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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body.

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal.

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock.

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.”

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?”

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell.

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride.

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.”

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base.

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise.

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks.

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!”

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms his hard and heavy cock as he pleases.

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears.

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires.

you think you prefer that side of you more.

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.”

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation.

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle.

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends.

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him.

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell.

that day, you learn two valuable lessons:

one — never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills.

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

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hyunverse · 1 month

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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."

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @starlostlaiba , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs, @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld

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danveration · 3 months

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Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow

Parings: Creepy!Vox x GN!reader

Summary: Vox is obsessed with you and he uses his VoxTek to stalk you

Word count: 1437

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, one mention of Vox getting a hard-on, Vox being delusional, jealousy, k*lling, Vox jerking off

A/N: First time writing for Vox!! I got this idea from some amazing person on discord:’) I immediately went insane w the idea and had to write it up

“I can’t get them out of my HEAD!” He yells angrily, banging his fists on the table.

Valentino and Velvet have noticed his behaviour towards you and tried to talk sense into him.

“They’re nothing special, Vox! Just another sinner. Get over them.”

“You tell us to not ruin our reputation but look at you. You’re a mess.”

“Maybe just.. go talk to them? Instead of being a fucking creep.”

Vox doesn’t listen. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7 and who you’re doing it with. He has cameras set up everywhere. In your room, bathroom, hotel (as you’re currently living at the hazbin hotel), the street lights. Absolutely everywhere. He doesn’t want to meet you just yet, not until he learns everything about you so he can charm you off your feet.

You don’t even know him. You’ve heard of him through hell, yes. But you’ve never actually seen him face to face. Alastor has told you all that he isn’t anything to worry about, in which you believe him. Apparently he owns all the electronics in hell or something like that? You’ve seen posters of him and you think it’s kinda neat how he has a full on tv head as a face. But other than that, you never gave much thought to him.

———————————————————————

Today was just another day. You woke up, took a shower, went downstairs to have breakfast, and hung out at the hotel. Nothing of which you thought anything of, it’s just a normal boring day.

But Vox on the other hand thought differently. He thought everything you did was the most exciting, interesting thing ever.

“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck, they’re waking up.” He says, getting closer to one of the MANY tv screens he has in this room.

He looks at you in awe, touching the tv screen gently.

“So fucking cute when they’re waking up. Look at them, my god.” He whispers.

He watches you as you get out of bed, yawning. Watches you get undressed, and into the shower.

“Such a perfect body. I’d treat you so right. Better than anyone else could.” He says as he watches you wash yourself. He feels himself get a hard-on, but ignores it. He needs to have all his attention on you.

Watching you shower, learning your routine and what product you use, he stores all the information in one of his computer folders.

After you get out, he watches you choose what clothing to wear.

“Aww, that’s my favourite top on you.” He says in awe.

Then, you go downstairs to eat and hangout with your fellow hotel members.

Vox knows all your favourite foods and least favourite foods, to when you come over to live with him one day. He wants everything to be perfect. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

“You’re gonna haaavee..” He starts while you’re picking out what to eat.

“Fruit with cereal!” He shouts just as you pick it up.

“HAHA! Fucking knew it.” He says.

After you eat, he watches you interact with people.

He hates it. Hates when you talk to other people. What if they get too close to you? What if you like them more than him? So many thoughts cross his mind.

“Oh don’t you dare talk to-“ He starts while you’re walking up to Alastor.

You start talking to Alastor about something and Vox’s eye twitches.

He remains keeping his cool, but inside he wants to march over there and take you away. But he can’t do that, can he? That would be a horrible first impression! Even though he’s sure you’d fall for him in no time, he can’t risk it.

Right now, you’re sitting on a chair, scrolling through your phone.

Of course, Vox has hacked your phone too. He has another tv in which he can see exactly what you see.

He’s intently watching you play Angry Birds, when an ad comes up. Not just any ad, but a VoxTek ad.

You’re intrigued because this is the “Vox” you’ve heard of. You click it and Vox almost falls over.

“OH MY GOD. YOU-“ He scrambles to get as close as possible to the screen.

You start scrolling through the VoxTek website. It seems pretty cool, honestly. There’s a lot of “Trust us.” quotes, which you find kinda suspicious. But nonetheless, you’ve been wanting a new laptop since yours broke a while back. Why not give it a go?

You find a good priced laptop that actually seems like it’ll work really well, so you decided to buy it online.

Vox’s eyes widen.

“YOU- I-“ He stares in shock. You bought something from HIS website. You KNOW about him, it’s confirmed now.

He has the great idea to hand-deliver you the laptop. That’s a great first impression isn’t it?

He jumps up and goes to put on his best outfit. Making sure he looks 11/10. He cleans his screen, puts a mint in his mouth, and walks to the room where they keep all their product, finding the one you ordered.

He looks to his right, seeing the one you ordered, but then he looks down and sees one that’s 10x the money you paid for that one, and it’s their BEST laptop. It has so many features that he knows you’ll use. It’s their most high end product. He’s gotta give you that one instead. You deserve it.

He picks it up and puts it into a box, sealing it and putting a nice red bow on it. He kisses it and walks out.

“Vox? Where are you going? You’re looking quite fancy.” Valentino stops him as he’s about to walk out of the building.

“Oh nowhere!” Vox answers as he walks out. He doesn’t want Val to give him a hard time about this.

Val looks in question, but just walks off.

As Vox is walking to the hotel, he’s rehearsing his lines.

“Ah! Y/n. Hello there, I’m here to give you your laptop.” He mumbles. “No that sounds so fucking.. Hi, Y/n! Here’s your laptop.”

He mumbles a bunch of fraises when finally, he arrives on the doorstep.

He adjusts his bow tie and takes a deep breathe, knocking on the door.

You perk up at a knock on the door, you’re the only one at the hotel right now, other than Niffty. You go to answer it, wondering who it’ll be.

As you open the door, Vox’s heart stops.

It’s.. Vox? That tv guy! That’s weird, you literally just ordered a laptop from his site about 20 minutes ago.

He’s staring at you, mouth open.

“Uh.. hello?” You say with a questionable tone.

“Oh! Oh, shit. Hi! I’m here to hand deliver you that laptop you ordered.” He chuckles. “Well, actuallyyy, I got you a better one.” He whispers that last part.

You’re very confused. Do they hand deliver every laptop that someone buys?

“Oh um.. thank you! Thanks a lot.” You say, reaching out to take the box.

“Oh of course!” He says with a smile, handing it over to you.

“Do you like the bow? I picked it out just for you, Y/n.” He says.

You feel a weird sensation in your stomach when he says your name. How’d he..? I guess you have to put your name in the website when you order it. So that’s probably how he knows your name!

“Oh yeah! It’s.. a great bow.” You chuckle awkwardly.

You stand their in silence as he’s looking at you, seemingly so to be admiring you.

He realizes this is probably weird for you and takes a step back.

“Well! Haha. It was nice to meet you.” He says with a smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

Adjusting the box to hold it with one hand, you take your other one and shake his hand. As you do, you feel an electric shock.

“S-sorry about that.” He says, pulling his hand away.

“Oh it’s alright, don’t worry!” You answer, finding it kinda interesting.

Vox’s internal monologue is screaming. He just TOUCHED your hand. He’s never washing this hand. Ever.

He doesn’t want to leave but he knows he overstayed his welcome. It doesn’t matter though, he will see you again soon. There will be more meetings, more and more and more until you beg to see him.

“Cya, Y/n!” He waves at you, walking away with a satisfied smile.

“Bye!” You say, walking inside.

He goes home and jerks off to the hand you touched, moaning your name and cumming all over himself.

He’s got it bad for you.

#:vox #my works #hazbin hotel #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin #vox hazbin hotel #vox habin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #vox imagine #vox smut #dark!vox #vox hazbin x reader #vox x reader hazbin hotel

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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LOVE EXPERT — NEUVILLETTE.

contents. established relationships, it’s literally just teaching neuvillette how to cuddle bc he doesn’t understand humans sobs :(, also idk how to write him yet. i apologize i tried my best. i’ll get it soon i swear

“come here,” you tug neuvillette by the arm, shuffling closer, “i want to try something.”

neuvillette, for all his brilliance, doesn’t understand human customs—you can’t help but find it hopelessly endearing.

he doesn’t understand the concept of bringing you flowers. you’ve never minded, never mentioned it until one day, lady furina teases that he’s never brought you so much as a single rose. he questions you that day, innocent and curious and just a bit confused, if it’s normal to gift flowers, if they mean anything special. so you chuckle, kissing between his brows as you explain to him. he brings you them regularly from then on.

one time, he notices a couple holding hands, eyeing their intertwined fingers and swinging arms—you watch in amusement as he studies them for a while, watch him simmer in his thoughts before you chuckle and grab his own hand, squeezing gently. he makes sure not to let go for the rest of the day, making a point to tangle your fingers and guide you through the city. you realize after that day that he’s probably never felt someone’s body so close to his—and you decide you’ll have to change that.

“what…what are you doing?” he asks, looking at you confused. for a second you think he might be uncomfortable, and then you realize he really doesn’t know.

he’s certainly the most unique man you’ve ever dated.

“i’m cuddling you, of course,” you grin, resting your head against his sturdy chest as your arm loops around his neck. he sits stiffly on the couch, as if it’s his chair in the court, as if he’s not here to relax.

“and that is…?” he raises an eyebrow.

you giggle, shaking your head as you lean up and kiss his cheek affectionately. he’s adorable—quite uninformed about romantic affairs, but adorable all the same. and he tries his best, just for you.

“we hold each other, like this—” you explain, taking his arm and wrapping it around yourself. you shuffle closer, pressed tightly against his body as your hand finds his chest, “—and it’s romantic.”

“i see,” he nods, “i think…i think i understand.”

you’re pretty sure he does not understand—you chuckle to yourself as his forehead is still covered with those crinkles from his furrowed brows, the gears in his head working to try and figure out what makes you crave this. and then you start to rub circles into his chest, and the tension melts instantly from his shoulders…and then he thinks he does understand.

“isn’t it nice?” you murmur, cheek pressed against where his heart is as his hand lays on your hip—it’s warm, he thinks. you’re warm, and you’re close, and he can feel your heart beating from being so near. “we get to just feel each other, you know? and not worry about anything else.”

“but…your worries won’t disappear simply by holding—”

“oh, neuvillette,” you huff, “you always take things so literally. just relax, would you?”

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely, as if he’s offended you by not understanding your cuddles. you look up at him fondly, cupping his cheek as you stroke a thumb over the soft skin.

“you don’t have to apologize, silly,” you peck his lips, trying to hold back the laugh that bubbles through your throat. and, if you’re not mistaken, you think there might just be a faint pout tugging at his corners of his mouth.

“now you’re laughing at me,” he frowns.

“i’m not,” you insist, smiling teasingly, “i just find you adorable, is all.” and then, as your head finds its way back to rest on him, you add, “it’s just nice to have someone close. to know they’re right here with you. does that make sense?”

“yes,” he smiles softly, “i suppose it does.” and then his hand starts to mimic yours, rubbing those slow, careful circles into your hip just like you do against his chest. “i enjoy having you close. your presence is comforting.”

“you’re catching on,” you tease, grinning brightly, “pretty soon you’ll be an expert at love.”

“i’m not so sure i’m quite there yet,” he chuckles, but his cheeks are dusted a light shade of pink.

you think you fall deeper in love right there—there are so many feelings neuvillette doesnt understand, but you’ll help him. slowly but surely, you’ll teach him by loving him in between every emotion so that it’s easier.

“i think you’re doing great,” you say softly, “i love you, y’know.”

he knows he understands this much for certain when he replies, “i as well, love you. very much.”

guys he’s literally just a weepy dragon are u kidding me we have to coddle him i accept nothing else

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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little-diable · 9 months

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Hate - Draco Malfoy (smut)

Oh boy, this is filthy, like really fucking filthy. I don’t know what came over me, but I hope you’ll love this just as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, pure hate fuck

Warnings: 18+, smut unprotected piv, oral (m), degrading, hate fuck

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (about 1.2k words)

“You fucking bitch, you just had to ruin it for me, didn’t you?” Draco had her pressed against the wall, eyes trying to burn holes through her skin. His rings left marks on her throat, keeping her in place, with no way to escape. She was heavily panting, snarling at the man.

“You deserved it, you’re nothing more than an insecure piece of-” the rest of her sentence was left unspoken as Draco crashed his lips against hers, kissing her with an all too familiar hunger spurring him on. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to one another, letting their anger, their hatred for one another guide them.

“I’d be careful if I were you, (y/n), I have no problem with making you pay right here in the hallway. But it’d be a shame if somebody would see you with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, kneeling for me, wouldn’t it? We don’t want to ruin your reputation.” His voice had a dangerous undertone to it, dripping with something that left her thighs clenching and her walls fluttering around nothing. Draco held a special kind of magic over her, nothing they had learned about in the past years, more darker and sinister than ever allowed. Both hated one another deep down to the core, spitting and growling words towards one another whenever they could, and yet neither of them could stay away from the other.

“You’re all talk and no bite, Malfoy, nothing more than daddy’s little boy.” A deep growl left Draco, pulling (y/n) away from the wall to push her into the nearest empty classroom, locking it before anybody could follow them. Their lips fought for victory, tongues tangled as (y/n) was pushed against the nearest desk, hissing in pain. His ring clad fingers pulled her skirt up to her waist, forcing her to hiss as the cold air teased her soaked panties.

“I will fuck your bratty attitude right out of you, just like a slut like you deserves to be treated.” A whimper left (y/n) as his hand met her behind, set on leaving his marks on her. “But first, I’ll fuck that mouth of yours, make you forget all your empty threats.”

(Y/n) dropped to her knees without protesting, parting her lips like she had done numerous times before. She watched him free his hardening cock, pushing his precum bearded tip past her lips, letting her taste him. His taste stuck to her tongue, forcing moans out of the both of them as she traced his veins with her skilled tongue, burning words, confessions into his skin.

“Fuck, it’d be so much easier if you’d always listen to me, giving your body to me like my own toy, mine to use how I like.” Heavy pants left Draco as he stared down on her, watching her bob her head, begging him to hold onto her. His fingers tugged on her hair, guiding her for a few more seconds before he pulled her away. “Against the desk, I want to feel that tight, perfect cunt of yours.”

She was pulled to her feet, bent over the desk without another warning, leaving her gasping as the edge of the desk collided with her hips, sure to leave marks. It was an inferno that guided them, a fire so vicious that all those surrounding them would burn to death, but not them, never the two of them, deeply connected, no matter if they liked it or not.

“Please, Draco, fuck me, need you inside of me.” His hand came in contact with her behind again, forcing her to shut up, quiet for the growling man who couldn’t hold back, spitting into his palm to lube himself up, saliva mixed with hers. He didn’t hold back as he pushed into her, didn’t give her any warning, hand placed on the back of her head to press her face against the desk. Curses left the both of them, heavily breathing as he fucked her against the desk, leaving her arousal dripping down her thighs.

The sound of his cock disappearing inside her tightness filled the room, paired with their moans and groans, a mixture so intimate no one would guess that the both were fuelled by their hatred. They were trembling in anger, filled with something that could leave one burning with the first, careful touch.

“It’s a shame you’re such a bitch, otherwise I’d do nothing else but fuck you every single day.” His words left her walls clenching, unable to bite down the pictures now filling her mind, wondering how it must feel to stick to his side day in, night out. (Y/n) had her eyes squeezed shut, letting go of heavy breaths as she clung to the edge of the table, trying to claw her fingernails into the wood.

“Let me cum, please.” Draco didn’t reply, all he did was hum as he dug his fingertips into her hips, holding onto her. His pace grew faster, rougher, set on making her cum on his cock before he’d give in. (Y/n)‘s moans grew higher, letting go with his name rolling off her tongue like a spell she knew by heart.

Her orgasm rocked through her with an almost unfamiliar intensity, leaving her trembling and aching, unable to support herself much longer. Draco pulled out of her, forcing her back down on her aching knees so he could fuck her mouth, set on filling her cheeks with his cum. Tears dripped down her cheeks, clinging to her skin like a veil.

“You’ll be a good girl for me and swallow, won’t you?” (Y/n) tried to nod her head, humming around his cock as a simple reply to the question that left her trembling. She loved hearing his moans - even though she’d never tell him that - loved to watch him fall apart, all because of her. Draco fucked her mouth, forcing his cock deep down her throat, leaving her gagging for him.

“God, fuck.” His eyes rolled back into his head, head thrown back as he came down her throat, pumping her cheeks full with his release. She swallowed every drop just like he had asked her to, clean tongue exposed to his piercing eyes as he pulled away, tugging his cock back into his trousers.

“Look at you, you’re so pathetic. Kneeling for the guy you claim to hate, but we both know you don’t hate me, you love me, you love the idea of being owned by me. Just as much as I love owning you.”

#Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x Reader #harry potter imagine

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

Note

Really? Thank you so much, you are so very sweet. I was just going to request some pent-up, passionate, loving, wedding night sex with Miggy because they've wanted to get handsy for a long time but couldnt because of the fact that they were in public and now they're married and just want to celebrate privately.

Thank you so much, again, you're so kind for that

hii lovie!! :(( you’re so sweet, ofc, anytime !! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

MR AND MRS O’HARA

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count. 630

warnings. 18+ only!! unprotected pinv, size kink? bit of teasing, slow, lovey-dovey sex, think that’s all. mdni

You both spent the day cautious, declining touches from one another, far too worried that it may lead to something else - that it may lead to a quickie in the storage room during the reception. So, to deflect the situation, you and Miguel would keep kisses and lingering touches to an absolute minimum - wanting to wait until night when you'd finally be alone.

Luckily for you both, that moment eventually came around.

Miguel was all over you from the very second he got you alone - lips latched on yours, working over them as if were deprived of your delicate touch -which he was- briskly walking you backwards into your grand wedding suite, undressing yourselves. He made haste movements as he undid the back of your dress, desperately wanting to feel as much of your skin in as little as possible.

He led you to the edge of the bed, his towering height peering down at you, staring in awe at the measly pair of lace white underwear you wore specially for tonight - for him. He slips his large hands past your throat and into the backs of your hair, holding behind your neck, forcing you to peek up at him.

Even though he was desperate for you, he remained gentle, touching and caressing your heated skin with love and kindness, utter compassion as he roamed your upper body.

He mutters a soft praise against your lips as he guides you, laying you on the mattress behind.

You adjust, scooching up the bed, bringing Miguel with you so he hovers above, his massive build caging you to the sheets. He shifts his weight, balancing on one forearm to slip a hand between you, sliding his palm down your jittering stomach and all the way down between your thighs.

"Don't look down there. Look up at me, cariño," Miguel softly mumbles, searching for your gaze as he teased over the mound in your underwear - thumbing over your clit through the damp fabric. Whispering against your lips, "Such pretty eyes."

All teasing stopped when he slipped himself from your grasp, moving down the bed to sit on his knees between your legs. He palms over the large, bulging tent in his boxers before pulling his cock out over the waistband, rolling over the reddened, leaking tip. He keeps his gaze fixed on you, watching how you gulped and squirmed under his attention, eyes flickering between his fat dick and pretty face.

Itching forward, he slides his thick head through your folds, parting your glistening pussy, collecting your juices with his cock.

"Been waitin' for you all day," he husks, his voice hoarse - struggling to even his breathing. "All day."

"I know— me too," you roughly exhale, screwing your eyes closed when you feel him trail his cock a little lower - down to where you wanted him.

You wanted to savour this moment - hang onto it, but you've been waiting far too long, and if you continued the teasing, neither of you would last long.

He places a firm grip at the base of his cock, guiding himself towards you, slowly pushing his head through your plushy folds and into your sweet cunt. He stills, letting you adjust around his thick tip, allowing your greedy pussy to swallow his cock at your own pace.

Miguel's chest is finally flush with yours once more, his broad torso caging you to the mattress - large palms cupping your face, lips smothering yours, swallowing your pretty moans. His desperate touch remains delicate, only caressing you with tender love and care as he slowly winds into you - giving you soft, gentle strokes, nice and slow.

Treating his new, beautiful wife with all the love and warmth she deserves <3

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

#request #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #miguel spiderverse

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swingsuckerswing · 2 years

Text

Gentle With Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Eddie Munson x Virgin!Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x OFC

PART 2 HERE

Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Reader asks Hawkins High’s favorite freak to deflower her before they graduate. Reader has had a crush on Eddie since forever and only trusts him to do it right. Unbeknownst to her, Eddie has also been crushing hard. He takes extra special care of her ;)

Warnings: NSFW, vaginal penetration, safe sex, mentions of blood, first time, deflowering, loss of virginity, fluff and smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), he talks you through it, constant checking in, aftercare

Word Count: 7,908 (sorry, this got super long!)

Hope you like it! :)

This was probably the worst idea you had ever had. In fact, you didn’t realize you could even be this stupid. Hey, cheers to you, jackass!

Your fingers were sweating around the tightly folded note. You had taken forever just to fold it, not to mention the eon it took to come up with the short yet somehow super fucking intimidating message.

“Woods. 4:30″

Seriously? It had taken you almost the entire lunch period to come up with that? God, what if he thinks I’m gonna like jump him or something? But it would have to do, time was running out and if you didn’t do it now you know you’d only chicken out later. God you’re such a fucking idiot for this.

You looked up to scan the lunchroom. All the other tables, including your own, were too enthralled in their conversations to notice you hunched over your notebook as if you were plotting an assassination. Seriously, you had to calm down. Its just a note. A note for a certain metal head who you were hoping would take your virginity...Yeah...totally not a big deal and super normal. You fucking dunce.

You let your eyes wander to the table, a beloved lunchtime activity of yours. Eddie Munson was throwing his head back in a loud, deep cackle as the entire table erupted into fits of laughter. It looks like Dustin, one of the freshmen, had just snorted milk out of his nose. Charming. You watched in envy as the boys hunched over themselves with the kind of laughter that makes your abs burn. “Dude....I’m gonna..... be sick!” you hear Jeff choke out in between his giggles. The whole scene coaxed a tender smile out of you.

Mike, the only other freshmen at their table, was handing Dustin napkins while wiping tears of boyish joy from his own eyes. Eddie leaned into the group and said something too low for you to make out. Whatever he said caused another wave of debilitating laughter from the guys before he stood up, took a bow, and walked towards the exit. Probably off to get one last cigarette in before class. With Eddie out of the picture, it was now or never.

The bell rang, jolting you out of your paralysis. Shit, this has to happen right now. “Aren’t you coming, Y/N?” your friend asked. Your group already had their books in hand and were standing around the table waiting for you to join.

“Uh yeah, I’m just finishing up this last problem. Can’t turn in another late homework!” you chuckle, trying your best to act as inconspicuous as possible. Your friends shrug and wave as they head towards the hallway.

You glance back over to the Hellfire table. Perfect, only Mike and Dustin were left, still trying to dry Dustin’s shirt with the now tattered napkins. You make a bee line towards them.

“Dude just hold sti-”

“I AM holding still, Mike. AND STOP RUBBING YOU’RE ONLY MAKING IT WORSE! You have to dab!”

“Oh my GOD, shut up Dusti-”

“Hey guys!” you interrupt their bickering. They both freeze and stare up at you, mouths agape. Dustin is holding his arms mid-air so Mike can dab at the front of his shirt (but lets be real, he really was only just rubbing the milk into the fabric). They simultaneously retract their arms at the speed of light, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! I was just wondering if you could uh give this to Eddie when you see him?” you slide the note across the table next to Dustin’s tray.

The freshmen can’t seem to form words, in fact they’ve completely forgotten how to form syllables. They weren’t used to senior girls coming up to ask them favors, or ask them for anything at all really.

It was Dustin who snapped out of it first “Oh! Yeah! Totally!” he picks up the note and inspects it. “What is it-”

“Its nothing!” you reply way too fast. Shit, just chill out. Even if they read the dumb thing they’d just assume I was buying weed or something. “Oh, uhm, okay.” Dustin steals a questioning glance at Mike before tucking the note into his pocket. “We’ll uh make sure Eddie gets it!” Mike assures.

“Great, and uhm one more..teeny tiny request...” you look over your shoulder to make sure Eddie hadn’t miraculously appeared behind you. The two boys lean in, entirely wrapped up in the secrecy of this whole charade. “When you give it to him, could you not mention who its from? Just tell him its a surprise, or whatever you wanna tell him! I trust your judgement.” you end with a sweet, innocent smile. Me? Scheming? Noooo.

The warning bell rings, causing the boys to shoot up in a panic. They struggle to gather their things, bumping into each other and fumbling around with their trays as they both promise you that your note would be delivered safely and discreetly.

You give them your best smile and thank them before turning on your heel to get to class. Alright Munson, see you at 4:30.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You look at your watch, the green blinking digits read “4:32″. What if they didn’t give him the note? You make yourself sick with worry, its a favorite pass time of yours. What if he thought I meant a different part of the woods? Wait, did I specify the picnic table? You pick at some of the splinters jutting out of the decrepit tabletop. I think all I wrote was ‘the woods’, fuck. What if he’s now lost out in the woods because of me!? Shit shit shit this was such a stupid plan. I’m so over my head how could I be such a dumb bitc-

“Hey...” comes a familiar voice from behind you. You flinch and a small gasp escapes your lips as you turn to face him.

Eddie holds his hands up as if he’s calming a wild horse and chuckles “Ha woah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you” the corners of his lips are turned up into a shit eating grin. It’s still annoyingly charming, even if it is at your expense.

You watch as he comes around to sit on the opposite side of you. He rests his black tin lunchbox on the table as he shimmies off his layers of jackets. You spot a few tattoos you had never noticed before and your stomach threatens to drop to your knees. Is it too late to ditch and run? You realize you’re gawking, so you avert your eyes to the table as he continues to make himself comfortable.

He can’t help but notice just how tense you are, or how you hadn’t said a word yet. He remembered you way back from middle school, you had even had a couple classes together here and there. You were never really friends, but he always remembered how sweet you were, even to a social pariah like himself. He takes a stab at what’s eating you.

“There’s uh...nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here.” he tosses his jackets onto the table as he sits on the rickety bench. “We’re safe. I promise.” he adds for good measure.

His words make you want to melt into this seat, become a permanent fixture. You smile and tuck a few strays behind your ears "Yeah I uh...I know...thanks” you’re still looking down at your lap. He nods, relived to have gotten something out of you, and pops open the lid of his box.

Assuming you were here for drugs, he begins his pitch. He grabs a clear plastic bag “I’ll do you a half ounce for, uh...$20. What do you say?” he holds the baggie out to you for you to inspect. “Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last you a while.”

As much as you’d love for this to be just a simple drug deal, you realize you’re gonna have to break it to him sooner than later. “Eddie,” you hold your head up to look him in the eye. He freezes, the baggie gently swaying back and forth in his grip. “I uh, didn’t ask you here to buy drugs...” Although maybe I should in case this goes south and I need to forget it ever happened.

Now caught completely off guard, the boy shifts his weight on the seat as he slowly drops the baggie back into the box. “Okayyy...then why, pray tell, did you leave me such a cryptic note?” a playful smile warms his face as he raises his eyebrows at you. He rests his head in both hands as if utterly fascinated.

Seeing a perfect opportunity to stall, you take it without looking back. “It was pretty cryptic wasn’t it?” you chuckle as you bring your elbows up to rest on the table, mirroring Eddie’s posture.

“I thought I was gonna get jumped!” Eddie exclaims causing you both to laugh at your predicament. Shit, I knew it.

“Well what was I supposed to write!?” you try to defend yourself.

“Literally anything else!” Eddie’s eyes are practically twinkling as he continues to playfully chastise you “better yet, you could’ve just, oh i don’t know, asked me in person like a regular human being??? And WHY all the anonymous shit??”

You’re laughing out of utter humiliation “I don’t know, okay? I wasn’t thinking, I was on auto pilot! It seemed like the thing to do! Were you at least surprised when you saw me?” you don’t quite know how you want him to answer this.

“Huh? Oh, nah those twerps ratted you out within seconds” Eddie huffs as he tries to stifle his laughter.

“WHAT!?” your mouth drops to the forest floor. “Those little fuckers, they swore on Dustin’s mother they wouldn’t tell!” you cross your arms and pout in protest of this vile betrayal.

“Sweetheart, you don’t trust freshmen with anything, m’kay? That was your first mistake. I mean you should see them try to recruit for Hellfire, its pathetic...frankly” he snickers.

You scoff and look up to the blue sky, still unable to believe you had been sold out. Eddie admires you while you’re not looking. Whats a pretty girl like her doing out here with a guy like me? he wonders. He brings his hands together in a fist on the table and taps the back of his rings along the gnarled wood.

“So, you gonna answer my question?” he drops his chin and looks up at you through his lashes, a smug expression on his face.

You come back down to earth to see Eddie looking at you expectantly. You narrow your eyes and playfully tap your finger on your chin a few times “Hmmm which waaaas...?” Please can we just keep harmlessly flirting a little longer before I ruin this?

“Don’t play dumb with me” his tone a little more serious this time. “Why am I here, Y/N?”

Oh. You’re not sure how he made your name sound like some heavenly prayer, but you’d do anything to hear him say it again. Stop. Focus. You take a deep breath in. Just do it, rip the band aid off.

“So uh...I um...I’ve never- at least not yet I mean... I’m still uhhh....” Holy shit, maybe I should've rehearsed this before.

Eddie can tell whatever this is must be a big deal to you. Although you were quite cute all flustered, he didn’t want to make this any more difficult. He dips his head down to catch your eye “Hey, its okay. Take your time. No rush, I promise.”

You close your eyes and exhale a few counts before looking back up at Eddie. His doe eyes full of concern and patience. Fuck, man. You groan before letting it spill out.

“Okay, look. I’m still a virgin. In fact, I haven’t really even had a proper first kiss yet. I mean Jason kinda kissed me at a party once but he was drunk and he missed my lips entirely, and I didn’t even WANT to kiss him, he just kinda threw himself on me, and WOW I’m just now realizing how kinda fucked that was but anyway yeah I just don’t think that should count, right? And we’re supposed to be graduating in a couple months and I don’t want to get to college and not know what the fuck I’m doing!”

You had expected his eyes to be bulging out of his head like a cartoon character, but he just looked...normal. Like you had just finished telling him something as mundane as how your day was. His eyebrows were slightly raised, but it was the only indication that he was even listening. You bite down on your lip waiting for him to say something, anything.

Eddie clears his throat “So, let me get this straight.” he leans further in “You want... me... to... deflower you?” His eyes narrow at the question, but his tone was more disbelieving than judgemental.

“Well....yeah, yes. I do.” you nod absentmindedly as words just continue to topple from your lips “And you can TOTALLY say no, I know this must be like the weirdest thing anyone has ever asked you and I totally get it if you don’t want to.” you take another breath to slow yourself “Its just... I want my first time to be...gentle...”

Eddie can’t help the blush that spreads across his cheeks like wildfire, the red glow even reaching the tips of his ears. “And... you think that I can be gentle?” his stare softens as his brain tosses this idea around.

You smile thoughtfully and chuckle “I think you’re a big softy who likes to play ‘big bad wolf”. Eddie’s eyebrows disappear under his mess of bangs as he chuckles, the observation hitting closer to home than you would ever know. While you have him smiling, you take the opportunity to play your final hand.

“It also doesn’t hurt that I’ve uh...liked you since middle school” your eyes are glued to the table. You don’t even dare to blink. Well its all out there now, no going back.

Eddie’s heart threatens to rip through his chest. You had always been on his radar, he just figured he could never be on yours. Your confession momentarily stuns him before his smile turns devilish. He wants to milk this moment for all its worth. Of course, without giving away the fact that he’d drop down on his knees for you at any given moment.

“You could’ve asked me on a date, y’know.” he teases you.

You huff as you meet his eyes “You’re right...I could’ve. I should’ve” you correct yourself. Something as simple as a date never occurred to you, but then again Eddie Munson wasn’t simple.

A comfortable silence falls as you take a moment to look each other in the eyes, swapping dreamy smiles back and forth. Eddie shifts his gaze down. Your lower lip was practically war torn from all the biting you had inflicted upon it. He’d like to leave a few marks of his own, and it looks like he might finally get the chance to.

“So!” Eddie claps his hands down on the table with a loud THUNK, his smile growing wide with mischief “When am I popping your cherry?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You couldn’t believe Friday was already here, not to mention that you were riding shotgun in Eddie’s rust bucket he called a van. It had been fairly simple deciding the where and the when given that Eddie’s uncle worked nights and you could tell your mom you were sleeping over at a friend’s house (not technically a lie, just maybe not the whole truth).

You pull up to his trailer and Eddie quickly gets out of the car and jogs up the steps to open the front door for you. He bows his head and gestures for you to enter “Welcome to my castle” he says sarcastically.

It was hard not to notice the millions of trucker hats decorating the walls inside. You quickly deduce that these must belong to his uncle, although you’d love to imagine Eddie wearing any one of them. As you slowly spin around the parlor to take it all in, Eddie straightens up a bit as he passes a few stray beer cans and empty cigarette cartons. “Sorry, the maid’s on vacation” he jokes. You get the feeling he might be just as nervous as you are, but he’s doing a better job of hiding it.

As Eddie tosses the last can into the trash he looks up to see you quietly admiring his home. Your smile is soft as you take in every detail. You look enchanted just to be here, which made Eddie feel a lot better. He quietly walks over to you, not wanting to disturb your wonderment, and he gently takes your hand. You’re still looking around as he says “You wanna see the rest of it?”

His voice brings you back to reality. You look down to see his large hand enveloping yours. “Hm?” you softly hum, not tearing your eyes away from the skin to skin contact. You feel your palm begin to burn as he lightly squeezes it. “Come on, I’ll show you” his voice is like warm honey, you’d follow him wherever he decided to take you.

He pulls you towards the hallway, pointing out his uncle’s room on the left and the bathroom on the right, before reaching the desired destination. “And this is uh... my room” he stops in the doorway, letting your hand go so you can explore on your own as he watches.

Its messy, but its exactly what you had pictured. Band posters litter the walls, clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor and his dresser. There’s an ash tray filled to the brim with cigarette butts. He has a couple of guitars dangerously balanced against the walls, but there’s one very unique guitar on display hanging over his mirror. You cross the room to inspect it further, you had never seen anything like it and it must have cost him a fortune. You raise your hand to touch it, but you catch Eddie’s eye in the mirror. He has a sly smile “That’s my baby” his voice is full of pride.

You smile back at his reflection “Can I...?” slowly moving your fingers closer to the gorgeous instrument.

“Go ahead. She’s meant to be touched” his gaze turning darker.

You duck your head and smile bashfully, knowing full well he can see you blush in the mirror. You stroke your fingers up the long neck and glide over the strings, teasing a ghostly hum from the guitar. As you continue to strum, your eyes wander to the wall where something shiny is dangling from a hook. It takes you longer that it should to recognize them as handcuffs. Your lips part, your eyelids becoming heavy. You feel a tickle between your legs. Oh.

Eddie notices you’ve frozen, no longer interested in the guitar. He follows your gaze to the item stealing all of your attention. “Ha!” he walks over and takes them off the hook, not wanting to scare you. Your eyes don’t leave the shiny metal, looking even more appealing in Eddie’s hands. He notices your fascination with them, and the fact that you’re not running away screaming makes him want to marry you on the spot. He sees the hazy, far off look in your eyes and recognizes it right off the bat. His lips curve into a delinquent smile “Not tonight, sweetheart” and he tosses them into the abyss of a drawer

“But-” you try to object, convince him you need a demonstration and you’d happily volunteer, but before you can get another word out Eddie holds a hand up in protest. “Sorry, honey” he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently tilts your head up to look at him. “I thought you wanted gentle, hm?” his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear.

His closeness, the words, his touch... it should be illegal. “I- I uh I did- I do! I do want gentle...I- I want...you...” you stutter out, making Eddie’s smile grow wider and more smug. He loves how flustered he makes you... but he loves teasing you even more.

He suddenly releases you and takes a step back “Great! What kinda pizza you like?” he asks, stepping backwards towards the door.

You’re a bit dazed “I uh..what?”

“Pizza! I mean, I’d cook for you, but you might end up dying a virgin so...” he chuckles.

You giggle, not realizing being wined and dined was a part of the deal. “Um, would you think I’m weird if I asked for ham and pineapple?” you narrow your eyes, bracing yourself for imminent mockery.

“See? I knew you were a freak, Y/L/N” he throws a brilliant smile your way. “One ham and pineapple coming up!”

�� - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You laid together on his bed, the discarded pizza box somewhere on the floor below. He had rented Plan 9 from Outer Space, and the two of you had nearly choked to death laughing at the B-Movie cheesiness. Any jitters you had about this night were long gone, it was hard to feel nervous being tucked up in Eddie’s arms. Over the course of the movie, you had somehow become one conjoined life form. Your legs were tangled together, your head nestled on his shoulder as he rested his chin on your hair. You were like two perfect puzzle pieces. The sun had set a while ago, and the dark only made you feel more cozy.

But at some point, it became harder to focus on the movie. You had become hyper aware of how close his hand was to your ass, and how if you moved your knee juuuust a little you’d be grazing his dick. You felt the room getting hotter, and you thought he might be feeling it too as he started to squirm a little under you. With a sudden burst of bravery, or maybe just desperation, you slowly begin to arch your back. Your steady movement causes Eddie’s hand to ever so slightly slip closer to your backside. Before it can reach its desired destination, however, he digs his fingers in your flesh, stopping you in your tracks. He takes your chin in his other hand and forces you to look up at him. “What are you up to, hm?” he asks with a smug smile.

You screw your eyes shut and wrinkle your nose, embarrassed at being caught. “Hey...look at me” his voice is so gentle you could hardly bare it. You take the bait and look up. You weren’t expecting his gaze to be filled with such concern or to be so penetrating. It was like he was searching for something deep inside your soul. He moves his hand from your chin to gently cradle your jaw. His fingertips tease the sensitive place behind your ear, his thumb rests on your cheek. “You still sure about this, sweetheart?”

You have to swallow before you answer “Yeah...I’m sure”. It came out barely above a whisper. You’d never been more sure of anything in your whole entire life, the thought of it actually happening with him was beyond electrifying. The tickle between your legs returns, this time with more urgency.

He considers your answer for a second before continuing “Cause we can stop whenever you want, okay? You just say the word and I’ll take you home, no questions asked.” his voice is serious, and his worry only makes you want him more.You always knew he was the one, the only one.

His eyes begin jetting back and forth between yours, his calm demeanor slipping away, something more desperate taking its place. You can feel his grip around your waist tightening, bringing you closer to his warm body. He’s right on the edge with you, but he won’t make one move until he’s certain this is what you really want. He swore he would do this right, and goddammit if Eddie Munson was not a man of his word.

Seeing him worked up is the last straw, you’ve been good for as long as you could bare. “Eddie...” a pleading whimper escapes your lips and it was more than enough to break him. Before you knew it, Eddie’s lips were on yours.

His kiss was all consuming, it wrapped you up and tucked you in tenderly like a cozy blanket on a cold winter’s night. With his hand still holding your jaw, he ever so slightly parted his lips to deepen the kiss. The feeling of his hot breath brushing against your lips made you dizzy. He barley grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, causing the fire burning in the pit of your belly to flash white hot.

Eddie had to constantly remind himself to keep it slow, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of his hard cock straining against his jeans. Gentle, Munson...keep it gentle. He nearly cries when you slip your tongue into his mouth. If only you knew how much he wanted to devour you, heart and soul, until there was nothing left. If only you knew how many times he watched you laughing with your friends, jealous that they were getting all of your attention. How your voice was sweeter than any song, how all you had to do was say his name and he was yours. You could have asked him for anything in those fucking woods and he would’ve given it to you. He’d do anything to keep you here in his arms forever.

He rolls over so that he’s slightly above you, not wanting to crush or smother you, but he just couldn’t get enough. The movie is still playing in the background, thankfully drowning out your needy moans, until Eddie mindlessly rolls his hips down into yours. You could feel the rough fabric of his jeans and his rock hard erection through the thin fabric of your skirt, pressing against you in just the right spot. You don’t even realize you’re loudly moaning his name until you hear him snicker “You can be loud if you want. No one’s gonna hear, we’re safe. I promise.” he whispers into your ear, stealing a few kisses there. He rolls his hips again, wanting more than anything to hear you moan his name again.

He brought his hand down from your jaw to rove over the rest of your body. He lets it rest over your neck for a second and gives it a delicate squeeze. Its not enough to choke you, but the pressure makes his tongue in your mouth feel all the more vital. Like a lifeline. Its a gentle reminder of who you belong to in this moment, who’s in charge. For a fleeting second you wish he hadn’t been so quick to ditch the handcuffs.

He traces your collarbones, down to the underwire of your bra, tickles your ribs, and finally arrives at your skirt. His fingers halt, just tucked under the waistband. Liking the direction this was going, you rest up on your elbows and begin to peel your shirt off. Eddie gives you the space you need, and watches in awe as more of your supple flesh is revealed. He admires every detail, down to the smallest freckle, making an internal map so he’d never forget.

You toss your shirt somewhere into the oblivion of his room, not really caring whether its lost forever or not. You look at Eddie hesitantly, the rush of cold air reminding you that you were only a bra away from total vulnerability. You bring your hands up to cover your belly, starting to feel a little self conscious, but then you see the look of absolute worship in Eddie’s eyes. Like he was standing before an altar, you were his temple. Eddie realizes he’s been staring without speaking for a while now and he looks you in the eye “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/N” he says a little out of breath. You smile with absolute giddiness, quickly moving your hands from your stomach to bring him back into a deep kiss. While you embrace, Eddie frantically starts pulling at his own shirt and you assist him in taking it off.

The feeling of his warm chest against yours sends you into a nose dive of indescribable sensation. You wanted to feel his skin everywhere, scratch your fingernails down his spine, play with the soft tufts of curly brown hair on his tummy. Deciding you needed more contact, you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra. Eddie keeps his eyes shut tight, mouth fixed to yours. He’s abundantly aware that you’re now completely naked from the waist up, and he just knows that if he looks at you for one second he’ll lose all control, the very little he had left. Instead, he blindly brings his hands up to your tits and rubs over your hard nipples. It only makes you moan more, practically driving Eddie to the brink of madness until he can’t wait any longer. He has to know what you feel like on the inside.

Eddie breaks away from your embrace and props himself up on his side to look down over you. He returns his hand down to the waistband of your skirt and tugs, raising an eyebrow at you for permission to remove the obstacle. You nod and smile, your heart starting to beat like the wings of a hummingbird. He wiggles the skirt down your legs and gingerly tosses it to the side. He places his hand over your underwear, his fingertips aligned perfectly over your slit. He rubs upwards, feeling how wet you are through the fabric. You jump a little as bolt of lightning shoots through your core. It makes his heart sing to feel how ready your are for him. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart” his voice crackles like firewood as he continues to rub you through the fabric. He watches your every move as he tends to you, utterly consumed by how beautiful you are.

With every touch, it sends a shock wave of pleasure through your entire body. Electricity building in your fingers and toes. And just when you think it couldn’t get much better than this, Eddie slips your underwear off and slowly slides in just the tip of his middle finger. You sigh as he enters, pure ecstasy rolling over you. He smiles down at you “Thats my girl, how does that feel?” he asks as he gently slides his finger in and out of you, never completely taking it out.

You’re drunk off of his touch, and you really have to concentrate in order to forms words “fuuucckk....Eddie...amaaazing.” He chuckles softly at how completely out of it you are. “You want it deeper?” he brushes a few strands of hair from your face as you rest your head against his arm. All you can do is desperately nod, if you open your mouth you might start drooling.

Eddie slides his finger in deeper, just to his knuckle. You feel a little pinch, but nothing too bad. He turns his hand over while inside of you so he can play with your clit with his thumb. “yes yes yes...” you whimper. The sensation soothing any tiny discomfort you had felt.

He only speeds up when he feels your slick start to drip down his hand. “Fuck, Y/N. I’d love to watch you cum, sweetheart. Do you think you could cum for me?” he asks like you’re doing him a favor, and he plunges his entire finger, up to his ring, in your pussy, causing you to yelp and giggle. Your body felt like it was going to vibrate off the bed, and you could feel something tightening deep inside. You concentrate on the feeling, like a volcano about to erupt. “E-Eddie” your voice is shaky “I..I th-think...I’m g-gonna....” you hold onto his arm for dear life as you ride your high. You moan and cuss loudly as Eddie continues to finger fuck you through your aftershocks, gradually slowing his pace until you’re panting below him.

He slowly slides out of you and immediately licks your slick off of his finger. You watch in awe as he closes his eyes and revels in your taste. “Mmmh...cherry pie...my favorite” Eddie teases you with an ear to ear smile. You smack his chest and giggle before curiosity gets the better of you “C-can I try?”. Eddie’s eyes beam at you with a kind of pride that you couldn't fathom. He dips his finger back into your slick and brings it back up to glide along your bottom lip “Knock yourself out”.

You take his finger into your mouth and suck. A mixture of sweet and salty coats your tongue, and you’re amazed at the fact that you actually taste good. With your tongue lapping at Eddie’s finger, he gets another brilliant idea. He removes his finger from your mouth and quickly pops into into his, sucking the rest of your slick and saliva off, before getting up and kneeling at the foot of the bed. “Hey, where are you-” you try to protest, but he’s already got you hooked by your knees and pulling you down to meet him. His face between your legs quickly shuts you the fuck up, awaiting whatever command he deems you worthy of. He sees your eyes going wide in anticipation, and he smirks before furrowing his brow. “Has anyone ever kissed you here before?” he already knows the answer, but he wanted to hear you say that you were all his. He watches you as he nips at your inner thighs, waiting for your reply.

You’ve gone dumb, not a single thought in your head. He has you completely transfixed. “I-uh..n-no...never” is all you manage to spit out. Your innocence makes his cock throb, but he has to wait, he has to show you how good he can really make you feel first. “See, that’s a real shame.” he inches his mouth closer to your pussy, lazily dragging a finger around your entrance, playing in your slick. You squirm under his touch, desperately searching for friction, a release, anything. His smirk turns absolutely devilish “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, princess”.

He hoists your knees up and over his shoulders. Looking up at you through his bangs, he slowly dips his tongue into your slit and flicks up. This alone nearly gives you a heart attack, and he holds you steady as your body shutters. Eddie tongue fucks you until you can’t see straight anymore. You’re a moaning mess, all you can do is tangle your fingers in Eddie’s hair and hang on tight. He licks a steady stripe up, enveloping your clit with his mouth. His tongue twirls, flicks and practically pirouettes around your sensitive bud. And just to kick you while you’re down, his fingers come back to play. This time, he easily slips two in and begins sliding in and out of you. Your body contorts like you’re in need of an exorcism, your noises telling Eddie to go faster and deeper. You feel yourself going higher, and higher, and higher until you reach the tippy top of your second orgasm, riding Eddie’s face all the way back down.

Eddie lets you rest for a moment, legs sprawled haphazardly across his bed. He stands up and crosses his arms against his chest, admiring the aftermath of his handy work. His smug smile returns, the entire lower half of his face glistening with your honey. “Right?” he says, all cocky. You chuckle, and try to kick him but your legs are too wobbly “Shut up” you say breathlessly.

He gets down on the bed and hovers over you on all fours. He growls from the back of his throat and nips at your neck while viciously tickling your ribs. You giggle and squeal, wrestling against him but not really wanting him to stop. You tousle around on the bed for a while before your play fight turns into making out. You didn’t realize how much you had missed his lips on yours, you felt starved. You grind your leg onto his thigh. He somehow still has his pants on, and you’re not sure how you could have made such a blaring oversight. You reach down to undo his belt buckle, letting him know that you were truly ready.

While you fumble with his belt, he reaches over to his bedside table and grabs a condom. He puts the corner in his mouth, his hands a little too shaky to handle it, and rips it open between his teeth. You shimmy his jeans off, his erection creating a tent in his boxers. You look up at him to make sure he was okay, and he winks in return. You inhale and pull his boxers down, his cock finally springing free. You’re a bit mesmerized at first. You had never seen one before, and you were shocked by just how...big...he was. You panic a little, wondering how he was ever going to fit inside you. You mindlessly cup your hand around his length, his skin is soft and turning a mean shade of pink. He gasps at your touch and closes his eyes, melting into your palm. You rub your thumb over a long, thick vein on the side of his dick, not realizing you were unraveling the poor boy in your hands. You notice the precum leaking from his head. You steal a glance up at Eddie and see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out. You smile, having a devilish thought of your own. Starting where the head meets the shaft, you lick a quick line up the tip of his dick and flick the precum into your mouth. Eddie jolts, eyes snapping open, and quickly rolls over to imprison you underneath him “You trying to kill me, Y/L/N?” he punishes you with smothering kisses, making you giggle uncontrollably.

He sits up and rests on his knees so he can roll the condom on. You watch in wonder as you adjust your body so you can be ready for him. Last minute nerves make your tummy flutter, but you know you’re in the best of hands. He comes back down and places his hands on the mattress on either side of your head. He lowers down for one more kiss. “This may hurt a little, sweetheart.” he whispers in your ear before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. He looks you in your eyes before continuing “Remember, we can stop whenever you want. Okay?” You nod adoringly and whisper “Okay”. He gives you another earth shattering smile “That’s my girl.” he brings his forehead down to meet yours and you gaze into each other’s eyes, smiling like fools, absolutely head over heels. You wrap your legs around his waist, and brace yourself for whatever comes next.

Eddie aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes in, you can feel your walls stretching to accommodate him. He stops at just the tip, and you both moan. He slowly rolls his hips, slipping the tip of his cock in and out so you can get used to the sensation. You feel a slight pressure when he slides in, but its dull and far off, and the kisses he peppers you with are a nice distraction.

He pumps into you a little longer before sliding further in. This time you do feel a nagging pain, causing you to sharply inhale. You dig your fingernails into his back, and he slows his movements even more. “I know baby, I know.” he soothes you and you find the pain quickly gives way to pleasure. You moan into his hair “Mmhm Eddie...you’re so big...” the words tumble from your mouth without a thought behind them, just pure ecstasy. Eddie groans and he fights the urge to fuck you dumb through this damn mattress. “Keep talkin’ like that princess and I might forget to be gentle” he warns as he nips at your neck.

He slides deeper until he reaches his hilt, stretching and filling you to the brim. You curse under your breath at the pain, screwing your eyes shut so no tears can escape. He cradles your head “Hey look at me, you okay?” you open up and he’s staring down at you with those doe eyes, brows furrowed in concern. “I’m fine, it just hurts a little. Please don’t stop” you reach up and cup his red cheek, assuring him that you can take it. He gently and slowly continues to glide into you. Worried he may not be able to slide back in, he never fully pulls out of you, creating a pocket of delicious sensation deep inside. Your walls eventually relax around him, allowing him to pick up his pace.

It was a cacophony of feeling, a delicious blend of searing pain and ultimate euphoria. The hurt felt so good, you loved being filled for the first time. You kiss Eddie everywhere you can reach him, his chin, his shoulder, his collarbone, just to show how thankful you were. He smiles in complete adoration for you, noticing just how ethereal you look underneath him. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Y/N” he kisses you hard on the lips, practically smashing your faces together. His steady motion begins to sputter a little, he must be getting close. “...and you’re so...fucking....tight....” he pounds a little harder with each word, causing you to cry out. He cradles the back of your head and soothes you. “Sorry...sorry..I just ...wanna try...*grunts* one more thing. Okay?” he kisses your neck, his hot breath causing you to shiver and your pussy to tighten around his cock. Although you’re not sure what else there could be, you nod with every fiber of your being. “Yes...fuck ...I-I’ll do...anything...f-for you” you whimper. He groans and rolls his head back, trying to forget you said that before he busts this second.

He stops rocking into you only for a minute so he can gently pull you up into a sitting position in his lap, his hand still cradling your head, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Come here, sweet thing” he swipes a few strands from your face once you’re up. The blood rushing to your head mixed with this new angle is something else. You feel entirely open, the tip of his dick just grazing something galvanic inside of you. You smile warmly and stare deep into each other’s eyes for a moment, completely elated by each other’s company. He pulls you into a bear hug, your breasts squeeze against his chest, as he fucks up into you. You go limp, whatever it was inside you that he was hitting over and over was causing your brain to melt. You roll your head back and just let him take you.

Even when Eddie is fighting every urge to cum himself, he’s still only thinking of your pleasure. In your lulled state, he reaches down in between you and starts rubbing your clit, alternating between circles and side to side. He figures if he can get you to cum one more time, he can die a very happy man. The sensation brings you out of your nearly catatonic state, and you tighten your thighs around his waist like a boa constrictor. You start to bounce back on his cock, feeling that oh so familiar feeling starting to build in the center of your soul. Eddie groans, the veins in his neck popping out. “Y/N...fuck...you’re gonna...make me cum, sweetheart” he growls out, unable to contain himself any longer. His body stutters as he reaches his peak, his arms locked around your fragile body in a vice grip, and he spills himself into the condom. Dazed from his own heavenly release, he still doesn’t forget about you for one second. His fingers shift into overdrive, pummeling your clit until your crying his name out for the whole trailer park to hear. The look of sheer joy is plastered to his face, and you both collapse into each other, exhausted.

You sit in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. His dick is still inside of you, and you don’t dare move a muscle, never wanting him to leave. He plants soft kisses in your hair and runs his fingers down your spine. It takes you a minute to realize the movie is still playing. “Could we rewind? I think I missed a bit” you joke.

He chuckles “I’d have to get up to rewind it” he reminds you, tucking his finger under your chin to lift your head up. He brings his forehead down to meet yours, his eyes sparkling in the darkness. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” you plead. He smirks and kisses your cheek “We can do whatever you want, princess.”

You stay there wrapped in each other’s arms for a little longer before Eddie slowly slides out of you and places you back down on the mattress. There’s a tiny bit of blood mixed with your slick dripping from your pussy, and Eddie grabs a clean shirt from his closet and cleans you up delicately as if he was handling a rare gem. He throws the condom away and pulls on a pair of boxers and a faded Metallica shirt. He hums as he goes about his little tasks, giving you a sense of comforting domesticity. He miraculously finds your underwear on the floor, but has no luck finding any of your other clothes. He grabs another one of his shirts and tosses it over to you. You hold the garment up and notice its his Hellfire club shirt, a wave of pure glee washes over you. You pull it over your head, his familiar scent wrapping around your body. Eddie fidgets with the tv controls, rewinding to around the time y’all got...distracted, before turning around and plopping back onto the bed to cuddle up next you. He looks you up and down, “Looks better on you” he beams as he brings you back into his arms, assuming the same positions you were in earlier in the evening.

In no time you’re both in stitches again over the movie, and you spend the rest of the night laughing, talking, and kissing all while entangled in each other’s arms. Just before you both doze off, Eddie whispers “So, did you have fun? I mean...was I gentle?”

You cup his face and kiss his forehead “So gentle” you chuckle before giving him a sincere answer, “it was more than I could ever dream of, Eddie. It was perfect” Eddie smirks through the darkness and pulls you into a vice grip to tickle you. You squeal and squirm and giggle in pure delight. You settle back down and he turns around you so he can spoon you “Good, cause next time...I might not be so gentle” he whispers devilishly in your ear.

You perk up, remembering some paraphernalia from earlier. “Can we use the handcuffs?” you ask in excitement. Eddie chuckles, finding your eagerness adorable. Fuck, this girl is gonna be the death of me. “Anything you want, princess” he kisses you behind your ear and you both drift off into blissful slumbers.

___________________________________________

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I was really inspired by the song Touch Tank by Quinnie, I keep seeing so many amazing edits of Eddie/Joseph with that song! I also borrowed some of his dialogue from his scene with Chrissy in the woods to make it more convincing, hope you don’t mind. I started on this before Vol 2 came out and then it felt weird to keep going but I pushed through. I’m 100% in my denial era and this is for all the girlies who are in the same boat! <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x virgin!reader #eddie munson x virgin!reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things no spoilers #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie musnon fic

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rae-writes · 3 months

Text

like royalty

om boys x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : none, just lovesick boys and their lovesick mc (and cute little Luke and his cute little mc)

synopsis : instances in which you treated them so good they felt like pampered royalty

a/n : the 10k special is hereeee! tysm, once again! <33

Leaning down, resting your knees on the dirty ground, just so you could tie his shoe for him

His steel composure allows Lucifer to remain rather unbothered, but you know better. You hear the way his breath hitches, his eyes widening just a fraction at seeing you so casually drop to your knees. He's at loss for words as he watches your fingers swiftly grab his shoelaces and begin tying them back into a neat bow. Lucifer doesn’t even try to hide the faint blush coating his skin when you stand back up- instead, he takes a moment to just bask in the pride he can feel building inside of you before he chuckles and shakes his head fondly.

“My, Mc…I do appreciate the bold gesture, but now you’ve got your knees all dirty..how shall I repay you, hm?”

†

Unlike the firstborn, Diavolo, while he does have steel composure, forgets the definition of it as soon as you’re telling him to wait a second before crouching down beside him. He’s used to being tailored to, of course, but there’s just something about seeing your knees scrubbing the dirt and your tongue poking out as you concentrate on tying his shoe that makes him melt. Once you’re finished, he’ll lift you off the ground himself and brush off your knees, blush as dark as his hair while he laughs loudly.

“You’re always so full of surprises! That did affect me quite badly, I must say…though allow me to do the same for you next time.”

†

The sound (see: squawk) that escapes Mephisto is completely undignified. He’s absolutely embarrassed, especially at the tingling sensation he feels on his hand where you’d lightly smacked it when he went to tie his shoe himself before dropping to your knees to do it instead. The gravel beneath you crunches as you shift to get up, making his hand dart to help and pull you close to him; he’s regained his composure now, but his words are still low and flustered, even as he gives you a smirk.

“Well, aren't you just sweet. Nobody’s ever gone through such lengths to simply tie my shoe, but you’ll be compensated, don’t worry. Come here, Mc…”

†

Stone faced as ever, Raphael just stares down at you with an almost confused look. He goes to say something about your clothes getting dirty on the floor everyone’s been walking on, but his words die in his throat when you peer up at him with a lovesick smile. Almost in a trance, he watches you carefully loop his shoelaces and tie them tautly before standing back up; only when his hand subconsciously finds the curve of your waist does he snap back to reality and give you a small smile of his own (he prays you’ll ignore the blush spreading across his cheeks…you do. For now).

“A-ah, Mc-! I…please, allow me to wipe your knees off, they’ve gotten dirty from the flooring…you really didn’t have to, you know, I can tie my own shoe…thank you..”

Grabbing his hand with a featherlight touch and bringing it up to your face so you could place a soft, slow kiss to his knuckles

Mammon’s base reaction is to jolt and scold you for teasing him, but his eyes dart to how your pupils are practically in the shape of hearts as you press your lips against his skin, and suddenly the loud mouthed second born is going quiet. The tiniest of gasps escape him as you begin to pull away, hand instinctively curling around yours and bringing it to rest over his thumping heart to keep you that much closer; the lovesick chuckle he gives you makes you melt.

“What’re ya— o-oh…Mc…d’ya even know what you're doin’ to me, actin’ like that? Where are ya goin’? C’mere…come closer..want another kiss- how about on the lips this time, yeah?”

†

Satan melts right through your fingers, eyes lidding and dumb little smile crossing his face. He is a sucker for this stuff and the murmur of your name is so breathless and adoration-filled. He’ll quietly demand another kiss, carefully watching your lips press against his skin before he’s flipping your hands around and kissing the back of yours instead. He relishes in the blush on your face but quickly turns a bashful shade of pink when you comment on how pretty that lovesick expression of his was.

“Mc…give me another one..yeah. You make my heart race, you know that? And you’re so pretty when you look at me like that..fuck. W-what—? My expression…I..I can’t help it…‘s all your fault.”

†

The squeal that escapes Asmo nearly leaves you deaf, but he just looks so charming with his giddy grin and sparkling eyes that you decide to overlook it (like always). He’s absolutely delighted at the action and begs you to do it again so he can take a picture for devilgram, but once the surprise is over, he just looks at you so softly. The pure adoration and love he sees in your eyes makes him feel like he’s floating and Azzy will be sure to shower you with kisses all over until you’re feeling the exact same.

“OHH MY! How sweet of you, hon! Let me take a picture, do it again, do it again! You’re just so full of surprises, darling, I love it! I love you. I love you so much, you know? You make my heart race~!”

†

Barbatos’ brain doesn’t catch up right away. He finishes greeting you and gets halfway through listing off the tea party spread before he actually processes the action— and that your hand is still holding his, rubbing your thumb over where you’d kissed. He stops right in the middle of the corridor and stares at you blankly, hot blush slowly rising onto his cheeks. The smile that crosses his face is completely for your eyes only (lovesick and bashful) and he’ll give you his amused chuckle before kissing your knuckles in return, bowing as he does so.

“—I have also prepared a selection of-!!…you..you are very sly, Mc…I can’t say I mind it though. I do hope you’ll keep the way you affect me just between us, however…can’t have anyone else seeing, hm? Shall I return the favor?”

†

You and Solomon teased each other back and forth quite often but this he wasn’t expecting. And he couldn’t just play it off- not with so much infatuation plastered over your face as you keep placing kisses along his hand. He averts his eyes shyly, darting back and forth as he tries to form words, but…you just got him so good with that gesture, he’s absolutely tongue tied as he peers at you with his blushy face, voice actually cracking as he asks what that was for.

“I—!…I, u-uh…Mc…what- what was that for…? You drive me absolutely crazy…can you do it again..please..?”

Sliding your jacket off and wrapping it around his shoulders- even though it might not fit correctly- just because they were cold

Levi’s face is a blistering beacon of cherry and he takes a brief moment to malfunction before shakily gripping at the fabric around his shoulders, looking up at you with wide eyes. It’s something he’s seen straight from an anime, something he’s always wanted to experience, but now that he actually has, his soul is leaving his body because your cute little smile is just too…cute! He won’t give the jacket back, though, instead choosing to bury himself deeper in the material with a stuttered ‘thank you’.

“H-h-huh?! O-oh, Mc…you..T-t-thank y-you!! ‘S really soft…’n s-smells like you..ah-! I-I mean-! Don’t listen to me, I’m j-just rambling! Thank you again!”

†

More than likely too big for your jacket, Beel is confused at first and will ask what you’re doing and tilt his head cutely. Though, when you simply say ‘you were cold’, he turns all smiley and blushy and even lets out a little giggle. That sweet little closed eye smile of his is beaming as he thanks you and insists you pile up in his arms to share the warmth, because aren’t you going to get cold too? Being wrapped up in your scent and being able to wrap you up in his sounded like a perfect deal to him.

“Hm? Oh, Mc…what’re you doing?…oh. Eheh…thank you! Won’t you be cold, though? Here, come closer, we’ll keep each other warm. Yeah…yeah I like having you close. I like you— I love you!”

†

Belphie’s half asleep mind doesn’t really register it until he wakes up a few hours later. His lidded eyes land on the sight of your jacket, brain slowly registering before a sleepy- giddy- smile crosses his face. He’ll drag his sluggish body to wherever you are and drop his weight onto you, mumbling his gratitude and how lucky he is to have you without the fully-conscious filter being there. He’ll hold that jacket hostage until it has to be washed— it just made him feel so loved, he didn’t want to let it go.

“Mmm…mh? Mc…? -yawn- Mc? Mm..thank you..you’re so good to me…love you s’much..come sleep with me now…wanna feel your warmth too. No- wanna keep the jacket..let me keep it..please?”

†

Simeon blinks, eyes a bit wide as he stares at you before a bubbly laugh escapes him while he rubs the back of his neck and thanks you. He was quite surprised at the action, but completely delighted, and finds himself grinning stupidly before he can help it. He feels so fuzzy and warm and just wants to giggle and kick his feet— but he won’t…not outwardly, anyway. That giddy smile stays, though, all for everyone to see as he parades around with your jacket over his shoulders.

“Oh, Mc, thank you! You really didn’t have to…but I appreciate it nonetheless- you’re so loving and kind, you never fail to make my day. I hope you’ll let me do something for you in return to show my appreciation?”

†

The first passing thought in Luke’s head is to deny he’s even cold, but when he sees that it’s you draping your jacket over him, he decides that yes, he is in fact freezing. And maybe he could just snuggle up to you as well… (Mc cuddles are the best!). He’ll happily exclaim to anyone that the jacket is yours and beam because he’s just so thrilled to be your friend and he’s just…so precious.

“Waaahh!! Thank you, Mc! Are you sure you’re not an Angel? Hehe! Look, guys! Mc gave me their jacket! Aren't they the best?!”

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harryspet · 4 months

Text

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm.

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them.

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth.

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana.

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?”

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him.

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face.

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you.

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .”

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you.

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.”

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow.

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared.

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been.

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?”

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.”

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind.

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill.

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping.

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.”

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible.

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ.

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it.

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body.

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor.

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words.

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack?

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him.

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear, standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.”

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way.

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made.

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes, but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going.

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked.

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more.

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered.

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples.

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again.

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly.

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying.

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together.

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile.

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded.

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it.

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own.

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes.

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her.

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic.

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head.

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock.

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away.

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle.

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.”

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #jj maybank #kiara carrera

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ghostie-luvs · 11 months

Text

Yandere! Rent-a-boyfriend!(Part 2) <3

part one!

300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!!

TW: stalking, kidnapping (not towards reader)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who managed to leave from his company of which he was rented of just to stay with you. He could never imagine trying to date someone else, that’d be cheating! He even managed to get you to agree to let him stay with you! My, he was so elated when you agreed.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who begged you to be his partner, for the both of you to be official, not just some past time for which you tried to get over your ex for, but really be together.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who smiled brightly when you agreed, going to wrap you up in his arms, hugging you tightly as he pressed kisses all over your face, muttering about how much he loved you, and that he’d never leave you. Especially now that you had let him stayed.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who learned more about you, and even your ex, since he’d always be there for you when you suddenly needed to let things out and more. He hates seeing you hurt and in pain. He even deleted all your pictures of your ex just to help you out! My, he’s so helpful, isn’t he such a good boyfriend? He absolutely hates your ex for hurting you, I mean, how could they? You’re an angel, and he’ll show you just what it means to be safe and loved.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who began to leave the house more often, since you were always busy and offered to run errands if you ever needed it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, one day, when you asked him to go shopping, decided he had enough time to well, visit someone. He had went shopping first, buying everything that you needed for meals that you two would cook together, which had become tradition now. He even bought a treat or two, just to show how much he really appreciated you, something sweet or salty, both really, just to please you if you didn’t like the other.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who pulled up his car to a certain person’s house, where did he get the information? Who knows! maybe every time he leaves for errands, he always has extra time to, well, follow someone. But he stepped into the house, finding his target, catching them by surprise as he immobilized the person, and him soon even knocking them out.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who discreetly was able to lay the person in his passenger seat, not one person knowing-or at least he hopes-as he gets in his car and drives. He drives to his own house, and as he arrives, he carries the unconscious person inside, even bringing them down to the basement as he ties them up to a chair.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who waits for the person to wake up, and only smiles as he duct tapes his mouth as to not make any sound. He leaves the person confused and desperate to get out, the sound of the basement door clicking shut and locked.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, days later, is cuddling with you on the couch, after he had begged for you to sit down at least and let him cuddle you of course, his head nuzzling into your neck, when you’re watching the news, and working on something important as the announcer on your screen suddenly talks about a missing person.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who pays no mind to the announcer, but raises his head as he hears you gasp, his brows furrowing and a frown resting on his lips as he looks to the screen and only feigned ignorance, looking at you, “isn’t that..your ex?”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who begins to comfort you as you only nod to his question, wrapping his arms around you as he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more. “It’s alright, love, you have me now, no need to worry about them.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who feels you tense up at his words, his words leaving an unsettling feeling in your stomach before he kisses you, making all your worries wash away. After all, how could he ever do anything wrong? He always makes you feel so loved and safe. Isn’t that right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You’re his, and he’s yours. That’s the way it should be. Now no one, can hurt you, darling.

A/N: A lot of you seemed to love him so I decided on a part two for him for my special (though I feel like this is short, m so sorry! :( ),, and thank you so much for 300 followers, it makes me so happy !! <3 But I do hope you all love this work (but it’s okay if you don’t,, any constructive criticism is welcomed) and know that he’s still a little silly guy just wanting your attention, kay , darling? (Aha) :) Neways,, reblogs are appreciated as usual and I love you all <3

more of my works :) Requests!!

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f1goat · 27 days

Text

more than friends ; lando norris + part ten

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine

“You’re insane,” Oscar tells his teammate when he sees you walking towards Lando and him. “Actually insane,” he mutters when he gets an even closer look on you. When you feel Oscar his eyes on you, you know for sure what he’s looking at. He looks at the same thing that everyone else is looking at when they see you. Lando his love bites. Why did he even leave them so out in the open? You tried to cover them up with make up, but it didn’t work. If you brought a turtle neck with you, you would have worn it for sure right now. But since you’re in another hot country, you only have summer clothes with low necklines. Which means that everyone can see the marks on your skin that Lando made two days earlier. You curse him for leaving them on this place, but you continue to walk closer to him.

“Insane?” Lando asks Oscar. He notices the way his teammate looks at you.

“Is this to show Pierre that she’s taken or something stupid like that?” Oscar continues to scold Lando. He didn’t even think about it like that, but now that he does… The hickeys might help with Pierre backing off a bit. “You can’t claim something you don’t own,” Oscar sighs, “just remember that before you do more stupid shit.”

Before Lando can say anything to Oscar, you’re already standing in front of them. He notices the way you try to cover the hickeys with you hair, but he stills sees the red love bites. Now that he thinks about it, let everyone see them - maybe then everyone will figure out that you belong to him.

“Hey baby,” Lando greets you.

“Don’t baby me, I’m mad at you,” you sigh, “I should have brought a turtleneck with me. Everyone is looking at me.”

“Sorry,” Lando jokes. He watches around you and notices the way people are watching at you. You’re right. Everyone is paying attention to you. He notices some press workers as well. Normally the track isn’t busy on Wednesdays, but today seems different. He hears cameras clicking. Are people taking pictures of you? He starts to stress a bit. Lando pulls you closer to himself and drapes his arm around your shoulder, using it to hide your hickeys a bit more.

“I might have a crewneck sweater laying here somewhere,” Lando tells you.

You nod at Lando. Together you walk inside the McLaren motorhome. You notice the way even some mechanics are watching you. You’re going to kill Lando. This is all his fault. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them, he takes your hand and pulls you with him the his drivers room. There you finally get his sweater. You’re quick to put it on. Happily you watch in the mirror, almost no love bite is still visible now. The sweater is way too hot, but you rather become sweaty then have people look at you for the whole day. You can only hope they’ll fade away quickly. In silence the two of you walk back to the track.

Together with Lando you’re strolling on the track. It’s relaxing to walk around with him like this. Lando is holding your hand. You like the peaceful silence between you two right now. It feels comfortable and relaxing. You realize that you don’t feel like this around other people. Lando has always been your safe place. It reminds you about how special things are between Lando and you, but it reminds you most about how you can’t fuck things up between you two.

Your feelings are already coming in the way. They have always done, but since you have been experiencing the sexual stuff with him it has become worse. Maybe it’s because you have a tiny bit of hope that Lando also feels something for you. It’s the first time you have ever had that hope. Partly because of his jealousy, that must mean something right? But still, you wonder if it’s worth it if it can also ruin your friendship? What if you’re wrong and Lando doesn’t feel the same?

When Lando grabs your hand, he pulls you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look to fast,” he says, “but I think Pierre is coming this way.” Fuck. You’re not in the mood for that. Slowly you watch around you, it doesn’t take you long to see that Lando is right. Pierre is walking towards the two of you. In only a couple seconds he’s standing in front of you.

“You could have told me,” Pierre says to Lando without any context.

“Told you what?” Lando asks confused.

“Come on,” Pierre sighs, “All the gossip accounts are full with it. The two of you are dating.”

“Sorry?” You ask confused, “Are gossip accounts stating that we’re dating?”

“Yes!”

You let out a sigh. Gossip accounts have always been a thing. They always suspect that there’s something going on between Lando and you, but they never had any proof. You drop Lando his hand. This is a mess. You don’t even want to see your socials right now, they’re probably full with hate. Fuck.

“Since when do you believe gossip accounts?” Lando asks Pierre.

“Since she has been spotted with hickeys all over her and she’s now wearing one of your crewneck sweaters,” Pierre answers annoyed, “I don’t get it why you didn’t tell me. I made a fool of myself by asking her on a date. You could have said something.”

“I told you that you weren’t her type.”

Lando continues to argue with Pierre. You on the other hand can only wonder when the gossip accounts are going to share the pictures of your love bites. Fuck, what are ‘fans’ going to do then? You grab your phone and look at the way your notifications are already blowing up. Reactions keep coming, you read a couple of them. Most of them are calling you a slut. Whenever you see a nice one, there are more negative ones beneath them. You search on a gossip page, wondering what they already posted. Then you see one of the pictures.

It’s you in your former outfit. The hickeys on your neck and collar are hard to miss. Suddenly you start to feel watched. It feels like everyone around you is looking at you.

“You should have told me that you two are dating,” Pierre scoffs angrily.

“We’re not,” you sigh. It’s the first time that you’re saying something again. “And even if we were, it’s none of your business. Can you take me back to the motorhome Lando?”

When you’re finally back in Lando his drivers room, you grab your phone again. Your notifications are blowing up. It seems like everyone is talking about Lando and you dating. You have never gotten this many comments under a Instagram post, you’re above a thousand now on your most recent post. You try to read as many as you can, but a lot of them are the same. People are calling you a slut for “parading” around the track with the hickeys. Others are saying that Lando deserves better, that you’re only with him for the fame. As if you weren’t with him before he even started in Formula One. Sometimes you read a positive comment. Some people seem to like it that Lando and you are “finally” together, not that it’s true. Some people are even reacting about the true love between you two. All of it makes you sad. You don’t even notice the tears that are falling down on your cheeks, until Lando wipes a couple of them away.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. He takes you into his arms and tries to comfort you as much as he can manage. He doesn’t know what is wrong, but he can guess. When Pierre said something about the gossip accounts, he didn’t even think about the consequences for you from those accounts, but now he remembers. Every time they post about you, your notifications are blowing up. People know how to find your Instagram and how to leave horrible comments. He doesn’t even want to read it.

“Nothing of what they’re saying is true babygirl,” Lando shushes. You let out a soft sob. “Everyone thinks I’m a slut,” you tell him, “or a gold digger or just an awful person.”

“You’re not.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most wonderful person I know,” he continues, “So stop letting this get to you babygirl, they’re not worth it.”

“Lan?” You ask softly. He nods and waits for you to continue. “This is all your fault,” you softly joke, “fucking hickeys.” Lando lets out a soft laugh.

+++

“Fuck, babygirl,” Lando grunts when you lower your body onto his. He feels himself enter you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You’re sitting on top of Lando. He’s not even more then ten minutes back from the second free practice. It didn’t went like he wanted to. When he got out of the car, he let everyone know about that. The moment he started to scold multiple mechanics you were quick to intervene. Normally you don’t, but Lando kept going on and on. It was getting too much. He really lost his temper this time. You wonder why, normally he’s rather patient.

Slowly you move your body on top of Lando. This position makes you feel more fulled up then the first time. With slow movements you fuck him. When you let out a soft moan, Lando shows you a small smile. His hands are all over your body. He kneads your boobs while pressing his lips against your collarbone. Softly placing kisses all over it.

You didn’t know what got into you when you grabbed Lando his hand while he acted rude to his team. He gave you a surprised look and even shut his mouth for a bit. When you stood on your toes to reach his ear, he turned all of his attention to you. “If you stop whining,” you whisper, “I’ll have sex with you in your drivers room.” Lando shut in within seconds. He even apologized to his crew before taking your hand and almost running towards his drivers room with you. Undressing you as soon as he turned the door behind him. When your dress was all up and his pants were down and he was ready to enter you, you surprised him one more time. “I want to be on top.”

Lando can’t stop himself from letting out multiple moans when you increase your pace. Faster then before you move yourself on top of him. He grabs your neck and moves your face closer towards himself so he can kiss you properly. His hands are still busy kneading your boobs. He gives your nipples a bit more attention by softly pulling on them.

“Fuck Lan,” you whine when he pulls back from the kiss. He chuckles and let his hands slide down on your body. His lips are attached to your neck. “No more visible marks,” you instruct half jokingly, half serous. Lando grunts but moves his mouth a bit lower, making sure his new marks can be covered with summer clothes.

You’re surprised when you feel Lando put his finger on your clitoris. He shows you a small smile when he notices your surprised look. Slowly he traces circles on the sensitive bud, making you feel all kind of things. You let out a loud moan. Lando adds a bit more pressure. You try to increase your pace as well, but you start to feel worn out. Lando helps you, effortless he moves himself inside of you. Picking up a fast pace. It causes you to let out more moans.

“Fucking insane how good you feel,” Lando groans. He feels himself coming close to his orgasm, but he wants to feel you cum on his dick first. He increases his pace on both fucking you as on playing with your sensitive bud. Stimulating you as much as he can.

“Are you going to cum for me?” Lando asks you, “Let me feel how good it feels to have your pussy clenching around my cock.” You don’t react verbally. Lando keeps talking dirty to you. “So fucking tight.” “Such a good girl.”

“I’m close Lan,” you suddenly tell him, “Can I cum?”

Lando increases his pace as much as he can. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you. When he feels your pussy clenching around his cock, he lets go as well. When his cum enters your body, Lando tells you one more thing. “My good girl.” It makes you all flustered.

+++

Days are going by quickly. Before you know it, it’s already Sunday - meaning it’s race day again. This is the last race of the triple header, meaning that after this Lando and you will go back home. You don’t know how to feel about that. Last weeks you have spent al your time with Lando, sleeping in his hotel rooms and being together almost every moment of the day. It has been extremely nice. You like living with Lando like this. That’s maybe why you don’t like going back home tomorrow. Then you’ll be alone in your own apartment again, without Lando laying next to you in the bed every night.

“Good luck kiss?” Lando asks you. He holds his helmet. He’s almost ready to get into his car and to start with the race. You show him a small nod and press the standard ‘good luck kiss’ against his cheek. Like you always do when you’re with him at races. “Don’t know if that will bring me enough luck,” Lando jokes.

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean? Before you can ask about it, Lando presses his lips on your for a small moment of time. It can’t have lasted longer then a second, but it was long enough to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. You look around you. Did anyone see it? It can’t be. You don’t more negative comments on your socials. Now that you think about it, what did just happen? Since when is Lando kissing you in public places?

Lando doesn’t say anything else, he walks off to his car. He can only think about what he just did. He realizes that if anyone saw, it will mean that you’ll get more hate. Maybe he should say something about it on his socials? He needs some help from his PR team. He wonders what’s going on with him. He just kissed you in a public place, practically on his work, where everyone could see. Since when are you doing that? If someone saw and shares it, the madhouse will be complete. He wonders what would happen if he would date you and share it online. People have been shipping the two of you for a long time, so some of them might be happy. But there are always so many haters. When he takes place in his car, he looks at the Alpine motorhome. He remembers Pierre his statements from earlier this week. Finally someone who understands that you’re not for him to take.

He really should solve this problem and make you his.

Then he remembers something else. Didn’t you have a date planned with some guy for after the triple header? He tries to forgot about it and focus on the upcoming race, but that seems to be hard form him right now. He can’t stop thinking about the guy who’s taking you on a date. Who is it? Will you fall in love with him? When he lines up to the start, he’s still thinking about the guy you’re going on a date with.

You watch Lando race. All of your focus is on him, nothing new now that you think about it. Only this time it doesn’t feel like it normally does. It’s because of some weird feeling that you can’t seem to shake off. It almost feels like something is going to happen. Something bad. It feels off. You don’t know why you’re thinking like this right now, but you can’t seem to stop. You can’t take your eyes off the screen which shows Lando his car all the time. Multiple mechanics are watching the fight for second place, but you can only focus on Lando. Even the way he races feels off. It’s hard to say without any knowledge about it, but he almost seems unfocused.

Then you see the reason behind your feeling. Lando misses his braking point. Within seconds he’s spinning into the wall. You let out a loud scream when it happens. Quickly you stand up and walk closer to the screen. All the attention of everyone in the motorhome is on the screen as well now. Everyone is waiting for Lando to say something. To let them know he’s okay.

You need to hear Lando say something. You need to know if he’s okay. The crash didn’t look massive, but still bad. It doesn’t take long for a safety car to show up on the grid, leading the drivers. Many drivers are coming into the pit to change their tires. You don’t notice any of it, you just keep waiting for Lando to say something. The stress doesn’t leave your body.

“I’m ok.”

You feel how you let out a lot of air at once with a relieved sigh. Thank god, Lando is okay. You watch how he climbs out of his car. It seems like he has no trouble with walking away from the track to get back to the motorhome. Within a couple minutes you see Lando showing up at the motorhome. The medical team is following him inside, you hear some talks about medical checks but you don’t follow it. All of your attention is on Lando.

While walking to Lando you almost trip over your own feet. “Fuck Lan,” you stammer while rushing yourself into his arms. Lando doesn’t react verbally, he just wraps his arms around your body and holds you closely to himself. You don’t even notice that you’re making his race suit wet with your tears. “Are you hurt?” You ask him.

“We would have known if he joined us for his medical checks,” someone tells you with an annoyed tone in her voice. You let go of Lando and look around you, only to see that the whole medical team is gathered around you.

“You didn’t have your check up yet?” You ask Lando confused. “No,” he replies. “Fucking hell Lan,” you mutter, “Go with them you idiot.” Lando shows you a boyish grin, “Sorry babygirl, I wanted to see you first.”

Lando and you are rejoined only a small hour later. He is still laying in a hospital bed. The medical team decided that he needed some rest before getting back out of there. The crash wasn’t hard and didn’t left much damage across for a few bruises and painful spots on his body. They gave him some pain medication, which causes him to feel a bit loopy. You’re sitting next to him, waiting until he wakes up. You have seen him on medication like this before, the Grand Prix in Las Vegas showed you how loopy and careless Lando can act with medication like this. You wonder how he will act this time.

When Lando wakes up, he’s happy to see sitting right next to him. He is quick to remember the way he crashed during the race. He feels ashamed when he realizes why he lost his concentration and how it ended his race, such a rookie mistake. And probably easy to fix if he finally gets the nerve to tell you about his feelings. He feels himself getting mad at himself. Before he can think about it any longer you’re already taking to him.

“How are you feeling Lan?” You ask him.

“Not great,” Lando sighs honestly.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you confess, “what happened?”

He can’t exactly tell you that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and the date you’re going on as soon you’re back in Monaco. That would be stupid. Although it is the real reason. Lando wants to make up some sort of excuse, but he is already talking again. Those fucking pain meds.

“Couldn’t focus,” he confesses, “I kept thinking about something.” He can barely stop himself on time from telling you that he was thinking about you and your date.

“About what?” You ask confused.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lando quickly says before he can say anything stupid again. He needs to stop himself from confessing even more. “Okay Lan,” you softly say. You grab his hand and draw some figures on it. There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Lando enjoys your soft touches on your hand. He feels himself getting calm and almost falling asleep again. But right before he falls asleep, he can’t stop himself from saying something stupid again. He cam blame the pain meds, but he knows that he means every word.

“Babygirl?” He asks. “Yeah Lan?”

“Please don’t get a boyfriend,” he says. “And please don’t go on a date when you’re back in Monaco with anyone else then me.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that? How on earth will he fix this? Lando closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep instead of thinking what he just did. Lando doesn’t notice the way you have a small smile laying on your lips and how good you feel because of his words.

“I already cancelled that date,” you confess to Lando, “After we fucked I decided that it might be a better idea to practice a bit more.”

Lando opens his eyes and shows you a happy grin. “I don’t think you need a lot of practice,” he says, “but I’m happy to help.”

“That’s a deal.”

“My good girl,” Lando mutters before falling asleep.

part eleven

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