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mv1simp · 3 months ago

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Dark Paradise ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend’s Lil Sister!Reader

everytime I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise, no one compares to you...

in which your pining for your older brother’s handsome best friend, Max Verstappen, results in him finally giving you his affections after you hatch a diabolical plan. too bad you had no idea max was far more diabolical than you!! (he can match your freak) 🥺

content includes: PURE SMUT LOL, Dubcon, dark!max, drunk reader, innocent virgin reader, manipulation, daddy kink, spit kink, size kink, dom/sub vibes. 18+ MDNI. this is embarrassing i was bored and horny and ended up writing 5.5k??

your older brother’s best friend!max has always ignored you even though you’ve had a crush on him since you were little. it didn’t matter that your families had grown up together and you had attended all his karting races since you were a kid, cheering him and your brother on from the sidelines, or that you were always there with your cute smile and pigtails to say you did so good, maxie, next time for sure when he had his rare losses, or when he was 21 and fighting for his first championship and his father’s expectations were heavier than ever and he didn’t have to explain anything to you, who grew up in a household with a father very much like jos and would rub his arm in a comforting way, an understanding look in your eyes everytime he and his dad fought. it all didn’t matter cause despite your constant affections, max still acted like he couldn’t care less about you whenever you saw him, the only thing seemingly on his mind being racing.

except tonight -

tonight, he’s forced to take little innocent virgin!you home after you get too drunk at a party. you’re whining in defeat, cheeks puffed out against your pink lipglossed lips, pouting and all, cuz you had worn the perfect lil outfit in all his favourite colors, your sexy curves on display and makeup done to perfection, just how you knew he liked it from the one time he had complimented it. and you had a plan - to show him that you were all grown up, to make max go crazy over you for once instead - and you were just in the middle of flirting with Cha, innocently fluttering your lashes at the handsome Monegasque driver who had none of max’s coldness and was all to happy to amuse your attentions on him - when your stupid older brother had shown up on the dance floor and demanded max drop you home on his way back to his, putting an early end to your plan to finally make out with the Dutch champion tonight!!

instead of making out with you in a steamy session in a dark club corner that you had imagined, he’s guiding you into his sleek expensive Aston Martin, large hands coming into contact with your perky lil tits and soft waist as he buckles you in, making you moan and giggle sloppily, all the alcohol loosening all your inhibitions and making your deepest fantasies spill out as he settles into the drivers seat, sorryy maxie this just reminds me of a naughty dream i had once with you inside the cockpit of your red bull car

the tall Dutch man is silent as he levels an intense stare at you and reaches his hand up to your face and you gasp, thinking your dream is coming true - only for him to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before turning away and starting the car. you pout, embarrassed, thinking that your plan failed, and are silent for the rest of the ride, your only solace being his warm palm resting on top of your thick thigh, easily wrapping around the width of it.

he helps you out of the car without any prompts, bending down to pick you up and place you over his big shoulder when you stumble in your strappy gold high heels, one hand gently on your ass to secure you. You giggle again as he crossed the threshold into the apartment, giddy from the attention and physical touch you’re getting from him, and you reach down to smack his bum with a drunken laugh.

you feel the front of his chest rumble at your slap and it sends a shiver right in between your legs, to your little pussy which had already started becoming soaked to moment you had seen him across the club that night, in a plain muscle tee which stretched across his broad shoulders and an expression even stormier than usual as his eyes met yours across the club, narrowing as he watched you rub your pretty pink manicured fingers up and down Charles’ biceps.

he sets you down and you blink cuz this isn’t your house, omg maxie is this your penthouse? you’re looking around in awe cause you’ve never been allowed over before. you’re so distracted that you don’t notice the smirk on his face as his ice blue eyes darken looking at you twirling around his living room. he palms his aching cock and thanks whatever fucked up god let him get lucky tonight - just you and him, finally alone - and he knows just how eager you’ve always been to please him. he hasn’t missed the pining, lovesick looks you always shoot him, the jealous stares at his latest model girlfriend of the month. He admits that he never took it seriously at first, seeing you just as a little sister-

but fuck you had come back last summer after finishing college - with your mechanical engineering degree and first class honours to make your father proud - looking like his own personal wet dream. Cute lil perky tits and a juicy ass squeezed into the tightest dresses in pastel florals, highlighting your sun kissed tan skin, with your eyelined wide doe eyes as you gazed up at him completing your innocent look. But he knew firsthand you were anything but innocent when he walked past you sunbathing in your new string bikinis, tits pushed up fully on display with your nose buried in one of your romance novels. He caught a glimpse of a sentence on his way past - he shoved his hot, aching member into her warm heat as she moaned in pleasure and begged him for more, more - making his eyes widen before he smirked, this is the garbage you had always been reading? He knew you weren’t innocent when he was sleeping over in the guest room neighbouring your bedroom and heard your cute little voice moan for him in the dead of the night, maxie please please please i want you, I need it, please maxie make me come accompanied by the quiet buzz of your tiny baby pink bullet vibrator. Fuck, that had been hot. That had been the start of max’s own twisted fantasies about fucking you, owning you, completely corrupting you - that he hadn’t acted on out of loyalty to your brother, out of the expectation that the drivers should only be with models and not with innocent childhood friends who now worked at the Ferrari engineering team. After all, there were plenty of hot girls throwing themselves at his feet and it was easy enough to pick one, fuck them from the back, and pretending it was your sweet innocent face instead that looked up at him, begging for more.

and oh, did he miss your face, because you had made a point this year to avoid acting like his stupid, lovesick fangirl and move on after catching wind through the Monaco rumour mill of his weekly hookups. You’re a grown woman now, with a job and a new glow up, and you don’t need him!! - or so you keep having to tell yourself.

then, a few months ago, he’s took out his fourth world championship and everyone, including you who had been invited to tag along with your brother, had been sending it in an absolute rager of a yacht party that red bull had thrown when he stumbled upon a whispered conversation you were having with your girlfriends. how can you still be a virgin?? you went through college without a single one night stand? Girl, you need to get dicked down immediately! your best friend’s voice had been slightly raised in shock, making it all to easy for max to overhear and stop outside the secluded room, out of your view. You giggled, drunk, at the scandalized look on your friends face, I know, i know!! I just can’t do it, it all goes too fast for me and i can’t get turned on everytime i try to hook up with guy, ya know? So I’m just going to save myself for when i meet the guy I’m in love with.

your friend gave you a knowing look, a guy you love -meaning max, right? you flushed at her words, adamantly denying it. No! No, I’m so over him. He’s such a player, and always so arrogant just cause he can drive a car fast. Besides, my big bro said max only won the championship by being a dirty driver, he has no class at all. I support Charles now!

your words had instantly made max hard, cause no fucking way, on top of this perfect girl who seemed to always know everything about him, always knew what to say, understood him in a way none of his previous girlfriends ever had - this girl was still a virgin because the only one she was in love with was him? there was no more resolve left in max, he was going to absolutely ruin you. he’d made things difficult for himself by ignoring your attention for so long, to the point you were clearly angry with him and were calling him stupid names like dirty driver. but that didn’t matter. Whatever max wanted, he always got - and right now, with you dancing around his luxurious living room, he was going to take what he wanted - your sweet, virgin pussy - even if you weren’t ready to give it to him so easily. you’d understand later, he was sure. After all, you were always going to be his anyways - claiming your virginity was just his way of marking his territory.

Schat, he calls, drawing your attention back to him and you giddily run back into his arms, laughing in delight as he runs his hands up your waist, to your cute face and tilting your chin up before finally, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss. you sigh breathily into it, he feels so good and so warm and so big against you, and you push yourself closer to his muscular chest, your tits flush against him, pulling at his tshirt in an effort to get it off and he breaks free for a second to easily pull it off himself for you. Good girl, my sweet girl, mihn liefje, always so beautiful for me, aren’t you? Your head spins from all the praise max bestows on you, the mixed dutch and english words that you’d only ever dreamt of hearing from him. his palm unexpectedly drops down from your waist then to your juicy ass, squeezing aggressively and you can’t help the gasp that comes out of you. Max immediately slides his tongue into your open mouth, turning the innocent romantic kiss into a dirty, steamy make out - just what you always wanted!! you’re internally squealing in your success, patting yourself on the back for your clever plan. too bad you could never have predicted just how little control you had over the situation and that you were instead exactly where max wanted you ❤️

you trust max soooo much and he’s sooo dreamy and you’re so caught up in him that you can’t keep track of what happens next. you can’t figure out how you suddenly ending up in his lap with his large hand up your miniskirt, pumping a thick finger in and out of your tight little pussy, making loud obscene shlick shlick shlick noises with each movement as he buries it right until you can feel the cool kiss of the metal ring he wears. his other hand is locked around your throat, replacing the sparkly choker you were wearing earlier, and your skimpy white lacey g-string is stuffed in your mouth, already drenched in your drool. but you don’t want to annoy him by asking dumb questions when he’s finally paying attention to you, instead saying please maxie please I’ll be so good as you lean against him and continue to grind your thick ass back against his - phone? you ask dumbly.

he throws his head back and laughs and you get starry eyed hearing it, so entranced that you dont even notice as he unzips himself and takes his thick veiny cock out until he starts filthily slapping it against your little clit, making you squeal and jump away from it with little success as his strong arms cage you from behind against his broad chest.

!! its so big maxie, im scared, it wont fit, please maxie, its all too fast- you start whining frantically when he ever so gently removes your ruined panties from your mouth, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your wet lips, mentally making a note to abuse this hole of yours on the next round.

but schatje, you did this to me, my pretty girl, this is all cuz of you, because you’re always wearin those cute lil’ dresses and bending over and shaking ur ass when I come visit, cuz you were trying to make me jealous tonight by grinding on Charles, and now you have to fix it, right liefdje? Don’t act like this isn’t what you planned, you secretly wanted to be a dirty slut for me all along, didn’t you?

his rough accented voice whispering filthy things in your ear, switching between praise and pure filth, makes you even more whiny and desperate for him, writhing around on his thick thighs and he slaps your plump ass to punish you for teasing him again. His roughness making you squeal, eyes rolling and tongue slipping out of your mouth when one of his thighs, still covered by his denim jeans, part your legs wide open and push up against your sopping wet pussy.

seeing your expression, max doesn’t waste a second in pulling your throat back against his shoulder and dropping a ball of his spit right into your open mouth. he grins when your eyes practically develop hearts in them from the filthy treatment and your pussy flutters around his thick fingers as he renters you with two fingers this time - he always knew you were gonna be such a good, obedient cockdrunk whore for him.

here, don’t worry schat, I’ll be nice for you, jus’, just the tip, okay? He soothes, pressing gentle wet kisses along your exposed neck, lulling you into a false sense of safety so you furiously nod and drool some more when he tells you to be a good girl, his stupid lil slut, and glides the pink, leaking tip of his cock into your folds. Guides it back and forth, up and down, coating himself in your juices until he feels you go completely lax in his arms, overwhelmed by how good he makes you feel. it’s already soo wet and soo sticky but it doesn’t matter cause maxie promised he was wearing a condom…right? Right?

shhh yes schatje, yes, it’s just so wet cuz I - he easily leans forward over your petite, half undressed frame and spits again, this time his saliva landing right on your exposed clit- I’m just making your sweet pussy nice and wet for me, yeah? the pounding in your head gets even worse because ohmygod maxie, it feels soo good, ah, ah, ahh!

you’re in cloud 9, living out your wildest fantasies in max’s lap, so clouded in lust you don’t even look down again when you start to feel an aching stretch between your legs. if you’d looked you would’ve seen that max had already broken his promise and had bullied a good third of his big, aching cock into your pussy. by the time you collect yourself enough to notice how far inside he was and open your mouth to protest, he manoeuvres you off him easily, making you cry out at the loss of him, and lifts you with no struggle and carries you into his bedroom, where the Monaco full moon streams in through open French doors, discarding his pants and boxers on the way. You tightly wrap your legs around his rock hard waist, grinding your desperate pussy against his abs while leaning up to join in another filthy open mouthed kiss, drool leaking out the sides of your mouth.

he tosses you onto his king size bed - you cant believe you’re finally in his bed!! - and holds both your wrists down above your head with one hand, the other snaking down your body, squeezing your tits and pinching your swollen areolas that peeked at him over the edge of your top. Gods, liefje, he groans into your mouth, unable to control himself from saying all the dark things he’d been thinking. how’d i get so lucky, to have the perfect little slut below me, under me like this, desperate to get a taste of my cock, huh? Practically beggin’ me to fuck you. How are you going to explain yourself to your brother, when he asks why you can’t walk tomorrow? Maybe I should just take a photo of you right now and send it to him to save you the trouble. So he knows next time he pisses me off it’ll be his fucking filthy slut of a baby sister who pays the price with her sweet - his fingers travel down, find their way to your clit again, toying with it in well practised circular motions - little - he dips his head downwards, licking a single stripe straight up your pussy to collect your juices before spitting it out all over where his fingers now entered you - needy, pussy?

you can’t stop crying now from how overstimulated you feel from the blinding pleasure, from max’s fingers and tongue knowing exactly how to make you reach your peak and to his toxic words that should shock and scare you but instead just make you more turned on. i’m not- you whine - mmmfph, im not slutty, im a good girl, i- ah! You can’t tell big bro about this, please maxie, I didn’t mean to do this, I - ahh!

your pathetic cockdrunk attempts at denying his claims get cut off as max smirks down at you while speeding up the pace of his fingers which slide in and out easily given how soaked you are. go on, liefje, go on and come on my fingers like a good little girl. show my fingers what it’ll feel like when my cock gets to have your sweet pussy cumming around me instead. Your eyes start to roll back as you approach your first ever orgasm, powerless to stop his other hand which releases your wrists and moves to rip your pathetic excuse of a crop top completely off, flinging it the side, with your cute miniskirt that was bunched up around your waist joining shortly after. max’s dark gaze greedily roams upon your fully exposed form, his cock hardening again at the sight of your tits that heave with every breath you take and your cute, soft little tummy that he now presses down on to while he slides in another thick finger, tipping you over the edge. ah! Ah! Max! Ohmygod, im cumming, ahh! You scream out incoherent noises in pure pleasure, trying to move away from the intense new sensation but max’s large palm, splayed around your waist, easily holds you fixed in place.

good girl, you did so good f’me, sweetheart, max cooes as you start to ride yourself out on the final waves of orgasm on his fingers, now finally adjusted to the stretch. He smirks darkly down at the fucked out, blissful expression on your face as you gaze up at him adoringly with loving eyes. He has you right where he wants you - obedient, eager to please him, ready to say yes to whatever nasty, depraved things he wants to do next to your tight little holes.

withdrawing his fingers from you, eliciting a whine, he brings them up to his mouth and licks away the taste of your cum. You’re immediately breathless by how fucking hot he looks, unable to look away from his eyes as he speaks. Mmm, so sweet schat, you taste so fuckin’ sweet - just how I imagined. Next time I’ll make you cum on my tongue.

omg!! Your pussy flutters around nothing and your heart starts beating rapidly at this revelation from max, he had imagined what eating you out would feel like? max uses your distracted thoughts to grab your hands in his, laying them outstretched by your sides as he intertwines your fingers together. He’s so romantic, you think dreamily, naively unaware that this was the perfect position for him to hold you down while hungrily eyeing your delectable kissable tits and wet pussy as he lowered himself on top of you. You welcome the warm, heavy feeling of his built chest against your soft one as he leans down to recapture your lips in another slow, open mouthed wet kiss, obscene loud slurping noises filling the summer air as you lovingly make out and moan against each others lips.

Too bad max had much darker thoughts on his mind - first of which involved getting his painfully rock hard cock wet inside your virgin pussy!!

Liefje, you trust me right? Trust that I won’t hurt you, I’ll always do what’s best for you? Even if it’s not what you want right now? He asks, pulling back and looking into your innocent large doe eyes. You nod quickly, yes maxie, of course maxie, I trust you, whatever you want, whatever you say is right - you quickly slur, still drunk from the shots you had downed earlier. he was so sweet to make sure you were comfortable making out while naked!! You eagerly chased his lips, making him smugly smirk again at how desperate he’d already made you to feel his tongue again, so eager that you had completely missed the sinister undertone max’s words had had.

those were all the words max needed to fully defile you tonight. Well - if he’s being honest, which he rarely was - he would have taken it all the way even if you hadn’t said so, even if you’d become so overwhelmed by your first orgasm that you had passed out right there on his fingers!! regardless, this worked in his favour to use against you tomorrow morning when you woke up realizing that you couldn’t blame max for anything, only yourself, cuz you had begged and begged him to do whatever he wanted after all. He was just giving you what he knew you secretly desired but were too innocent to ask for ❤️

Recapturing your lips with his, max slowly slides his cocktip into your creamy folds, this time not pausing to stop even once. He drowns out your cute squeals of suprise and discomfort with his large tongue that he shoves down your drooling throat, your fingers weakly trying to push against his but unable to move from where he has locked them into position.

Fuckin’ finally, he moans against your lips as he slides in over halfway, impressed with the way you were managing to keep fairly still against the intrusion for your first time. Max knew he was considering big, especially for your short frame, but here you were taking his dick like a champ. With one last - and this time innocent, kiss, max now tilts his head slightly so he could see your expression. you blink up at him, feeling so stuffed, stupidly voicing that you don’t remember his tip feeling so big earlier, enquiring why he had stopped kissin-

want to see your pretty lil’ face, shatjze, he explains. Want to see what you’ll look like when you see everything I’m going to do you, all the ways I’m going to ruin you for anyone else but me.

you’re looking so delightfully confused now, unsure what he is going to go, and max feels blood rushing to his hard cock with the twisted desire he’s filled with at the fact that you’re so innocent, so naive, so dumb for him that you haven’t realized what he’s planning on claiming from you tonight! You open your mouth to ask but before you can say anything he’s bottomed out completely, his huge cock stretching out your tight little virgin hole. Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open from the impossible stretch, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes - his huge fingers were nothing compared to the size of his cock. max’s head roars in pleasure from seeing the look on your face when he basically splits you in half on him, and he can’t resist spitting another large glob into your open mouth again, smirking as it successfully quietens down the confused, high pitched moans you’d started to make - Max, ah! maxie, you said just the tip, mmfh, you promised, ah! Oh! What about the condo-

Giving you a few minutes to adjust to his size - he wanted to make you addicting to the pleasure of his cock after all, not be scared of it - he idly traces the shape of your swollen, red lips with his broad thumb. shhhh, shhh, snoepje, just relax for me,yeah? Let it happen, this is what you wanted, yeah? To get fucked on my thick cock? That’s what dirty little sluts like you want, isn’t it? It feels sooo much better doing it raw, trust me, you’ll be begging for my cum inside you soon enough…but I’ll pull out, okay schat? I promise.

He smirks when he feels you go weak at his authoritative words, obeying his commands and relaxing as your mind turns gooey from pleasure and you begin moaning obscenely. He allows you to gently remove your hands from his grip and wrap them around his broad shoulders, handing all your power over to him as you go completely blank, ready to be his submissive pet. So- you’re so m-mean, maxie you whine out pathetically with your eyes screwed shut from the feeling of him, tears dripping down your chubby cheeks, making him laugh again. You can take it, schatje. You and your perfect little pussy were made for me. It feels so good, doesn’t it? Letting yourself get completely stuffed my cock?

Still circling your lips gently with his thumb as you nod at his dirty words, Max now slowly pulls his aching cock out of your tight core, making your dazed eyes open at him in confusion a second time. Was that- was that it? Is it done? Your innocent look just drove max wilder. He keeps going under just his tip is left inside you, and then with a sick, twisted smile he slams balls deep back home inside you while shoving his thumb inside your wet mouth. Your scream of pleasure and pain is drowned out by the obscene smack smack smack sounds of his cock fucking into you with a brutal pace, and you choke around his thumb that’s deep in your mouth, gagging on it with more of your shared saliva spilling around your mouth, unable to protest max’s complete betrayal of his earlier promise. Fuck yeah, that’s right babygirl, I’m going to fucking ruin your filthy little pussy, gonna mold it to the shape of my cock so you can only every come around my cock, no one else’s.

max’s mean mean words were just so hot!! He had been holding back, sweet talking you earlier just to trick you into letting him fuck his fat cock into you and you had totally let him. It felt soooo good, you couldn’t even be mad at him for it, your nails digging into his back muscles from the intensity of pleasure as he shifted his hands to your waist, fuckin you dumb up and down on his massive cock, the wet obscene sounds of your shared juices as he slammed into you, shlick shlick shlick, big balls against your juicy ass only making it hotter for you both. thank god he’s gonna pull out, you thought!! If there was so much precum already you couldn’t imagine how much there would be if he came inside, you would have been getting pregnant for sure!

the thought sends you into another dizzying wave of pleasure, and you start babbling all the filthy filthy thoughts that had been buried inside you, just for maxie, as he thrusts into you with that wicked smirk on his face. Mmfhhh, fuck yes maxie, daddy, please please please, it feels soooo good! Ahh! max’s rhythm stutters for a second, caught off guard at the word that you had accidentally slipped out - none of his past gf’s had been quite as dirty mouthed as you - before deciding that it was fucking hot and leaning down to claim your bruised lips in a searing kiss and squeezing a large hand around your throat. Fuck yes, say that again, you dirty fucking slut, say my name-

you has no qualms following Max’s orders, begging daddy please please make me come, mmmdh’make me cum ar-aroun’ your cock, ahh!

max groaned at the vision of you underneath him, looking positively debauched. Your eyeliner was smudged, lipgloss long worn out and lips swollen and bitten, your neck bruised from his hickies and and your perfect tits bouncing with every hard thrust. lifting your legs up around his waist, he fucked into you at a deeper angle, making you scream again in pleasure from his cock and his voice, that got deeper and stronger in his Dutch accent as he got more turned on. Yeah, you like this, huh? You like when daddy fucks you like that, don’t you? Neuken, een vuile slet. Fuck! So good for me, begging for my cock, cause I’m the only one who can do it for you, huh? You like calling me a dirty driver and then screaming my name as I take your virginity, huh? Your eyes widen as his words pierce through your lust addled brain. Maxie, ah, how did you know-ahh!

You’re interrupted by a rough smack on your ass, so strong it renders you speechless - after all, your maxie is the fastest driver on the grid, his grip strength is unparrallelled! answer me, slut he growls, answer me, tell me, does it feel good being my perfect little fuckdoll? When I treat you like the worthless cocksleeve you are? Tell me how much you want my cock in you, beg me for it

your second orgasm starts to rapidly approach you from the positively filthy dirty talk - he knows just how to make your inner whore come out for him. ohmygod yes maxie, yes, it f-feels so so good, please, I need your cock, I need it so bad, I can’t live without it, please maxie- your eyes start to roll back again, tongue drooling and dripping spit down your chin.

Max grins wickedly down at you. Fuck yes, this is exactly what he wanted, so cockdrunk for him there isn’t a single sane thought left within you - and especially not to remember his promise of pulling out. Sensing his own impending finish, he manoeuvres you again, this time by pulling out and flipping you around onto your side, settling down behind you with your legs spread wide, tossed open across his. He bullies his cock into you again, and you throw your head back against his shoulder, moaning and begging again for more more more, yes maxie, only you can do this to me, I saved my virginity just for you, ah! Please please please maxie I need to cum, I need it now!!

Neuken. Max slips into Dutch as you both approach your orgasm, the new position giving him easy access to fondle your tits and circle your clit, his sweaty forehead and matted hair falling onto your neck to place wet kisses along your collarbone. Fuck, this pussy will be the death of me, if only I knew your pussy would be so good t’me, you would’ve been mine a long long time ago.

His fingers drift from your clit and go lower, past his dick sliding in and out of your pussy and circle your hole - your other tight little hole, and you moan wantonly, thrusting back against him - which is an effort considering how he’s controlling the pace, bouncing you like a ragdoll on his cock. He chuckles darkly, next time I’ll take your virginity here too, huh? My lil slut saved all her sweet holes for daddy, right? Fuck! Come all over my fat cock for me, come for me now liefje, let me feel your sweet pussy tightening around me again, fuck yes-

this final promise send you over the edge and you cum together with one final thrust from max, reaching up to pull him forward by his hair and slot your lips together in a sweet kiss as he cums and cums and cums in you. he doesn’t move for a while as you both come down from your high, panting heavily, wanting to plugging your cute lil pussy up, before eventually pulling out when sleep starts to creep in. the wet sound of his copious amount of cum spilling out around your pussy makes you moan tiredly again and max can’t help himself from lightly fingering your pussy again, pushing the cum inside.

You whine, too overstimulated and he chuckles, conceding that you’d had enough for one night. Another time, he promises himself. And next time he’d take a photo to look back at later - a photo with you passed out from exhaustion, with his cum dripping down from your fucked out pussy to your twitching back hole - to jerk off too when he’s away on a race or to send to your brother or Charles if they need a reminder just who you belong too. Who’s he kidding - he doesn’t need a photo, he’ll just keep you by his side at all times, with a big diamond on your finger so it’s clear you’re his.

Pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, he looks down at you as you tiredly smile at him, starting to doze off. Love you maxie, you whisper easily before passing out, hearing his gentle love you too, mein schat. He wraps you comfortably in his arms after wiping you off with a clean towel.

He should’ve done this a long long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, you were his now, always, and now that he’d marked you he was never, ever letting you go ❤️

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A/N: yeah so this is just pure smut, idk I have no explanation or defence for this being my first literal post, my apologies to everyone who might need to be doused in holy water after reading this. Hope you enjoyed!

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mattluvr · 3 months ago

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⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut chris sturniolo oneshot !

( dom!college!chris, orgasm denial, teasing, doggystyle, praise, pet names, slight degradation if you squint )

chris is a one night stand type of guy.

he makes it clear to every girl he sleeps with that they get one chance to make him feel good, one night to supply him with endless pleasure, but is always left feeling. . . meh. nobody has taken his dick as well as you.

you’re the exception to his rule about the nights being singular; he just can’t seem to get enough of you.

consider tonight as an example. minutes ago, you’d been caught up in the throng of a crowd at a frat party, red solo cup in your clutches. now, you’re on your knees for none other than chris, the two of you in the confinements of a spare bedroom, the music from the party downstairs pulsing through your bodies.

chris’ dick is twitching in front of your face, his jeans and boxers in a puddle by his ankles as he looks down at you, teasing the waters by slowly dragging your manicured nails across his throbbing member.

“sweetheart…” chris hisses, his hand travelling to the back of your head, forcing you forward. you resist, glaring up at him, your nails raking with more harshness. he grits his teeth, secretly revelling in the pleasure it gives him.

this is what he likes about you; you’re not afraid to challenge him, take things a step too far in the best way possible, push boundaries. with previous girls, chris always felt he was being too rough, too mean. with you, he could easily put you in your place, but receive enough bite back to make things interesting.

“play nice.” you murmur, your tongue darting out, across his enraged tip, the boy above you letting out a guttural moan from the back of his throat.

“jesus, ma. you don’t know what you do to me.”

and you really don’t; chris is completely entranced by everything about you, from your outfits showing a sliver too much skin for his liking, cleavage peaking out over the neckline of your shirt, to your long eyelashes, batting up at him innocently. you turned him on more than you’d ever know.

you smile, kitten licking the head of his cock again, revelling in the response you’re receiving. you don’t know it, but you’re the only person who can make him whine aloud, who can make the air around you thick with moans.

it’s then that chris decides he can’t take the teasing any longer, needing to be in your cunt, which he can only imagine is dripping for him. it often is. with images of your underwear swimming round his head, he grabs you harshly under your arms, hoisting you onto your feet.

“i need to be inside you.” he growls, adjusting the backwards cap perched on his head. “right fucking now.”

“you don’t want to taste me first?” you challenge, and chris smirks. exactly why he likes you; never too afraid to push the boundaries.

he doesn’t verbally reply, simply bending down and removing your jeans with one swift movement. now, you’re left in your thong, mesh and decorated with an orange bow, and your shirt, the latter soon following the jeans. this reveals the matching bra, the orange detailing making chris’ head roll back. you look unbelievably sexy in his favourite colour.

“orange lingerie just for me, huh?” he teases, rough fingers running up the curves of your hips, pulling at your thong. you hiss, the crease of the material hitting your bundle of nerves deliciously, and you rub your thighs together to relieve the tension building up.

“you like it?”

“do i like it?” chris lets out a breathless laugh, hooking his fingers under the thong and rolling it down, revealing your glistening pussy. he needs you so bad it’s borderline embarrassing. “i fucking love it. you look so hot in my colour, baby. keep the bra on.”

your eyes sparkle, and you oblige, your own hands travelling up to rest on chris’ chest, feeling how his heart beats restlessly beneath his flushed skin. you almost miss chris’ fingers circling your clit, and when one of the pads of his index fingers presses down on the holy spot, you moan involuntarily, head flying down to rest in the crook of his shoulder.

“shit, chris. just like that.” you groan, the two of you still stood at the end of the bed as chris gets you off, his movements harsh yet so fucking good. “god, you make feel amazing. yeah, right there. fuuuuuck.”

a few more seconds of chris rubbing your swollen bud, and he decides that you’re wet enough to take him now. sure, he’s denying you a leg shaking orgasm, but his dick is crying out to be confined in your walls. he’s forever grateful that you’re on the pill; sex without a condom always felt better for him.

he pulls his finger away, and you whip your head up, a scowl on your face. “you son of a bitch. i was so close, chris.”

“i don’t give a fuck.” chris replies, his tone equally as condescending as yours. “i need to be inside you, that alright?”

he doesn’t wait for an answer, shoving you roughly onto the bed and picking you up by your hips, flipping you over. chris’ favourite position is and always has been doggystyle; there’s no sight he drools over more than your ass bouncing off his hips.

so he wastes no further time, guiding his tip to your sensitive entrance, both you and him moaning as he pushes himself into you. he feels as good as ever, and as he starts to move in and out at a steady pace, you feel that all too familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach.

“fuck, sweetheart. you look so pretty, your ass bouncing off my hips.” chris says in a hushed voice, his hands resting on your waist as he pulls you into him slowly. you mewl, throwing your hair over your shoulder as you reposition your weight onto your elbows.

this change in your angle gives chris more access to your g spot, buried deep within you, and he starts to thrust with more power, your vision clouding with stars. to chris, you’re the only girl who can take his dick, and to you, chris is the only boy who has ever handed you earth shattering pleasure. it’s a win win situation for both parties.

“oh fuck, i think i’m there already. baby, go faster.” you command, and chris hears you loud and clear, the bed frame squeaking as he pushes in and out at an ungodly pace.

you cry out, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, the edge looming ever closer. chris is also close, his thighs trembling behind you, the view of your ass vibrating off him only driving his orgasm forward.

“shit, me too ma. you’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

“o-oh! yes, right there.” you lift your ass higher and receive a new wave of pleasure, your orgasm coming down with full force. “shiiiiit, i’m cumming. oh, fuck me.”

you whole body trembles as you hit your peak, pussy convulsing round chris’ dick, which in turn makes him orgasm. he groans, hips stuttering as he shoots his load into you, longer and harder than ever before.

he collapses against your back, breathing heavily as he pulls out of you, your breathing just as heavy as you turn underneath him, a hand coming up to brush the sweat from his forehead away.

“pretty good for a multiple night stand.” he jokes, fingers now soft as they run over your stomach.

you laugh. “glad to be at your service, sturniolo.”

and sure enough, the next week you’re in his bed, the music from the frat party below echoing through your bones. chris wouldn’t change the situation between the two of you for the fucking world.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #pure smut oneshots

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likeumeanit9497 · 6 months ago

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watch | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after hearing you confess all of your insecurities to him, matt makes it his mission to have you see yourself the way that he sees you.

warnings: established relationship smut; fluff; mentions of body insecurities; hint of disordered eating; fingering (f receiving); dirty talk; choking; 18+

notes: i dreamt up this smut last night and immediately got to writing because it felt a little too real. i also knew it was gonna be a shorter one shot (compared to all of my others) so decided to try out second person narration rather than first person. i still can't decide which is better, so pls let me know which u all prefer to read. i hope ya'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed dreaming ab it ;)))

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

With Mac Miller playing softly from Matt’s tv, you sighed to yourself as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. You took a moment to inspect your appearance in the full length mirror that you had been getting ready in front of, and felt like you didn’t recognize the girl in the reflection. For some reason, you were having a bad everything day. You had started getting ready by doing your hair, and it just wouldn’t fall right once you had finished styling it. Moving on to makeup, you had struggled with making your eyeliner match and all of your base makeup looked splotchy; it was like nothing was sitting the way it should on your skin.

Filled with frustration, you were tempted to tell Matt to cancel the dinner reservation, scrub everything off your face, and tuck yourself in his bed for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that, because he had been so excited about planning your date night all by himself.

You and Matt had been dating for a few months, and had built a relationship filled with the perfect combination of comfort and excitement. Even though you both lived apart, there was rarely a day when you and him were not doing something together — whether that be just laying in his bed watching movies all day, or going on a random adventure in the middle of nowhere. You could never grow tired of being around him, but for some reason your insecurities in your appearance were so severe today that you almost felt like you wanted to hide yourself from him.

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your creasing concealer under your eyes, Matt walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. “You look pretty,” He started, heading towards his closet to pick out an outfit. “You about ready?” You watched him through the mirror as he put on a pair of boxers, feeling a lump form in your throat at how undeniably beautiful he looked. You were hit with the realization that his looks so clearly outshined your own, and hated the idea of other people recognizing that whenever you two went out together.

Trying to get the negative thoughts out of your mind so that he wouldn’t have reason to worry, you cleared your throat. “Uh, yeah I am. I just have to get dressed.” After buttoning his jeans, he looked at you through the mirror and smiled warmly. “Everything okay baby?” He must have noticed the tension in your brow, or the slight downturn of your lips, but you nodded reassuringly. “Yeah of course, I’m just not really feeling my makeup.” You added a chuckle to the end of your sentence, hoping to make him believe that it was just a light hearted confession. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I think it looks perfect.” He said softly into your hair, and you forced a smile onto your lips.

You walked over to the clothing rack that Matt had put in his room for you so that you could leave a variety of your clothes at his place for when you stayed over. Scanning your options, you skipped over all of your more bold pieces — knowing your head space was far too vulnerable tonight to mess around with any of them — and decided on your favourite black Skims dress. It had never failed you in the past, and you tried to reassure yourself with this fact as you removed your oversized t-shirt and replaced it with the soft dress.

Your positive attitude was gone just as quickly as it arrived once you began to examine yourself in the mirror. From the front your body looked okay, but as soon as you turned to the side you grimaced at the sight of your bloated stomach from the massive deli sandwich Matt had bought you for lunch earlier. The thin, tight material of the dress did nothing but accentuate the swell in your lower stomach, and you wanted to scream out in frustration. Maybe if your hair and makeup had worked in your favour the bloating wouldn’t have bothered you so much, but because everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong, it was enough to cause tears to well in your eyes.

As you stood in front of the mirror fighting the tears from spilling over, Matt noticed the sheen in your eyes and your wobbly chin and raced over to you. “Hey hey hey! What’s wrong baby?” He asked, his voice laced with a hint of panic. You shook your head rapidly. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m just being stupid.” Your voice was thick with emotion, and it made you even more angry with yourself as you knew this whole thing was stupid. “It’s clearly not nothing if you’re crying, Y/n.” He turned you around so that you were face to face with him; concern evident in his furrowed brow and racing eyes. “Tell me what’s going on sweetheart.” His voice was soft, and he rubbed his hands along your bare arms reassuringly.

You sighed and brought a shaky hand to your eye; trying to dab away any fallen tears in a weak attempt to not ruin your shitty makeup. “It’s stupid Matt.” You wined, not wanting to tell him your insecurities out of fear that speaking of them might make him suddenly see them just as clearly as you did. “Y/n, please.” He begged, desperate to try and help you. Groaning, you finally obliged; your voice barely above a whisper as you confessed. “I just hate everything about the way I look today, that’s all.” Matt stared at you with a blank expression as he took in your words, and you waited in silence — nervous to hear his response.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n.” He sounded almost angry in his response, and it caused you to bite your lip nervously as you shrugged. “Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to when I got ready today, plus you’ve been feeding me too much lately and it’s been making me bloated.” You explained further, and watched as his eyes travelled from your face down to your body. “Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said, and you rolled your eyes. “You have to say that, it’s one of the unwritten rules of being someone’s boyfriend.” A dry laugh escaped your lips, and Matt moved his hand to the back of your head.

“You think I’m lying?” He asked, his tone of voice mildly threatening and absolutely serious. So serious in fact, that the weak smile left your lips and you could do nothing but stare blankly at his face; unsure of how you should answer. He tilted his head quizzically, clearly still waiting for a response. Tentatively, you nodded your head yes as a singular tear fell down your cheek. Matt’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He breathed before pressing his lips softly against yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he began deepening the kiss — turning it into one filled with passion without losing its gentle nature. Delicately, his tongue skated across your lips; requesting access to your mouth without demanding it. You released a soft whimper from his tender movements as his hands travelled down to your ass; massaging it gently through the thin material of your dress.

“Turn around.” He ordered against your mouth, and you immediately obliged. Now facing the mirror, he stood behind you with his hands planted firmly on your shoulders. Into your ear, he spoke. “You are the most beautiful person that I have ever laid my eyes on, and I need you to know that.” His words — overflowing with emotion — caused goosebumps to cover your skin. Using both of his hands, he grabbed each thin strap of your dress and slowly peeled them off your shoulders. Not stopping there, he used his grip on the straps to pull the dress completely off your body — creating a puddle of dark material at your feet.

“Look at you, Y/n.” His hands moved across your upper body; exploring every square inch of your skin as he held you in front of the mirror. You shuddered from his touch; his hands lighting your body on fire as they glided across it. He grabbed your breasts in both hands, massaging them slowly as he planted a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “You might see flaws when you look at yourself in the mirror, but I don’t. And I never have.” His hands moved down to your hips, squeezing them slightly. “I think I just have to show you what I see, and then maybe you’ll change your mind.”

Dropping one more kiss to your flushed skin, he walked you forward a few steps towards the mirror, before using his hands to guide you to the floor. Knees tucked into your chest, he sat behind you and pulled all of your hair over to one side before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “Open your legs baby.” You gulped before obliging, sliding your legs apart but keeping your knees bent. Your bare chest rose and fell rapidly, beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. You titled your head to the side out of embarrassment of having your legs spread in front of the mirror — with only your small pink thong covering you. Noticing this, Matt brought a hand to your jaw, grabbing it firmly and straightening your head back in the direction of the mirror. “You are breathtaking, Y/n. I don’t want you to look away.” As he spoke, he moved his hand from your jaw down to your breast, holding it firmly as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nipple. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” He whispered before taking his free hand and sliding your panties to the side.

Your eyes planted firmly on your glistening core as he used two fingers to spread it open. You watched as your arousal began leaking from your slit, and your jaw dropped in ecstasy as he collected the fluid on his fingers. His eyes connected to yours in the mirror as he brought his wet fingers up to your lips. Confused, you furrowed your brow. “Even your insides are beautiful. Taste yourself.” He urged, and his words stirred up something within you. Slowly, you opened your mouth and immediately felt his fingers press against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his middle and ring fingers; sucking your own sweet juices off of them and moaning at the heat of the scenario as his eyes burned into yours through the reflection in the mirror.

“Good girl.” He praised once you released his fingers, before moving them back down to your throbbing core. As soon as his fingers connected with your clit, you released a breathy moan and screwed your eyes shut in relief. “Open your eyes sweetheart, and look at how fucking beautiful you look.” He demanded sweetly into your ear, making it impossible for you to even consider disobeying him. Through your droopy eyelids you watched, mouth agape, as his ringed fingers massaged your bundle of nerves; their circular motions hypnotizing you. You also took a moment to admire your body as it writhed in anticipatory pleasure — your sweat-coated breasts heaving as you gasped for breath. Matt rested his chin on your shoulder — his left hand still caressing your tits — as he watched in awe at your various expressions of pleasure.

“Look at your pretty pink pussy, baby. And look how unbelievably beautiful you look when you bite your lip. God, I could cum in my pants just from watching you feel good.” His words were equal parts sweet and filthy in your ears, and they added to the pleasure you felt building up within you. Suddenly, his left hand moved from your tits down your stomach and towards your core. You watched in awe as he swirled two fingers around your opening teasingly, and practically screamed out once he slammed them into you. Wasting no time, his curled fingers pumped in and out of you rapidly, hitting your spongey g-spot each time.

“F-fuck Matty, feels so good.” You managed to get out through breathless moans. “Mmm.” He purred, “Looks so good too, doesn’t it? Your pretty juices like honey dripping from my fingers. Tell me how pretty it looks.” You whined before obliging. “I-it’s so pretty.” You watched his reflection as he shook his head and smirked. “Good baby, but it’s not just your juices. It’s you that’s so pretty. Say it.” As he waited for your response, he nipped delicately at your neck. “I-I’m s-so pretty.” Your voice was shaky as your mind was overtaken by your impending orgasm that was very quickly approaching. You felt Matt’s lips turn up in a smile against your neck. “That’s right. And just wait till you cum princess, there’s nothing more beautiful than that.” His words caused your walls to flex around his pumping fingers and your stomach tensed from the familiar feeling.

“G-gonna cum baby.” You cried out, tucking your chin into your shoulder and arching your back off of his chest as your orgasm began to roll through your body. Suddenly, Matt pulled his fingers out of your core and grabbed onto your throat, gently straightening your head up once again. “Watch yourself cum, Y/n.” He rasped into your ear and you watched through blurred vision as your fucked out face contorted into one filled with pleasure as your orgasm tore through your body. Still rubbing your clit at full tilt, Matt filled the space between you both with muttered praises; his eyes firmly planted to your face as he almost fell apart himself from the view in front of him.

Once you came down from your high, Matt wrapped both of his arms tightly around you; leaving small kisses on your skin as he waited for you to catch your breath. “I don’t ever want you to have negative thoughts about yourself like that ever again.” He stated as he rubbed your soft skin gently. Still waiting for the fog around your fucked out brain to clear, you could do nothing more than hum in acknowledgment. “I mean it, Y/n. I get that having insecurities is normal, but, when I look at you, I swear to god I can’t see a single flaw.” Your eyes fluttered open and connected with his in the mirror. “You are perfect, Y/n. And I’m not just saying that.” Giving him a small smile, your heart did leaps in your chest at his heartfelt testament. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and when you took a moment to look at yourself again in the mirror, you realized that maybe he did have a point.

Even through your makeup, your cheeks were filled with a lively glow that wasn’t there before. Your eyes seemed to glisten in the light, and your lips were swollen and pink. You would have expected your hair to be messed up, but Matt’s hands running through it had actually made it fall exactly they way you had hoped it would when you were styling it. You still struggled with your bloating, but flashbacks of your body squirming sensually under Matt’s touch — and the residual satisfaction of your orgasm a reminder of just how good your body could feel — allowed you to find a new appreciation for it. Feeling a lump form in your throat just as it had when you tried on your black dress — this time for an entirely different reason — you gazed adoringly at Matt. “Thank you baby.” You whispered before turning around and planting a deep kiss to his lips.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He responded, both of his hands on either side of your face so he could stare at it up close. “You think you’re up for dinner still? Because let me tell you, you’re on a whole other level of sexy when you’re shovelling steak into your mouth.” You erupted into giggles at this, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m serious.” He continued, his voice filled with laughter. “You think I have blue balls now, just wait until after dinner. They might explode.” You shoved his shoulders playfully at this, and hoisted yourself up to your feet to find your discarded dress. “You add a lobster to my dinner plate, and I might just be able to help you out with that on our way back.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets

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chelseeebe · 5 days ago

Text

hot n’ heavy

18+. mdni. smut. breeding kink if you squint! exhusband!eddie

part two to yours, forever! i truly believe they would have three sons and one little girl that comes after r’s second divorce🤭 the p3 to this is my favourite however, i have some pornstar!eddie is reallyyyy want to get out before it’s posted hehe. pls ignore any mistakes i am so tired

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

eddie hadn’t ever lied about you still being the only woman in his life, he’d dated around after the divorce but had never, ever found anyone that came close to you.

he does suppose that you were together for fourteen years. he feels like at that point, you were stuck together for life.

and yet, he can’t fucking wait.

sat on one of wayne’s loungers just waiting for you to walk through that gate and spot her.

he’d sorta been seeing ashley for the past couple months or so, mostly just hooking up during those dry spells where you were content with your marriage.

wayne’s annual barbecue was coming up and so he’d had the bright idea to ask her along, truthfully just to get you talking to him again.

nice girl, pretty too but he knew you’d be furious.

the kids bounce through the yard first, barely saying hi to eddie first before clambering on top of wayne as they usually did.

you shuffle through next, the far-too-short dress sitting just around your thighs, a blatant attempt at garnering his attention. though you were no match for him, eddie had the petty game nailed down since 1998. from the moment you’d handed him those divorce papers, he’d taken it upon himself to piss you off as much as humanly possible.

you haven’t realised yet, made obvious by the wide smile on your face. giving half-assed hugs to the various members of his family that sprawled around the garden, waiting for him last.

but you don’t hug him, standing in front of the lounge chair with a frown, looking his outfit up and down. “i didn’t realise you were coming,” you quip.

fucking lie.

your dress wouldn’t have been half as revealing if you’d actually thought he wasn’t going to be here.

eddie scoffs, sitting up in his chair, “why wouldn’t i be?” cocking his head to the side, waiting for the perfect moment to introduce ashley.

“oh i don’t know, thought you’d be too busy pretending you can play guitar,” shrugging sweetly, but not backing off.

his eyes narrow, biting his tongue to unleash the true beast, “have you met ashley?” gesturing towards the young blonde with a side smirk from hell, “she’s been so excited to meet the kids!”

your brows furrow, lip curling in disgust. he loves even more that you don’t try to hide it, practically retching in front of her face.

sharp eyes flicker over to her, “nice to meet you.. ashley,” but your hand doesn’t extend for her to shake, instead you flounce off without waiting for her reply.

“dave not here?” eddie jeers, holding the cool bottle of beer just before his snarling lips.

“he’s at work,” you snap back, “you know what that is?” snarky in all your glory, sitting on the furthest, most opposite chair you could find.

that’s alright, he can almost see right up your dress from here, purposely no doubt.

wayne must have found that hilarious, bursting into a maniacal laughter, never on the side of his own flesh and blood.

pfft.

whatever.

it wouldn’t be long before your dress was bunched up against your hips and-

“-eddie?” ashley barks from beside, snapping him out of maladaptive wet daydream, “can you show me the bathroom?” batting her eyelashes.

holy fuck. the regret of ever inviting her had began to seep in, because in actuality, it had done absolutely nothing worthwhile in making you jealous.

he nods, concealing the annoyance on his face by clearing his throat, guiding the poor girl past his relatives judging eyes and into the house.

she grabs ahold of his hand, trying to pull him into the bathroom alongside of her. blinking rapidly when he stays put.

“my kids are here,” he whispers, yanking his hand back, “i really can’t,” he could, he had a hundred times. just not with her.

she pouts, dropping her shoulders in a huff, quickly pulling the door closed as eddie rushes off outside again. he couldn’t have you thinking he was screwing around with her now.

your eyes follow him from the door to his seat, wayne leaning over to whisper not-so-quietly about him.

he can read something along the lines of midlife crisis, wayne’s bellowing laugh after pretty much solidifies that theory. eddie’d be much more angry if he didn’t find it so endearing, wayne loved you more than eddie did, he was certain of that.

wayne pats your shoulder before sending a sharp glance at eddie, a warning sign he’d seen, and ignored, many a times.

an hour of meaningless banter and fake affection later, eddie finds his opportunity.

you had disappeared off under the guise of helping in the kitchen, but he knows it’s an invite of sorts. you weren’t as nonchalant as you thought you were, sliding your gaze over his and then immediately at the open door.

a blind man could’ve picked up on that for christ sake.

he saunters off through the door, no doubt you were in there messing about with the salads or doing the dishes like you normally did. the garden is too loud for anyone to realise anyway, he figures he’s got a good fifteen minutes before anyone questions where you’ve both gone.

you glance up at him walking through the door but choose not to speak, plating up the anaemic looking potato salad his aunt had made.

“you not speaking to me today?” standing on the opposite side of the island, picking at the bowl of chips.

“i have nothing to say to you,” turning up your nose to continue dumping the grey slop into a bowl.

“that’s a lie,” eddie chuckles, leaning over the marbled counter, “i know you have loads of things you want to say to me today.”

you look up briefly, staring daggers into his soul, “why don’t you go back outside with your little girlfriend and leave me alone?”

eddie sighs rather sarcastically, “one, not my girlfriend and two, i’d rather be in here with you,” walking his fingers over the counter towards you.

you scoff, but he knows you’re not serious because if you were, you’d have thrown the spoon at his head and laughed as it got tangled in his curls.

“c’mon,” he beckons, nodding towards the stairs.

when wayne had announced that he’d be selling the trailer in favour of a house, eddie think he physically jumped for joy.

living with wayne and a pregnant you in that tiny metal box had began to drive him utterly insane, especially once wayne had retired and he had an approximate five minute window to have sex every day.

you glance out of the window, making sure that no one would follow you up the stairs, before sighing and begrudgingly trailing behind him.

“don’t worry, they won’t even notice,” slipping into the box room and shutting the door as discreetly as possible.

to be honest, you’d lived in this room just as long as he had, it was yours as much as it was his. some of your posters still stay stuck to the walls, pictures of the two of you that you’d framed still linger.

eddie waits with baited breath for you to start, prepared for the inevitable rant that was just bubbling to fall out of your lips.

you stand poised at the other side for he room, hands on hips, ready to scold, “you’re seriously pathetic if you think bringing some kid would make me jealous,” clicking your tongue against your teeth, eyes flicking up and down his casual stature.

there it is.

the tirade of insults he’s been waiting for all night.

“i fucking knew that’d work,” guffawing loudly, “you’re so angry and i love it,” swigging his beer with far too much confidence.

“i’m not angry, i’m disgusted. there’s a difference,” crossing your arms firmly over your chest.

“oh please,” rolling his eyes, “you’re married for fuck sake,” placing the bottle on his old dresser, the fun was just about to begin.

“yeah. i am,” you nod, the deep furrow of your brow only exciting him further, “to someone my own age, not some fucking teenager.”

“she’s twenty three, actually,” in such a matter-of-fact tone that it makes you seethe, launching forward to twist his collar between your fingers.

“you disgust me,” eyes like slits and a snarl that some rottweilers would be jealous of.

“isn’t it a bit late for you to start lying like this?” a heavy hand meets your back, pressing your body into his as your heartbeats collide.

“fuck you,” moving forward to connect your lips the same time he does, an angry battle that consists of guttural growls and an animalistic need to dominate the kiss.

“just ask me next time sweets,” grabby with his hands as they get comfy on your hips, performing a waltz around the tiny bedroom floor to lie your body sideward on the edge of the bed, legs wrapping tight around his back.

“everyone’s here,” you breathe, glancing warily towards the window, “what if they hear?”

“pssht, not like we’ve never done this before,”

this bedroom had once witnessed the most explicit things all the while wayne was downstairs and hopefully oblivious.

eddie’s hand glides over your thigh and under your dress, lifting higher until it’s bunched up at your hips, just as he’d pictured.

“wear these for me?” he remarks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your deliberately worn lacy panties.

“mhm,” lifting your hips as they come down, hanging off of your ankle.

he breaks apart for what feels like too long, rushing to get his belt unbuckled and his jeans down, before hoisting your calves onto his shoulder, your knees damn near touching your ears as he comes down on top.

“jesus christ eds, i’m not twenty five anymore,” gripping onto his forearm for leverage.

eddie scoffs, running the leaking head of his cock from your clit to your hole, delighted with the way you shiver and whine.

he sighs as his cock slides in, taking one last glance at the window, he wouldn’t last long anyway, not in this position.

“fuucking hell,” you breathe, tightening your grip on his quivering arms, letting your eyes fall shut.

he’s messy, sloppy in the way his hips move, pressed flat against your glistening cunt. if this didn’t get you pregnant, he gives up.

“i like it when you’re jealous,” he pants, brushing the stray strands of hair from your sticky forehead to get a good glimpse of your fluttering eyes.

your nails dig further into his skin, it’d probably hurt if he weren’t balls deep inside of you, “fuck off,” your insults punctuated by the slick sounds of your body’s meeting.

he moves slow, grunting each time his tip nudges against your sweet spot. fuck. the downright pornographic noises of your pussy wrapped him makes him animalistic with need.

schlickschlickschlick in time with the old mattress and his balls slapping against your ass.

your hands move up above your head, helplessly grabbing at the blanket, fingers untwining in the fabric.

“ohmygod yes,” head thrown back against the mattress, seemingly no longer bothered about the family gathering just outside.

despite being an incoherent babbling mess, your eyes meet his, “don’t.. ever bring her here again,” your whines becoming too loud to hear your words clearly.

eddie slaps his palm over your drooling mouth, but he nods, more than happy to comply if it meant he could fuck you like this every time.

“only did it.. to make you jealous,” losing his momentum, the churning in his stomach becoming too much to carry on.

you’re too fucked out to reply, whimpering into his palm, the bedsheets twisted between your fingertips. if no one had heard you, it would be nothing short of a miracle, your gasps only partly muffled by his hand.

you clench around his cock, calves trembling upon his skin while your hips move on their own, cumming around his cock, his sweaty palm working overtime to silence your loud mouth.

eddie doesn’t last much longer, biting down onto his lower lip so he doesn’t alert the whole house to your precarious position.

he’s shaking, collapsing on top of you as his seed paints your walls, saying a silent prayer that this time is the time.

“oh.. fuck,” he heaves, sloppily pumping his hips into your leaking cunt before pulling out completely, well aware that you had ran over the fifteen minute allotted time slot he had given you.

wayne would have noticed a whole ten minutes ago, surely waiting to make his snarky comments.

he lets go of your mouth, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before getting up and as a gentleman does, slides your panties back up and your skirt down.

it filled eddie with far too much satisfaction to know you’d have to walk downstairs with a skewed walk and a pussy full of his cum, everybody else none the wiser.

“don’t walk down together,” you bite, running frantic fingers through your unkempt hair, attempting to clean the smudged outline of your lipstick.

“nobody’s gonna care,” re-buttoning his jeans as he takes a smug sip of warm beer.

you spin on your heel, shooting daggers at his grinning eyes, “your girlfriend might,” and with that you’re gone, slipping out of the door in a cloud of tangled hair and creased fabric.

god, he loves you.

far more than should be allowed for two people who are divorced.

it was wise for you to go down first, you were a much better liar than eddie ever was.

he makes a slow walk downstairs, his belt clinking rather conspicuously as he pulls it tight.

wayne stands in the shadows at the bottom, waiting until he’s close to make him piss his pants before speaking, “i don’t even wanna know,” shaking his head at his petulant nephew, “don’t ever leave me with that girl again,” a warning, but his eyes are soft, almost cracking as the pieces click into place in his brain.

“i wasn’t.. i didn’t do anything,” but his twitching lips give him away, “and i’m gonna take her home, don’t worry,” trying to shuffle past wayne unscathed.

his uncle reaches out, smearing his thumb across eddie’s chin, “you left your fuckin’ lipstick on, dumbass,” only half-disappointed in his nephew, because eddie, and everybody out in that garden knows wayne’d be the first person to celebrate the two of you getting back together.

he, rather unsuccessfully, suppresses his grin, walking into the kitchen like he was the luckiest man alive.

you stand at the counter, back to him, poking holes into juice boxes, your hair a sudden nest and your dress sitting higher than it had before. anyone would think you’d been doing something you shouldn’t.

he slides up right behind you, “i’m gonna go take her home.. are you staying?” hand threatening to creep under your dress again.

“yeah, we’ll be here,” you confirm without ever looking up.

“i’ll come back then,” he didn’t want to be here without you, you’d done these things as a pair for long that it felt disrespectful to ever entertain the idea of doing it alone.

as he turns, he meets wayne’s eye who had either been stood watching the entire time or had only seen his hand grab your ass, either way it wasn’t great.

his uncle’s eyes say enough, silent in both their judgement and approval.

eddie shrugs, walking back into the garden with a terribly hidden smirk and a sickening excitement to get back and see you again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #ex husband!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #if you squint #eddie munson x reader

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cow-smells · 1 year ago

Text

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji imagine #one piece sanji x reader #one piece live action sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

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hyunverse · 8 months ago

Text

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday.

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight.

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence.

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show.

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.”

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes.

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl.

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl.

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it.

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you.

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him.

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose.

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend.

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought.

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!”

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour.

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.”

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time.

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?”

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly.

“You’re my best friend in the world!”

Hyunjin felt like he could die.

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red.

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet.

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!”

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said.

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?”

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.”

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red.

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap.

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb.

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories.

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.”

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you?

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly.

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.

Don’t be a coward.

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage.

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you.

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could.

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could.

Okay, step number one failed.

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin.

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.”

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him.

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff.

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell.

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.”

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked.

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered.

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?”

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin.

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue.

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head.

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after.

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger.

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next.

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper.

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over.

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.”

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you.

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are.

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now?

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.”

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug.

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself.

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.”

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more.

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall.

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.”

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.”

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts.

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead.

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck.

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need.

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now?

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away.

five.

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field.

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would.

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat.

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?”

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.”

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side.

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back.

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it.

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!”

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink.

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense.

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in.

You were as pretty as the flowers.

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you.

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness.

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms.

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.”

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal.

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.”

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then.

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!”

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never.

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo.

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever.

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience.

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him.

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his.

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now.

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too.

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey?

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours.

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway.

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face.

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things?

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about.

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks.

“See you soon?” you mumbled.

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way.

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face.

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you.

seven.

One day before your birthday.

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.”

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all.

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say.

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there?

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze.

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room.

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears.

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth.

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty.

All traces of Hyunjin were gone.

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal.

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.”

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along.

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart.

Your best friend was truly gone.

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.”

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn.

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter.

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more.

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay.

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse.

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight.

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip.

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath.

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time.

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do.

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him?

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over.

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you.

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear.

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more.

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment.

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five.

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time.

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you.

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.

There are five stages of grief.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things.

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them.

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it.

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries.

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!”

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip.

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking.

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin.

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man.

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap.

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back.

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it.

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty.

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin.

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia.

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized.

It was a fragment of your memory.

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved.

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face?

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display.

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece.

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy.

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible.

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch.

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears.

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up.

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other.

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.”

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love.

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises.

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot.

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession.

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that.

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear.

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled.

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well.

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint.

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over.

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend.

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one.

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body.

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body.

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs.

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago.

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything.

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed.

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment.

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again.

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine.

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper.

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak.

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way.

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

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mead-iocre · 13 days ago

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˚　.˚　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　. ੈ

brat!reader is planning to wear this shirt to one of alexia's games. she paired it with her favourite black balloon mini skirt, coperni aged leather brown knee high boots, and her favourite vintage denim coach bag.

she double checked her bag, making sure all her essentials were in there-- sunglasses, gum, phone, and vape. check check check and check.

she was just about to walk out the door when all of a sudden she is yanked by the arm by none other than her girlfriend. alexia's eyes widen when she reads the text on her shirt.

"bebé, you cannot wear that"

an eyebrow raise. sometimes she underestimated how good alexia’s english is getting. damn. brat!reader was really hoping she could get away with it. "what do you mean I can-not wear this?"

"I mean-- people-fans might see you or the cameras might catch you--and people might think--"

"might think what? that all we do is hold hands and touch foreheads?"

alexia sighs audible, her hand instinctively coming up to massage her temple. her blood pressure is rising and the match hasn't even started yet. she starts mumbling a prayer in her mother tongue. the last thing she needs right now is a migraine before a home match against a tough opponent.

"estoy hablando en serio. just change the shirt and we can go"

brat!reader stomps one boot-covered leg down against the wooden floor, frustrated that she's being asked to change when her outfit looks so good. alexia willed herself to not pick a fight, not when she's got a match to focus.

"Vale. fine. puta madre. just wear this over it." Alexia shrugs off her own sweatshirt that she had on, hastily throwing it at her girlfriend before rushing to find something else to wear.

brat!reader could hear her cursing up a storm, muttering in broken spanish under her breath. she complies anyway because the sweatshirt is kinda cute, plus it smells like sandalwood, violet and old leather that lingers from alexia's signature perfume. she wears alexia’s sweatshirt, snapping a few pics with her new fit to post on instagram later.

she can wear the t-shirt some other time.

"ready to go, baby?" is what greets alexia when she finally manages to find another top to throw on that would suit the rest of her fit. her nicely styled hair a few minutes ago was now in slight disarray from the amount of shirts she tried on and then yanked back off. her face is stoic, eyes dark.

"cierren la boca. keep your mouth shut or else i will leave you on the side of the road." is all alexia says before she ends it with a pinch to brat!reader's ass beneath her billowy mini skirt. "do not piss me off. I mean it."

since the match will be played at home, players are free to drive to the stadium with their own cars. when they arrive at the stadium they have to split up— brat!reader to the suits and alexia with the team (obviously). by some miracle, brat!reader had somehow managed to leave alexia alone for the entire drive, far too focused on her phone, replying to instagram comments and messages. alexia was finally able to clear her mind for a short while.

“I’ll see you after” all low and monotone. alexia grabs her Louis Vuitton toiletry bag and locks the car behind her.

“still mad at me?”

“hm.” yeah. she's still mad.

“ok…kiss?”

alexia rolls her eyes and huffs, as if she just got asked to do the most tedious chore. she reaches for her jaw, cupping it with one hand, squeezing her cheeks and forcing brat!readers lips into a pout. she presses a rough kiss onto her lips before pulling away to mutter. “me estas enfadando. you get on my nerves, ya’know that?”

brat!reader just grins at her. oh how she loves to annoy her lover. she sneaks one more quick kiss and bounces away yelling “i love you too. have a good game, la reina!” behind her shoulder, waving at alexia as she walks towards the entrance to the suits. she knows alexia absolutely detests that nickname. she can picture alexia cursing her out in her head, probably saying the most obscene spanish insults she won't even be able to translate to english.

hopefully alexia channels that frustration for her into the game later on and scores a few goals. afterall, alexia plays her best games when she's angry x

˚　.˚　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　. 　

saw the shirt and had to write the quickest blurb ever. must cope the shirt one day x

#brat!reader #brat!reader stories #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas fanfic #woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #barca femeni #fc barca femeni #my fics

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 9 months ago

Note

Hey there could I request G!P professor!nat x shy!quiet!reader where reader goes to the school dance alone and feels like a loser for not having the balls to talk or join in with other people but then nat decides to keep her company because she can’t stand seeing her favorite student all pathetic just standing there like a lost puppy and then they sneak off to do “other” stuff

Favourite

Paring: fem!reader x prof!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, amab!Nat, top!Nat, bottom!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, soft sex, p in v, brief oral, soft!Nat, virgin!reader, gentlewoman!Nat

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

A/N: I’m not dead yet and more active noe

I had always thought in college things would change for girls like me, the quiet ones, with a few friends, who you would only talk to to copy their homework. However it stayed that way or at least for me. I had found my small group of friends but I was far from well socialised in my college. But I wasn’t complaining about it either after all it left more time to study.

Most of the lessons I attended were boring except for one: Russians literature with Professors Romanoff, a tall, athletic woman, with red hair and the greenest eyes you had ever seen. You didn’t mind her talking for hours about poems and novels and what we were supposed to think of them. However you couldn’t care less about the words leaving her mouth when you’re eyes were only fixated on her lips.

Eventually more of the semester passed and soon it was time for the annual ball. Because of your low social status you didn’t even try to find a date opting on going alone instead, it wouldn’t be that bad right?

Once there you where alone, the few friends which you had didn’t bother to attend so you stood alone at the side of the large room your eyes fixated on the ground. You should just go, you thought to yourself. “Good evening, Y/N” you heard the familiar husky voice next to you. You looked up only to be greeted by your smirking professor. She looked gorgeous having picked out a matching suit to her eyes.

“Hi, Ms. Romanoff” she leaned against the wall next to me her eyes darting over my smaller body. “Where’s your date?” “I don’t have one” I answered truthfully, her expression stayed the same it was hard to read her. “And you’re friends?” I sighed she knew the answer to that already. “They didn’t attend.” She chuckled licking her lips like a predator who just found it’s helpless prey. “Poor girl, all alone and needs her professor to keep her company”

I let out a small laugh which sounded incredibly fake. Her words made my cheeks heat and I didn’t even know why. “Could be worse” I looked up in her eyes again “You’re a very pleasant conversation partner” “Am I?” She chuckled “That means a lot to me, hearing my favorite student say something like that” “I’m your favorite?” you stammered out “Trust me bunny a girl like you” Her hand trailed to my hip “You hardly get something like that every ten years. I’m very happy to have you”

Her words made my heart flutter and my head turn. I was special, Romanoff’s girl. “Do you mean that?” My voice was still a bit shaky. “Of course I do. We should go somewhere more private” I nodded her hand intertwined with mine she pulled me with her through the masses into the parking lot. Once seated in her expensive looking her hand never left my thigh before she started the car she leaned over to me our lips inches apart I tried to lean forward but her hands pushed my shoulder back against the car seat.

“Don’t do this to make me happy” She paused her eyes looking sensire “It won’t affect your grade no matter how you decide.” “I want this”

I breathed out our lips immediately finding each other. The kiss was passionate and heated until Nat pulled away to fasten my seat belt.

“I’ll drive to my apartment” She put her own seatbelt on “Is that okay with you or do you want to go to your dorm” “I’d like to join your tonight” Natasha gave you a cheeky grin at the response her plan had worked out perfectly.

Arriving at her apartment she seated you on her leather couch. She paced around her living room having two wine glasses in hand. “Do you want a glass?” I laughed I was extremely nervous but in a good way “Oh, I don’t drink but I’ll have a water instead” She just nodded accepting my preferences.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve met” She laughed slipping away from her wine glass. “And I’m not just saying that because of the wine.” She added she was sat next to her hand on your thigh. She had long forgotten about her crumpled up suit jacket on the ground though she normally was so precise about keeping everything organized.

“You don’t look bad either” You laughed she pulled you on her lap forcing you to but your legs on either side her crotch on yours. “Let me kiss you” she mumbled against you wet lips. You lips were pressed together so where your bodies and you could feel a bulge poking you. “Fuck you make me so hard” she breathed out on your lips making you moan out in response.

We were caught in the dance of our tongues when I felt her standing up her arms under my ass supporting my weight. I giggle and tighten my grip around her. “Let me take you to the bedroom”

She laid me out on the bed being careful with every item removed and making sure I was comfortable. She kissed everything inch of my skin paying extra attention to my sweet spots and I never felt so loved before. “Have you done that before” She breathed put against my skin.

“Never” I answer truthfully and suddenly I felt a dang of jealousy in my chest. “Is that- a problem?” My professor moved up again before kissing me “Of course not” She looked me in the eyes with her green eyes. “Will you let me be your first” She was being incredibly cheesy but Iiked that. It made me feel safe. “Yes”

She took one of my nipples in her mouth twisting and turning the other with her trained fingertips. She made me putty in her hands with each lick or flick she brought a new sound from my tongue.

My back arched which only made her increase the speed of her movements. After she seemed it to be enough foreplay she kissed her way down to my pubic bone, pressing her nose against my skin to take in the smell of my sweet arrausel. “Can I bunny?” She smirked and kissed your clit I was already wet but Nat was dying for a taste. She flicked her tongue over my now exposed bud. The pleasure was incredible better than any other toy I ever had and you tried to not lose my mind as she teased you bundle of nerves.

She pulled away shortly after ripping away my release in front of my eyes. I looked at her confused as she was already freeing herself from her boxer. She didn’t have a size to be ashamed of and her bush was well groomed too, like you would’ve suspected. She pumped herself a few times groaning until she was fully hard a little droplet of cum on the redden tip.

“Wait I’ll put a condom on” She reached for the drawer but you stopped her “I’m on the pill” Her lips formed a smirk as she positioned herself between my legs. “It’s not gonna hurt sweetheart” She reassured you kissing my neck.

She pushed inside and I making me scratch down her toned back making her whimper. Fuck her whimpers where hot. She bottomed me out looking down at where our bodies were connected she smiled up at you and you smiled back and after I nodded to her she picked up pace.

She was slow at first making me want more you could tell she being careful with you. “Faster” I moaned out making you hips buckle into her trusts. She moaned like a pornstar panting above me as she increased her speed the bed creaking. She made my back arch and my eyes squeezed shut as I released my quiet prayers for her.

“You close?” She panted and I nod “Fuck, your so tight” I grabbed on her shoulders scratching down as I came all over her shortly after she filled me up too. She pulled out the cum leaking down my legs. She climbed up my body flipping us over so I lay on her chest.

“You’re my favourite” She whispered and kissed my sweaty forehead

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff

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sansaorgana · 7 months ago

Text

— TAMED

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You're a cat lover and Feyd-Rautha reminds you of one. You want him and you believe you can tame him.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is not exactly what the request was about but it includes Feyd having to deal with his wife's pet (I chose a cat because I'm a cat person myself). You see, I was a bit tired of my Readers being afraid and scared and I was also tired of the arranged marriage trope, which is one of my favourites, but everyone needs a break, huh? 😅

WARNINGS — harm to animals mentioned, brief mentions of Feyd's traumatic past, Reader being absolutely spoiled

WORD COUNT — 4,230

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

TAMED

“I want him,” you announced as you put your binoculars down and your lips curled into a smirk.

Your parents looked at each other, confused. You were in the stands as the guests invited to watch Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s gladiator fight. It was his birthday and his uncle made sure all the leaders of the befriended worlds were watching the display of violence and power. The display that made your parents absolutely terrified but you… You were amazed and aroused. The way young Feyd-Rautha defeated his enemies was like a brutal dance; a raw ritual. He was a feral feline and you were known to be a cat lover.

“Excuse me?” Your father asked.

“I want him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you repeated without even looking at him. Your eyes were focused only on the man in the arena who was raising his knife in a gesture of victory.

“These people are insane,” your mother hissed.

“You keep telling me it’s time for me to find a husband. I want him,” you pouted. You were determined – but not desperate.

“I can talk to Baron Harkonnen. But I am sure he would rather marry his nephew and heir to one of the Imperial Princesses,” your father informed you as your mother gasped at his words. She opposed the idea of this match completely.

“I understand,” you nodded. “Just do whatever it takes so if you fail, I will know you couldn’t possibly do more.”

He reluctantly agreed as he squeezed your cheek as if you were still a little girl. But perhaps it was a good thing that in his eyes you still were one. Because he would do anything to make you happy and fulfil your every whim.

You spotted your father talking to Baron Harkonnen during his nephew’s birthday party but you didn’t want to just stand in the corner and wait for the men to make decisions in your name. Despite your mother’s protests, you approached Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and bowed slightly in sign of respect. He tilted his head, reminding you of a curious cat. You giggled and he squinted his eyes.

“Na-Baron, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person after seeing you fight in the arena,” you admitted.

“Lady (Y/N),” he greeted you coldly. “I wouldn’t expect such interests from a lady like you.”

“And I expected you would know more about the female nature,” you teased him and visibly angered him although he was trying to be on his best behaviour around guests. “Don’t you know that ladies love violence? The interesting ones at least,” you shrugged your arms.

“I don’t care what ladies like,” he answered. “I always get what I want either way.”

“I’m sure you do,” your eyes sparkled at a possibility of being one of the things he would want to claim for himself.

Most noble women were scared and disgusted after hearing all the stories about Feyd-Rautha and his sexual appetite, his psychotic nature. They would approach him only when needed and tried to stay away as far as possible. You were the very rare breed of women who would actually take interest in him and that intrigued him as he looked you up and down.

You gave him one last smile and walked back to your worried mother who was about to scold you for your reckless behaviour. However, for the rest of the night you kept glancing at the young na-baron and he was looking back.

When you left the party, earlier than most people, you made sure to announce loud and clear that you were about to retire to your chambers. Then you looked deep into his eyes and walked out, followed by a servant. You dismissed her when you were in the guest wing and you continued your journey alone and as slow as possible.

You looked around but Feyd-Rautha seemed not to be following you. At least you could not see nor hear him and for a moment you thought you failed. After all, you were not a skilled seductress, you only did what your heart was telling you to do – your heart and your experience with the animals you loved the most. Cats.

And just like a cat and a skilled assassin that he was, Feyd silently emerged from the darkness when you were just about to open the doors leading to your bedroom. He was standing right behind you and his ominous presence sent a shiver down your spine.

“What are you doing, na-baron?” You swallowed thickly and shivered.

“Don’t pretend,” he whispered in his raspy voice. “You’re not the first spoiled noble lady who wants to use me for pleasure,” he told you. “What is it? Are you bored? Or engaged to an awful lord and you ant to find out what it’s like to have fun before you are forced to spend the rest of your life with him? Honestly, I don’t care,” he admitted and turned you around to face him. His touch was rough and for a second you genuinely felt scared when he trapped you between the doors and his muscular body.

The way he was staring down at you felt as if he was penetrating your soul. Only that his eyes were empty. He was gazing into you but you couldn't gaze back because he didn’t have a soul. There was an endless coldness in his pupils. And so much pain.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I am not one of those women. The only man who can take me will be my husband,” you tried to sound convincing and stern but with a small dose of innocence. He blinked slowly, surprised by your confession.

“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” he insisted.

“No,” you lied. “I was only looking at you because I find you interesting,” you looked down. “But it’s sad what you’ve just told me, my Lord,” you added.

“Why?” Feyd was confused as he took a step back.

“I don’t know… I just think you’re so much more than a toy to use for pleasure,” you looked up again to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you should let those ladies treat you like that. I know you keep telling yourself you like it but it’s not you always getting what you want. It’s them always getting what they want until there is nothing left of you, is it not, na-baron?” You batted your eyelashes and he took another step back, like a predator realising that the prey he had caught was poisonous. “Good night, my Lord… and happy birthday,” you gave him a soft smile and disappeared behind the doors leading to your bedroom.

You couldn’t sleep all night, clutching on the bedsheets and hoping for the best outcome. In the morning your father told you that The Baron was slowly starting to like the idea of your marriage union with his nephew. Apparently, he changed his mind after a conversation with Feyd-Rautha in the early morning.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” your father warned you at the sight of your wide smile.

“Oh, papa, I always do,” you assured him, already excited about your new pet kitty.

You stayed on Giedi Prime for a month for the courting process but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had the privilege of being able to call off the engagement at any moment. That, however, did not happen. He was growing more and more fond of you each day. You were watching him train and walking all around the fortress as he was telling you about his family’s history and culture. You were the most fascinated by the war stories and weapons, always eager to learn more. Always eager to let him steal a kiss here and there, let his hands wander but always stepping back when it would get too heated. You didn’t want him to use you and then discard you. No, he had to be patient for the real reward. Just like cats would lose interest if you let them catch the mouse too quickly.

What you noticed about him, though, was how much he avoided the intimate physical touch. He didn’t mind his opponents striking him or choking him, violating his body in any way, really. But the delicacy was making him flinch and startle to the point of aggression. He wouldn’t lash out at you but he would do that often at the servants. When it was you trying to caress him, he was clenching his jaw and shooting you a deadly glance. The more you knew about him, the more convinced you were that he was just a cat in a human form.

When a month passed, you were scared he would send you away. But instead of doing so, he sent a tailor and a bunch of servants to your room. It was time for you to make all the required fittings for your wedding dress. You sent out the invitations, too. And in the letter addressed to your parents, you mentioned all the things you wanted them to bring you to Giedi Prime.

One of them was your favourite kitty Mephisto.

On the first day of your marriage you were unpacking the boxes from home as Feyd was sitting up in bed and watching you. It was the only day he allowed himself to skip the daily training as the activities between a husband and a wife could count as one, too. However, you required a break and wanted to finally reunite with your favourite items… and your favourite pet.

Feyd’s eyes widened at the sight of a hairless cat in the arms of the servant girl.

“What is that monstrosity?” He asked you.

“That’s Mephisto! My cat!” You took him from the girl’s arms and cuddled him. “Oh, mummy’s been missing you, baby,” you cooed to him and he started to purr.

“You can’t be serious, wife,” Feyd moved closer to inspect the creature with his eyes. Mephisto hissed and you giggled. “That is a cat?”

“You’ve never seen one?” You asked.

“I have. But not like that. It’s ugly,” Feyd scrunched his nose.

“Why ugly?” You gasped and held Mephisto’s head lovingly as if you were protecting him from your husband’s harsh words.

“Cats have fur. This one is so…”

“Bald?” You teased and he closed his mouth, realising the irony. “I have plenty of cats back home but I was aware I couldn’t bring them all here. I chose Mephisto because he is my favourite. We had tough beginnings. He didn’t trust me and he was scratching me a lot. He’s a mean-mean baby,” you leaned in to kiss the cat and Feyd winced as he found it disgusting.

“Do whatever but I don’t want this creature in my chambers,” Feyd stated.

“You’re insane! Mephisto will never leave these chambers. I don’t want him to get lost or hurt in the fortress. Also, he always sleeps with me,” you protested.

Feyd took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

“If he scratches one thing… I will throw him out of the balcony door,” he threatened.

“If you do that, I will never speak to you again. And certainly I won’t ever share the bed with you, husband. Mephisto is like a child to me. You can’t threaten me this way. It does nothing but anger me,” you pointed out and cuddled the cat. “Aw, Mephisto, look, daddy’s angry.”

“I am not this thing’s… father,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth as he stood up to put a robe on. “After all, I think I will go train today.”

“Then go,” you shrugged your arms. “I will cuddle with Mephisto in the meantime because I haven’t seen him in a month.”

Feyd shot you an angry glance.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” You looked up as that sudden realisation hit you.

“No,” he snorted. “Of this thing? Please,” he sneered at you and left the chambers.

“We have lots of work with your new daddy, Mephisto,” you chuckled to the kitty and kissed its head. He meowed at you.

Feyd-Rautha absolutely despised your cat. He hated that you allowed that creature to sleep in bed with you and you were always holding him in your arms. When Feyd was working on paperwork – which he hated – Mephisto would often jump on his desk and bother him. Many times when you were out of the room, Feyd had the urge to grab the creature and throw it out of the balcony or even snap its neck but when he actually extended his hands to catch the cat, the urge disappeared.

First of all, he didn’t want to hurt you. And that was a brand new feeling for him because never before had he cared about someone’s feelings like that. And second of all, the moment the cat was in his arms, Mephisto would start to purr and rub his head on Feyd’s hand or chest. Even though at first he found it disgusting, he quickly started to enjoy it. There was something comforting in the cat’s touch. It was not human and yet so pure. As time passed, he was allowing Mephisto to nap on his lap as he worked on the papers. Of course he would quickly put the cat away whenever someone was coming. He didn’t want anyone to see him so weak.

But he was jealous of the cat, too. He was jealous of the kisses and attention he was getting. The belly rubs and scratches behind the ear. The way Mephisto would curl up and sleep on your chest. Feyd craved it from you, too, but he didn’t know how to allow himself to ask for it. It would be humiliating, he thought, but also dangerous. He wanted to trust you but he was not able to. And whenever you tried to touch him gently, he was haunted by the memories he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t cuddle you at night and he didn’t allow you to do the same. While performing the marital duties, he had a feeling they would be even better if he allowed himself a little gentleness but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not even around you.

For a long time, Mephisto was the only creature that saw the soft side of your husband. When they were alone in your chambers, Feyd would let him not only nap on him but he would also carry him in his arms and pet him. Sometimes he was starting fights for the cat to scratch and bite him and for Feyd it was great fun. They created a bond that you had no idea about. You kept thinking that your husband despised Mephisto and he didn’t mind you thinking this way.

So, when you spotted a scratch on Feyd’s desk one day, you panicked. You quickly covered it with a few papers laying aside and fixed your hair right before your husband walked inside the chambers that afternoon.

“What are you doing here so early?” You asked as he squinted his eyes at you, suspiciously.

“I have to work on the papers, answer some stupid letters,” Feyd sighed and approached you. He put his hands on your waist and inspected your suspicious face. “Is everything alright, wife?” He asked.

“Yes, my dear, perfectly fine,” you faked a smile. “I have to go and work on the preparations for the event next week,” you reminded him and he nodded before leaning in to give you a possessive kiss. He would give you them a few times a day to remind you to whom you belonged. Not that you minded. After all, you had been wanting this from the moment you had seen him in the arena.

“See you later, then, wife,” Feyd sat by the desk and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted him picking up one of the papers you had used to cover the scratch with. However, he didn’t seem to notice the damage done to his desk. You sighed with relief and left the chambers, hoping that Feyd would continue to be blind when it came to that scratch.

But when you came back to your bedroom two hours later, it was empty. You didn’t expect to see Feyd because he had his other duties to perform on that day. What worried you was the fact you couldn’t find your cat. After crawling all over the floor like a madwoman, trying to see if he was not hiding under any furniture, you just burst into tears in the middle of the carpet. You were sure that Feyd had spotted the scratch and gotten rid of your cat. After all, he had threatened to do so on the very first day of your marriage.

You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them as you sobbed, hugging yourself. You could only blame yourself. Your parents had been warning you about the Harkonnens but you still wanted a man like Feyd-Rautha as your husband. Hoping to tame him as it would boost your spoiled ego even further to do that. And now your innocent little kitty was a victim of his fury. Was Mephisto still alive? You hoped so. But even if… how would he survive on Giedi Prime? He would not. And you would not either without him. He was your anchor.

You didn’t want to complain about your husband’s homeplanet because you chose him to be your husband yourself. And some part of you loved him – even though at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore – but it was not a friendly place. And it was not pleasant. It was cold and scary and colourless. Mephisto was reminding you of home. Of your other kittens, of your parents, of the real sunlight. He was also letting you love him like your husband would never do. And he was loving you back… unconditionally. And now he was gone. Your little baby.

You couldn’t tell for how long you had been sobbing like this. It could be hours. When Feyd came back to your chambers, he froze at the sight of you in such a position on the carpet.

“What happened, wife?” He asked as he stood above you. You didn’t answer, too angry at him. He sighed and crouched down to be on your level. “Are you hurt?”

“Yes, I am,” you finally looked at him, furiously. He seemed to be surprised. “I am hurt by what you have done. And now you’re going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Go to hell. I hate you,” you snapped and hid your face again.

“I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me?” He asked, slowly, trying not to snap back at you.

“Mephisto! You got rid of him!” You sobbed.

“What? I have not…” He stuttered and put his arms on your shoulders to make you look up again. So you did but you were as angry as before.

“Don’t lie to me. You hated that cat and you just threw him away because he scratched your desk. Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha, you got rid of an innocent animal, you won with a sinless little baby; my baby. Are you proud of yourself? Was it a satisfying victory to hurt a little kitty?”

Feyd didn’t answer, he was staring at you as if you were crazy.

“It really feels as if you killed my baby,” you told him. “And I will never forgive you.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch him. What happened?” Feyd shook your arms.

“He’s not here. I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s not here,” you sniffled.

“I didn’t do anything!” He protested.

“I don’t believe you!” You moved back, you hated to feel his touch on you. You clumsily stood up and curled on the bed. “I don’t want to see you. Go away. I wanted to love you but you’re rotten to the core. You’re just evil. Unlovable,” you muttered.

You couldn’t know how hurtful your words were. But Feyd didn’t blame you because you couldn’t know his true feelings. And he focused more on Mephisto anyway. He was worried about the kitty, too. So, after a while of staring at you without a word, he put his hand on his hip and looked around, as if he would magically find the cat. He even looked under the bed as your sobs filled the room.

Without a word, Feyd left the bedroom and you hugged your own arms as the pillow under your head was getting wet from your tears.

It was dark already and you were half asleep when the doors opened again. It brought you back from the state of slumber but you felt too hopeless to even lift a hand to turn on the light. You recognised Feyd’s silhouette approaching you so you decided to ignore him completely. Nothing could fix this damage. Never.

You felt him sitting on the edge of the bed while turning the bedside lamp on. You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness.

“I found him,” Feyd’s whisper made your eyes open as you sat up rapidly, utterly shocked at the sight of Mephisto in your husband’s arms.

“Wh-what?” You asked. At first, your sleepy and foggy brain refused to believe that the cat was really your Mephisto.

“He was hiding in the dungeons,” Feyd explained. “I searched through the whole fortress to find him. Hired half of the guards to help me. My uncle found it hilarious,” Feyd handed you the kitty and you sobbed out of relief. Mephisto was stinking but he was alive and healthy. You hugged him tight to your chest. “One of the servants was not cautious enough and left the doors ajar when she was cleaning here.”

“Which one?” You asked, angrily.

“It doesn’t matter. I have dealt with her already,” Feyd assured you and you nodded.

You suddenly began to feel guilty for the way you had treated your husband before. Now, when Mephisto was back in your arms and it was all thanks to Feyd…

“I didn’t expect you to care so much,” you admitted, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze. Your hands focused on caressing the cat. “That you didn’t want me to be sad.”

“You’re my wife of free choice. I don’t want my wife to be sad,” Feyd nodded. “And I wanted the cat back,” he added. You eventually looked up at him, surprised by his confession.

“You hate him,” you reminded him.

“Not at all,” Feyd smirked nervously and you didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea that he actually liked the cat. You still had a lot to learn when it came to the ways in which your husband would show his affection.

“I was cruel to you,” you whispered. “I am sorry.”

“You had your reasons to be,” he only said. “And you were not wrong about me.”

“I was,” you moved to the side gently, making a space in bed for him to lay there, too.

So he did, without a word. And one of his hands actually caressed Mephisto’s head. The cat began to purr and you realised they had already had a bond that you had just not noticed before.

Hesitantly, you dared to raise one of your hands, too. You gently brushed Feyd’s forehead and then his cheek. He didn’t startle this time and you happily began to explore every curve of his beautiful face with your fingertips.

“You’re funny,” you giggled and he looked up, curiously. “You’re the scariest Harkonnen but you’re also the prettiest,” you admitted and he blushed a little. You had never expected to see him blush. “And look at you, you allow me to touch you.”

“It feels good when you do that,” Feyd closed his eyes just like Mephisto had his own pair shut close. You swore, if your husband was an actual animal, he would start purring under your touch.

You felt proud of yourself to tame him. You had known from the moment you had seen him that you would succeed. But it was not the pride that made your heart swell. It was love. There was something about Feyd-Rautha that just made you want to treat him like a kitty, too. Scratch him behind his ear and let him sleep on your chest. Most ladies would call you insane for that but you knew him in a way they would never know him. You leaned in to place a kiss upon Mephisto’s forehead and then you did the same to Feyd-Rautha.

“I’m sorry I have doubted you,” you whispered to him. “You would never hurt me, am I right?”

He only hummed in response, moving even closer to your body. You smiled to yourself.

“I have tamed you, husband, have I not?”

But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. You had never seen his face so relaxed and carefree before. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.

And as much as you loved Mephisto like your own little baby… You had a new favourite pet now.

MASTERLIST

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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