating.
And Enzo feels the same way, staring down at the shower drain in shame and… dissatisfaction. Now that he’s gotten a chance to see you, he just wants to feel you.
Fuck, he wants it so bad that it’s consuming him.
You turn off the water first, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself clean before quickly stepping out and wearing your pajamas. You slink out of the bathroom, heart pounding, and slide under the bedsheets. Enzo follows soon after, and you try not to make it apparent that you just masturbated to the thought of him.
So naturally, you’re trying to devour him with your eyes, wishing that you had x-ray vision and could see what was underneath those black jogger pants and black t-shirt of his.
He sneaks in bed beside you, putting so much distance between you that he’s almost hanging off of the mattress.
“Enzo,” you chuckle. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be so far.”
He flushes. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine. It’s not like… anything is gonna happen,” you stammer. Nothing will happen, but god, you wish it would.
“Right.”
He shifts onto his side, an arm tucked under his head. You lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling, trying your best to ignore how his eyes are boring holes into your face. You glance over and he quickly averts his eyes, failing to play off the fact that he was staring. You reach over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed, smiling freely in the dark.
“Goodnight,” you murmur sleepily, body sinking into the sheets.
Enzo waits until your breathing evens next to him, wishing he could memorize the delicate way the moonlight traces your features. Once he’s sure you’re asleep, he leans over just the slightest, gently pressing his lips against your forehead. You stir lightly, smiling in your dream.
“Goodnight.”
—
“How do you boys have the energy for this?” You grumble as Jerónimo insistently pulls you along behind him. “I’m exhausted from yesterday and the day before.”
“We’re already more than halfway through this vacation! I have to make sure that you make every minute count because,” he looks pointedly back at you, “you need to get off your ass and go wild for once!”
“This lazy bum is tired and she wants to go home,” you groan.
“Aw, come on y/n! … ” You barely hear the rest of the sentence or whatever it is Jerónimo bullshitted to convince you to go out with them and hit the beach club, because Enzo chooses that moment to breeze past you, saddling up to the back of the line. “…. It’ll be fun! Besides, we haven’t gone dancing in ages.”
Your eyes rake up Enzo’s frame, catching on the sight of his tight black wife beater shirt that exposes a lot of tanned skin to leave your mouth watering. You meet his eyes and quickly look away.
“I guess so,” you mumble, feeling awfully warm despite the cool temperature. “The last time we went was really fun.”
Enzo gives you a reassuring smile, before looking down to search for his ID in his wallet. Jerónimo takes the moment of distraction as a chance to whisper in your ear.
“You’re so whipped,” he teases in tone of mockery.
You nudge him in the side. “Shut up.”
The place that Jerónimo found was nice, a little hole-in-the-wall place recommended by a local, but bustling nonetheless. Fairy lights are strung across the roof, making the ambiance glow with excitement. The bassy beat of the music from inside mixes in with the crash of the waves mere feet away, and you can’t help but tap your feet.
It has been ages since you’ve danced. Even if you don’t want to admit it, you’ve been itching to let loose.
The bouncer spares your group a glance before examining your IDs, and you’re whisked inside. If waiting in line was exhilarating, it’s nothing like actually stepping foot in the place. Light bounces along the walls, painting them in splashes of color. There’s a paneled dancefloor in the middle framed by various tables and a bar where other patrons are mingling and sipping drinks. As vibrant as it seems, it’s cozy, and your frazzled nerves give way to a tingling anticipation.
Jerónimo drags you over to the main bar, while the boys end up hovering by the bar near the back where there are less patrons, to order some drinks in peace. You try to search for Enzo, but he’s already lost somewhere in the crowd.
Within a few minutes, Jerónimo’s got you swaying to some song on the dancefloor, the first drops of the drink you had sizzling in your veins and making your body burn with energy. You can’t help but let your hips move side to side and your hands teasingly roam your body, the addictiveness of the song guiding your limbs.
You’d always felt at least a little uncomfortable in social situations such as these, but tonight, everything just feels so right. The buzz has shaved off all of your inhibitions, and you feel like you could do anything.
You feel like you could tell him.
The thought strikes you like lightning, and before you can consider it for too long, Jerónimo’s already pushing another drink in your hands, raising glass straight to your lips, leaving you to take a sip of your own accord. You end up downing the entire thing, to your surprise and his.
—
“Aren’t you gonna dance?”
Enzo snaps out of his trance, dragging his gaze from where you’re doing some kind of dance next to Jerónimo, the lights on the ceiling illuminating your smiling face, to a straight-faced Matías.
He considers asking the younger guy to repeat the question, because frankly he thinks it is impolite to be caught not paying attention to something that someone has said to him, but he takes too long, mouth moving but not forming words as he looks blankly at his friend, and the moment is gone. If he asked now, it would .. kind of weird. So, he chooses the next most eloquent thing to do.
“Huh?”
“With your girlfriend,” Matías elaborates, coming to terms with the newfound information he just gained— that the Enzo Vogrincic can be reduced to a wordless airhead when he is too busy entranced by you. “Aren’t you gonna dance with her?”
Enzo squints at him, even more confused that he was before, suddenly feeling like he’s the brunt of a joke.
“My…” Girlfriend? Since when has he had a… “Oh!” His focus shoots back to you. “Yeah. My girlfriend.”
The edges of Matías’s lips start to twitch, as he is struggling to keep himself from bursting into laughter. He silently wonders how you and Enzo expected to convince anyone with this relationship of yours when you barely remember it exists yourselves.
“Yeah,” he says curtly. He has to cut it short before he loses his composure and reveals to the Uruguayan that everyone knows about your fake dating arrangement. The whole friend group has tried so hard to pretend they don’t know, all in good faith that you and Enzo would figure out both your feelings for each other, he can’t be the one to ruin the well-kept charade.
Being a wingman is much harder than he thought. “Aren’t you gonna go dance with her?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
Enzo gets to his feet, pausing for just a second while trying to ignore Matías’s eyes burning holes into him as he wipes his palms on his shorts. He shoves his hands into his pockets before making his way across the dance floor to you. His fingers twitch in his pockets—probably from nerves—making the fabric ripple.
“Can I steal her from you?”
Jerónimo whips his head up, smile widening as he realizes that it’s Enzo. He not-so-subtly pushes you into his arms with all his brute force, patting him on the back as he heads back to join some of the men by the bar.
“She’s all yours.”
Enzo nods appreciatively, turning back to you with a heavy inhale to calm his nerves, suddenly all too aware of the curve of your hips under his hands and your expectant stare burning into his. He almost keels over as your arms come up to rest on his shoulders, bringing your faces closer to each other. The tension is palpable, and he can’t help but glance down at your lips, looking so soft, so plump, so kissable—
“Let’s dance,” you say breathily, the air of your words making goosebumps spread across Enzo’s skin.
Because he can barely think straight with the way you’re looking at him, can barely breathe at the sight of you in front of him, he can only nod eagerly.
He lets you take the lead as you rock your bodies to the thump of the song through the stereo, watching hungrily at the flesh of your neck as you roll your head. You pry his hands off of your waist before turning around and pressing your back to his chest, bringing them over your stomach.
Enzo does his best to stifle a groan as you grind your ass onto him, relishing in the dull pleasure that builds in his core. A small sound escapes your lips, and you dare to grind on him a little more, and this time, he doesn’t bother trying to stay silent. A low and rumbly noise floats into your ear, and you smile sultrily. He feels like he could drown in the waves of confidence radiating off of you—you’re sucking him in like a siren, and all he can do is try not to lose his breath.
At your clear interest, he gets grabbier, hands drifting up to brush against your tits, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, before falling back down to squeeze the sides of your thighs. You shudder at his touch, leaning your head back onto him and pulling him in.
It’s like your tipsy haze is contagious, because he can feel his thoughts clouding, the sweat beading like dew on his forehead. He can practically taste the alcohol on his tongue, the way it would sit sweetly on his taste buds if you swapped saliva, if he craned his neck just the slightest, if he—
“I know this isn’t part of the agreement,” he murmurs, mouth moving before his brain. “But I want to kiss you so badly.”
You blink up at him, eyes wide, and he wants to kick himself for being so forward and so real when, of course, this whole arrangement is fake, but his worries fade when you reach for his shirt collar and yank him towards you.
“Then do it.”
And then he really does taste the tang of beer or vodka or whatever the hell it is that you’d drank, the flavor subdued by the gloss on your lips, but if you ask him, he’d say that makes it all the better. He parts his lips because he wants more, more, more, and you take the invitation, deepening the kiss with drunken fervor. His hands guide you until you’ve turned around again and you’re chest to chest, bodies pressed against each other as if there’s still too much distance between you.
You drink in his breaths like they’re your own, your hearts beating in sync, the dim reminder that you’re kissing your crush blaring somewhere in the deep recesses of your hazy mind. You want even more of Enzo, you want everything he’s willing to give to you—which only he knows is everything you could possibly want—and you want it now, your hands growing more insistent, your noises more needy, your breath more hitched—
“Damn, get a room!”
You jerk away at the sound of Diego’s voice as he drifts past you, face contorted in playful disgust and eyes crinkled in amusement.
Fran follows close behind him, tilting his head to side with a chuckle as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Might as well get some use out of that honeymoon suite, eh?”
You nearly froze in horror as they weave in and out of people—because how the fuck do they know that your bedroom is a honeymoon suite?
“I mean, we can,” Enzo says, a pink flush evident on his cheeks. You snap your head back towards him. “’Get a room’, um, if you want to.”
If I want to? You almost grab Enzo’s shoulders and shake him silly because of course you want to! You’ve been thinking about this exact moment for god-knows how long now. He’s so fucking thoughtful and considerate and you don’t think you could like him more.
“Definitely.” You grab his hand and maneuver yourselves through the mass of people that surround you, nearly sighing in relief when you finally spot the exit.
Enzo simply lets you do as you wish, too busy looking at the back of your figure with a slack-jawed expression because you’re going to have sex with him.
You, the girl of his dreams for forever, is going to have sex with him. He’s glad that you pull him into the moonlit darkness of outside when you do, because he has an embarrassing hard-on in his pants just at the thought of you touching him.
You really don’t know the effect you have on him. You can do the slightest of things and he’ll be put in a trance.
He doesn’t even care if this is fake, if this is just you wanting to get some horny energy out of your system. He’s willing to take you in any capacity he can get, even if his feelings aren’t reciprocated.
Benefits for everyone, he supposes.
—
The two of you barely make it to the room—you’re a mess of lips and tongue and teeth on the elevator ride up, and his shirt has a few more buttons undone than he did at the beginning of the night by the time you get to the door. He frantically gets the keycard out of his pocket, pushing the door before it even unlocks, and you stumble inside, almost falling on top of him.
“God, you’re so—” you hum, trailing soft kisses along his neck. “I want you so bad, Enzo.”
He groans. “You sound so pretty saying my name like that, fuck.”
Somehow, you find yourselves on the bed, clothes half-off as you desperately pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming unabashed across the planes and curves of each others’ bodies.
“Off.” You tug at Enzo’s shorts, his shirt already long gone, strewn across the floor somewhere. “Off, come on.”
He shuffles out of them, not wanting to break the kiss you’ve pulled him into. The atmosphere is hot and sticky, and you swear that the scent of sex is already in the air.
“Your turn,” he huffs, peeling the hem of your dress higher and higher up your stomach. “Lemme see that gorgeous body, baby, please.”
You raise your arms and he shimmies the fabric off of you, throwing it to the side before immediately groping any flesh he can. His hands tremble in pleasure as you let your weight settle on him as you straddle his lap, your clothed pussy rubbing directly against the bulge in his boxers.
“Ah, f-fuck,” you whisper against his lips, fingers intertwining around his neck as you bury your face in his collarbone, the pressure against your clit making you embarrassingly wet. You subconsciously drag your hips in an effort to get more friction, and Enzo groans brokenly into your ear.
“D-don’t do that,” he whines. “Feels good, too good.”
You unclasp your hands from their place on his neck, letting them run down Enzo’s muscled chest, feeling the contortions of his abs under you. Your fingers dip under the elastic of his underwear and he grabs your wrist, looking up at you, eyes piercing in the dark.
“Are you sure?”
I’ve been sure about this for a long time, you want to say, but you settle for a breathy “yes.”
You slip the waistband down and his cock slaps his stomach, thick and pretty, drooling a bead of pre-cum that you want to taste on your tongue.
Your mouth drops open. “Shit,” you breathe. Even the thought of him stretching you out with his girth is making your hole clench helplessly in anticipation.
“We don’t have to,” Enzo insists at your hesitation, rubbing circles into the plush of your thigh with his thumb. “Seriously, we don’t— I don’t—”
You nearly huff in desperation. You guide his hand towards the apex of your thighs, manipulating it until the pads of his fingers are massaging the wet spot on your panties. The oxygen catches in your lungs as your eyelids flutter shut—it feels so good already. Just from a couple swipes of his fingers, you’re curling in on yourself.
His eyebrows furrow in hesitation and you almost cry out. “Are you sure you—”
“Please, Enzo, please. I fucking, I—fuck—I need it so fucking bad, I need you so fucking bad, just—”
You swallow your words as he drags the honeyed gusset of your panties to the side and sheathes two of his fingers inside you, the gushing wetness of your pussy making the intrusion not only bearable, but pleasurable.
His eyes are locked on the way you swallow his fingers up, a small groan of your name flowing from his mouth. “You’re taking them so well,” he half-whispers in awe. His gaze trails back up to your dewy face, greedily drinking in your dazed expression. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”
He scissors you open, whispering sweet nothings at every hushed moan of yours. You can’t help but dig your nails into his shoulders, his forearms, the sheets—anything you can reach, really—as he prods the spongy spot inside you.
He adds a third finger and your eyes roll back, the coil in your belly winding tight as he thrusts in and out.
“Enzo—,” you whine, gasping for breath. “I think I’m gonna—gonna c-cum soon.”
A low sound reverberates from his throat as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to cum on the spot. “Do it,” he practically growls, clenching his jaw. “Cum on my fingers and then I’ll make you cum on my cock.”
“Promise?” Your voice is high-pitched and cracks as he plunges his fingers impossibly deeper.
His head falls forward and he sucks on one of your tits to muffle the moan that’s ripped from his throat. “Promise.”
That’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, thighs clamping down around Enzo’s wrist as you keen, every muscle in your body burning in euphoria.
“Fuck, I’m—Enzo, fuck, Enzo—”
“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, lips pressed against the soft flesh of your breast and slowly creeping up the column of your neck. “You look so beautiful like this, yeah? Cumming on my fingers, so fucking pretty. You look like an angel,” he babbles, mesmerized by the blissful look on your face and the way your body relaxes in his grasp. “Like an angel from heaven. You’re gorgeous, so—”
You shut him up by pulling him into a fiery kiss, drunk on the way he’s making you feel but hungry for so much more. Your fingers thread through the damp strands of hair at the nape of his neck, other hand coming down between your bodies to wrap around his cock and leisurely stroke from tip to base, making him whimper into your mouth.
“Want you to fuck me,” you slur, breaking the kiss just enough to get the words out. “Wanna feel you inside me—”
“—God,” he gasps. “I need it, fuck. Lemme fuck you, I gotta—”
You wedge your feet underneath you and lift yourself, ignoring the burn in your knees, carefully lining up his cock with your cunt. The tip pushes in just the slightest, and Enzo sighs shakily, hands gripping your hips with restrained strength.
You slowly sink down, trying to keep your breathing steady as the fat head enters you with a squelchy pop! His shaft fills you whole—every rub of a vein along your inner walls makes your nerves tingle in ecstasy—and your pussy throbs against your will.
“You’re so damn tight,” he musters, voice tight, like he’s pained. His chest heaves as he palms your tits, doing anything to distract himself from the soft sensation of you around him. “How’re you so fucking tight and wet and perfect?”
He gives a short thrust of his hips upwards and you moan, stars dancing in your vision. You all but collapse onto him, weakly holding onto his shoulders, as he jerks up again, hands roaming down your back before settling on the plump flesh of your ass.
You let him handle your body as you drop down on his cock the best you can, the sounds of skin-on-skin increasing in volume as bounce your hips to slide down his length while he pounds into you from below. The only words that either of you can manage are jumbled versions of each others’ names and hushed curses, punctuated by the occasional sloppy kiss that leaves you both breathless.
Enzo tucks his lower lip in with his teeth as he watches his cock move in and out of you. It’s shimmering in a layer of your arousal, a ring of white settled at the base from your past orgasm. Every time he bottoms out, there’s the slick sound of wetness, and it sends heat through his veins whenever he hears it. The scene is so pornographic and hot that it makes his cock throb inside you.
He stares at you in reverence, his movements slowing as you continue bouncing up and down at your will, small hums and moans spilling from your permanently parted lips. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as you move faster, chasing the orgasm building in your stomach in a sex-induced daze.
“Baby, baby,” Enzo whispers, beginning to thumb at your clit, making you moan out loud. “Look at you, using me so well. God, use my cock, baby. It’s yours, it’s all yours.”
You keen as the added pressure on your clit is so good that it’s borderline overwhelming. Your pace falters as the muscles in your abdomen twist, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable.
“God, you’re amazing,” you sob, resting your forehead against his. You cradle his cheek with your palm, almost shocking yourself at the raw tenderness of the action. You wonder if he can sense your true affections through that one touch. “I want you, I need you, forever, Enzo. For—fuck—forever, please.”
“I’m all yours,” he replies, voice soft. “I swear, I’m all yours.” He turns his head and kisses the inside of your hand, his lips delicate against the skin. “Always was and always will be.”
He wonders if you can sense his true affections through that one sentence.
He draws another circle on your clit and you clench hard, spiraling into another plane of pleasure. Enzo moans lowly, cursing under his breath.
“So close,” you gasp. “I’m so—”
“—me t-too, fuck. Fuck,” he breathes, “I’m gonna—where should I cum, fuck— y/n, you gotta tell me where, I’m g-gonna—”
“—inside,” you beg, eyes glossing over. “Please cum inside, fill me up, Enzo, please—”
“Fuck-”
He groans deep and low as he cums, the warmth spreading across your insides, forcing you to cum as well. You go over together, your thighs trembling over the coiled muscles of his as the air escapes your lungs. Your chests move together as you inhale, the aftershocks of your orgasms rippling throughout your bodies.
Exhaustion, both from the sex and the dancing, slams into you with full-force, and you sway forward. Enzo braces you, shifting out of the way to lay you down on the bed.
“Woah there,” he starts, holding your head until it’s on the pillow. “Don’t move, I’ll get you cleaned up.”
You make a garbled sound of affirmation and nuzzle into the sheets as Enzo makes his way to the bathroom.
You fall asleep to the soft strokes of a wet cloth against your sensitive pussy, a gentle hand pushing your hair out of your face, and a delicate—so delicate that you’re sure you’re dreaming it—peck on your forehead.
—
You wake up surprisingly not hungover—your brain is completely lucid. You remember everything—his hands, his cock, his lips, and most importantly, his words. Maybe you’re just looking too far into it, but you’re almost certain that your feelings aren’t unrequited, if your subconscious has anything to say about it.
The first thing you notice is that the blankets next you are rumpled, leaving a person-shaped portion of sheets showing. Still groggy, you sit up and pull on a shirt, shivering slightly at the coolness of the room, despite the humidity. You slip on a pair of flip flops and quietly walk to the lounge area of the room, the early rays of sunrise starting to shine through the glass.
It must be really early, judging by the tinges of pastel pink and purple in the clouds, giving way to a soft yellow. You consider going back to bed, sure that Enzo’s just in the bathroom or something, when you see his slippers on the floor by the bed.
Your eyes trail to the glass again—one of the glass doors is slightly askew, and a set of footsteps begins from just on the other side of it, on the sand. You track it with your eyes, locking on a small figure sitting idly on the shore.
Gathering your courage, you kick off your flip flops and follow the same path, the grains of chilled sand digging into the crevices of your toes. It’s still relatively cold, and you’re glad you threw on a shirt as a salty ocean breeze makes goosebumps spread across your legs.
Silently, you approach Enzo, crouching down next to him before taking a seat.
“Hey.”
He seems a little startled, too busy focusing on something in the horizon to realize that you were there, but he relaxes immediately when he sees that it’s you.
“Hey. How’d you sleep?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks despite the temperature. “Like a baby. Thanks, um, for cleaning me and everything. You didn’t have to.”
It’s his turn to blush, and it creeps up his cheekbones before he turns his face back towards the sea. “Of course. It was nothing.”
You sit quietly for a bit, the crashing of the waves and the cawing of seagulls doing enough to not make the moment awkward. To anybody else, it’d just look like a couple enjoying the morning with each other.
“Listen, I—” you start.
“Can I say something?” Enzo asks at the same time.
You both pause, eyes wide as you look at each other expectantly.
You clear your throat. “You first.”
Enzo takes a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “I know that this,” he waves his hand between the two of you, “thing, this relationship, was supposed to be fake and have net benefits and everything but I don’t think that I can keep doing this.”
He swallows, still avoiding eye contact, before continuing.
“It’s not your fault or anything. It’s just that, I mean,” he buries his head in his hands, groaning. “I’m not making any sense. I’m just gonna straight up tell you that—”
“—I like you,” you blurt.
He raises his head, looking at you speechlessly. His mouth moves without making noise and he narrows his eyes. “You… what?”
“Yeah,” you say a little quickly. “For a while now. Since before we started like fake dating or whatever. Actually,” you chuckle sheepishly, looking anywhere but him, “I asked you if you wanted to, you know, fake date or whatever because I wanted to spend time with you. That’s it. I mean the sex was awesome,” oh my god you’re a fucking idiot, shut the fuck up already, you think, “but that’s not, like, why I wanted to do this… whole thing. So yeah,” you end weakly.
“Okay.”
You cringe at his reaction. He pinches the bridge of his nose before speaking again. “Okay, wait. Okay. You like me?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Since when?”
“Practically since we met.”
“What you are saying is, you like me more than friends do?”
“Yes,” you say exasperatedly. “I like you more than friends.”
He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “Wait I— I need a second. Because I like you more than friends.”
You have been daydreaming about this, but it still takes you by surprise. “You do?”
“Well obviously!”
“It wasn’t obvious at all!”
He scoffs. “Why else did you think I agreed to this fake dating thing?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So we like each other?”
“Yes.” He turns completely towards you, the realization suddenly hitting him. “We like each other.”
You can’t stop the smile that stretches your lips. “Okay. That’s a nice start.”
He smiles too, a bright beam that makes you feel even warmer than the sunrise peeking over the ocean before you. “Yeah, that’s pretty damn nice.”
“So do you wanna date me? Like, actually date, as in I’m gonna be your—?”
“Girlfriend,” he breathes, leaning closer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
He glances down at your lips quickly, but not quick enough for you to not notice. You effortlessly close the distance, sweetly pressing your lips to his.
“You’re an idiot,” you say, when you pull back.
“Maybe,” he acquiesces. A smile forms on his lips when you drop your head on his shoulder. “But I’m not the only idiot here.”
You comfortably lapse into silence, watching orange rays dance along the waves before greeting you with a new day.
—
“I think I deserve a 'thank you’,” Jerónimo quips from the front passenger seat, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his beer while he diverts his attention from the GPS in his hand. Using the can of beer, he gestures between you and Enzo, who’s currently laid in your lap, dozing off. “You better name your firstborn after me.”
“You set me up, literally,” you say through gritted teeth, voice hushed as to not wake your boyfriend—you can’t see yourself getting used to saying that without having the heat rush to your cheeks anytime soon.
“And it worked out, didn’t it? You should probably thank everyone else too.”
You think it over for a second, gaze softening as Enzo’s hand twitches a little. You run your fingers gently through his locks, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. “Thank you.”
“Never mind,” from the driver seat, Agustín fake retches. “I already regret this.”
You laugh, wanting to torture them more. “What do you think a better nickname is? Booboo Bear or My Little Pookie?”
“Please stop, y/n. Just— stop talking.”
“Hmm, maybe Hummy Wummy?”
Jerónimo punches Agustín in the arm, who gives him an incredulous look.
“Don’t hit me! You’re the one who made this happen.” The older Argentine jerks his thumb towards the second row, where you stifle a laugh to avoid waking Enzo up.
Jerónimo makes an offended noise. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand. Doesn’t this lovey-dovey-ness get to you?”
“I usually tune both Matías and his girlfriend out, so this isn’t any different, you see.” quips Agustín with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Hey!” you protest. “Fuck you! Hummy Wummybear and I are very hurt right now!”
Your best friend slaps his forehead repeatedly with his palm. “You gotta fucking teach me how to tune them out,” his eyes widen in visible horror. “I’ll do anything you want, bro.”
The car runs over a pothole, making the entire vehicle shake. Enzo awakens with a stir, rotating his body until he’s looking up at you.
“Hi there baby,” he mumbles.
“Come on, man,” Jerónimo says more urgently. “I’ll pay you if I have to,” he hisses.
“Hi,” you reply, bending down to give him a kiss on the nose. “Do you like Hummy Wummybear or Boo Boobear better? Or My Little Pookie?”
His sleepy expression morphs to confusion, because neither of you like stupid, cringey petnames, but you gesture to Jerónimo and he nods in understanding, lips stretching into a lazy smile.
“How about My Little Pookie?”
Jerónimo groans dramatically, this time accompanied by a barely-concealed, booming laugh from Agustín. “You guys are perfect for each other,” he snarks. “You’re both gross and irritating.”
“It’s your fault they’re together,” Agustín reminds him, silently taking note to purposely refer to his wife with the most ridiculous nickname the next time she comes along the trip.
He slumps in his seat, a playful smirk on his face. “Whatever man.”
a/n. i hope you enjoyed reading this. if you can’t already tell, i love having the other LSDLN men make cameo appearances. even better if they are promoted to side characters lol
This is THE fic everyone! If you only ever read one Enzo fanfic in your life, this one better be it.
It's cute, spicy, funny. It has tension and it's so well written. I couldn't take my eyes off it even though the word-count intimidated me at first glance.
Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (angst), medical inaccuracies, mention of bruises, stubborn reader
A/N: This is all you're getting for the synopsis hehe. This fic is inspired by one scene from the book "All Rhodes Lead Here" by Mariana Zapata (one of my all-time fav books) and by this wonderful Luke Alvez fic by @thelukesalvez
Masterlist
You grimaced as you examined your reflection in the mirror, the bruise around your eye stark against your skin. It was still inflamed and angry, a painful reminder of what had transpired. With a heavy sigh, you hovered your fingers over the tender skin, wincing at the slightest touch, the ache radiating through your skull. Gingerly, you reached for the ice pack resting on the edge of the sink, pressing it gently against the swollen area in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort.
Self-reproach flooded your thoughts as you replayed the events that led to your current predicament. It was just your luck to end up like this, nursing bruises and regrets on what should have been a great evening.
The idea of venturing out tonight seemed daunting, knowing the inevitable onslaught of questions and sympathetic stares that would follow. As much as you longed for a distraction from your thoughts, the last thing you wanted was to recount the embarrassing tale of how you wound up with a shiner.
As you weighed your options, the reality of the situation settled heavily upon you. You acknowledged the futility of attempting to mask the bruise with makeup. The thought of bothering Paloma, the talented makeup artist for the movie, briefly crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed it. This wasn't an emergency, and you didn't want to impose on her time with such a trivial matter. You conceded defeat, acknowledging that tonight was simply not meant to be.
Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you navigated to the group chat with a heavy heart. Disappointment washed over you as you began typing, your fingers tapping out the message that would effectively cancel your plans for the evening. Despite the anticipation that had built up over the past few days, one glance in the bathroom mirror had made your decision painfully clear.
Y: Hey, I have to sit tonight out. I'm not feeling too well. Think I'm coming down with something. But I hope you guys have fun! Not too much without me though.
You hit send, a pang of guilt accompanying the action. Almost immediately, responses flooded in from your friends.
Alfonsina: Oh, get well soon!
Simón: Hope you feel better soon.
Matías: Get well soon. I'm drinking for you tonight.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips at Matías' playful remark, grateful for the warmth and camaraderie of your friends. With a few swift taps on your phone screen, you replied to each of them, expressing your gratitude for their well-wishes.
Being an assistant operator on the set of "La sociedad de la nieve" had not only provided you with valuable experience but also unexpectedly brought you into the camaraderie of the movie's cast and crew.
Your job as an assistant operator primarily revolved around ensuring the seamless functioning of the camera equipment and making sure that Bayona's vision was captured effectively. It entailed being on set every day, ready to assist with anything behind the camera. But more than just a job, it provided you with a dynamic environment where no two days were alike.
Through your work, you had the privilege of crossing paths with a multitude of remarkable individuals, but one person, in particular, occupied a special place in your thoughts. Esteban Kukuriczka, with his unruly hair, distinctive nose, and warm smile, had seamlessly woven himself into the fabric of your life during the filming process.
Your connection with Esteban extended beyond the confines of the movie set; it was rooted in shared experiences and mutual respect. Your history with him stretched back further than the current project. Two years ago, you had crossed paths during a theater production where he had taken on a leading role. Though your interactions had been brief, the impression he left on you was indelible, igniting a spark of curiosity and admiration that had only grown over time.
The revelation of Esteban's involvement in the project had caught you off guard, to say the least. As you had scanned the call sheet on the first day of "La sociedad de la nieve," seeing his name among the cast was a delightful surprise. And when he approached you, questioning if you remembered him, it felt like a serendipitous reunion that was meant to be.
Esteban had a knack for making you feel at ease, effortlessly weaving himself into the fabric of your daily routines on set. Whether it was sharing a laugh over your corny jokes or ensuring you stayed hydrated during the chaos of filming, his presence was a constant source of comfort and support. He had a way of making you feel seen and valued in a way no one else ever had. In many ways, he became the glue that bound you to the rest of the cast, seamlessly integrating you into their tight-knit circle.
But amidst the camaraderie and shared moments, a subtle shift had occurred—a shift that left you grappling with feelings you had never anticipated. Somewhere along the way, amidst the hustle and bustle of the film set, you had developed a crush on Esteban. It was a realization that both thrilled and terrified you. After all, you and Esteban were friends, and crossing that line into something more felt daunting and unprofessional. Yet, in the depths of your heart, you couldn't deny the warmth and affection that blossomed whenever you were in his presence.
As you scrolled through your phone, the absence of a message from Esteban gnawed at you, though you tried to brush it off. He was likely caught up in the excitement of the planned night out. After all, it was Thursday evening, and the cast and crew had been eagerly anticipating this outing for days. With an unusual three-day weekend looming, the plan was to hit up some bars and clubs to celebrate being halfway through shooting.
But for you, the evening held a different fate. With your plans scuttled by the bruise on your face, you resigned yourself to a quiet night in. You tidied away the first aid kit and wandered into the kitchen, only to find it lacking in the essentials. A pang of annoyance prickled at the edges of your mind—perhaps you should have made a grocery run earlier. With a shrug, you resigned yourself to the inevitable and reached for your phone to order some takeout.
After placing your order with the familiar Thai restaurant you frequented, you settled onto the couch, opting for a classic romantic comedy to pass the time. The familiar banter and lighthearted plot provided a comforting backdrop as you awaited your meal. Just 15 minutes later, the doorbell chimed, prompting you to fetch your wallet and stride to the entrance, ready to collect your food. However, as you swung the door open, you were met with a surprising sight.
"Hey, how are y–" Esteban stood before you, a cheerful greeting on his lips quickly replaced by a look of concern as his gaze swept over your face.
Confusion etched across your features as you met his frantic gaze. "Hi, what are you doing here?" you asked, though warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of him.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, his tone urgent and tinged with worry.
"What?" you responded, taken aback by his sudden question.
Esteban's brows furrowed in concern, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. "Who did this to you? You can tell me," he pressed gently, his voice laced with worry.
You paused, momentarily puzzled by his urgency, before realizing what had prompted his concern. "Oh, no one, Esteban. It was just an accident," you reassured him.
But Esteban remained unconvinced, his expression hardening as he glanced over your shoulder around the apartment. "Is someone here? Do I need to call the police?" he asked, his gaze darting around the space as if expecting an intruder.
You shook your head, quickly moving to dispel his suspicions. "No, no, please don't," you urged, stepping aside to reveal the empty apartment behind you. "There's no one here, and nobody hit me. It's really not what you think," you explained, hoping to alleviate his concerns.
His eyes softened with understanding as he stepped into your apartment, scanning the space for any signs of trouble before his gaze finally settled on you. "What happened?" he inquired, his voice softer now as he focused his attention on you.
You felt a flush of embarrassment rising to your cheeks. "Don't laugh. It's embarrassing. But long story short, I dropped a box on my face, and it landed right on my eye," you admitted, hoping he wouldn't find the situation too ridiculous.
Esteban's expression shifted from concern to incredulity as he processed your explanation. "You dropped a box on yourself?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.
With a nod, you confirmed, "Yep."
Closing the distance between you, Esteban gently placed a hand on your arm, his touch warm and reassuring. "Who? Give me a name, and I'll handle it," he offered, his voice tinged with determination.
Your shoulders sagged at the persistence of his questioning, and you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. "There's no name to give, Esteban. I swear. That's really what happened," you insisted, hoping he would believe your explanation.
You closed your eyes and rubbed at your forehead, seeking relief from the dull ache that throbbed there, only to feel a wetness at your fingertips. Startled, you glanced down to find a small amount of blood staining your skin.
"Shit," you mumbled under your breath, cursing your own carelessness. You must have scratched at the small wound on your forehead without realizing it.
Looking back at Esteban, you were met with a look of genuine concern in his eyes. "I'll be right back. I just have to..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely to your forehead before retreating to the bathroom once more.
Fishing out the first aid kit from beneath the sink, you winced as you rose, the sudden movement causing you to bang your head against the edge of the sink. "Dammit," you muttered, eyes squeezing shut as you massaged the sore spot on your head. It felt like nothing was going your way today.
As you stood there, grappling with the mishaps of the day, a reassuring hand landed on yours, causing you to open your eyes and meet Esteban's gaze in the mirror's reflection. Without a word, he gently took the first aid kit from your grasp.
"Let me," he insisted, his tone soft but firm.
"I can handle it," you protested, turning to face him.
"Sit," he urged, tilting his head towards the side of the bathtub.
Caught off guard by his insistence, you hesitated for a moment before relenting, feeling the weariness of the day settling into your bones. You watched silently as Esteban meticulously washed his hands before kneeling in front of you, bringing himself to your eye level.
Rummaging through the first aid kit, he extracted a cotton ball with practiced ease. With a gentle touch, he placed a hand on your knee, coaxing them apart as he leaned in closer, his unwavering gaze locked on yours.
As Esteban gently dabbed at the wound on your forehead, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves at his proximity. Swallowing hard, you tried to focus on the conversation to distract yourself.
"What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be out like the others?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.
Esteban paused in his ministrations, his expression softening as he met your eyes. "I brought you some things. Medicine and chocolate," he explained, his voice gentle. "I saw your message, thinking you were sick. But you're not sick, right? I mean, apart from that," he added with a small gesture towards your injured face.
Glancing over his shoulder, you noticed the bag on the bathroom floor. Gratitude warmed your heart at his thoughtfulness, but it was quickly overshadowed by guilt.
"No, sorry. I just didn't want to go out looking like this," you confessed, your voice tinged with regret.
Esteban exchanged the cotton ball for a clean one and reached for an antiseptic solution, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he lightly guided your jaw to better access your injury.
"Tell me what happened. Exactly," he requested, his voice insistent but laced with concern.
You took a deep breath, recounting the events of the day, the details still fresh in your mind. You had been among the last ones on set, a common occurrence given the nature of your work. As you were packing up equipment into the car, a sudden slip on a patch of ice sent you tumbling to the ground. The fall itself had been painful, but the weight of a heavy equipment box crashing onto your face and striking your eye had left you reeling.
Despite the searing pain, your foremost concern had been the safety of the equipment, and you were grateful that none of it had sustained damage. The crew members, including the director, had helped you right away.
"And Bayona sent you to the doctor, right?" Esteban inquired, referring to the physician who was a fixture on set, primarily attending to the actors' well-being.
"He did," you confirmed quietly, averting your gaze momentarily. "But it's nothing major, so I didn't want to bother her. Besides, I wasn't even sure if she was still there."
Esteban's expression shifted to one of disbelief, his hand instinctively finding its place on your cheek. "Nothing major?" he repeated, his tone a mix of incredulity and worry.
"It looks worse than it is," you reassured him, attempting to downplay the severity of the situation.
"You could have a concussion. This is serious, nena," Esteban expressed with genuine concern, his use of the affectionate term sending a flutter through your chest.
Your cheeks flushed with warmth at the endearment, and your heartbeat quickened at his evident worry. The intimacy of the moment, with him tending to your wound, was not lost on you.
"Okay, I'll go see her tomorrow," you conceded, albeit reluctantly.
"When?" Esteban pressed, his concern evident in his tone.
"I don't know. At 10 a.m.," you replied, hesitating slightly before settling on a time.
"I'll go with you," Esteban offered without hesitation.
"Oh, no. You don't have to–" you began, but Esteban cut you off.
"Wasn't a question," he stated firmly, his gaze unwavering as it bore into yours. You could feel the warmth of his touch against your cheek, grounding you in his presence.
"Okay," you relented, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you surrendered to his unwavering support.
He removed his hand from your face, and a fleeting sense of disappointment washed over you as the warmth of his touch dissipated. Esteban searched for a small bandage and carefully applied it to the wound on your forehead.
"There. Done," he announced. With practiced efficiency, he packed up the first aid kit and rose from his kneeling position between your thighs.
"Thank you. Really," you expressed your gratitude sincerely, rising to your feet.
However, the sudden movement proved too much for you, and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you, causing black spots to dance in your vision. You faltered, your balance wavering, but before you could stumble, Esteban's hands were there, steadying you with a firm yet gentle grip on your waist and arm.
"Whoa, careful there," he cautioned, his concern palpable as he supported you.
You took a moment to steady yourself, gathering your composure before meeting Esteban's concerned gaze.
"You okay?" he inquired, his voice soft and reassuring.
You managed a slight nod in response, your throat feeling tight with a mixture of emotions. The energy between you seemed to shift subtly, a charged atmosphere enveloping the space, and you found yourself captivated by the depths of his gaze. His hair, now longer than when filming began, beckoned your touch, and you couldn't help but imagine the sensation of running your fingers through its strands. Your eyes traced the contours of his face, lingering on the freckles that dusted his cheeks before inadvertently settling on his lips.
The sudden sound of the doorbell shattered the moment, jolting you back to reality. Hastily, you averted your gaze, breaking the spell that had momentarily enveloped you.
"Uh, that's my food," you managed to say, glancing up at Esteban, only to find him looking at you with an intensity that made your heart race.
He cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "I'll get it," he offered, his voice slightly husky.
Before you could respond, he strode out of the bathroom, leaving you alone. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, realizing that your feelings for Esteban might be more intense than you had previously acknowledged.
As the sound of Esteban conversing with the delivery driver drifted through the apartment, you emerged from the bathroom, just in time to see him closing the front door behind him.
"Thank you," you said as he handed you the bag of food. "How much was it?" you asked, scanning the room for your wallet before spotting it on the table.
"I got it. Don't mention it," Esteban replied with a casual wave of his hand, his smile warm and genuine.
"No, come on. You've already done so much for me. Tell me," you urged.
He shrugged, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "I don't know. I forgot," he admitted with a hint of mischief.
"You forgot how much money you just spent? Seriously? You know what, I'll just guess. 30?" You reached for your wallet, only to have it snatched out of your hand by Esteban.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Esteban held your wallet up just out of your reach. You looked at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. His height advantage made it impossible for you to retrieve it, so you resigned yourself to the situation.
"Stop being childish," you chided him lightly, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at your lips at his playful antics.
"Just accept your defeat," Esteban teased, looking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Okay, okay. But I ordered a lot of food because I didn't want to go grocery shopping for the next few days, so at least let me share it with you," you suggested, only to pause mid-sentence as you realized that he might have other plans, like joining the others at the club.
"Unless—sorry, you probably want to get going, right?" you began tentatively.
"I'll stay," he interjected firmly, catching you off guard.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected declaration. "You sure?" you asked, searching his expression for any sign of hesitation.
"Yeah. Wouldn't be any fun without you anyway," Esteban replied with a warm smile. "And I have to make sure you don't hit your head on anything else," he added playfully.
A genuine smile spread across your face at his words. "What are we having?" he asked, his tone light and eager.
"Thai," you replied, feeling a rush of gratitude for his company as you placed the bag on the kitchen counter.
As Esteban unpacked the food from the paper bag, you eagerly retrieved the bag he brought you from the bathroom floor. Excitement bubbled within you as you made your way back to the living room and kitchen area. You peered into the bag, a delighted gasp escaping your lips.
"That's my favorite!" you exclaimed, a smile lighting up your face as you inspected the bar of chocolate nestled within the bag.
Moving to stand beside Esteban, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder in gratitude. Emboldened by the moment, you rose onto your tiptoes, intending to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek.
But as you leaned in, you hadn't anticipated Esteban turning his head at the same moment, causing your lips to land not on his cheek as intended, but on the corner of his lips.
With wide eyes, you quickly moved away, your apology rushing out in a jumble of words. "Shit. I'm sorry. I was going for your cheek, I swear. Oh my god, everything is going wrong today. I'm so sorry. This wasn't how I imagined it would go. Not that I've imagined it, I—"
Before you could finish your rambling, a warm hand gently cupped your jaw, silencing your words. The suddenness of his touch left you momentarily stunned, your breath catching in your throat as his lips met yours once more. For a moment, you stood there, stunned, unsure of what to do. Your heart raced in your chest, disbelief coursing through you.
Sensing your hesitation, he began to pull away, but instinct took over. With a surge of courage, you responded eagerly, returning his kiss with equal fervor, the world around you fading away as the moment enveloped you both in its intensity.
Your hand instinctively found its place on his shoulder, urging him nearer as his touch sent a rush of electricity coursing through you. With a deft movement, he guided your body until you were pressed against the counter, his closeness enveloping you in a heady haze. Esteban's gentle touch traced the curve of your cheek, his thumb inadvertently grazing the tender bruise around your eye. A sharp pang of pain flickered across your face, eliciting a wince from you.
Concern flickered across Esteban's features as he pulled back slightly. "Did I hurt you?" His voice was laced with worry, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
"No, it's fine," you reassured him, tugging him closer by his shirt, your desire for him outweighing any pain. Yearning for the warmth of his lips once more, you leaned in for another kiss, only to find him drawing back, making you pout.
A tender smile graced his lips as he gently caressed your lower lip with his thumb. "You're injured," he reminded you gently, his concern touching your heart.
"And I need your kisses to make me feel better," you confessed, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Esteban's lips. "Let's wait for this to heal, and then I'll kiss you as much as you want." His words were playful, but his gaze held a promise of genuine affection. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, and you fought the urge to break into a full grin, mindful of your bruised eye.
With the food plated, you both settled onto the couch, the movie serving as a mere backdrop to your conversation. As you ate and talked, the initial gloom of the evening gradually faded away, replaced by a warmth and comfort that enveloped you both. The hours slipped away unnoticed as you laughed, talked, and occasionally stole soft kisses at each other when the conversation lulled. What had begun as a dreadful evening with the mishaps earlier transformed into one you were certain would linger in your memory for a long time to come.
A/N: As always, would love to know what I think. Also is this the appropriate time to tell you guys that English isn't my first language?
Synopsis: 5 times you watch him kiss someone + 1 time he kisses you
Based on this request
Wordcount: 4.8k
Warnings: childhood friends to lovers, pining (a lot of it), angst, fluff, jealousy, happy ending
A/N: I struggled writing this one, so I'm a bit surprised that it's so long. It's not my best work but it gets better at the end. This is a bit inspired by the movie "Love, Rosie", but just a tiny bit.
1. Time
The indelible memory of the first time you watched him kiss someone remains etched in your mind, though it wasn't his fault.
It was Esteban's 10th birthday, a day brimming with anticipation as children from the neighborhood gathered to celebrate.
Living next door to Esteban, your friendship had blossomed quickly despite the small age gap. His warm demeanor and the welcoming embrace of his family had made you feel right at home. Together, you shared countless afternoons playing in each other's yards, forging a bond that went beyond mere proximity.
As the day of Esteban's birthday party approached, excitement bubbled within you, fueled by the prospect of revelry and shared joy. You poured your heart into selecting the perfect gift, pouring creativity and effort into each detail, even sacrificing one of your beloved glitter pens for the occasion. With your mother's help, the present was meticulously adorned.
You greeted Esteban's parents warmly, exchanging pleasantries with the familiar faces among the guests as you made your way through the lively gathering. Yet, despite the cheerful atmosphere, there was a nagging sense of anticipation stirring within you as you searched for the birthday boy.
Upon inquiring about his whereabouts, Esteban's parents informed you that he was likely outside, enjoying the festivities with the other children. With a smile, you excused yourself and made your way towards the back of the house, the excitement of presenting your carefully chosen gift bubbling within you.
However, as you rounded the corner, the sight that greeted you was anything but expected. Your steps faltered, and your heart skipped a beat as shock rippled through you, freezing you in your tracks.
Esteban, the birthday boy himself, was locked in an embrace with one of the neighborhood girls, their lips meeting in a fleeting moment of innocence. Clutching the carefully wrapped present in your trembling hands, you struggled to process the scene playing out before you.
As Esteban pushed the girl away, her laughter echoing in the air, he turned to find you standing there, a silent observer to the unexpected encounter. His bewildered gaze met yours.
"Did you see that? She kissed me," Esteban exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and confusion as he gestured toward the direction the girl had disappeared.
You nodded in understanding, suppressing the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. It struck a chord within you, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint why. You had just witnessed his first kiss.
Esteban wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "That was disgusting," he grimaced.
Unsure of how to address the situation, you quickly shifted gears, eager to lighten the mood and focused on the reason you were there - to celebrate his birthday.
"Here. Happy Birthday," you said brightly, presenting your meticulously wrapped gift with a wide grin.
Esteban's eyes lit up with excitement as he accepted the gift. His expression was genuine and filled with delight as he eagerly tore into the packaging. "That is so cool," he exclaimed, marveling at the contents of the present.
He pulled you into a tight hug, his familiar warmth enveloping you. "I have to show my mom," he declared, taking your hand in his and leading you back into the house, the weight of the earlier moment momentarily forgotten in the joy of the birthday festivities.
2. Time
You were all sitting in a circle playing truth or dare. You had navigated the truth questions with relative ease, relieved that none of them had ventured into more uncomfortable territory.
But then came the dare.
Your heart plummeted as the dreaded words fell from someone's lips, singling out Esteban for the next challenge. You should have seen it coming, really. In a game like truth or dare, anything was fair game, and you couldn't help but hope that luck would spare him from such a task. The dare to kiss someone.
However, as fate would have it, luck was not on your side that night.
As Esteban leaned in to fulfill the dare, a twinge of disappointment tugged at your heart, though you tried to push it aside. You weren't naive; you knew he wouldn't choose you. Esteban had transformed over the years, shedding his childhood innocence for a more mature demeanor. His hair now fell across his forehead in an effortlessly charming manner, and his smile held a boyish allure that captivated those around him.
Meanwhile, you felt as though you were lagging behind. While your friends gushed over crushes and shared stories of romantic encounters, you remained on the sidelines, unnoticed and untouched by the currents of young love. It wasn't that you minded being single. You were content to focus on your studies and pursue your passions without the distractions of romance.
But as Esteban moved to kiss her, a pang of envy gnawed at your insides. She was beautiful, perhaps the prettiest girl in school, and it stung knowing that she held the attention of many, including the one person you wished would notice you in the same way.
While you had harbored hopes that Esteban might be different from the other boys, his actions served as a sobering reminder. As their lips parted, a faint flush of pink tinted Esteban's cheeks, his smile reflecting the exhilaration of the moment. For a fleeting instant, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have him kiss you in the same way. Yet, such thoughts felt like idle fantasies, distant dreams that would never materialize into reality.
You chastised yourself for harboring such notions, knowing deep down that Esteban would never see you through the same lens as he did the girl he had just kissed. Perhaps you were simply too young for him, too naive to comprehend the complexities of romance that seemed to come effortlessly to others.
Suppressing the ache in your chest, you forced a smile onto your lips, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. Yet, behind the facade of cheerfulness, a sense of resignation settled over you, overshadowing any lingering hopes of ever being more than just friends with Esteban.
3. Time
Watching Esteban's passion for acting blossom over the years was a breathtaking experience. From his humble beginnings as a young enthusiast to the seasoned performer he had become, you marveled at his talent and dedication. You cheered him on every step of the way as he chased his dreams with unwavering determination. As his friend, you had witnessed the countless hours he poured into perfecting his craft, and it filled you with pride to see others recognize his talent as well.
You vividly recalled the excitement that lit up his eyes when he landed the opportunity to audition for the theater play. It was a momentous occasion, surpassed only by the sheer joy he exuded when he proudly announced that he had secured the lead role. His infectious enthusiasm was contagious, filling you with an overwhelming sense of pride and admiration for your childhood friend.
Naturally, you wouldn't miss the opening night for the world. Anticipation bubbled within you as you eagerly awaited the chance to witness Esteban shine on stage, bringing his character to life with the same fervor and dedication that defined his every performance. You had even managed to persuade your boyfriend to join you, though he seemed less enthused about the prospect. Still, you were eager to introduce him to the world of theater and showcase Esteban's remarkable talent firsthand.
As the curtains rose and the stage came to life before your eyes, you found yourself utterly captivated by Esteban's performance. Gone was the reserved demeanor of your best friend, replaced by a captivating presence that commanded the attention of every audience member.
Your heart swelled with pride as you watched him inhabit his character with such authenticity and dedication. Each line delivered with precision, each emotion conveyed with raw intensity, it was evident that Esteban had poured his heart and soul into bringing this character to life.
Yet, nothing could have prepared you for the moment when his character shared a kiss with the female protagonist. It caught you off guard, a surge of emotions washing over you as you watched the scene unfold before you. You hadn't realized that such a moment was part of the play, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the stage.
As Esteban's lips met hers with a passion, you couldn't help but wonder – again – what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such a kiss. Despite knowing that it was merely a performance, a scripted moment designed to evoke emotion and advance the plot, you couldn't shake the lingering curiosity that danced at the edges of your mind. He kissed her with such fervor, such conviction, that for a fleeting moment, you found yourself lost in the fantasy of what it might be like to experience such intimacy with him.
The sudden sound of a sneeze jolted you back to reality, the noise slicing through the haze of emotions that had clouded your mind. With a start, you remembered that your boyfriend was seated beside you, his presence a comforting reminder in the midst of your swirling thoughts.
Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you offered a small smile, hoping to mask the tumult of conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. He returned the gesture, oblivious to the storm raging within you as you struggled to reconcile your feelings.
Despite the warmth of his hand in yours, a nagging sense of discontent gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You couldn't shake the lingering image of Esteban's passionate kiss from your mind, nor the unsettling realization that he would repeat the gesture night after night on stage.
Forcing yourself to focus on the present moment, you turned your attention back to the performance unfolding before you, determined to push aside the unwelcome thoughts that threatened to consume you.
4. Time
As Esteban introduced you to her, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his demeanor, the softness in his gaze, and the gentle curve of his smile revealing a depth of emotion you had rarely seen before. It was unmistakable — he was in love.
Observing them together, you couldn't deny the difference. She wasn't his first girlfriend. You had witnessed the ebb and flow of his past relationships over the years. Some had been fleeting, others more serious, but none had elicited the same sense of contentment and joy that radiated from him now.
With her, it was evident. Esteban was truly happy, his laughter more genuine, his eyes brighter in her presence. There was an ease to their interactions, it was as if she had breathed new life into him. As you observed them, a bittersweet pang of realization washed over you—she was here to stay.
Their togetherness became a constant presence, the closeness of their relationship was palpable. They moved in synchrony, their bond evident in every shared glance and whispered conversation. It was natural, expected even, that they should be inseparable—they were a couple, after all.
Yet, amidst the joy you felt for Esteban's happiness, it inevitably shifted the dynamic of your cherished friendship with him to the periphery. A twinge of jealousy gnawed at the edges of your heart. You tried to push it aside, bury it in the depths of the past and beneath layers of rationalization and understanding. But it persisted, a constant ache in the recesses of your mind.
Even when Esteban refrained from public displays of affection, you couldn't escape the sight of their intimacy. Each kiss exchanged between them seemed to brim with love, a tangible manifestation of the bond they shared. And with each tender gesture, the longing for that kind of connection grew stronger within you, casting a shadow over your own desires. For what you yearned for but feared you might never have.
5. Time
You sat on your couch, anticipation bubbling within you as you clutched your phone in hand. When Esteban's message popped up with the link to the Frávega commercial he had been raving about, your heart fluttered with excitement. You were always eager to see him in his projects.
Yet, as you watched Esteban's commercial, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you, leaving you unsettled and unsure of how to process what you had just seen. There was no denying his talent—he was captivating, as always, his presence commanding the screen with effortless charisma.
But it wasn't his performance that troubled you; it was the narrative of the advertisement itself. From the initial stages of flirtation and kissing on the sidewalk to the challenges of parenthood, the commercial painted a vivid picture of a relationship unfolding before your eyes. And there was Esteban, portraying the devoted partner and the doting father with such conviction that it felt almost too real.
The commercial, no longer than 35 seconds, seemed to loop endlessly as you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away. It was a beautiful depiction of the stages of a relationship, but it struck a chord within you, stirring emotions you had long tried to suppress.
It was ironic, witnessing the life you had once imagined sharing with Esteban, now unfolding before your eyes, with him in the starring role. Despite the ache in your heart, there was a warmth in seeing him depict an exhausted but loving father, a role he seemed to embody effortlessly.
You recalled the conversations you had shared with him, the dreams he had confided in you about a future filled with love and family, though never with you. It was a life he had once yearned for, one that had seemed within reach when he was with her. But now, as you sat alone, watching him on screen, you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that washed over you.
Their breakup – over something he wouldn’t tell you about – had come as a shock, a painful reminder of the fragility of love and the uncertainty of the future. You had been convinced that she was the one for him, the missing piece that would complete the puzzle of his life.
The title of the commercial, "Almas gemelas" – soulmates, felt like a cruel twist of fate. It was as if the universe were taunting you, teasing you with the possibility of a love that may never be yours. You couldn't help but wonder if he had ever considered that you might be that person for him.
But such thoughts were futile, mere fantasies that had no place in reality. You had resigned yourself to the role of the supportive friend, his confidante, the one who stood by his side through thick and thin, but never his lover. And yet, as you closed the tab on your phone, you couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong in his last relationship.
One Time
As you animatedly recounted your thoughts on the film, Esteban listened attentively, his eyes alight with a mixture of gratitude and humility as he soaked in your words. It was moments like these, when you shared in each other's triumphs and celebrated each other's successes, that solidified the bond between you.
Staying at his apartment for a few days had become somewhat of a tradition whenever you visited. It was a comforting routine, one that allowed you to catch up on lost time and reconnect in the midst of your busy lives. And tonight, sitting at the kitchen counter of his cozy apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the late hour, the excitement from the early screening of "La sociedad de la nieve" still pulsed through your veins, fueling your conversation with Esteban.
You had taken time off work to attend the screening, eager to support your childhood friend in his latest endeavor. Though Esteban's family couldn't be there for the screening, their absence was overshadowed by the promise of their presence at the movie's premiere.
Having visited him on set multiple times during the filming of the movie, you had witnessed firsthand the toll that the role and the strict diet had taken on him. You had watched him push himself to the limit and it had filled you with a mixture of pride and concern. Yet, he had always reassured you that he was okay, his unwavering determination shining through even in the darkest of times.
Now, as you looked at him, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, you knew that every moment of hardship had been worth it. The movie was a masterpiece, and you couldn't have been prouder of your childhood friend.
"And you and Fran were so good in that scene. I just couldn’t look away from you. And don’t even get me started on the ending. I’m pretty sure I cried the whole time. It was so beautiful and heartbreaking and–"
As you poured out your thoughts on the film, your words flowing freely in your excitement, you hadn't noticed Esteban's gradual approach until he was standing remarkably close. His sudden proximity sent a jolt of awareness coursing through you, catching you off guard and leaving you momentarily breathless.
Lost in the depths of his gaze, you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of his stare, the warmth of his presence enveloping you.
As Esteban leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours, you felt a surge of panic grip you, your heart pounding erratically in your chest. Instinctively, you placed a trembling hand on his chest, a feeble attempt to create some semblance of distance between you, to shield yourself from the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to consume you.
"What– what are you doing?" you managed to stammer out, your voice betraying the nervousness that pulsed through you as you struggled to regain your composure, to quell the tumultuous storm raging within you.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you waited with bated breath for his response, the air thick with tension. And then, just as suddenly as he had moved closer, Esteban drew back, his expression unreadable as he retreated from the moment that had unfolded between you.
"Nothing," he replied softly, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he averted his gaze.
"Kuku," you called out to him, your voice a soft whisper tinged with a hint of shock, though he refused to meet your gaze as he continued to avoid your eyes.
"Just forget about it," he muttered under his breath, his tone heavy with a mixture of regret and resignation as he made his way out of the room, leaving you to grapple with the aftermath of the unexpected encounter.
As you watched Esteban retreat from the kitchen, his abrupt departure leaving you reeling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of disbelief that hung heavy in the air.
Stunned into silence, you remained rooted to the spot for a moment, the weight of his actions echoing in your mind as you struggled to make sense of the sudden shift in dynamics between you. Was he..? No. But he was trying to kiss you.
With a determined resolve, you hopped off the counter and hurried after him, your footsteps echoing in the quiet expanse of the living room as you sought to bridge the growing chasm that threatened to drive a wedge between you.
"Esteban," you called out to him, using his full first name in a feeble attempt to capture his attention, though he remained lost in the depths of his own thoughts as he paced back and forth across the room.
For a fleeting moment, his gaze flickered in your direction, revealing a tumult of emotions swirling beneath the surface as he struggled to come to terms with the turmoil that had arisen between you.
"What..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words to convey the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you, leaving the question hanging in the air, a silent plea for answers that lingered on your lips.
As Esteban took a deep breath in, struggling to articulate his feelings, you found yourself holding your breath. "I'm sorry, okay. I wasn't… It's just…" he began, his voice trailing off into an uncertain silence as he ran his hands over his face in a gesture of frustration.
You remained silent, your heart hammering in your chest as you hung onto his every word, desperate for an explanation that could make sense of the sudden moment that had shattered the normalcy between you.
"You were sitting there and talking like that, and I just had to," he continued, his voice tinged with a note of urgency as he struggled to convey the overwhelming surge of emotions that had driven him to take such a reckless leap of faith.
Tipping his head back, he ran a hand through his tousled hair, the strands falling in loose waves around his face. You couldn't help but notice how the length of his hair had changed, a subtle reminder of the passage of time and the evolution of your friendship over the years.
Finally, his gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a raw vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings. "I love you. More than a friend. I have for a long time," he confessed, his words echoing in the hollow expanse of the room as he laid bare his heart for you to see, his gaze searching yours for any sign of reciprocation.
Yet, you stood there frozen in disbelief, your mind reeling with the weight of his words as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what he had just revealed. Was this real? His words sunk in like an anchor dragging you down into the depths of uncertainty.
As you grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatened to consume you, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps you were caught in a fever dream, a surreal hallucination that would vanish with the light of day, leaving you to navigate the harsh reality of your own tangled emotions.
Esteban must have noticed the shock and confusion etched across your features, his own expression reflecting a mixture of resignation and apprehension. "Yeah. It's fine that you don't feel the same. I just thought, maybe there's a small chance you did. And... I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.
You blinked at him, your mind racing as you struggled to process the tumult of emotions that swirled within you. "No," you began, your voice barely more than a whisper as you shook your head in disbelief. "No, you don't love me."
Now it was Esteban's turn to wear a look of confusion, his brows furrowing in bewilderment as he searched your eyes for some semblance of understanding. "I do," he insisted, his tone firm and unwavering as he attempted to convey the depth of his feelings.
"Not like that," you countered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them, your own resolve hardening as you pushed back against his declaration.
But Esteban remained steadfast, his voice unwavering as he met your gaze with an unwavering intensity. "I know how I feel about you," he asserted, his words imbued with a quiet certainty that brooked no argument.
"You don't," you argued, a palpable tension between you that threatened to suffocate you both.
"I do," Esteban insisted, his voice carrying a note of earnest sincerity that resonated through the air like a silent plea.
But you remained resolute, refusing to yield to his assertion. "No," you countered firmly.
"Yes," Esteban persisted with a hint of frustration as he sought to impress upon you his feelings.
"In the 25 years that I've known you, you've never shown me any signs," you retorted, your irritation palpable as you confronted the stark reality of his confession.
Esteban's expression softened, his features contorted in a mixture of exasperation and affection. "I thought I was pretty obvious. Everyone around us knows that I love you. Maybe you're just oblivious," Esteban shot back as he struggled to bridge the gap between your perception and his reality.
A disbelieving laugh escaped your lips, the sound echoing through the room like a discordant melody. "So are you," you quipped.
"I'm not," Esteban asserted with a mix of disbelief and longing.
But you stood your ground, refusing to let him evade the truth any longer. "Yes, you are. Because if you weren't, you would have noticed that I've been in love with you for ages," you confessed, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air as you finally revealed the secret you'd harbored for so long.
"You love me?" Esteban's eyes widened in astonishment.
"That's not the point. The point is that you are an idiot. You can't just try to kiss me out of the blue," you chided, your words a mixture of exasperation and affection as you sought to convey the gravity of the situation.
A grin spread across Esteban's face despite your admonishment, his gaze softening as he moved closer to you. "You love me?" he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.
This time, you didn't back away. Instead, you breathed in his familiar scent, allowing yourself to be drawn into the magnetic pull of his gaze as you looked at him with a mixture of uncertainty and longing.
"You're insufferable," you murmured, unable to suppress the fondness in your tone as you teased him.
His smile widened at your mock insult, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "But you love me," he teased, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart flutter.
"I do," you admitted with a soft smile.
As he looked down at your lips, a surge of anticipation rippled through you, mingling with the warmth of affection that enveloped you in his presence. "I'm going to kiss you now," he declared, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
You nodded, your pulse quickening with anticipation as you tried to steady your shaky breathing. You were about to kiss your best friend—the person you had loved for what felt like a lifetime, the one who had always held a special place in your heart.
"Just thought I'd give you a warning," Esteban murmured, his breath ghosting over your skin as he leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing until your noses were touching.
You rolled your eyes at his comment, a soft chuckle escaping your lips before they were captured by his in a tender, intoxicating kiss. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a fire that had long smoldered between you.
Your hands instinctively sought purchase on his sweater, fingers curling tightly around the fabric as if anchoring yourself to the reality of this long-awaited moment. Meanwhile, his hands tenderly cradled your cheeks, his fingers threading through your hair with a gentle urgency that sent shivers down your spine.
As his lips melded with yours, a single word echoed in the recesses of your mind: soulmate. Esteban was your soulmate—the one person who understood you in a way no one else ever could.
Despite the countless arguments and disagreements that had punctuated your friendship, despite the occasional rifts that had threatened to tear you apart, you always found your way back to each other, drawn together by an invisible thread of fate. You had remained steadfast companions, each other's unwavering support in a world fraught with uncertainty.
You could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the softness of his lips moving against yours with a delicate precision that left you breathless.
As your lips slowly pulled away from each other, a tender smile graced your features, mirrored by the affectionate gaze in Esteban's eyes. His hand reached up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver of warmth cascading down your spine.
"I wanted to be your first kiss," you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but filled with vulnerability.
Esteban's expression softened even further at your words, a tender understanding dawning in his eyes. "Trust me, me too," he told you, his voice laced with a sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings.
Without another word, he closed the distance between you once more, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. And in that moment, as the world melted away around you, you knew that this was just the beginning—a beginning filled with the promise of love, laughter, friendship, and a lifetime of shared moments with the one person who had always held your heart in his hands.
A/N: I love the friends to lovers trope so much. Let me know what you think of the story.
eng: OMG this is fucking amazing!!! I loved the softness, it made me feel nervous and aaaagh, it has become one of my favorite fics, there isn't much content about this actor and it's nice to see someone writing about him.
esp: ay diossssd esto está bien pinche espectacular, me encantó la suavidad, me hizo sentir nerviosa y aghsdhshd se convirtió en uno de mis fics favoritos, no hay mucho de este actor y está chido ver que alguien escriba sobre él:)
I’m assuming the question refers to full-length fanfic.
Literally anything from @idocarealot’s masterlist ♡ I can rave about Grace’s fanfics all day because they’re all god-sent masterpieces, like the 7-part enzo x actress!reader fic. However, if i reaaaallly have to choose only one, I’d go for Wistfulness.
Why? A little backstory: I fell for Enzo when I first watched the movie, and watched the second and third time only for him.
But then on my fourth watch, I started becoming interested in this handsome handsome man who actually already caught my attention (all the way from my very first watch) and it was specifically the scene where he asked for a cig from Enzo, and then said “No, todavía no.” to answer Enzo’s question. Something about him lighting up the cigarette and having it in his mouth IGNITED SOMETHING FERAL IN ME 🐱
Anyways um, I had a dream about Kuku, and then I woke up and was like “Did i just fucking dream cheat on my mans” and proceeded to be in denial, telling myself ehhhh its probably only because i’ve been watching lsdln a lot and kept seeing his face in the process. And then I read wistfulness. WHILE and AFTER reading, I was like yep, I am definitely in love with Esteban Kukuriczka. So thank you, Grace, for bringing me to the realization that i am head over heels for Kuku.
Y’all think I’m finished?? No. I absolutely have to include I Wish I Knew.
Why? At the time, I had rewatched LSDLN more than five times. Not once did I find myself attracted to Matías (the fact that we’re the same age …… idk im into guys who are a lot older than me. he reminds me of this Argentine exchange student whom I got to know last year and started dating my friend). But I read the synopsis to this fic and its SOO up my alley. I adore childhood friends to lovers trope so so much I cant even emphasize it. So I gave it a go. Turns out to be one of my bestest decisions on this app tbh.
I love Grace’s version of Matí in the fic and bing bang BOOM before I knew it, I was stalking his instagram and looking up pictures of him. I started watched tiktok edits of Matí instead of scrolling past them like I used to before, and then added them to my favorites, along with Kuku and Enzo edits. Thank you again, Grace, for singlehandedly making me fall for the baby of the cast.
I know my answer has deviated from the question, but I cannot not mention @sthavoc’s fics when the words “favorite” and “fanfic” are thrown together. It is a crime to make me choose only one, so of course I’m going to say V’s entire masterlist. It’s fucking nirvana for us Enzo girlies. I wish I had interacted with V more before she got busy and was here around more often </3
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🪐 favorite shows / series of all time | 🌝 a show you would recommend to anyone
My ultimate comfort shows, im talking like, the ones I can quote the episodes by heart: — Criminal Minds, Modern Family
Favorite shows I unfortunately cant really quote by heart due to the sheer number of episodes: — Supernatural, CSI
Honorary mention, shows I gladly rewatch all the time: — Friends, Alice in Borderland, Sense8, La Casa de Papel
Also my comfort shows, but I have an on-and-off relationship with: — TBBT, The Office, Bones, Hannibal, NCIS, The Vampire Diaries
STOOOP!! I'm going to cry 😭 You should know you are the sweetest but I have to tell you, you are the sweetest. What did I do to deserve this much kindness?
I, too, fell for Enzo first (like everyone does because he's just easy on the eyes and he seems so kind) but I'm quite shocked it took you so long to appreciate Kuku. Though I'm glad you came to your senses and that I could help with that haha
You make it seem like I have this superpower of writing for anyone in the lsdln cast and make you fall in love with them. And that is so sweet.
Also, is that a challenge? No, I don't have the time for that 😪 I haven't written in so long but you're single-handedly making me motivated to make some time for writing. THANK YOU!!
Summary: Bucky Barnes is in love with you, his best friend. But not in his wildest dreams can he imagine that his feelings are reciprocated. In a futile attempt at moving on, he finds himself a girlfriend, Priya. Unfortunately for you, her presence in Bucky's life comes as an unexpected and rather unpleasant surprise and you have to deal with the pain of losing the man you love to another woman.
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Word Count: 47k
General warnings & themes: angst, mutual pining, girlfriend!oc, aliens and arms dealers, canon-level violence, some explicit sexual content, mentions of sexual trauma.
I will add warnings to each chapter but please tell me if I've missed anything.
A/N: Shoutout to @samodivaa and @scoonsalicious for your valuable input and for listening to my crazy for the last month!
I’m soo sad your enzo series is over 😭😭 will you continue to write for him? also Will you write anything additional to the series ? I just really loved it a lot 😭😭😔 (ima be real i tried to mssg u this before but my phone was acting up so idk if u got the mssg so if u did ignore this one BUT JUST KNOW I LOVW UR WRITINF 🙏🫡)
Aww please don't be sad! I would suggest rereading it haha
I will definitely write for Enzo some more but I'm not sure I'm going to write anything additional for the Enchanted series. I like how it turned out. And I want to get through all the other requests first :)
Thank you so much for reading and loving the series 🫶🏼
Synopsis: After befriending Enzo, you both agree to enter a PR relationship. However, as time passes, the lines between pretense and reality blur, making it increasingly challenging to maintain the facade.
Wordcount: 20.9k (Status: complete)
Warnings: fake dating, fluff, pining, tension, angst, jealousy, conflict, smut (seperate warnings in each part)
A/N: While it's still a x reader, the reader has a backstory throughout the story. This was supposed to be a mini-series, but I got carried away. Pictures don’t determine the reader’s skin color.
sometimes, you write that thing because it makes you happy. and it leads you to finding people who feel happy from it. you all might not live happily ever after, but for a moment—a pause in the day-to-day—you smile, as they smile, and it’s enough.
Synopsis: You and Enzo get back to the hotel after the award ceremony and finally give in to the tension between you.
Wordcount: 3.9k
Warnings: MDNI, smut, oral (f rec & a bit m rec), fingering, dirty talk, degradation, p in v sex, fluff
A/N: The way that this is the longest chapter and it's basically just pure smut. It's also the first time I wrote smut, so let me know what you think.
Read Part 6 here & Series Masterlist & Masterlist
As the elevator doors sealed shut, enclosing the two of you in a confined space, the palpable tension crackled in the air, electrifying the atmosphere with an unspoken anticipation. Enzo's proximity seemed to amplify the thrumming pulse of desire coursing through your veins, his presence an irresistible magnetic force that drew you closer with each passing moment.
Instinctively, your fingers navigated the panel of buttons, selecting both his floor and yours. Throughout the brief ascent, neither of you broke the charged silence, your gazes locked in a silent exchange laden with simmering intensity.
The elevator glided to a halt, and the doors slid open with a muted whisper, revealing Enzo's designated floor. Yet, despite the invitation extended by the gaping entrance, he remained rooted in place, his unwavering gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that left you breathless.
In that fleeting moment, as the realization of the night's possibilities dawned upon you, you found yourself unable to suppress the increasing pulsing between your legs. As the elevator doors slid shut, enclosing you both in a cocoon of anticipation, the soft hum of the ascending lift filled the air. The elevator doors parted once more, revealing the corridor leading to your hotel room, and a surge of anticipation coursed through your veins.
You led the way down the hallway, the soft glow of the corridor lights casting a halo around you. The sound of Enzo's footsteps lingering behind you echoed in sync with your own, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. With each step, the air crackled with electricity, the tension between you reaching a fever pitch as you approached your destination.
Fumbling slightly with your key card, you felt Enzo's presence close behind you, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. His hand brushed gently against your hair, sending shivers cascading down your spine as his lips met the soft expanse of your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
With a deft motion, you finally managed to unlock the door, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness of the hallway. Swiftly turning around, you met Enzo's gaze with a mixture of desire and longing, your fingers tangling in the silk of his tie as you pulled him closer.
With a boldness born of unspoken passion, you took a step backward into the room, your eyes never leaving his, a silent invitation lingering between you.
In a heartbeat, his mouth came crashing down to yours, a fiery collision of lips and tongues that ignited a blaze of desire within you. With a swift movement, he closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the intimate space as you were enveloped in a world of shared longing.
His touch was electric against your waist, his hand guiding you effortlessly against the wall, his body pressing deliciously against yours. In that moment, there were no words, no pretenses—just the raw intensity of desire igniting between you, fueling the flames of passion that threatened to consume you both.
A large hand gripped your hair by the base of your skull as you kissed, and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced. There was an undeniable connection between you that made the kissing seem almost effortless as if your lips were designed to be together. You felt swept away in a frenzy of sensation and desire, and you could barely remember anything else but the passionate kisses you exchanged with him.
The feeling of Enzo's warm breath against your skin sent a jolt of arousal through your system, making your lips cling ever more closely to his. You were unable to conceal the whimper as his lips left your own, trailing across your jaw and down your neck. As your fingers clawed through his hair, inhaling his cologne, his grip loosened, letting your head fall limply against the wall.
With your head tilted back, you exposed your throat for easy access to him. He took advantage of this by lingering on the sweet spot right at your ear, sucking on it gently, and sending goosebumps across your skin. The heat from his touch was exhilarating and brought an incredible sensation of pleasure as he left soft kisses along your neck, eliciting soft moans and gasps from you.
When gentle kisses gave way to rougher, more demanding touches, Enzo's teeth began to nip, causing you to let out pleas and whimpers that indicated just how much you liked it. Your hand went to the nape of his neck to pull him impossibly closer; unable to get enough of Enzo no matter what. Feeling that, he smirked against your skin as he groped your breast over your dress, making you squirm even more.
The arousal traveled low and heavy through your body, sending tingling sensations through your breasts and tightening them into sensitive peaks. The heat rose up to your head, where it created a hazy cloud of need and desire.
Enzo's hands roamed up and down the length of your body, groping and caressing every part of you, his touch searing through the thin material of your gown and his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. When he pulled the straps of your dress down, his open-mouthed kisses drifted to the soft skin of your exposed collarbone and down the curve of your cleavage, claiming every inch of you.
The passion between you was all-consuming, and there was no more denying the attraction that had always been so obvious between the two of you. Squirming and arching away from the wall, you found yourself in his arms as the subtle movement of your body gave him space to slide his hand down to cup your ass, pressing tightly against the soft flesh. His hips rubbed against yours, pushing your bodies together, leaving no space between you untouched.
"Fuck," you let out in a rushed breath when you felt just how hard he was through his pants.
Enzo pulled away, looking at you with a heavy and almost panting breath. The way that you were locked on each other's eyes added to the heat between you, as your breath quickened and lust and desire filled the room.
"I've wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you," Enzo confessed, his voice a deep, resonant growl that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.
Your fingers tugged at his suit jacket, a silent plea for him to shed the barrier between you. "I don't want this to just be a one-time thing," you murmured with urgency and longing.
"Neither do I. Fuck this fake shit." Enzo smiled softly, leaning down to leave a soft, lingering kiss on your lips as he removed his jacket. His hands were on the move, sliding down your thighs, caressing every curve along the way.
With a smooth and fluid motion, he lifted you up in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and carried you towards the bed. He walked with a firm and determined pace until your legs hit the edge of the bed, prompting you to sit on the soft duvet with your hands propping you up.
You gazed up at him, breath catching in your throat from the intensity of his kisses. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing the sinewy strength of his forearms. "Lay back for me, nena," he said, his voice low and seductive.
Without hesitation, you did as he instructed, reclining back onto the soft mattress, watching as his hazel eyes darkened with lust. As you laid there, Enzo's hand went to your foot, lifting your leg up and removing your heel.
He followed with the other shoe, tossing it aside carelessly before bringing your leg up and placing a gentle kiss on your ankle. The action sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, and your head fell back onto the mattress as he trailed kisses from your shins to your knees. Each delicate brush of his lips against your skin sent waves of heat coursing through you, igniting a fire that blazed with a fierce intensity.
As he was moving closer and closer to where you needed him most, he spread your legs open and his lips traveled along your inner thighs, the anticipation driving you mad. His hand bunched the skirt of your dress up around your waist, revealing your panties.
He stopped just shy of your core, instead, placing a teasing kiss on your hipbone, making you whimper and squirm beneath him. Then he continued to kiss and lick and nip along the line of your panties. The thin material did nothing to hide your arousal, and the feel of his mouth so close to where you craved him had you dripping wet.
"Enzo, please," you begged, needing him to relieve the ache between your legs.
His breath ghosted over your panties as he chuckled slightly. "Aren't you desperate?"
Before you could answer him, your breath hitched in your throat when his tongue slipped out and teased at your slit, dragging across the fabric. His hands came up to pull your underwear down, revealing your wet and glistening pussy to him.
The sight made him groan and he licked his lips hungrily. With wide eyes, he gazed at you, silently seeking permission. Your hands fisted the sheets as you nodded eagerly, and without wasting any more time, he dove right in, licking a stripe along your folds and gathering the wetness on his tongue.
A moan escaped your lips as you felt him lapping between your slick lips. It was an incredible sensation and the hottest and most intimate thing you had ever experienced. The pleasure was intense, and it felt like every nerve ending was on fire.
"You taste so fucking good," Enzo growled as his tongue swirled around your clit, sending shocks of ecstasy shooting through your body.
Murmuring his name, your hips bucked up against him at the feeling. Your legs squeezed together, pressing his head deeper into your thighs. He was relentless in his ministrations, eating you out like his life depended on it, and you couldn't get enough.
His hands parted your thighs firmly, keeping them from snapping shut again. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you lost yourself in the overwhelming pleasure of his tongue on you, swirling and thrusting and teasing you. At this point, you were practically riding his face, rocking your hips against him, seeking more friction.
You couldn't hold back the whimpers and moans that were pouring from your mouth as he fucked you with his tongue. You carded your fingertips through his hair and tugged lightly. This made him moan against your pussy, the sound deep and vibrating, filled with the gratification of giving you pleasure.
Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he added a finger, sinking into you and curling inside, hitting just the right spot. You moaned even louder at the action, your eyes rolling back as your back arched off the bed. "Yes, right there. P–please."
The wet sounds of his tongue working on your clit and his finger pumping in and out of you were music to your ears. His fingers picked up in pace and you could feel the coil in your belly tightening, the pressure building higher inside you.
"I'm gonna—gonna…," you whined, the words escaping you as your hips rutted in desperation.
Enzo was relentless in his pursuit to make you come, and he sucked on your clit with renewed vigor. It wasn't long before you reached the precipice of your release, the pleasure was too much and you couldn't hold on.
Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm washed over you, your slickness coating his tongue as he continued to lap at you, dragging every last bit of pleasure out of you. Your hips stuttered and you moaned incoherently, completely overtaken by the sensation.
He slowed his movements, giving you a few moments to recover before gently removing his fingers and kissing the inside of your thighs. As you collected your breath, you saw Enzo slipping his fingers into his mouth.
You watched him suck on them with a low, satisfied groan before you decided to pull him up from between your legs and kiss him fiercely, tasting yourself on his tongue. His mouth moved against yours, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace.
"That was... wow," you mumbled against his mouth. A smirk danced on his lips.
Feeling that he was overdressed, your hand drifted down his chest, feeling his muscles through the shirt and pulling it out of his pants. With trembling fingers, your hand went under his shirt to touch his smooth skin as your other hand tugged on his tie.
"You have too many clothes on," you complained as you started undoing his buttons.
"Let me take care of that," Enzo said, sitting back up and standing in front of the bed, removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, all while watching you through half-lidded eyes.
Your hand went to your back, opening the zipper of your gown and letting it fall around your hips. The way Enzo's eyes raked over your figure, his fingers momentarily frozen in their actions, was enough to make you whimper, but you held it in. Yet, you felt the heat rising in your skin as he drank in the sight of your exposed skin and naked breasts.
"Fucking perfect," Enzo groaned as his gaze roamed over you.
Slowly, he shrugged off his shirt, exposing his chiseled torso. The air around you felt electric, charged with anticipation as you both took a moment to appreciate the other's form, your eyes widening at the sight of his body. Without a second thought, you wiggled out of your dress, moving your now fully naked body closer to Enzo.
Kneeling in front of him on the bed, you tugged him to you by the nape of his neck, kissing him desperately. His hands were tangled in your hair and groping your breast, kneading the soft flesh and pinching your hardened nipple. Moaning into the kisses, your mouth traveled to his neck and his chest while your fingers trailed up his thigh, eliciting a shudder from him.
You felt the fabric of his pants straining against his hardness, and his cock twitched when you cupped him over the clothing. His groan reverberated through the room as your hand drifted to his belt and began working on the buckle.
"Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth.
Unzipping his pants, you reached in and gripped his shaft, tugging it out and running your thumb over the tip. Enzo's head fell back with a low growl as his cock hardened fully in your hand. Your gaze explored his thick length and every veiny ridge.
Enzo's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, watching as you licked your lips and looked up at him through your eyelashes. His pupils were dilated and his eyes were dark with desire. You couldn't help but want to taste him.
In an instant, you leaned forward and ran the tip of your tongue across the tip of his cock, causing him to shiver and grunt. The taste of his precum wasn't unpleasant, and the way he groaned when your tongue ran along the length of him made you want to keep going.
You swirled your tongue around the head before taking him in your mouth, inch by inch. You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks as you worked his shaft, making him hiss, his hips thrusting forward. Enzo's hand grabbed your hair and pulled you off him.
With big eyes you looked up at him, thinking you did something wrong. However, a smile stretched across his face as his hand went to cup your chin.
"Chiquita, I love your mouth on me, but I need to be inside you," Enzo explained, and the words caused a surge of pride to rush through you.
Your mind reeled at the thought of him being inside you, the sheer size and girth of his cock already giving you a tingle. His eyes went to his pants on the floor and you already knew what he was looking for.
"Birth control," you said quickly. "And I'm clean."
Enzo's gaze snapped up to meet yours. "Me too."
Without a word, you laid back down again, putting your naked body on display for him. The hunger in his eyes as they roamed over your bare skin was evident and the heat radiating from his body as he crawled toward you was exhilarating.
He leaned down, this time kissing the sensitive spot between your breasts, causing you to gasp and squirm again. His mouth went to one of your hardened nipples, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive bud. You let out a high-pitched squeak when he bit down.
"Fuck, you turn me on so much with the noises you make," Enzo groaned, teasing his hard length against your folds.
"Please, Enzo, just…," you whimpered, clutching his hair.
"Please what?” Enzo asked, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.
The anticipation was killing you and turning you on at the same time. You had never wanted anything as much as you wanted him right now.
"Want you to ruin me," you breathed.
His eyes darkened at your words and the way he looked at you like he was a starving man and you were his next meal, made your heart beat faster. You didn't have to tell him twice. Enzo shifted, aligning himself with your entrance and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.
A moan escaped your lips at the feeling of being stretched and filled. It had been a long time since you had felt like this, and no one had ever been as big as him.
"Goddamn," Enzo breathed in your ear, swallowing hard. "I knew you'd feel this good."
The sensation of his veiny cock was almost too much. He pulled back, only to thrust inside you again. Your mouth hung open, moaning his name. The stretch was a welcome burn and the feeling was indescribable. Your hand found his broad shoulder, your nails digging into his skin.
Hitching one of your legs higher, Enzo tipped his head down, watching your hole swallow him. All you could do was toss your head back on the pillow and gasp at the new position.
Enzo's mouth sucked on your neck as your moans paired with the sounds of skin slapping together and the thudding of the headboard against the wall filled the room.
"Harder," you pleaded at the ecstasy consuming you.
Then he pulled out, only to violently slam his hips back into yours again, letting himself lose control and picking up the pace. Your moans turned to screams as Enzo's thrusts became harder and faster, his hips pounding into you relentlessly.
"Is that what you wanted? To be fucked like a whore?" Enzo hissed, his voice ragged.
You could only nod frantically, Enzo's hands moving to grasp your wrists, pinning them above your head and fucking into you at a bruising pace. Your mind went blank as you clenched around him.
His grip on your wrists tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic. His other hand moved between your bodies, rubbing rough, tight circles over your clit. Your entire body quivered with pleasure as Enzo fucked you, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer.
Your breathing became more shallow and your thighs started to tremble, your core tightening as you climbed higher and higher towards your release.
"Enzo. I–I can't," you cried, the feeling becoming too intense.
"Yes, you can," Enzo groaned into your ear, the muscles of his arms tensing and his eyes squeezing shut as he continued to pound into you. "Come for me."
His command was enough to push you over the edge, screaming his name. Your back arched, and your hips bucked against his as your orgasm washed over you, white-hot pleasure surging through your veins. Your eyes were pricked with tears, Enzo's head dropping to the crook of your neck as you clenched around him.
Enzo's thrusts grew sloppy and frantic as he chased his own release. His grunts and groans became deeper, more animalistic as he came, spilling inside you and filling you up. The sensation made you moan as his thrusts became slow and deep, riding out the high.
Finally, he stopped with a panting breath, his body limp. The only sounds in the room were of the two of you trying to catch your breath, both sweaty and sticky, and the smell of sex in the air. After a few moments, Enzo pulled out, his cum dripping down your thighs as he pushed himself up and rolled down beside you on the bed.
His arm enveloped your waist, drawing you closer to him, and you nestled against his chest, feeling contentment wash over you, a smile lingering on your lips. You relished in the warmth of his embrace, not wanting this moment to fade away.
Enzo's voice broke the silence, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear as he asked, "You okay?"
With a smile, you nodded, feeling a surge of happiness coursing through you. "I'm more than okay."
A chuckle escaped him at your response. Propping yourself up on his chest, you peered into his eyes, a playful glint dancing in your own. "So... what do we do now?" you inquired, a hint of anticipation lacing your words.
"Well, seeing as everyone already thinks we're in a relationship, I suggest we just keep going. But on one condition," Enzo proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
You arched an eyebrow, intrigued by his proposition.
"I'm taking you out on a date tomorrow. A real one. And we don't tell our teams where we're going, so they can't call the paps on us," he continued, his voice laced with determination.
Your smile widened at the thought, excitement bubbling within you. "I'd like that."
"And after that, I'm going to ask you to be my girlfriend and you will hopefully say yes. And then I'm going to make so much love to you that you will have trouble walking the next day," he added with a playful squeeze of your waist, eliciting a joyful giggle from you.
Your heart skipped a beat at the prospect, and you couldn't contain your grin as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his.
"Deal," you murmured against his lips, sealing the agreement with a tender kiss, your hand tracing the contours of his smooth chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
"However," you began, sitting up and throwing one leg over his hips, straddling him. "You can always just carry me to our date tomorrow, right?" You smirked at him playfully, grinding against him.
Enzo groaned, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. "Guess I can."
You beamed at him, leaning down for another kiss, a sense of giddiness and bliss filling your heart. As your lips met his, you felt as if every puzzle piece had finally fallen into place. The transition from a fake relationship to embracing genuine feelings had been gradual, marked by stolen glances and touches shared away from prying eyes. But in that moment as you pulled back slightly, meeting Enzo's gaze, you found a reflection of your own emotions in his eyes.
A/N: Wow. This is it. Thank you to everyone who made it this far. Thank you to everyone liking, commenting, and/or reblogging. I feel like I'm always repeating myself but it honestly means a lot. This was a pleasure to write and I hope it was enjoyable to read. I would love to know what your favorite moment from this series was.
