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catboyieejeno · 16 hours ago

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because even then, i knew — l.sm { 1 }

genre: non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au

cw: female reader, petnames, cursing, seokmin is desperately down bad, slowburn, pining, so much fluff, mentions of alcohol, consuming alcohol, nsfw, oral (f recieving) protected sex, mentions of cheating, angst

wc: 21k

tracklist: {spotify} {apple music}

navigation: {one} {two}

note: this story is my absolute baby. i stared writing it one day with no plot in mind, and ended up with 45k. it's supposed to feel like a kdrama as you read it (and i mean this in every sense of the word—you will see), so please listen to the tracklist as you scroll. the songs are carefully timed in order to play as you read certain parts, but if you're not sure you're listening to the right song, part two will tell you where you should be and you will resync.

please love this story, it was written with an unbelievable amount of care, detail, and intention.

audio message from: seokmin <3

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:58

“Hey. I know we haven’t talked in a while but… I wanted you to know that I miss you, and I miss us. And… I’m in love with you, if that means anything to you now.”

≡;- ꒰ ° one ꒱

Love at first sight is undoubtedly the biggest fabrication that the media and modern culture has ever tried to push on society. It only happens in the movies, and even then, it’s barely done right. There is no such thing as happy endings, because that’s not how things are in the real world.

Make no mistake; Lee Seokmin is not a pessimist, nor is he a bitter person. He’s the kind of guy who helps old people cross the street during rush hour, or helps kids pluck their balloons out of trees so they won’t cry. He actually does like long walks on the beach, as a matter of fact, and he happens to be a casual enjoyer of rom-coms, something his other male friends would rather die than admit to.

Once upon a time, he used to be a hopeless romantic, but that rug was pulled out from under him on a few too many occasions, and while he’s still a positive, amicable guy, he had learned that sometimes, things were too good to be true.

For example: when he was 7, he fell in love.

His 20 year old babysitter, who his parents had hired to watch over him on evenings while they were at work, was absolutely perfect—he knew from the moment he met her, she would be the girl he’d marry.

She was Korean, and a freshman in college with a major in business management. Every week, she would walk hand-in-hand with him to the corner store to buy him sausage sticks and sticky tteokbokki at the food cart with the money she could spare from her part time job as a tutor, since his parents would only leave money for emergencies. In return for her generosity, he’d sit still and play while she finished her homework, and occasionally, Seokmin would even pick flowers from his mom’s garden for her. This earned him a few scoldings, but that didn’t matter to him, because she was, and would always be worth it.

Until one day, where he had promised to behave while she finished a practice test. Poor, unsuspecting, seven-almost-eight-year-old Seokmin with his cheeks stuffed full of sausage and rice cake, overheard her calling another boy (albeit a boy her age who could actually reciprocate her affection) a sweet name over the phone. He dropped everything and stomped over to her, bursting into tears and rambling on about how she broke his heart. She was fired the very same evening as a consequence of his tantrum.

When he was 14, he fell in love again. And this time, it had to be love… right?

A family of foreigners had moved in across the street, and their daughter, who was the same age as him this time around, would come over to study with him after school and on the weekends. She’d teach him English, and he’d teach her Korean. She was his first kiss and his first girlfriend—they lasted a reputable two months—until they moved back overseas. Apparently, her parents had only moved there for the summer as part of a work-related trip, and when they said goodbye and promised to write, little Grace revealed she didn’t want a committed, long-distance relationship at the ripe age of fourteen.

In retrospect… maybe she was right, but Seokmin would never forget the way his heart shattered.

The only real, long-term girlfriend he’s had was a little over two years ago. They dated for over a year, she met his parents and he met her’s, the two of them even exchanged promise rings. At the time, he would gush to his friends about how he’d never met anyone as funny and brilliant as her, and how lucky he feels to have done so.

Then, the week before his birthday, Seokmin found out she had been sleeping with her best friend for months.

Love at first sight—true love—It was a flat out lie, and he refused to fall for its charm ever again.

So why, he thinks to himself, why can’t he stop looking at you?

He noticed you for the first time last week after his car had been totaled during an impromptu road trip the day prior. Soonyoung, one of his best friends, had gotten on the subway while drinking and somehow ended up eight stops away from his apartment at an ungodly hour in his wasted state. Seokmin was the only one that answered the phone. He picked him up, but on the way back, Soonyoung tried to crawl out the window of the passenger seat and Seokmin, whilst trying to pull him back inside, had crashed into a tree.

The car was old, and he was saving up for a new one anyway. That, and the insurance gave him some chump change for the wreckage, which was more than he’d thought he’d get, so it wasn’t too bad. The biggest inconvenience he faced now was getting to and from work.

Every night, after his shift at the flower shop, Seokmin would take the bus transit home. The first night, he only saw you in passing, because he practically had to run after the bus to catch it after arriving late to the stop. He took the first seat he could find, panting and exhausted after his long shift and the blip of a marathon he just ran, and sunk down into it.

Since he had never needed to take the bus until now, he spent some time glancing out the window and studying the route, discovering the stop near his apartment was the very last one, arriving at nearly 10:00 P.M. Yours was the second to last one, only a few blocks over. That evening, he only barely caught a glimpse of the side of your face as you climbed off, crossing the street and strolling out of sight with way too many things clutched within your jacketed arms.

The following night, he made it to the bus on time, thankfully, and spotted you sitting near the back, though that didn’t mean much to him yet. He took his same seat near the front, despite the many empty spots throughout the vehicle. And just like before, at the second to last stop, you walked down the middle aisle to exit.

This time, while wrestling your books, laptop case, walkman, and coat, your headset wire had snagged on the seat in front of him. He watched as you turned around and detangled it hurriedly, your gaze barely flickering up to meet his curious one for a split second. You flashed him a ghost of a smile and then, you were gone again.

Seokmin found himself looking forward to seeing you every single night from then on.

He decided to start sitting in the back of the bus too, blaming his avid interest in you purely on the distorted conclusion that it made no sense to sit in the front! He was always the last one aboard, and the back had so many more seats for him to get comfortable.

That’s what he convinced himself of, at least for the first few days. He tried sitting in a couple different spots, though he wouldn’t dare sit too close to you—he’s not that bold. He did, however, decide after his trial and error period that his favorite seat was the far left one on the last row. Your seat was forever unchanging, on the second to last row and all the way to the right.

This way, he could watch over your shoulder as you typed away on your computer. You seemed to be writing something personal, because night after night, you’d create paragraph after paragraph, working tirelessly to craft whatever it was that you were working on so extensively. He figured it couldn’t be just any assignment or work-related exposition. This meant something to you, and that only spiked his curiosity more. The only pause in your routine of clicking away at keys was skipping a song or two on your walkman or glancing out the window for inspiration.

He’s never sat close enough to actually read the words on your screen, but then again, that might be overstepping a bit. The urge does frequently bug him, though, especially when he notices how immersed you become the moment you lift the screen of your laptop and open your document. Every night, he watches you do the same thing, and every night, he fights the urge to strain his neck and catch a glimpse of a single word on your screen.

He contains himself, though, on the principle that eavesdropping is wrong, and he intends to never do you wrong.

On the sixth night he spends in his new seat, he notices about twenty minutes in when your fingers stop clicking away. At first, he considers the possibility that you may be thinking or planning your next sentence. But, as the bus nears your stop, you don’t move to start picking up your things. It immediately alerts him, and he sits up straighter as he realizes, you’ve fallen asleep.

He’s never given something so simple so much thought in such a short time. He can feel the bus slowing down, and he can hear the brakes screeching and wheezing. Would he feel worse for disturbing your rest and making an inevitably awkward first impression, or letting you continue to sleep and possibly (definitely) miss your stop?

Certainly the latter.

Without a second thought, Seokmin hurriedly slides out of his aisle and climbs down the two steps of the back row to reach you at your seat, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving it a light shake. You don’t budge, even when he calls out to you.

“Excuse me, Miss. Miss?”

As the bus comes to a full stop and the engine’s roar becomes suppressed, he can hear the music playing through the headset that sits still over your ears. With a grimace, he softly slips them off, and the action is enough to stir you awake. You blink in confusion as you adjust to the brightness of the lights inside the bus, and your eyes land on his widened ones.

“Sorry for waking you, but,” he gestures outside, “this is your stop.”

You look around to confirm, and upon seeing the familiar intersection and corner store, you realize what he’s saying is true.

A few things go through your head: First of all, the stranger in front of you has the kindest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Secondly, his nose is absolutely huge, and for some reason, he knows your stop, which makes you wonder where else he’s capable of poking it. So naturally, you ignore the sweet charm behind his eyes and shrug off his arm, grabbing your things quickly and booking it for the door that the bus driver has to reopen when he sees you approaching.

You climb off and consider taking a different route, but if he knows your stop, he likely knows which way you walk every single night. You curse at yourself for even falling asleep in the first place, then drag your feet along towards your apartment after accommodating your headphones back over your ears, your walkman clutched in hand, its music swirling in your ears once more.

Because of this, you miss the way Seokmin shouts after you for leaving your phone behind, and the way the bus driver then shouts at him for holding him up.

“I’ve got a wife to get home to, kid. Get back on the bus or I’m leaving you here.”

He looks between the device in his hand, you, and back at the burly bus driver who raises a threatening brow his way.

In defeat, he gets back on board and walks down until he’s reached his seat, but not before stopping at yours, or rather stumbling there with how aggressively the driver steps on the gas and sends him flying. He does a quick once over your seat to make sure you haven’t left or dropped anything else, but your phone is the only thing you forgot in your rush.

The drive to his street is rather short, and when he does some calculations on the maps app, he discovers it’s at most a half-hour walk from his place to yours. That revelation makes him regretful, because as he dismounts the bus, crosses the street, and climbs the flight of stairs to his apartment, he realizes he could’ve run after you and given you your phone and just walked home after. It would’ve allowed him to explain that he’s not a creep, and that he only knows your stop because you’re the only other person on the bus at that hour.

He thinks about his encounter with you the whole way to his apartment, and even at home while he takes his shower and brushes his teeth. And still, when he plugs your dead phone in, so that he can give it to you fully charged the next day. As it comes to life, half a dozen messages come in with a series of ‘dings’ from a contact you have saved as just a heart. He can’t read what the messages say because of the privacy settings you have in place, so he just silences it as more messages come in. He would have tried to let them know your phone isn’t with you, but the person with the heart alias never tries to call, and so there’s nothing Seokmin can do about it but hope tomorrow comes quickly.

That thought brings him back to you, and as he lies down, he finds himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep because he’s mulling over the way you shrugged him off. It’s only the long day at work, where he spent eight hours on his feet watering ficuses and making arrangements with daisies and lilies, that manages to silence his brain and lull his eyelids to a close so he can get some rest.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

His shift at the floral shop had gone by painfully slow today. The hours that usually pass relatively quickly with the friendly faces of Korean grandmas that stop by after going to the market, have dragged on for an eternity.

He reminds himself that he’s going to see you tonight and that thought gets him through the day. He’ll at last be able to redeem himself of the interaction that’s been haunting him for the last twelve hours. He even dreamt about you, specifically about the conversation going a completely different way than it did.

“Sorry for waking you, but this is your stop.”

“Oh, my god,” you said. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize I drifted off.”

“No worries,” Seokmin would flash you a smile and help you with your things, since he had noticed your tendency to travel with more than you could carry. “Here.”

“Thanks again, uh…”

“Seokmin.”

“Seokmin,” you’d repeat, and even in his dream, he had reeled over the way his name rolled off your tongue.

In an extra effort to mend things over with you, Seokmin dips into his weekly paycheck at the end of his shift to buy you a tote bag from the shop. That way, you’d have a place to pack your laptop when you weren’t typing up stories, and your coat that you insisted on draping over your arm? It could go in there, too!

Why you chose to listen to music on a walkman in today’s modern age, he has no idea—but now you’d have a place to store it so you won’t leave it behind like you had your phone.

The tote bag he picks out for you is the nicest, most sizable one in stock. It’s the first time he’s bought anything from the floral shop, so the measly ten percent employee discount he got was rather underwhelming. Still, it would be worth it. He’d hand you your phone, explain himself to clear up the previous night's confusion, and offer you the tote bag as a gift.

When he climbs on the bus later that evening, you’re sitting in the same spot as always, except this time, you’re expecting him. Your eyes flash up at him then fall back to your laptop. Subsequently, you slump further down in your seat, and Seokmin quickly realizes you’re trying to avoid him.

Now—he had talked himself through the plan of approaching you all day, it’s all he thought about during the less busy hours of his shift to pass the time. He had walked through the process once, twice, and then again in hopes of nailing down every detail, but he didn’t once account for your very obvious disinterest.

It offsets his mood entirely, which was confident and sociable just moments ago, and he trails down the aisle, past your seat, and to his own instead with discouragement.

The moment he sits, it’s as if someone winded up his leg: it starts restlessly bouncing, and his mind mirrors the action, his inner monologue providing no relief for his grief.

If he was any other rational person, he would’ve taken your coldness with a grain of salt; he’d hand you your phone, say “you left this.” and go on about his day—no, his life, as if this moment, as if meeting you, was nothing more than an insignificant scene in the story of his life. He wouldn’t spend every hour overthinking your first impression of him, or feeling disappointed that it wasn’t what he wanted it to be. And he certainly wouldn’t be here, talking himself up to the task of walking over to you once more.

Even his own forgiving conscience is embarrassed when he readies himself to stand, chanting “Ok. 3…2…” and then sits back down in defeat.

This goes on for the better part of an hour, until Seokmin remembers you’d be getting off soon. This realization materializes as the last person besides the two of you gets off, and the familiar buildings that are just a few blocks away from your stop come into view. At the same time, a new string of messages come in from the same individual who was writing to you last night, and Seokmin decides it’s about time that he returns your phone to you—for real this time.

With a nod to himself, he pushes off the chair with his legs and forces them to move him over to you, where he stands for a few seconds, waiting for you to notice him. In one hand, he’s holding out your phone, and under his other arm is the folded tote bag he’s planning to give you. He can’t get his tongue to comply, making his feet work was hard enough, so hovers over you a little longer until you practically feel his eyes on you and look up.

“Hi–”

You slide your headphones off one ear, and he clears his throat.

“Hi.” He repeats, “My name is Seokmin. I’m the guy who woke you up last night.”

“I know.” You cast your eyes down to your phone and he leans it closer to you.

“You left your phone here.”

Your lips purse contemplatively as you take it, mumbling out a quick “thanks,” and unlocking it to inspect your pile of notifications. Seokmin only clears his throat again.

“I also wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo, It’s just–”

You seem to lose focus of what he’s saying as you read through the messages on your phone, a deep frown molding over your features. The fact that you’re not listening at all trips him up, especially when he’s trying so hard to recite the mental script he prepared for this very moment.

“Uh, I just… The only reason I know your stop is because it’s only you and me on the bus this late. So, you know–”

As he points this out, you perk your head up and look around, as if to check for yourself that this is, in fact, true. It doesn’t ease your apprehension about him, but his kind eyes look so desperate in their plea for your understanding that, for a fleeting instant, you manage to hone in on his explanation and dismiss your suspicions about his nosy tendencies.

“Naturally, I just noticed, and I didn’t want you to miss your stop.”

When you nod once and say “ok,” he almost wishes you hadn’t said anything at all. That’s it? That’s all you have to say to ease his discomfort?

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he didn’t almost forget, he just wanted to sound nonchalant, “I got you this since you’re always–”

“Well, Seokmin…” It’s even better than in his dream, hearing you say his name, “You should know better than me by now that,” you point outside and the bus reaches a halt, “this is my stop.”

Hurry up, Seokmin. “I got you this bag for your things.”

You take it from his outstretched hands with the smallest mutter of gratitude, but don’t bother to inspect it or put it to use. You simply pile it atop of your laptop and coat with pursed lips, not sparing it a second glance. He’s almost confused about why you’re still staring him down expectantly after that, until it becomes clear to him that he’s blocking the aisle and in turn, your exit.

Somewhat awkwardly, Seokmin moves aside, and you waste no time in passing right by him and heading for the door with all your trinkets stacked up in your arms.

Dejection is an appropriate word to describe how Seokmin feels right about now. So is frustration.

Even after you leave, cross in front of the bus, and make your way home, Seokmin stands in the same spot, dumbfounded. He stays like this for a few seconds, even when the bus moves and messes with his balance. It’s not until his annoyance really settles in, nestling in his bones and making his face glow red, that he manages to stomp back over to his spot and plop down.

You are easily the most irritating person he has ever met; ill-mannered, ungrateful, rude, and downright selfish. Seokmin stopped going to therapy months after he recovered from his ex, but he finds himself regressing in the ‘self-recognition’ area at this moment. Although he can consciously acknowledge that his anger stems from your interaction not going as he wanted it to, he still decides to dump the blame on you and call you all these names in his head. Why he so desperately wants to be liked by you, he doesn’t know. Why he’s irrationally spiraling in the absence of your approval, he also doesn’t know.

What he does know is that the next twenty-four hours are going to be just as bad as the last, and he’s going to be kicking himself until he sees you again and gives you a piece of his mind.

Tonight, he rolls around in bed longer than usual, until the clock strikes two and he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

The next day, when Seokmin boards the bus, you’re nowhere to be seen. You’re not at your seat, nor anywhere else for that matter, which he decides is for the best, because he’s able to swallow down his explosive complaints for another day instead of possibly causing a scene on the bus.

Ha! You’re lucky you didn’t get on tonight, he thinks, I'll spare you from my lecture for another evening.

Except the following night, you aren’t there either.

As it turns out, you aren’t on the bus for the next six days straight.

And instead of recovering from his emotions like a normal person, Seokmin is only spurred on, tormented and pursued by his thoughts of you. They've shifted, because now he can only help but wonder what you’re up to. He’s back to square one, wondering if he weirded you out so much that you resorted to finding another means of transportation with the sole intention of avoiding him.

Then, he reproaches himself, his rationale telling him that surely, there must be another reason for your absence—one that isn’t at all related to him. He ponders this as he piles a few stems of lilies and eucalyptus on one another, wrapping them and tying them closed.

“Seokmin-ah. What’s the matter?”

He turns quickly to face Ms. Boo, the owner of the flower shop and the grandmother of his best friend. On more than a few occasions, she had acted as a grandmother to him, too—bringing him lunches and pestering him about eating enough, or nagging him for not dressing properly in cold weather.

“Nothing!”

“Look what you’re doing to my flowers.” She narrows her eyes, extending a wrinkled finger out in his direction.

Seokmin glances down to find that his knuckles have gone white against the stem of the baby’s breath he's been unconsciously shaking like a rattle. The delicate white flowers have been pulverized, reduced to white fuzz on the arrangement he was attempting to make and the surrounding surface of the work station.

“Ah, shi-“ She gives him a glare, “Sorry.” He quickly rephrases, “I’ll clean this up.”

As Ms. Boo straightens out some gardenias in a vase, she asks him again, “What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath, reaching for the dustpan under the counter. “It’s just… Someone I met on the bus.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.” He nods, then sighs. “I just wish the conversation we had went differently, that’s all.”

“Well,” She seems to be mustering up her years of wisdom, eyebrows raising as she fixes her apron, “You’re a handsome boy, Seokmin-ah. And you’ve got good sense. God knows you’ve got more than Seungkwan,” she grumbles the last part, and it makes Seokmin’s lips curl up a bit. “Your car isn’t fixed yet, right?”

He shakes his head, “No.”

“So, then get back on the bus tonight and talk to her.” She insists with the assurance only an 85 year old grandmother could have.

“I would, but…”

“And stop moping. You’re making the flowers sad. They feel these kinds of things.” She nods, feeling the petal of the lily between her fingertips. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers, “Finish this arrangement and get back to work.”

He finishes brushing the white fuzz of the carnation into the dustpan and discarding it before tackling the bouquet he was previously working on with a tad more care. He finishes after deciding the pale flowers need a touch of color, so he adds a few pink roses and places it in a bucket near the front window of the store on display.

He takes a moment to glance outside at the busy street, watching the people that pass by. Couples stroll hand in hand, and more often than not, the girls will stop their partner to point out the flowers. This was a common occurrence, and if Seokmin was lucky, the displays would draw in a few more customers than usual.

Not today, though. As he does a once over every arrangement he’s chosen to display on the window, he realizes they all lack something besides effort. He can’t put his finger on exactly what they’re missing, but Ms. Boo was right— the plants do feel emotions—and these weren’t particularly joyous creations.

As he sprays the leaves with a little mist bottle he carries around in his apron, he watches through the window each person that passes by in an effort to pass the time. It isn’t like there’s much to do during the less busy hours, and there’s only so many arrangements he can make when they’re all coming out dull and lifeless to match his gloom.

So, Seokmin opts for people watching, until a specific individual catches him by surprise.

At first, he thinks he’s seeing things.

Not only have you stopped outside the shop to gaze and gawk at the flowers while wearing a soft, admiring look, but soon enough, the bell above the door has chimed, meaning you’ve actually come inside.

He would greet you, as he’s supposed to do when a customer enters the shop, but he… can’t—at least not from where he is now, ducking behind the sales counter.

Before you could have spotted him, his fight or flight reflexes, or in this case just flight, had kicked in. He could’ve easily ran behind the curtain to the room where some of the flowers are stored, but then he would’ve ran into Ms. Boo, who would have questioned his reasons for leaving the counter unattended.

Then, he realizes that Seungkwan wouldn’t be coming in until later, and their other part-timer Eunchae didn’t work today because she had an exam at school.

The service bell at the counter rings once and he grimaces, full of hopeful thinking that you’d just go away if no one appeared. Instead you ring it again, and he ducks lower, until some shuffling behind him and the voice of his best friend’s grandmother gives him away.

“Seokmin-ah, there’s someone at the counter!”

There’s a pause, and though he can’t see how your ears perk up at the sound of the familiar name, he knows he’s absolutely busted because even if you didn’t correlate that ‘Seokmin’ was also the same guy who woke you up on the bus, he’d be forced to show himself before long. Ms. Boo continues to ramble, much to his dismay.

“Are you still sulking over the pretty girl from the bus?” Yeah, that’ll do it. “Ah, Seokmin-ah… I don’t pay you to sulk.”

At this, Seokmin covers his face with his palm.

He has no way of knowing that as he’s willing and pleading with the ground to swallow him whole and spare him from the incoming embarrassment, Ms. Boo’s comment had brought a little smile to your face. You’re peering around the shop for him when you see someone start to peek out from the other side of the counter.

First, his fingers. They land on the marble surface, and less than a second later, his dark mop of hair follows, appearing past the slope. Then, his kind eyes, big nose, and his teeth, clenched together tightly in reluctance as he takes in your amused gaze.

You cross your arms over your chest and Seokmin scoffs, shooting up suddenly.

“This is unbelievable!” His laugh is loud and theatrical, though a touch ironic, given the whole ‘hiding-from-you-behind-the-counter’ situation just seconds prior. He doesn’t let his obvious preposterousness stop his rampage, though. In very Seokmin fashion, he commits to the bit, puffing up his chest a little. “You call me a stalker and now you go and stalk me to my place of employment!”

“I never called you a stalker.” You say simply, and his face falters only slightly. “Nor did I stalk you.” Seokmin rolls his eyes as you continue. “Also, who even says ‘place of employment?’”

As if straight out of a bad middle school play, which Seokmin had plenty of practice at back in his day, he regains his confidence at his turn to speak his line, scoffing again at your nonchalant attitude. Why were you so unbothered about the way you treated him? He ignores your question, and readies his next comeback.

“Yeah? Well, then how did you know where I work, huh?”

When you wordlessly turn to show off the tote bag slung over your shoulder, a few things occur.

The color of Seokmin’s cheeks become very red, very fast. His ears quickly glow a similar shade to match. He completely deflates—letting up on his accusations and dropping the theatrics. There’s a reason he’s a florist and not an actor.

Then, he realizes what you’re showing off—the tote bag! You’re wearing the bag he got you! You’re actually using it! He can see the wire of your headset poking out of the top, and the square mold of your laptop filling the material!

At the same time, however, his eyes land on the only design or pattern it has. Sewn in black, the bag boldly displays the name of Ms. Boo’s flower shop. At this, Seokmin smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.

“I figured I’d find you here.” You mumble, taking a look around, “it’s a pretty place.”

“Yeah.” He nods, but he’s still eyeing you suspiciously, waiting for you to announce the reason for your visit.

“I came to…” your fingers reach over the counter to brush off the fuzz of the baby’s breath that remained on his dark green apron, and Seokmin tucks his chin to his chest, exposing all of his chins as his eyes shift between your hand and eyes that are both set on his torso.

”There.” You sigh, “I came to apologize. I was going through a… Well, anyway, I wasn’t exactly nice to you, so…”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Seokmin grumbles.

“Sorry. And thank you.”

“For?”

You swing the bag around again, “It came in handy.”

”Oh,” He knew it would, “I’m glad.”

“Seokmin-ah… There’s someone at the—Oh, hello.” Shuffling over with a wad of eucalyptuses in her arms, Ms. Boo smiles warmly at you, as she does with all customers who stop by the shop.

”Ms. Boo, this is…“

”Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Both of them echo your name, though Seokmin does it under his breath, in a quiet affirmation to himself. He decides instantly that it’s perfect, and that it suits you perfectly. He doesn’t intend for it to be a Tony and Maria situation, but the way it sounds, rolling off his tongue, is seamless and simply, right.

”It’s lovely to meet you,” Ms. Boo adds.

“Likewise. Excuse me, I wanted to know if I borrow Seokmin real quick? I owe him a coffee.”

Seokmin hisses apprehensively, reinstating his act momentarily as he begins rolling up his sleeve to search for the time on his watch. “Yeah, well, my break isn’t for another—“

”Take him, please. But only give him back when he’s in a better mood.” She gives him a light-hearted glare as she scurries away, calling out, “every plant he’s walked past today has wilted.”

“I plan to do just that. Thank you.”

He makes it look like he’s in some kind of distress when he unties his apron and lifts the neckloop over her head, but really, he can’t wait to cut work for a coffee with you. There’s a little cafe nearby, and he’s almost sure that’s where you’ll be taking him. He also can’t wait to recommend his favorite drink to you, though part of him worries you might not enjoy it and consequently bruise his ego a little—given the fading but still ever-present grudge he’s holding against you.

Seokmin can’t help but prolong the act of clocking out: changing shoes, grabbing his wallet and phone from his cubby, folding his apron (instead of hanging it up in whatever state it’s in, as he usually does), while you shift your weight between your heels and gawk at him in wait. He does all this in an effort to extend the minutes he has with you. His break is fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes can’t go by if the clock technically hasn't started counting.

You stand by patiently, following him around with your eyes as he tidies up a single flower out of place or wipes his hands down on a rag. When he’s finally ready, and can’t be bothered to pretend that lacing his sneakers actually takes longer than two minutes, he joins you on the other side of the counter and follows you to the door.

Feeling a little nervous, he clears his throat. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just go our separate ways.”

“I do. This way, I can properly convey my apology and gratitude. You know: two birds, one stone.”

“Those are two separate things… It’s only right that you would owe me two coffees then.” The way he grumbles under his breath unveils some of his bitterness, though you can tell by the half-hearted side-eye he gives you as he fights back a grin, that he’s really only messing with you.

So you laugh, and Seokmin feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. With a shake of your head, you turn to him, defeated. “Alright. You can get a coffee and a muffin.”

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see your smile again, he brings his hand up to rub his chin, “Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t really like muffins.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to stop by tomorrow, too.”

At this, Seokmin smiles from ear to ear, tilting his head away towards the street so that you don’t catch the way he lights up at the prospect of possibly seeing you again.

As the two of you cross the street, you notice a bus stop a little up the way, nodding towards it so he can look. “Is that where you catch the bus?” He nods. “Funny, my stop is only two blocks down the street we came from.”

Seokmin reaches for the door of the cafe, holding it open for you to walk through. To his delight, you seem to be fascinated by the space—meaning it’s likely you haven’t been here before. He watches as you study the rustic lights on the ceiling, the shiny wooden tables, and the botany at the window.

“These look like the ones from your shop.”

“That’s because they are.” He stands beside you. “The owner of the cafe loves the classics. So do I. So, in exchange for a floral arrangement or two, he lets me borrow a book.” He watches your gaze leave him to face the singular bookshelf he had gestured to, a tall collection of literary classics neatly sorted by author. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head as you take it in, mouth agape as you slowly step toward the shelves.

Not yet grasping the extent of your fascination, and with the line to order clearing out, Seokmin remembers he’s on a schedule. “Do you wanna order?”

“I…” You shake your head, fingertips ghosting over the spine of the books without grazing them, because you know better than to touch an antique collection. It doesn’t stop you from admiring them, mumbling out a response to the boy next to you without giving it much thought. “I usually get… You know what, just order whatever for me.”

You dig for your wallet in the tote bag, handing your card to him without tearing your eyes away from the sight before you. Seokmin only laughs and takes it without the slightest intention to use it. He orders you the drink he thinks you might like the best, as someone with a taste for the traditional things--like classic literature and walkmans--and orders himself a more sugary poison to nurture his sweet tooth.

When he pays, he doesn’t use your card, but he wraps the receipt around it anyway so you won’t holster any suspicion that he did exactly what he did. He only checks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still distracted, and you are, ogling the books as if you had never seen anything as marvelous as the contents of this bookshelf before.

He feels something fluttering in his chest, and he knows very well what caused it, but he pays it no mind—opting instead for leaning into the cashier who he’s frequently talked to during his coffee breaks with his caffeine crazy friend, Boo Seungkwan.

“Hey, Josh. Do you know if Mr. Kim is in today?” Kim Jongdae, the owner of the cafe, had a soft spot for the flower shop boys ever since they helped make him a beautiful bouquet for his wife’s birthday. Then, for their anniversary and every celebration thereafter.

Joshua shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he starts on the drinks. “He’s out for the day. It’s the little one’s birthday.”

“Shame. I wanted to borrow a book.”

“I mean… You know you can just grab any off the shelf.” He mumbles, hissing as he nearly burns his finger with the steaming espresso maker, “Which one do you want?”

“Whichever one she does.” He turns to you,“That’s why I wanted to ask. It’s not for me, but for her.”

“Ah.” Joshua looks between the two of you, without missing the gentle smile on Seokmin’s face as he watches you. He only manages to look away when the older boy at the counter sets both drinks down and clears his throat. “Here.”

“Right.”

“And about that book,” he gestures to you, “I’ll ask Mr. Kim when I see him tomorrow.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” With both drinks and your card wrapped in his receipt all clutched in his hands, he makes his way over to you quietly, as if any abruptness would disturb your studying of each and every title. But you hear him coming—that, or you smell the fresh coffee nearing you—so you spin around on your heels quickly, whisper-shouting as if he wasn’t right beside you now.

“This is incredible. I’m usually at the library until I get on the bus but–thank you,” You take the drink and instantly bring it to your lips for a sip, “Even the library doesn’t have this good of a–ah, hot!”

“Be careful!” Seokmin fights the urge to beckon his hand closer to you, but his shoulders still jolt up in concern that you may have burned yourself.

“–good of a collection–wow, this is really good.” Your shift in focus makes him hold back a snort.

“You like it?”

“Yes, thank you. Should we sit?” He follows you to a table by the window, where the two of you can glance out at the bustling street as you chat.

“Ms. Boo is nice.” You comment, as you notice one of the displays from the shop sitting at the sill.

“She is. She nags, but it’s only because she cares. I wouldn’t change anything about her.”

You wear a warm smile on your lips as you take another sip, savoring the rich taste of your coffee. “I really like my drink. What did you get for yourself?”

Seokmin’s fingers move lazily to push the cup towards you. “Do you wanna try it?”

You hesitate, your gaze flicking between his inviting smile and the drink. After a moment’s pause, you reach for one of the wrapped paper straws sitting near the sugar and salt. You peel it open, pop it into the cup, and take a sip. You seem to like it at first, but then, the overwhelming sweetness hits, a syrupy storm that floods your taste buds, and you immediately regret your decision.

Your face scrunches up in disbelief as you try not to choke on the sugary onslaught, your throat resisting the thick sweetness. “Oh god,” you gasp, your eyes wide.

Seokmin’s laughter bubbles up effortlessly, and he rolls his eyes, clearly entertained by your reaction. You slide the drink back across the table to him, still reeling from the shock of it. “That’s—how can you even drink that?” you manage between soft chuckles.

“Really? It’s not that bad,” he says with a teasing grin, unbothered by the fact that you’re clearly struggling. “I’d say your drink needs an acquired taste.”

“Mine? I’m drinking coffee.” You set your cup down, now fully convinced that whatever he’s drinking is a bizarre concoction. “I don’t know what you’re drinking.”

Seokmin shrugs, his grin only widening. “Agree to disagree.” His cheeks aching from the persistent smile that seems to be permanently affixed to his face now.

You laugh in disbelief before taking a few large gulps of your own coffee, feeling its familiar warmth wash over you and effectively wiping away the remnants of Seokmin’s sugary disaster from your palate.

“So,” you begin, eyes narrowing slightly as you shift your focus to him, “how long have you been working there?”

“For a year now.” He leans back slightly in his chair, clearly more relaxed than before.

“Do you like it?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

He pauses, as if considering his words carefully before answering. “It’s… I mean, yes.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I spotted some hesitation there.”

He sighs, a quiet exhale of air as he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not like I wanna be there forever.” His tone shifts, like he’s trying to brush off the weight of the subject, but it lingers.

Glancing down at your cup, you swirl it around absentmindedly to cool the contents. You try to lighten the mood, teasing him, “Not taking over Ms. Boo’s position in the future?”

Seokmin smiles, clearly amused by the suggestion. “I’ll leave that to her grandson. He works there, too.” He shrugs, a nonchalant gesture, but there's a quiet finality in his words.

Feeling the need to dig a little deeper, you sit up straight, eyes bright with curiosity. “Okay, so what is it that you wanna do?”

Seokmin’s smile falters just a fraction, and for a brief moment, the easy-going confidence he always wears slips. His fingers fiddle with the edge of his cup, and he looks off into the distance, his expression turning distant. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, his tone dropping low.

You pause, sensing something behind the simplicity of his words, but you don’t press further. “It isn’t nothing.” You shake your head, “It’s what you wanna do with your life. I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

After a brief pause that consists of looking between your eyes and playing with the syllables stuck thickly in his mouth, Seokmin mumbles a single word. “Music.”

“Music?” You echo him, then stay silent so he can elaborate. You can tell he feels some degree of discouragement, obvious in the way his shoulders slump down. His hands start fidgeting and he looks out the window again as he seems to recall some memory.

“But it’s nothing serious right now. I mess around with my guitar and write stuff every once in a while, but… I haven’t really played since—“

“I would love to hear,” you cut him off, leaning forward, “If you ever feel like showing someone, I would love to listen to you play.”

There’s a sudden bitterness in his throat (that definitely isn’t his coffee) as he recalls a slightly stirring memory. It’s not as distant as he would like it to be, despite his attempt to store it in the ‘do-not-open’ file of his mind, but it doesn’t stop him from nodding along and agreeing to your offer with some apprehension, because truthfully, you had no part in carving that scar.

Simply put: you were not her.

“I haven’t played in a while,” he rephrases, “but when I pick it up again, you’ll be the first person I show.”

It doesn’t take long before you start telling him about your studies, now that you had succeeded in interrogating him with a few of your burning questions, and it becomes apparent to Seokmin very quickly how easy conversation flows with you. Each word you utter is warm, welcoming, almost familiar, as if he had known you for longer than he did–and he suddenly feels very guilty for having misjudged you.

It’s not like you know of the way he bad-mouthed you in his sensitive mind, so there really is no need to compensate for it. Even then, he feels he owes you something—like he should make it up to you for thinking such things about a person of your nature.

He learns that you’re a student who’s majoring in English literature, with the aspiration to be a writer. The two of you agreed that he’d show you his music, and you’d show him what you’re working on—the last of which delighted him, seeing as he’d spent weeks trying to guess what your fingers typed away on your computer each night on the bus. You hate sugary drinks, that much you made clear, and you had a strong distaste for the smell of holiday candles.

Every word you’d spill left him on the edge of his seat, wanting to know more about you. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to go back to work, he’d have sat with you for the whole afternoon listening to you talk.

But instead, you join him on his walk back to the flower shop, unknowingly having fulfilled your promise to bring him back in a better mood.

“Ms. Boo?”

“Seokmin-ah? You’re back right on time. There’s a customer who needs a graduation arrangement for their son.” Seokmin can tell she’s in the backroom, wrestling the hose to fill the watering can from the strain in her voice.

“I’ll get my apron on!” He calls, then spins around to face you, “Thank you for today. I liked my coffee, even if you didn’t think it was great.”

“Good to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow? Won’t I catch you on the bus tonight?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he hopes you didn’t catch the disappointment behind them.

“Tonight’s the last night of my study group, and those usually run late.” So that’s why you hadn’t been taking the bus lately, “So, tomorrow it is. Unless you don’t want that second coffee…”

“I do.” He insists, and your lips curl up as you reach for the doorknob.

“Alright, then.”

The instant the door shuts behind you, he starts counting down the hours until he can see you again.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Seokmin’s shift could not have gone any slower. Unlike any day before, the hours could not seem to pass, despite how badly he willed them to. Aside from Seungkwan’s occasional side-eyed-glares and complaints of his uncharacteristically fast work pace today, Seokmin has managed to complete his tasks for the day and more: he prepared two graduation orders placed last minute and a walk-in customer who was uncertain of what ‘I’m sorry’ bouquet to get his girlfriend, all while trying to appease potential buyers who entered the shop, drawn in by the six new bouquet’s he’d made this very same morning and displayed at the window.

All that, and it’s only fifteen past eleven in the morning.

“What has you in such a rush? I’m like four orders behind you. Usually, it’s the other way around.” The last part is but a grumble under his breath.

Unable to explain, because he isn’t exactly sure of the answer either, Seokmin brushes Seungkwan's suspicious raised brow off and mentions something that would pique his interest instead, in hopes of changing the topic.

“You know Soonyoung said Chan blew him off for a date? They were supposed to go out drinking and then—”

“And then Minji called him and he bailed, I know. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“And then—”

“Slow down!” Seungkwan all but yanks the scissors from his best friend’s hands, which is, needless to say, not the safest thing to do, and puts them at his own station. “You’ve been hogging them for the last hour.” he hisses, “If my grandma comes in and sees that I’m this far behind, she’ll make me skip my break.”

“I just need time to pass by quickly. I figure if I keep myself busy, it just might.”

“Time doesn’t work like that, idiot.”

“Actually, it does. Idiot.” He sneers back, and Seungkwan could not look more offended if he tried—eyes wide, lips puckered to shape a word he doesn’t quite get to say. He swings back his arm, but before Seokmin could get smacked by the handful of tulips in his grip, Ms. Boo comes bustling through, humming a mindless tune as she clutches a pen and a few envelopes in her arms.

“Boys, I've got your pay for this week and the next. I have an appointment with Dr. Hong next Friday, so I won’t be here. I expect you’ll take care of the shop while I’m—these arrangements are lovely. Who made them?”

The boys look between each other, and Seokmin huffs out before answering. “We both did, Ms. Boo.”

“Good work. Lovely…” She starts mumbling to herself again as she shifts her attention from the flowers at the windowsill to the bills in her hands, counting them and separating them into two even piles.

At Seokmin’s reply (call it an unspoken truce), Seungkwan visibly relaxes, releasing the flowers before he could ruin them and scurrying over to his grandma. “Have you been taking your medicine? You know he’ll scold you otherwise.”

“I’m too old to be scolded,” She replies stubbornly, and their conversation fades momentarily as the door chimes again.

“Welcome to Botanical–oh.” Seokmin’s scripted introduction is cut short as he notices that it’s you who has entered the shop, wearing a small smile.

“Hi.” You greet him, “and hello, Ms. Boo.”

“Hello.” She chirps, “Y/N, was it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Hey,” Seokmin’s wide smile, which nourished the moment he laid eyes on you, suddenly falters as he realizes the time. “Shit, are you here for-”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” he bows his head apologetically at Ms. Boo, then grabs your arm to drag you a little further from the pair, “I can’t take my break right now.” He tells you, regretfully. Your smile falls a little.

“Really? I was looking forward to our coffee time. Plus, I desperately need some caffeine. I’ve been reading this boring manuscript since seven.” You scowl, gesturing to the stack of papers overflowing from your bag.

That pout, the one on your lips: it needs to be fixed as soon as possible. Seokmin holds a single finger up as he scours his brain for a plan, “Wait here a second. Let me see what I can do.” With that, he turns around and speedwalks over to Seungkwan, who hands him his half of the money.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” Seokmin takes the bills, not quite meeting Seungkwan’s eyes as he pockets them. “Hey, listen…” His voice drops, just low enough that it almost feels like a secret. “I need to take my break now.”

Seungkwan blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing. “What?!”

“Shh!” Seokmin urges, his face a mix of impatience and pleading. He tugs at his sleeve, leaning closer so only Seungkwan can hear. “Please.”

“No way,” Seungkwan protests, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “I take the morning breaks, you take the afternoon. That’s how this works.”

Seokmin’s expression hardens just a fraction, the edge of desperation creeping in as he stands a little taller. “Seungkwan, I’m begging you to switch with me just this once.”

Seungkwan stares at him, weighing his options. His arms remain crossed, a stubborn defiance settling into his posture. “No way.”

With no other option, Seokmin huffs and crosses his arms firmly over his chest.

“Fine,” Seokmin finally says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll just go tell your grandma how many customers I’ve helped today and that all the displays were my doing and—”

“Okay, okay!” Seungkwan interrupts, throwing his hands up in surrender. “God, dude, you really suck. Don’t make this a habit, yeah?”

Spoiler alert: he would.

Seokmin’s face lights up with a grin. “Thank you!” he exclaims, not even giving Seungkwan a chance to protest before his apron is untied with a swift yank. It’s tossed into Seungkwan’s arms, and Seokmin is already dashing toward the back, his shoes clacking against the floor with each hurried step.

He doesn't wait for the usual stream of complaints to catch up to him, knowing full well that they’re coming. Quickly, Seokmin kicks off his non-slip shoes in one fluid motion, leaving them in a pile as he slides into his own sneakers.

Less than a minute later, he joins you by the door.

“Coffee time?” His tone is playful, and you mirror it as you nod once.

“Coffee time.”

The cafe has a few students scattered around with their laptops when you enter. There’s also a few others, people who Seokmin knows work in the stores and buildings nearby. They stop by occasionally for their lunch and coffee breaks, but even then, the cafe is emptier than it is most days at this time. Mr. Kim is alongside Joshua, tending to something on the register, when the two of you approach them.

“Morning,”

“Good morning, Seokmin.” Kim Jongdae offers the boy a warm smile.

There’s a bit of small talk exchanged between them—Mr. Kim asks about Ms. Boo and Seungkwan, Seokmin asks about his son’s birthday—until Seokmin goes to introduce you, but turns around to find you near the bookshelf once more. This seems to remind Mr. Kim of something he discussed earlier with Joshua.

“My answer is yes, by the way.” He starts, “Joshua asked me this morning. He said you, or rather, she wanted to borrow a book. Go ahead. It’s the least I can do to repay you boys for the hard work you do to make this place look nice.” Mr. Kim gives him a firm nod, patting Joshua on the back after briefly explaining a new menu item on the screen. He walks off, and Seokmin calls out to him.

“Thank you, really!” He turns to Joshua, “and thank you, too. I’ll get the same two drinks as yesterday. ”

“You got it.”

He pays quickly and turns around, pausing for a few moments to admire you before taking two long strides over. When he’s beside you, he lowers his head so it’s by your shoulder and speaks quietly, so as to not disturb you. “Which one piques your interest?”

“Which ones,” you correct, marveling up at him before looking back to the shelves. “There’s so many. I wouldn’t know which one to grab first if I could.” Your index finger comes up after a pause, “Maybe this one.”

“Go on, then.”

“I wish.” you sigh, and he can no longer withhold his smile.

“I’m serious. Grab it. I asked the owner for permission.”

Your head cranes slowly over to him, eyes so wide he swears he could have seen his reflection in them.

“Are you serious?” Your voice is soft, unsure, surprised, grateful. You’re almost not sure whether to believe him or not, but when his gentle brown eyes look between you and the book, and he gives you a little encouraging nudge on your shoulder as a go ahead, you finally move to reach out slowly and pick it off of the shelf, cradling it in your hands as if it was a precious thing.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” His voice is calm but sincere, and there’s a small, almost thoughtful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you. The shelf you’d been looking at earlier, once so absorbing, now feels distant as your attention shifts entirely to him.

You blink, unsure how to respond, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself lost for words. “Gosh, I-I don’t… I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He mutters with a crooked smile.

“Thank you.” You repeat the words, quieter this time.

“Anytime.” He shrugs. For a moment, the two of you are caught in a quiet, comfortable pause.

It’s only Joshua calling Seokmin’s name from across the room that snaps the two of you back to reality. You blink and suddenly remember—you’re the one who owes him a coffee, not the other way around.

“Wait, you ordered already?”

“I kinda had to.” Seokmin shrugs sheepishly, his eyes flicking over to the counter before returning to you. “Honestly, I’m more scared of going over my break time while Seungkwan is there than when it’s just Ms. Boo.”

“That’s your friend, right? Seungkwan?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Yep,” Seokmin replies. “The one with the dyed blonde hair who always looks like he’s about to complain about something.”

“That’s Ms. Boo’s grandson, then.” You piece it together with a grin, and Seokmin hands you your drink. You take it but find your thoughts drifting again.

“What’s wrong?” Seokmin asks, noticing your distracted gaze.

“I still owe you,” you admit softly, looking down at the drink in your hands. “For the bag and the book.”

Seokmin bumps your shoulder lightly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to keep stopping by.”

“I guess I will,”

To his delight, the rest of Seokmin’s shift was effortless and quick. There was the occasional bickering with Seungkwan, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. And, for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind it as much today. Because, waiting for him at the bus stop when he arrived later that very same evening, was you, eager to tell him all about the book you had started reading.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Seokmin had never been a fan of routines. His personality was spontaneous, and so the things he did on a day-to-day basis were too. Up until now, the only constants in his life were the flower shop and his friends, who provided their own random spontaneity in the form of unpredictable weekend plans or an ever-changing work environment that depended solely on which side of the bed Seungkwan woke up on that morning.

Seokmin gets bored easily, an issue he resolves with movie marathons or long walks or hangouts—just about anything will suffice, if it means his mind is occupied and distracted the majority of the time.

Lately, though, a new element has been introduced to his daily life. A routine.

A routine where, during every shift, you stop by after your time studying at the library and pick him up for ‘coffee time’ during his breaks (much to Seungkwan’s disappointment, coffee time was usually during the first half of the day). Then, you’d stay at the coffee shop reading the book—because despite Seokmin insisting that it was okay for you to take home, you’d always refuse—until his shift was over. He’d find you at the bus stop, waiting for him, and the two of you would chatter on until you were dropped off at your stop.

In a way, he had become dependent on this routine—something he thought could never happen. It was admittedly his favorite part of the day, catching up with you, hearing what you had to say or what thoughts you had cultured after your time reading the book. And when you finished that one a few weeks in, he made sure to take some new potted plants and flowers over to Mr. Kim in exchange for another.

And for some time, that’s the way things were. He had contemplated asking to do something with you outside of the usual bus or coffee shop pattern, but everytime he intended to ask, he’d cower and procrastinate. Next time, he’d tell himself.

Early on a Sunday morning, Seungkwan came into the shop rambling about how his Grandma was at his older sister’s house and wouldn’t be coming by. It’s not like the two of them couldn’t handle the shop alone—they had done it countless times before—but her presence was primarily longed for when it came to getting the two of them back on track. Especially on Sundays, where the task at hand was to clean, fertilize, and redecorate wilted displays. For obvious reasons, this was something neither of them enjoyed doing.

At the moment, it’s just him in the store. Seungkwan was taking his morning break that he insisted was non-negotiable today and Seokmin only agreed so easily because Sundays are the only days he doesn’t see you.

The doorbell jingles softly as you step into the flower shop, and Seokmin glances up from behind the counter looking for a customer or Seungkwan, his hands momentarily pausing in their careful arrangement of flowers. A surprised look crosses his face as you poke your head in.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lifting with a bit of surprise, but the smile that quickly forms softens his expression. “I didn’t think you’d stop by today.”

“Actually, I only came by to see Ms. Boo,” you tease, and Seokmin hisses through his teeth.

“I regret to inform you, she’s not in today.”

You grin, stepping further into the shop, the familiar floral scent filling the air around you. “I’m kidding. I was nearby and I thought I’d keep you company for a bit.”

“It’s not usually this quiet around here,” he says, his hands brushing against the flowers almost absently as he talks. “It’s kind of nice when it’s just me, but I guess I don’t mind the company.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s easy to see right through him when he’s so clearly beaming that you're here.

Your presence, standing so casually by the counter, feels like something he didn’t know he was waiting for. He’s used to the steady hum of the shop, the quiet buzz of the day, the mildly irritating sounds of Seungkwan, but with you here... it’s different. He can’t quite pinpoint why, but there’s a feeling in his chest that settles somewhere between contentment and something else he’s been trying to ignore for a while now.

Before he can dwell too much on it, the door jingles again, and Seungkwan strides in, looking as effortless as ever. His eyes dart between you and Seokmin, already catching the shift in the air.

“Why, hello,” Seungkwan says, grinning widely as he crosses the shop and leans against the counter. “I was wondering when we’d be properly introduced.”

“You must be Seungkwan,” you say, arching an eyebrow at Seokmin, who rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

“And you must be Y/N. It seems like I took my break right on time.” Seungkwan continues, throwing an exaggerated glance at Seokmin. “He can’t shut up about you.”

Seokmin groans as he shifts uncomfortably behind the counter. “Seungkwan, please. You don’t have to make it sound so weird.”

You smile at the light teasing, the way Seungkwan’s attention naturally shifts to Seokmin with that familiar comfort only best friends seem to have. It’s clear they’ve known each other for a while. Seokmin, though, is less than amused by Seungkwan. His cheeks glow pink as he glares.

“Well, you are weird,” Seungkwan mutters.

“Alright, Seungkwan,” Seokmin says with a sigh.

“Okay, I’m off to the back to unload fertilizer.” He announces and you give him a polite wave as he turns to you, “It was nice to meet you.”

As Seungkwan heads out the back door, Seokmin lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head. The shop feels quieter, now that it's just you and him. It’s strange, but Seokmin finds himself oddly aware of the space between you two.

He glances over at you again, trying not to seem too obvious, but there’s something about the way you’re standing there—easy, comfortable, but somehow still pulling at him in a way he can’t ignore. His fingers hesitate over the vase in front of him, caught in the motion of arranging flowers but not quite focused on the task.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I guess you get to work in peace for now, huh?”

“Yeah, it seems that way.” Seokmin huffs. He takes a step toward you, to reach for something behind you. His hand brushes over a batch of roses, then pausing as if he’s suddenly unsure of the next move, painfully aware of how close he’s gotten. He clears his throat, the casual tone of his voice not quite matching the thoughts swirling in his mind. “So, um... you like flowers?”

You tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips. “Is that a serious question?”

“I-” Seokmin laughs softly, his fingers running over the petals of the flowers before grabbing them and attempting to focus on his station.

You lean a little closer, your voice light but playful. “Well, I like you, don’t I?” The way you say those words with a teasing tone makes Seokmin nearly choke, “So I kind of have to like flowers. Otherwise, how am I meant to hang around you?” You gesture at the shop.

Seokmin’s breath catches, and for a moment, he feels like he’s losing the thread of the conversation.

"I didn’t expect to find you working today. I didn’t even know the shop opened on Sundays," you say casually, glancing up at him. “I’m sure the flowers appreciate the extra attention.”

"I’m pretty good with the flowers, but I think they’d appreciate the company more if you came by more often."

You arch an eyebrow, “Oh? You think they’d enjoy my company more than yours?”

“I know Seungkwan would.” You laugh at this, and Seokmin revels in the sound, joining you.

After a pause, he shifts his attention back to the flowers, showing you the final product. “What do you think?”

“They’re pretty.”

“I think so, too.” He decides, not necessarily talking about the flowers, “Even though I was a little distracted.”

"Distractions can be good, though,"

"Well, you’re a pretty good distraction," he tries for the words to sound casual, but his tone betrays him. He also said it much quicker than he intended to, and he’s grateful for the chance to turn around while grabbing another pot because it offers him a means to hide his reddening cheeks.

You let the words hang in the air for a beat longer than usual, enjoying the teasing, the way it feels easy between you two. "Good to know," you reply, smirking.

Before Seokmin can respond, the door swings open and Seungkwan walks in again, wiping his hands on his apron and immediately launching into his usual dramatic self.

"I swear, I’ll never get used to that fertilizer smell," he complains, tossing his apron on a hook. He looks over at you and Seokmin, "Glad to know you two haven’t burned the place down."

You grin, "Not yet, but we’re working on it."

Seungkwan scoffs half-heartedly, glancing between you. "Nice to see him finally making some friends outside of the plants."

As Seungkwan heads toward the back, he gives you both a knowing look. “Don’t let him get too distracted, alright?” he calls over his shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll try my best.” You give Seokmin a wink and he shakes his head, showing you an idea for another potential bouquet.

The last hour passes seamlessly fast, now that you’re here. Before Seokmin knows it, you, him, and Seungkwan are locking up the store and parting ways from the blonde as the two of you walk side by side to the bus stop.

As he sits beside you on the bus later that night, looking over your shoulder at your collection of tapes for your walkman, he wrestles with the invitation that sits in the forefront of his mind. Spending time with you at the shop was great, but it somehow still feels like it follows your usual pattern. That, and Seungkwan’s presence, albeit lively and entertaining, keeps him from being able to spend as much time as he’d like with you—without the time constriction of a fifteen minute break or a forty minute bus ride. But like always, he decides to ask a different question in place of the one he really wants to.

“How come you use a walkman? I always meant to ask you.”

“I like the way the music sounds on it. I don’t know. It was my dad’s.” You smile warmly, “He used to let me borrow it when I was younger and I just kind of… inherited it.”

“It’s cool. Makes you look all mysterious. Like you’re from a different time.”

“You think?” He nods fervently, but your shoulders still sink in doubt as you fumble with the multicolored tapes. “Everything sounds nicer on it. When you listen to music on it, it’s like a mini time-machine. Or, it might just be me, I don’t know.”

“I’m sure it’s not just you. Here, let me try. Pick one for me.”

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards for a second as you ponder which song to play. Delicately, your fingers brush over each tape, hovering in thought like they had with the books on Mr. Kim’s shelf, until you finally land on one.

“It’s my favorite.” You tell him shyly, “I think you’ll like it.”

Carefully, you pull the cassette out of its case and click it into the audio player with a low snap. Seokmin watches as your hands slip the headset off from around your neck, watching as you shift in your seat and place them gently over his head. He tries not to think about how close your face is to his but… how can he not? You’ve leaned in to ensure that both spongy cushions are perfectly sat over his ears, and now you’re only a few inches away—close enough that he can catch the faint scent of your shampoo. It lingers, soft and floral, wrapping around him like the embrace of something he hadn’t realized he’d miss until you finally sat back, asking “ready?”

You press down on the play button and look up at him, eyes full of expectation.

There’s that familiar, comforting crackle of the cassette winding into motion, a sound that makes Seokmin feel as if he’s in an old-timey dream. And then, the music starts: your song—your favorite song—something you had chosen specifically for him to hear. Every note feels warm, intimate, melodic. For some reason, it temporarily diminishes his burning curiosity about you, but not because he finds himself any less intrigued, but because it finally feels like he’s taken a real peek inside your mind.

As someone who loves music, Seokmin is a firm believer that a person’s favorite song says a lot about them. The more it plays, the more he realizes that this song, in every sense of the word, is an extension of you.

As the melody flows, you watch him, eyes studying his reaction with that same teasing smile. You lean closer again, and he subconsciously holds his breath as you whisper, “Do you hear it?” He nods.

There’s a warmth in it, a rawness that makes it feel like more than just music. This was something deeply yours, a piece of your world that you were letting him in on, if only for a few minutes.

He listens with his eyes closed, letting himself drift along the rhythm, feeling the weight of each tone and key change and lyric the artist sings, full of intention. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds you still looking at him with a kind of question in your gaze, a quiet hope. The song fades out, but Seokmin keeps the headphones on for a second longer, letting the last notes dissolve into silence. He looks up again, meeting your gaze.

For a moment, he’s not sure what to say. Anything he could say feels too small, too plain for what he wants you to understand. So he starts with the only words that come out easily, his voice low and sincere. “I… I think I get it.” He pauses, then adds, “And this song… it feels like you.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, a playful gleam in your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask, though there’s a softness in your tone, like you’re hoping he’ll really answer.

He glances down at the walkman, watching your thumb tracing along the edge as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s just… this song is so warm. It’s like the way you laugh, the way you make everything feel a little bit lighter.” He feels his cheeks warm but keeps going, his words coming out before he can second-guess them. “It’s like a piece of you, and I can feel it, even with my eyes closed.”

You go still, your expression shifting, the playful smile that played on your lips softening into something more serious. Neither of you say anything for a moment.

The bus begins to slow, and you both glance out the window, realizing this is your stop. You reach up, fingers brushing his ear as you gently pull the headphones from him, careful not to disturb the sense of closeness still hanging in the air. You slide the walkman back into your bag, a little slower than necessary, as if that might make the night last, if just for a few seconds longer.

“This is me,” you say softly, feeling the finality in the words as the bus comes to a gentle stop and the doors sigh open. You start to stand but pause, glancing down at him one last time. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, as if he’s searching for the right thing to say, something more than just “goodbye.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, your voice soft, almost hopeful.

He nods, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah,” he says, gentle but certain. “Tomorrow.” You’re about to turn around when he adds, “but not here. I want to go somewhere else with you. I mean, if you want to, that is.” He finds his breath catching again, “The flower shop closes early on the weekends. I was thinking... Maybe we could go to the beach?”

With a grin playing on your lips, you nod, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Giving him one last glance, you turn and step off the bus, feeling the warmth of his gaze linger behind as you walk down the street. As the bus pulls away, you catch his face framed in the window, waving until you’re out of sight. And though the music has stopped, the tune of this moment plays on, promising something to carry with you both until tomorrow.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The sky stretches out in a hazy blue as Seokmin walks toward the beach, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. His fingers tap a nervous rhythm against its side as he looks around, hoping to spot you before you see him.

He barely slept the night before, having spent the better part of the morning hours contemplating and talking to himself with his guitar on his lap. It hadn’t been touched in nearly a year and a half, so he had to spend some time wiping it down, re-tuning it, and even fixing a string that had managed to come loose in the process.

He said he’d play for you, but then again, he hadn’t played for someone in a while and naturally, that made him extremely nervous, though that feeling didn’t even fully capture what he felt when he remembered he’d be playing for you. What would you think? Did you actually mean it when you said you wanted to hear him play? Or was that some automated response to boost his spirits? Would you even remember? It was weeks ago, on the first day at the coffee shop. Needless to say, he mulled over it endlessly.

Seokmin sighs, trying to calm himself down. By now, he had to slip off his shoes that were sinking in the cool sand, so he chooses to focus on the sensation of it against his skin instead of overthinking any longer.

He finally spots you standing by the water, arms wrapped around yourself as a light breeze blows through your hair. When you turn and see him, your face brightens, and that smile of yours—bright and open—fills him with warmth instantly. “Is that—” you begin, your eyes widening as you notice the guitar.

“Thought it was time,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal despite his heart thundering as he sets the guitar down and dusts off a spot in the sand beside you. You sit next to him eagerly, your excitement spilling out in the way you lean closer, eyes sweeping between him and the guitar case, as if you’re finally being let in on a long-held secret. And, in a way, you are.

He stretches his legs out, digging his heels into the cool sand. He watches you rummage through the tote bag beside you, and a curious smile tugs at his lips.

“You came prepared,” he chuckles, watching as you pull out a couple of neatly wrapped sandwiches and a small container of fruit.

“Of course I did,” you say with a smile, offering him a sandwich and holding out the fruit container. “I figured we’d get hungry eventually.” You shrug, glancing out toward the waves. “Besides, I thought it would be nice to have a little picnic.”

Seokmin accepts the sandwich with a grin, unwrapping it and taking a bite. He’s pleasantly surprised by the fresh crunch of lettuce and the perfect balance of flavors. “Did you make these?” he asks between bites, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, a bit of pride flashing in your eyes. “I did. You think I’d risk buying store-bought for a beach day?”

“Touché,” he laughs, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit container you’ve placed between you. “Honestly, this is already ten times better than what I packed.” He gestures vaguely to a plastic bottle and an uninspired granola bar that now seem almost laughable compared to your carefully prepared spread.

The sun has settled lower in the sky, casting the beach in a soft, golden haze. Seokmin leans back, resting his hands behind him as he glances over at you, a lazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. The two of you have polished off the sandwiches, and now the empty wrappers lie folded beside the fruit container. He pops one last grape into his mouth, savoring the refreshing sweetness as he watches you tuck the food away with a little, satisfied sigh.

“So, did I earn any points for bringing the snacks?” you tease, dusting a few crumbs from your hands before looking over at him expectantly.

Seokmin laughs, squinting a little in the sunlight as he tilts his head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I’ll give you extra points for the sandwiches. But for the fruit,” he says, grabbing a couple of the last grapes with a mischievous smile, “I think you’ll need to try a little harder.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, leaning back beside him. “You’re just mad you didn’t think to bring anything.”

“Maybe,” he admits, laughing as he looks out at the waves. “But next time, I’ll bring something better.”

“Alright, big shot,” you say with a smirk, crossing your arms. “What’s on the menu then? A charcuterie board?”

“Definitely,” he says, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “Maybe even some tiny, fancy desserts, the ones that look way too pretty to eat.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to impress someone.” You raise an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air just long enough that Seokmin can’t miss the playful edge in your tone. Not like he could have missed it anyway, with the way he hangs on your every word.

He laughs again, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks. “Hey, I’m just saying I know how to put together a memorable picnic,” he says, attempting a casual shrug. “But, you know, only if you’re there to witness it.”

You grin, unable to help the smile that breaks through at his subtle, almost shy attempt at flirting. “I’d hate to miss such an extravagant spread,” you reply, matching his casual tone with your own. “Guess you’ll have to invite me.”

Seokmin pretends to think it over, tapping his chin. “Hmm, alright, you’re in. But no backing out,” he says, his smile widening. “I’m holding you to this.”

There’s an ease between you, a lightness in the conversation that feels effortless, and for a while, the two of you just sit there, chatting about nothing and everything. He asks you about your favorite places to visit and listens as you share stories about the other hobbies you have. In return, you ask how he met Seungkwan, and he tells you about him and Soonyoung, recounting each memory he has made with them with an enthusiasm that makes you feel like you were right there with him.

Then, as the conversation dips, he glances down at the guitar case beside him. He reaches for it almost absentmindedly, brushing his fingers along the edge of the case, but there’s a faint look of hesitation in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“You don’t have to, even if you brought it all the way out here. It’s up to you.”

Seokmin lets out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he glances away. He’s more grateful for your patience than you could ever know.

“Yeah… I haven’t really played in a while,” he admits, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s been over two years, actually. I brought it… Well, because I think it’s about time I get back into the habit.” He trails off, watching the waves again, his mind flickering to a different time, a different place, one he’s not sure he’s ready to revisit.

There’s a quiet understanding in your eyes as you nod. You don’t press him, don’t ask for more details. Instead, you just let the silence stretch out between you, the sound of the ocean filling the space where words might have gone. It’s almost as if you’re giving him permission to take his time, to decide for himself if this is something he wants to do.

After a moment, he takes a breath, exhaling slowly. “I used to play a lot, actually,” he says, almost to himself. “Just… haven’t felt like it in a while.”

The air feels thick with unspoken things, but Seokmin pushes past it, fingers brushing the guitar case almost impulsively. The weight of the past lingers for a second, but with a quick glance at you, he lets go of the hesitation clinging to him. This is different, he reminds himself. This isn’t for anyone else, no memories he needs to cling to. Just the open beach, the sun dipping low, and you, waiting beside him with a patient, easy smile.

He pulls the guitar from its case, its weight grounding him, though it feels different today than it had last night. It’s less scary, now that he’s with you.

He glances over at you, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, your eyes wide, leaning just close enough for him to catch the faint, floral hint of you drifting in the salt-laced air.

Seokmin strums the first couple of notes, letting the music rise and blend with the gentle crash of the waves. His fingers move on instinct, but his mind is all on you, capturing every little reaction—the way your eyes soften, the way your shoulders relax, reassuring him that his music is something you’ve been waiting to hear. He’s suddenly very relieved.

“I wrote this a few years back. It’s… Well, yeah. I think the lyrics speak for themselves.”

It takes a few seconds and one or two badly played chords for him to regain a little bit of the confidence he had lost some time ago. But his fingers find their place quickly enough, and he parts his lips to sing.

As Seokmin's voice fills the space between you, soft and hesitant at first, he notices the subtle shift in your expression. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, brows lifting in quiet surprise as if you hadn’t really expected him to sing so well. There’s a moment of stillness, only filled with his voice, warm and unpolished, floating in the air.

Your gaze flickers to and from him, watching the way his lips move to form each syllable, and then back to the water, where the waves blur in a streak of light. You can’t help but notice the way his face softens when he sings, his features loosening as he melts into the words.

You look back at him, your lips parting in surprise. There’s a shy kind of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth, like you're unsure if it’s okay to smile just yet, but the quiet joy you feel is evident in the warmth that floods your chest. You tilt your head slightly, caught between admiration and a soft, disbelieving smile.

I should’ve told you I’m in love with you

Then I wouldn’t have been regretting right now

The longer you listen, the more the words he’s written seem bound to him, something like an itch he couldn’t reach. You find your lips curving upward again, but there’s a sad sentiment behind your smile this time, eyes full with a kind of quiet affection. Something tugs at your heart just then, causing your brows to furrow slightly. Maybe it’s from the lyrics he wrote, or maybe it’s the simple, unguarded way he sings, you’re not entirely sure.

When he looks up, your gaze meets his, soft and steady. You don’t speak when he finishes. Instead, you reach over, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers as light as the spring breeze.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and in that moment, Seokmin realizes he doesn’t need to say anything at all.

You sit back, letting the sound of the water fill the space between you, the silence stretching just long enough for Seokmin to look out at the horizon, his fingers still idly plucking at the strings of his guitar. His expression has changed slightly, distant, like he's somewhere else for a moment, lost in thought.

You turn toward him, studying his profile. “Why don’t you play anymore?” you ask softly, not wanting to break the calm vulnerability of the moment, but still unable to ignore the quiet curiosity rising inside you. “I mean, you’re really good. Why keep it to yourself?”

He freezes for a second, his mindless strumming halting abruptly. He exhales, the sound almost like a sigh.

“I used to,” he begins to explain. His voice is quiet, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Back when I had someone to play for. It didn’t work out.” He swallows thickly. “She… She had been hooking up with her best friend practically since we got together.”

You wait, letting him speak, but his lips press together for a moment, unsure if he should say more. His gaze turns toward the ocean, but there’s a shift in his eyes, which are normally so kind and full of spirit—something like a hard edge, as if a memory he had thought of has sharpened into something more painful. “I played for her all the time.”

You can’t hide the surprise that flashes in your eyes, and Seokmin glances at you. He doesn’t want pity. He’s not asking for it.

“I stopped playing after that,” he continues, “It just... didn’t feel the same anymore. It was something I gave to someone who didn’t deserve it.” He shrugs, as if the words are too heavy for him to carry all at once.

You can feel the hurt in the air, hanging around him like a shadow. You want to reach out, but you don’t know how to offer comfort without crossing a line, so you just sit still beside him, close enough that he can feel your presence but far enough to give him space.

And at the time, you didn’t know it, but for him, it was enough.

After a long pause, you finally say, “I’m sorry. That’s... that’s a lot.”

He nods, and the tightness in his jaw softens slightly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little steadier. “But... maybe it’s okay.” Seokmin’s eyes flicker to you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Today felt right, you know. Playing for someone who’s actually listening.”

And in the quiet that follows, he feels something shift between you, the weight of unspoken things starting to lift.

“Seokmin,” you say, your voice gentle, as if careful not to disrupt the quiet peace he’s settled into. He can tell you’re about to say something, maybe offer some comforting words about his story, but he’s already lost in thought.

It hits him, then, so suddenly it almost makes him laugh at himself. The way the late afternoon light catches in your hair, the soft curve of your smile, the way you’re watching him with that steady, thoughtful gaze. It’s all so striking that it feels like something he’s never noticed before, and yet it feels so familiar at the same time.

He decides then, that this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked.

Suddenly convinced you might be able to read his mind, he clears his throat, feeling a warmth creeping up his neck as he looks back down at the guitar, trying to hide the smile that’s fighting its way to his face. He wants to say it—wants to tell you that you look beautiful, that sitting here with you feels like some kind of dream he didn’t know he was allowed to have. But the words don’t come out; they sit, caught in his throat, trapped by the sudden nervousness that’s settled over him.

Instead, he finds himself brushing a hand over the guitar strings again, as if that small action might keep him grounded. “Thanks… for listening,” he manages, hoping it’ll distract from the fact that he can feel his cheeks warming.

You smile, nodding gently, still looking at him in that quiet, understanding way, and it only makes him want to blurt it out more. But for now, he lets the moment stretch, watching as you lean back in the sand, your gaze shifting back to the waves. The sun is sinking lower, and everything is bathed in that soft, warm light that makes the world feel as if it’s been suspended in time. And Seokmin realizes, right then and there, that this is one of those good memories he’ll hold on to; one he doesn’t intend to forget any time soon.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It starts with a simple conversation over coffee, the two of you tucked into a cozy corner booth at the cafe, each with a steaming cup in hand as usual. It has become the norm, seeing you like this, nearly every morning and evening. Seokmin stirs a bit more sugar into his drink despite the crazed look you give him, then glances up at you with a warm, toothy smile as you tell him about your latest read. He leans in, listening intently, nodding as if every word you say is the most fascinating thing he’s heard all week.

When you pause, taking a sip of your drink, he takes a chance to jump in, “You know, I’ve been meaning to go to the art museum downtown. It’s supposed to have this new exhibit.” He hesitates, looking down at his cup for a moment, then back at you with a shy, hopeful glint in his eyes. “If… you’d want to check it out with me?”

You perk up at the suggestion, grinning. “I’d love that! Museums are kind of my weakness.”

Relieved, he chuckles, “Then we’re in good company,” he says, the words coming out a little softer than he intends. He clears his throat, trying to play it cool, but his heart beats a little faster as you chuckle.

“Alright, Mr. Museum,” you say, teasing. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Great,” he replies, glancing out the window at the overcast sky. “How about today, then?”

With a nod, you grab your things, sliding out of the booth as Seokmin hurriedly follows, waving goodbye to Joshua. As you both step out onto the sidewalk, he can’t help the familiar rush of excitement at the thought of spending the rest of the day with you. The two of you stroll side by side down the bustling street, exchanging small talk and the occasional smile, his heart lifting with every step closer to the city.

The walk to the museum is a mixture of laughter, subtle glances, and playful nudges that neither of you can seem to resist. The air is crisp, a light breeze tugging at your sleeves as the two of you meander down the busy street, dodging the occasional cyclist or dog walker. Every few steps, one of you makes a half-serious comment—maybe about the art you’re about to see, maybe about the bizarre mannequin display in a shop window you pass—and it doesn’t take long before both of you dissolve into laughter, your steps momentarily slowed as you lean into each other, trying to catch your breath.

Seokmin, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, finds himself glancing your way more often than he’d like to admit, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear or lift your face to the sky for a second, enjoying the clouds. He doesn’t know why he feels like a kid right now, heart skipping with each shared smile and laugh, but he can’t seem to shake it. The closeness of walking side by side with you makes him almost giddy.

At one point, you nudge him with your elbow, a light-hearted challenge in your eyes as you try to keep a straight face. “So,” you say, feigning seriousness, “ready to become cultured?”

He rolls his eyes, laughing as he nudges you right back. “Please.”

Seokmin steps into the museum lobby with you by his side, wandering across the high ceilings and polished floors. There’s almost a sacred quietness to the place, the kind that makes every sound seem amplified, even the shuffle of your footsteps.

You hand him a ticket that you get from the booth, brushing his hand lightly, and he tries to hide his smile, hoping you don’t notice the faint flush that blooms in his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous; he always is around you, but he never knows why. Somehow today, he’s more nervous than other days. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, or maybe it’s just you—standing there beside him, glancing around with the same sort of wide-eyed curiosity that makes him want to see everything through your eyes.

The two of you wander through the galleries, pausing in front of each painting and sculpture, taking your time. Every so often, you glance at him to see his reaction to something particularly strange or fascinating, and catch him already looking back, smiling at your expressions just as much as he is admiring the art.

“Do you think they meant to paint it like this?” you ask, leaning closer to a particularly loud modern piece that’s all bright, chaotic lines. Your voice is soft, as though you’re afraid of disturbing the tranquility.

Seokmin leans closer, squinting as if trying to unravel some secret meaning, though he hasn’t a clue what he’s looking at. “Maybe they were just… feeling inspired,” he replies, lips quirking with a grin he can’t suppress.

“Or maybe they dropped their paintbrush,” you add, matching his grin.

The sound of your laughter echoes slightly in the otherwise silent gallery, and for a moment, he’s aware of how close you’re standing. The space feels smaller, and though there are other visitors around, it feels for a moment like the museum is yours alone. You move on to the next painting, your eyes bright with curiosity, and he follows, longing to shorten the distance once more.

He notices a stray piece of hair that’s slipped from behind your ear, and without thinking, he lifts a hand to tuck it back. But at the last second, he hesitates, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder as he pulls his hand back, a shy red spreading over his complexion. You don’t seem to notice, lost in thought as you step closer to the next painting, tilting your head to take it all in.

At one point, you point out a painting of a starry sky, something dreamlike. “Imagine being under a sky like that,” you murmur, almost to yourself, your gaze soft and wondrous as you look at the canvas.

More and more often throughout the visit to the museum, Seokmin finds himself staring at you instead of the exhibits. On this specific one, he can’t seem to look away from your face, your expression so captivated, as if you’re somewhere far away.

“Maybe one day we can find a place like that,” he says softly, almost not meaning to say it aloud. When you turn to look at him, a bit surprised, he clears his throat, pretending to be suddenly very interested in reading the placard beside the artwork.

Seokmin finds himself feeling almost weightless, caught up in the dizzying whirlwind of his own thoughts for a minute. There’s something about you—something he can’t quite put a name to—that makes him feel like he’s constantly walking on a tightrope, and with each step, he’s leaning a little further in, a step closer to letting go of the balance he’s tried for so long to keep.

You whisper an eager “come on,” and grab his sleeve to drag him further into the maze of galleries.

As you wander into a room filled with ancient statues, he catches you examining one with a particularly serious expression. “Thinking of getting one of these for your place?” he teases.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Only if you help me carry it,” you reply, and he finds himself grinning again.

Soon, you reach a new room, filled with work from the Renaissance, each painting rich with detail and vibrant colors that have held their vibrancy for centuries. You lean in slightly, admiring the delicate brushstrokes, and Seokmin watches you, his gaze drifting from the artwork to the fascinated look in your eyes—possibly for the hundredth time today.

“I feel like I’m supposed to be having some deep, life-changing revelation right now,” he whispers by your ear, half-joking.

“Who says art has to be that serious? Sometimes, it’s just… pretty.”

You’re just pretty.

As you move through the quiet museum halls together, Seokmin catches himself watching you again, realizing just how pretty you look in the warm glow of the exhibit lights. It’s not the first time he's felt this way; he remembers the flutter in his chest when you’d gone to the beach, and the way his thoughts had lingered a little too long on the curve of your smile. He watches as you lean a bit closer to a painting, eyes narrowing in focus, oblivious to his gaze. There’s a calmness to you here, the way you examine each piece as if it holds a secret, and he finds himself drawn to the little things: the way your fingers rest on your chin in thought, the faint lift of your brows when something catches your eye, and the gentle concentration in your expression.

He watches you for longer this time, taking advantage of the fact that you’ve busied yourself reading a plaque, and noticing things he hadn’t paid attention to before right now: today, your smiles linger a little longer, your laughter rings out just a bit brighter, and he finds himself captivated by these subtleties, like he's uncovering new pieces of you with each glance. When you look at him, eyes crinkling in a way he hadn’t dared imagine was just for him, his heart stirs, and he can’t shake the thought: Have you always been this lovely, or am I just starting to see it now?

His mind drifts, painting scenes of possibilities—fleeting, half-formed images of laughter, of late nights talking, of small moments shared just between the two of you. Each image feels almost real, so vivid he can practically reach out and touch it.

There’s a spark in his chest, a sensation that’s both exhilarating and terrifying. Part of him wants to pull back, to reel himself in, a quiet warning in the back of his mind whispering not to get carried away like he had before. But he can’t help it; there’s something magnetic about this, about you, something that pulls him closer despite himself.

He steals another glance at you, his heart racing as he does. You’re just looking at the art around you, as though this is any other day, but for him, it feels monumental. His thoughts get lost again, imagining what it might be like to hold your hand right now, to simply be beside you without any of this hesitation.

And then, you look at him and laugh, catching him staring, and his ears go red, a little embarrassed but somehow happy to be caught.

By the time you reach the last hall of artwork, the sun has started to set outside, casting a warm glow through the large windows. Seokmin watches as the light catches in your eyes, making them shine in a way that leaves him a little breathless. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you look around.

As you both step outside into the cool evening air, he catches your eye, intentionally this time, his smile small but genuine. “Thanks for coming here with me,” he says, his voice soft, almost shy.

“Anytime,” you reply, and the word feels like a promise.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The night starts with laughter and neon lights as Seokmin leads you through the bustling street to the karaoke room, his two friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, trailing just behind and rambling on about something indiscernible. The place is lively, bursting with music from rooms down the hall, each one echoing snippets of songs and off-key shouts.

Seokmin can’t help but beam when he sees how easily you fall into conversation with his friends, joining in their jokes and even taking a dig at Seungkwan when he hypes himself up as the “true vocal talent” of the group. Having heard Seokmin sing just a few weeks back, you couldn’t help but feel defensive on his behalf.

Once everyone’s settled, drinks start flowing freely. The first few songs are cautious, each of you easing into the familiar, buzzing rhythm of karaoke night. But as the night goes on, any sense of shyness melts away in the glow of pulsing lights and laughter.

Seokmin watches with undeniable fondness as you and Seungkwan bicker over song selections, and he tries not to grin too widely when he catches you belting out the lyrics with Soonyoung during a duet.

At some point, he notices how naturally you fit with his friends—the way you make Seungkwan laugh with a remark about his questionable song choices, or how you nod along enthusiastically as Soonyoung gives a dramatic toast, proclaiming you as “one of them now.” For Seokmin, it’s everything he hadn’t realized he wanted: his closest friends getting along with you.

As the night hums along, Seokmin picks up the microphone, sending you a lopsided, slightly tipsy smile that makes your heart flutter before selecting a song. His choice surprises you—it’s one of those classic ballads that’s probably too high for anyone but the original singer to sing. The melody starts slow, and his voice flows soft and easy, but with a control that reminds you just how talented he really is. You practically feel your admiration soar, and as you watch him, his hazy, glossed over eyes settle on you.

Every so often, he adds a bit of exaggerated flair, trying to coax a laugh out of you, playfully stretching out the notes or adding dramatic hand gestures to match the lyrics. It’s impossible not to smile, and you feel yourself relax as his antics draw you in. The song suddenly feels a little less serious, a little more fun, as he throws in a wink here, a knowing grin there.

As he finishes, you clap, unable to hide your smile. "You know," you say, a little breathless, "it’s honestly unfair that you’re this good."

He laughs, cheeks pink from both the praise and the drinks. “What can I say? Talent just comes naturally,” he jokes, a little bolder, that playful gleam returning to his eyes. Then he looks at you, his expression softening. “How about we do one together?”

“Oh no,” you protest with a laugh, shaking your head, “I can’t follow that.”

“Come on,” he coaxes, handing you a microphone and grabbing you by your hand to pull you to your feet, “I’ll sing the verses, you can handle the chorus. It'll be easy.”

With a mix of reluctance and excitement, both of which mix together with the alcohol in your system, you take the mic, scrolling through songs until you settle on something you both know—The music starts, and the two of you exchange a grin before starting.

At first, you both sing a little awkwardly, tipsy laughter interrupting every other line as you stumble over the lyrics and try not to trip over each other’s parts. But as the song goes on, you find a rhythm, and every so often, Seokmin leans into the mic to harmonize with you, his voice blending with yours. By the end, you’re both laughing, the microphones forgotten as you clutch your sides and stumble around, out of breath and giddy.

Seokmin looks at you, eyes bright, face flushed, smile so wide that you could count his teeth if you wanted to. He reaches out, touching your hand ever so lightly, his fingers warm and steady. “You did amazing,” he says, voice soft, his smile a little shy despite everything.

“Likewise,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you that’s more than just the drinks. And as you both sit there, you realize that there’s other people in the room.

Before you even have time to catch your breath, Soonyoung jumps up, grabbing the microphone. “Move over!” he declares with a grin, completely ignoring the indignant look Seungkwan shoots at him as he stands up to join him. “It’s duet time for real now.”

Seungkwan, rolling his eyes, snatches the other mic and leans in with a smirk. “Prepare yourselves. You two are about to be outshined.” He cues up a song with exaggerated flair, and the upbeat tune starts, loud and impossible to take seriously as they start belting the opening lines completely off-time.

“They’re usually better than this,” Seokmin tells you, “especially Seungkwan. I think it’s the alcohol.”

You laugh as you watch the pair start to coordinate with each other, finally managing to sing to the beat of the song.

“It’s good!” You argue, “Are you all just super talented?”

Seungkwan’s voice suddenly cuts through, loudly. “Hey! I can’t hear myself over you two!” He shoots you both a look, his mock glare breaking into a grin as Soonyoung pulls him back to belt out the chorus.

Seokmin shakes his head, laughing as he leans in closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “I warned you about them, didn’t I?” he says, his voice soft, he’s close enough that you feel his breath beside you, gaze lingering as he speaks. He’s a little past the point of tipsy, cheeks and nose slightly flushed, but somehow the hazy glow of the karaoke lights makes him look even softer, easier to smile at.

You giggle, feeling a little light-headed yourself, but whether it’s from the drinks or the warmth radiating between the two of you, you’re not entirely sure. Your eyes subconsciously bat at him as they trace his features, tugging at his heartstrings as Soonyoung and Seungkwan sing with wild abandon in the background.

Seokmin’s arm rests casually on the back of the booth behind you. “You know,” he murmurs, leaning just a bit closer, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The words are simple, but somehow they send a warmth spreading through you, making the whole room seem to slow down. “Me too,” you say, a little shy but meeting his gaze, feeling that same unspoken something settle around you.

Then, somewhere between another toast and Soonyoung’s next drink, things start to get a little fuzzy for him. Soonyoung has, predictably, taken things a bit too far, eyes glazed as he sways to the music, occasionally belting out lyrics that don’t match the song on screen. Seungkwan sighs knowingly, standing and giving Seokmin a helpless shrug. “I’m taking him home before he tries to start chugging Soju.” He nods at you, adding with a smirk, “Good luck with this one.” And then, with a wave, they’re gone, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room, half-empty drinks scattered on the table.

Alone with you now, Seokmin’s pulse races, the soft glow of tipsiness making him feel both bold and nervous. The room feels quieter, somehow more intimate, with just the two of you here. He reaches for the remote, scrolling through song choices, trying to keep his eyes on the screen and not on the way you’re leaning back on the couch, your gaze drifting over to him with a glint he can’t quite decipher.

“Do you want to pick the last one?” he asks, his voice a little more shy than he intended.

You smile, shrugging casually, but he doesn’t miss the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Only if you promise not to laugh if I butcher it.”

He grins, feeling his own face warm. “I make no promises,” he teases. But there’s something in his gaze—a hint of anticipation that he can’t quite hide, even if he tries.

As you start singing, he watches, captivated by the way you let loose, tipsy confidence making you bolder. The words are a little off-key, your voice rising and falling with the tempo, but to him, it’s perfect. When you’re finished, he can’t help but clap, cheering as if he’s at a concert.

“You sounded amazing,” he says, his voice softer than the playful bravado he’d intended. He feels a little too exposed under your gaze, a little too aware of just how close you’re sitting.

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply with an exaggerated bow, but your eyes linger on his a little longer than they should, and the tension between you feels thick, heavy with possibility.

He clears his throat, laughing nervously. “You’re going to put me out of a job with that voice.” But his words sound almost sincere.

There’s a lull in the conversation, a quiet beat where neither of you says anything, just looking at each other, the warmth of the drinks and the moment settling over both of you. You move a little closer, your knee brushing against his, and Seokmin swears he feels his heart stutter.

“Seokmin,” you say, voice barely a whisper, eyes bright with that boldness that only alcohol can provide.

“Yeah?” His voice comes out breathier than he intended, and he has to resist the urge to reach for your hand.

You smile, almost shyly, but there’s a warmth in your gaze that reassures him. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had… a really great time.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. His hand, almost on instinct, drifts a little closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your knuckles.

As you step out of the karaoke bar, the cool night air feels refreshing, and Seokmin falls into an easy rhythm beside you. The streets are quiet, the lights soft and glowing, casting a warm hue on everything around you. He insists on walking you home, and you can see a bit of that familiar determination in his expression—a mix of sweetness and subtle nerves, the kind that makes him even harder not to smile at.

The two of you talk softly as you walk, laughter spilling into the night as you recount moments from earlier, but the conversation drifts into a quiet calm. Seokmin feels a little tipsy, though he knows it’s not solely the drinks making him feel this way. It’s the warmth in your laugh, the way your gaze lights up when you look at him. Everything feels a little brighter, softer, like the world’s colors are blurring into a hazy glow.

Eventually, you pause, looking over at the buildings below the hill you’ve climbed, and above them, the faint sparkle of stars cutting through the city’s glow. Seokmin stops beside you, following your gaze, but when he looks back down, it’s not the skyline he’s mesmerized by. It’s you, standing there with that quiet, contemplative look in your eyes.

At that moment, he’s overwhelmed. Something about this night, this moment, feels like a dream—one he’s afraid might slip away if he blinks too long. He wants to say something, to tell you how lovely you look standing there, bathed in city lights. He can feel his heart pounding. He’s been trying to find the right words for some time now, something that could capture the feeling building up in his chest when he’s with you. He’s not sure if it’s the night, the laughter still echoing in his mind, or just the way you’re looking up at the sky. Before he can overthink himself out of it, he takes a breath and speaks, his voice just a little unsteady. “You know… you look beautiful right now.”

It’s the first time he’s said something so openly to you, and he can feel his cheeks heat up the second the words are out. You turn to him, a bit taken aback, your eyes wide with surprise before a smile slowly spreads across your face, soft and a little shy.

The moment stretches between you, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with laughter or play it off. He’s content just looking at you, watching that glow in your eyes as his words settle in.

A soft laugh escapes you, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down for a second before glancing back up at him. “I was going to say the same about you.”

He can’t help but laugh, his own nervousness melting away a little. You both stand there, caught in the gentle pull between you, feeling a little bolder, a little lighter.

When you start walking again, his hand brushes against yours, and this time he doesn’t pull away, letting his fingers linger close enough that if you reached out, they’d intertwine. It’s a simple gesture, but it says everything he’s been holding back, and as you walk together through the quiet streets, he knows something has shifted.

The stone path thuds beneath your footsteps, clumsy and unsteady as you both navigate the uneven terrain, sharing quiet laughter over your shared lack of coordination. Seokmin, glancing down, suddenly stops.

"Look!" he says, his finger pointing at a small penny on the ground, glinting faintly in the light. “What’s this doing all the way out here? Take it. For good luck.”

You shake your head, amused, and explain, “It’s only good luck if it’s face up when you find it.”

“Ah.” Seokmin considers this, then immediately drops into a crouch, carefully flipping the coin over so Lincoln’s head is proudly facing the sky. He straightens up with a grin as if he’s just accomplished something important.

“What’d you do that for?” you ask, your tone laced with affection.

“Now someone else can have good luck,” he replies.

You feel something warm tug at you in response, watching him as he stands there, content with his small gesture of kindness. Suddenly, you see very clearly the kind of person Lee Seokmin is. It’s so like him—turning even the smallest, most mundane thing into something significant. As he begins walking ahead, you linger just a moment, looking back at the coin on the ground, then up at him.

You don’t move to follow him. Seokmin halts, slightly startled, his gaze questioning as he glances at you. But before he can ask why, you step closer, closing the space between you. You’re both quiet, caught in a bubble of giddy anticipation, his eyes searching yours, wide with surprise. And then, without a word, you reach up, resting a hand lightly on his chest, and lean in.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like everything else falls away, replaced by a feeling that’s as soft as it is electric. He lets out a small, breathless laugh amidst his shock, hands stuck to his sides as your mouth presses to his.

When you pull back, you find him grinning, a little dazed, his eyes bright with surprise. Then he closes the space again, meeting your lips in another kiss, quick but more eager, like he’s savoring the feeling.

And then another. His hand drifts to your waist, drawing you in just a little closer each time your lips meet, each kiss growing a little bolder, a little sweeter, until the space between you disappears entirely. By the fourth kiss, his fingers have settled at the small of your back, warm and sure, and this time he lingers, letting the kiss deepen. It’s slow, unhurried, something unknown flooding through him as he feels your hand slide up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you so you can taste his mouth with ease.

You both feel a little unsteady, leaning into each other for balance, your hands anchoring each other as the world spins quietly around you. His heart races, thrumming against yours, and there’s a shy smile on his face when he finally pulls away, keeping his forehead close to yours, his eyes searching yours, dazed and happy and overcome with affection.

“I… I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, his voice a little unsteady but full of quiet excitement.

“I wasn’t planning it,” you admit, your cheeks flushed, but you don’t pull away, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, you both just stand there, eyes locked, breaths mingling in the cool night air, as if tethered to each other by an invisible string. Then, without thinking, you lean back in, your lips finding his once more. This time, there's no hesitation, no pause, just a shared need to be close—as close as possible. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you in with a touch that’s both careful and desperate, as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

He lets out a quiet laugh against your lips, a sound that’s soft and breathless. It makes you laugh too, and you pull back for a moment, catching your breath, only to find his lips chasing after yours again. There’s something almost frantic in the way you keep returning to each other, like you’re both overwhelmed by the discovery of this closeness, unable to let it end just yet.

His hand moves gently to the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the tenderness in his touch, in the way he’s holding onto you.

His voice is barely a whisper, warm and a little breathless. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His words, shy and sincere, only pull you closer. Hand in hand, you start walking, the quiet night around you filled only by the soft sounds of your steps. He keeps his grip loose, fingers intertwined with yours, thumb brushing along the side of your hand as if he can’t bear to let go ever again. You walk in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering touches, both of you stealing glances, unable to stop smiling.

Every so often, he pauses, as if some thread is tugging him back to you. He leans in to press a brief kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw, reeling over the way your eyes flutter closed from the feeling, and before you know it, his lips are back on yours. You laugh against his mouth, feeling both light-headed and grounded in a way that’s wholly new and otherworldly. He pulls back with a grin, his eyes crinkling, looking both bashful and thrilled, like he can’t believe this is real. You’re unreal, you have to be. A fabrication of his imagination, so delicate, so perfect, so you.

As you continue walking, his arm slips around your shoulders, drawing you closer to his side. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and the quiet contentment that settles over you feels as natural as breathing. When he stumbles slightly, you catch him, and he grins sheepishly, pulling you close again in a half-hug that turns into yet another kiss.

“I might never get home at this point,” You say breathlessly.

“Would that be so bad?” Each word is mumbled into your mouth as his fingers weave into your hair, holding the back of your neck and letting his tongue shyly lick your bottom lip.

The hum that you let out, either as a response to his rhetorical question or his tongue now moving against yours, makes his head spin. Your nails, raking down his chest over the material of his shirt, your hips pressing to his—it’s all too much and at the same time, not enough.

The closer you get to your doorstep, the slower your steps become, as if prolonging the walk will somehow stretch this night just a little further. Every so often, Seokmin pulls you close, and you laugh as he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, each one deeper and more unhurried than the last.

Neither of you speak, as if words would break the fragile spell cast over the night. Instead, you stand there, wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft, dizzying kisses that grow lazier, more lingering.

There’s a pause, a beat of hesitation, as he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and soft, and he murmurs, “I should probably let you go.” But even as he says it, his hand remains on your cheek as if he’s not quite ready to leave.

“Probably,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his, but neither of you moves. It takes a moment, maybe two, before he reluctantly lets out a quiet laugh and pulls away, his hand slipping from your cheek to squeeze your hand, holding onto you just a moment longer. He gives you one last look, filled with a warmth and tenderness that leaves you breathless.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks softly, already a few steps down the hall, as though he’s hoping for just one more promise to look forward to.

“Soon,” you reply, smiling as he finally lets go of your hand and steps back, his gaze lingering on you as he walks away. You watch him go, the warmth of his kisses still lingering, the last few moments of the night settling over you as you turn to head inside, feeling light, tipsy, and wonderfully, utterly alive.

[click here to continue]

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danidrawsstuff · 1 year ago

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rdr3 is confirmed so here's a young hoeslaya matthews because a girl can dream u know

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanart #hosea matthews #i saw the tag hoeslaya on a piece of art and i ascended #had my first day back in school and finished homework #needed to reward myself with everyone's favorite conman #i am so extremely normal about the gilfs of the vdl gang

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tunatoge · 1 year ago

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little lunch mishap - s. gojo x reader

contents: fem!reader (called mom/momma), mentions of eating, gojo sucks at packing lunches for his kids, written a little after gojo finds megumi and tsumiki

when gojo first met megumi, he’d made sure his infinity was on; he had you and shoko throw random things at him from across the field with and without cursed energy to make sure it worked properly. now, two years later, he doesn’t even realize that it’s off around the seven-year-old kid—not until megumi nails him in the face with an unripe clementine.

“ow!” gojo exclaims, bringing his hand up to his cheek as he lets his sunglasses clatter to the floor. “what was that for, megs?”

megumi glares at gojo, holding a softer and riper clementine in his grasp. you glance over at them from the kitchen as they stare each other down.

“that was the fruit you put in my lunch,” megumi grumbles as he sinks his little fingers into his ripe clementine. “i know you packed it ‘cause mom normally peels them for me.”

“okay,” gojo starts as he leans over and picks up the clementine megumi threw at him, the skin split and the sticky juice dripping all over the tiled floor and his hands. he places the ruined fruit on the counter, bending over again and picking up his sunglasses. “momma had a mission this morning, so me—your amazing and awesome dad—packed your lunch and tsumiki’s,” gojo says with gritted teeth, putting unnecessary stress on the word ‘dad’. “and by the way,” he adds as an afterthought, “tsumiki ate all of her’s.” gojo puffs his chest triumphantly, settling his glasses back onto his face.

you glance at tsumiki as she does her homework, stifling your laughter when a small grimace washes over her features.

“was it that bad?” you ask her in a quiet whisper, making sure gojo and megumi don’t hear you.

tsumiki looks up at you and nods, “satoru made us sandwiches but i think he used the bread that you told him to throw out; it was kind of moldy.” she takes in your wide eyes and adds: “i didn’t eat it, i threw it away.”

you let out a relieved sigh, turning back around to pick up a plate of sliced apples and a cup of peanut butter. you place it down on the kitchen island next to tsumiki as she thanks you. megumi finishes shoving his peeled clementine in his mouth, passing the peel off to gojo as he takes a seat next to his sister.

“are you making lunch tomorrow for school?” he asks you, picking up an apple slice and taking a bite out of it.

you hum in response, scooping out some marshmallow fluff fruit dip you’d made a few days ago. you set it in front of gojo who begrudgingly reaches over and takes an apple slice. you stop megumi from slapping the fruit out of gojo’s hand.

“hey! it wasn’t that bad,” gojo insists through a mouthful of apple. megumi looks at him in disgust. “you had veggies, fruits, and a main meal! i even packed a snack in there!”

you sigh, “‘gumi, what did satoru pack you?”

megumi wipes his hands on a napkin as he looks at you. he makes a point to swallow before speaking. “an unripe clementine, a whole unpeeled carrot from the garden with its top still on, a moldy sandwich, and a family sized bag of skittles.” he swings his feet back and forth under the kitchen island, “i ate the carrot.”

you glance at satoru who reddens at megumi’s words, “okay… tsumiki, what was in yours?” you turn your attention to the little girl who sits next to megumi.

tsumiki glances at gojo in sympathy, “a moldy sandwich, a whole avocado, a green tomato that he picked from the garden even though megumi said it was unready, and a chocolate bar.” she looks at you with a smile, “i ate the avocado. i also had a square from the chocolate bar.”

you frown as you turn back around and pull out a bag of bread and an open bag of chips. gojo watches as you easily slather two slices of bread in peanut butter and strawberry jam, slicing it diagonally and placing the pieces on two different plates. you dump a generous amount of chips on each plate before placing them in front of megumi and tsumiki. you turn around and pick up the marshmallow fluff dip, sliding it into the fridge and shutting the door with your hip. gojo unabashedly stares at your ass when you bend over.

“okay, satoru,” you sigh as you turn towards him. he looks up at you with bright eyes, smiling into his palm. his glasses are on the counter. “from now on, you’ll take my morning missions and i’ll make their lunches.” you watch from the corner of your eye as megumi eagerly eats his chips and sandwich. “and you’ll throw out the bread when i tell you it’s gone bad.”

gojo drops his head on the counter. “you know, you’re so pretty, baby.” he looks up at you through his lashes, batting them intensely. “i’m truthfully so lucky to have you in my life.”

you look at him blankly. “and you’ll be doing the dishes for the next two weeks.”

“WHAT?”

#vians.scribbs #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 5 months ago

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Just Like His Father

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff, I actually saw this on tiktok and thought it'd be cute to make sth out of it

You were in the kitchen finishing making dinner when your husband returned from a business meeting.

"Hey, love" Lewis greeted you as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" You smiled as he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you leaving a kiss on your cheek. "You tired?"

"No, but I am starving." He sighed. "What's for dinner?"

"Curry chicken and rice. It'll be ready in a minute, you can sit at the table"

"Oh, yes, please.." He groaned. "Where's Marlo?"

"He should be in his room doing his homework. The young gentleman didn't have lunch today so he has to eat dinner" You chuckled remembering the talk you had with your son earlier today. Marlo was 5 years old and in preschool. He was the smartest, most lovable, but also unintentionally the funniest kid ever.

"Marlo, daddy's home!" You shouted. "Wash your hands and come sit at the table"

"Why were you laughing when you said he didn't have lunch today?" Lewis asked curiously.

"Oh you just wait till you hear it from him" You giggled taking the dish and walking with it over to the table.

When Marlo washed his hands, he ran into the kitchen extending his arms towards Lewis. "Daddy!" He screamed with joy seeing him.

"Buddy" Lewis softened, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tightly. "I missed you. Did you have a good day at school?" He asked.

"Yup" Marlo nodded.

"Tell daddy what happened at school today" You said trying to refrain from laughing so that Marlo doesn't think you're making fun of him.

"What happened at school?" Lewis was still confused. "Did someone mess with you? Did someone touch you? Y/n?" He was already visibly upset and paternal protective instincts kicked in within seconds.

"No, no-"

"Mom did.." Marlo blurted out and his gaze shifted to you. “Mom messed with me..”

"What do you mean?"

"Marlo, did you eat your lunch at school today?" You asked crossing your arms and leaning your elbows onto the table waiting for his response.

"I didn't actually" He said turning to Lewis.

"And why is that?" Lewis asked.

"Because my girlfriend was sat right across from me and you put a note that said I love you babe" Marlo explained pointing his finger at you.

Lewis paused for a second, blinking a couple of times before bursting into laughter. "Your girlfriend, buddy? You have a girlfriend?"

"I'm not sure if I still have one after today" He sighed.

"Oh, your girlfriend didn't like mom's note?"

"No! She got mad!"

You chuckled again remembering how upset he was about it earlier today when he first told you the story. You felt bad for him, but you couldn't help but laugh at the kid stuff that was concerning him.

"And what did you do after that?" Lewis listened intently as you put food on the plates for both of them.

"Nothing, I explained to her that she's married to my dad and I said that my dad is Lewis Hamilton."

"You hear how beautifully he emphasized that my husband is none other than Lewis Hamilton" You joked as Lewis held his head laughing.

"What? I didn't say anything wrong?" Marlo shrugged his shoulders. Love problems were clearly too much for the young man.

"Baby, no girl will ever love you as much as your mom loves you, remember that." You stood up from your chair and walked over to him placing his small face between your hands and kissing his forehead.

"Well, she doesn't have to know that!" Marlo defended.

"Okay, okay. No more notes in lunch boxes just so that your girlfriend doesn't feel like I'm a threat to her apparently" You playfully rolled your eyes going back to your seat. "Now, please start eating your dinner"

"But I still don't understand, regardless of the note, why didn't you eat your lunch?" Lewis asked him.

"Because I wanted to prove her how much I loved her." He sighed before continuing "Dad once told me how he proves his love for you by eating everything you cook even though sometimes he may not like it, but he eats everything because he loves you. I just did the opposite."

Your and Lewis' hearts melted when you hear him say it. You were so proud of your little boy who was too young to know what love was but he learned it so well from his daddy. you knew that one day he would make some girl the happiest girl in the world, just like his father made you and continues to do so day after day.

After dinner was over, both you and Lewis wanted to get Marlo ready for bed. After you gave him a shower and Lewis helped him brush his teeth, you read him a bedtime story and cuddled him before saying goodnight. You also made pinky promises that there would be no more "embarrassing" notes from mom in the lunchbox, and that Marlo would eat his lunch every day.

After that you and Lewis decided to relax on the couch in front of the TV in each other's arms.

"If one day we have a daughter and she comes to me at the age of 5 and says she has a boyfriend, I swear, I will lose my mind" Lewis said jokingly even though you knew he meant it.

"Yeah, we'll homeschool her so she doesn't have any contact with the boys" You said sarcastically rolling your eyes at him.

"Exactly! That's a great idea actually!" He seemed to love it of course.

"Oh stop it!"

"As you told our son today, so I will tell our daughter, no man in her life will ever love her more than me. That's a fact. I already love her."

"Baby, we don't even have a daughter...yet"

"Then I better get to work, no?" He smirked rolling you over and nuzzling his head into your neck making you giggle.

"Well, you better, Lewis Hamilton."

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #f1 x reader

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plumipal · 6 months ago

Text

Last Name Dilemma

Yknow, this is purely for myself, happy me hating my last name. This is a yandere thing btw and please note that I am an artist, not a writer :,) so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes

I had this amazing idea. If you don't really like your last name and get sucked into the world of twisted wonderland, why not just get a new one? It's very easy when you have suitors vying for your attention at every corner of the school! 🤭

It all started in the cafeteria...

Of course they were overjoyed you thought their last names were cool, did this mean you indirectly wanted to marry them? Well the game is on, and they for sure will win.

Much to their displeasure though, rumors speads fast at NRC, with everyone else quickly getting to know about your lastname dilemma. They are not backing down, wanting to burn the world down just to achieve their happy ending with you.

Ace

Of course you would want to marry him! He is your first friend in this wretched school after all! (Deuce would like to differ on that statement but yeah)

Ace may not be the richest, smartest or most beautiful, but he is your best friend, (hopefully) your first choise and (will make sure to be) your first love! Guy is serious. He will also pull all sorts of dirty tricks against everyone else, you're his bestie to marry no one else's!

Deuce

Ah poor little Deuce. Guy choked on his food when he first heard you talk about how cool their last names sounded. You think his last name is cool? Does that mean that you like him too? You wanna date him, marry him? Be his forever?? He is feeding into his own delusions and your words are only making it worse.

As soon as he has finished lunch he will excuse himself and make a call to his mom and tell her the wonderful news on how you and him will definitely get married! (He just gotta get you a sweet, sweet ring that you deserve)

Cater

Cater being quick on the trends, he was even quicker on the rumors about you having no last name (and definelty needing one). He has such a cute last name, it would fit so well with you! <3

He is already dreaming up the perfect magicam wedding, to show off how the oh so wonderful you chose him, and no one else. He also dreams of the private moments after, how you'll hold him as he sobs his heart out, so happy you chose him. He hopes these silly daydreams will soon become reality, cos he can't wait much longer..

He also definelty overloads you with his clones, giving you so much love you don't need to turn to anyone else for that :)

Trey

When Trey heard the rumors he sighed, feeling bad for how overwhelmed you probably are with everyone else's proposals. Well, come to him whenever you feel like it's too much, he will always make sure to lktsen to your problems (he loves the domestic feel to just having late night chats with you in the heartlbuyl kitchen as he prepares another batch of sweets for the next unbirthday party).

He will make sure that his own proposal of marriage is short and sweet, and he is sure it will win you over, who wouldn't want his sweets all day every day? He will make sure to feed and love you for the rest of eternity if you chose him <3

Riddle

Riddle is messy, he wants you as his spouse and he kinda wants it NOW, since he feels like he deserves it. You're the perfect match to him, the king of hearts to his queen od hearts...

He will show off how good of a husband he would be to you, how he will take care of you with a stable job, how he will help you with all homework and make sure you get special treatment on unbirthday parties. If he sees anyone trying to propose why they should be yours and not him, well, you know his unique magic...

Jack

Wolves mate for life. Jack wants to mate for life. Who does he want as his mate? You. You have changed his life, and he does not want to lose you, please. He is territorial, liking how your name would sound with his last name, now he just gotta make it happen..

Ruggie

Ruggie feels desperate when he hears the rumors. Why would you chose him, when you have literal celebrities, prince's and high standing people vying for you? Then he remembers, he owes you. It's usually the other way around yes, bur he owes you somehow.

With this he cooks up the amazing plan of giving you his last name as a thanks for that one time. He also gotta introduce you to his family, he knows granny bucchi is gonna peer pressure you into accepting marriage with him...

Leona

Leona will not lose you. He has lost so much coming second to everyone he knows. He will NOT lose you to anyone here, he will fight dirty and kill for you if there's a chance he gets with you. He has the money to hire help to get rid of people too, and that same money can sway you into chosing him, since that deadbeat crow ain't giving you a liveable sum to live on.

He makes sure to capture you for naps whenever he can, making sure to leave his scent on you, enough so most people can smell how he has been on you.

Floyd

Eeh? Shrimps wants a good last name?? Well with his you could scare oh so many away, leading to an easy life for you! It also leads to a fun life with you and him, and there will never be a dull moment in his life with you by his side!

Just don't take his last name with his brother yeah? Get with him instead.

Jade

Oya? The prefect wants a last name? A husband too perhaps? Jade's smile widens as he plans out how to trap you into a wonderful marriage with him. Perhaps some of his new mushrooms in his terrariums will make you tired enough to get you to sign a marriage contract with him?

Just don't marry his brother instead of him, he don't really know how he would handle that..

Azul

Azul feels himself become of sp happy whenhe heard the rumors. Finally! You will have him corner you as soon as he can, sweet smile on his face as he offers you a golden contract of his. He crafted it meticulously, making sure everything in it would be perfect for the both of you.

He tries to butter you up so badly, please he just wants you to himself, is that too much to ask for?

Jamil

Jamil has to hold back to use snake whisper, but he has it in case you chose the wrong option (not him). He wants you, he does that to lose you to anyone, ESPECIALLY KALIM. He probably uses snake whisper against others, to sabotage, to do anything. He just can't lose you...

He definelty shows off his cooking and cleaning skills, showing how he can be the perfect househusband for you. Look how good you could have it with him...

Kalim

Kalim is manipulative about this. He mat not be aware of it, bur he sure is. He wants you as his (spouce) bestie, and he will get that. Guy has never gotten a no, and he will not get one now (he hope atleast).

Let him plan you a grandiose wedding! With food, clothes, venue, parades and so much more worth millions and millions of thaumarks. He will space no expense for you!

Epel

Why is epel so roughened up? Why he fought for your hand of course! Isn't it manly to show off that you can easily fend gör your love? He also loves loves LOVES the attention you give him as you fix him up.

He feels so proud of the fights he won, wearing the scars like proud medals, so please take care of them before they get infected- he will only let you do it-

Maybe he will get into more fights if he can get your heavenly touch as a reward..

Rook

Rook stalks you on the daily, so of course he got to work as soon as the words left your mouth. He will hunt you down, get your heart and love and live happily every after :)

He 100% gets violent as well, bur of course you won't see that side of him! He wouldn't want to scare you..

Vil

Vil is certain you will chose him. He is the fairest of them all (niege don't count he is ugly), that is what you deserve. He will take care of you, especially your appearance. You've sent how he is with epel, now get ready for double that...

He dolls you up, makes you the best version of yourself so he can show you off on his socials,to mush it into that dumb nieges face that THE vil had you and niege doesn't. He is the fairest of them all with you of course..

Of course, he is the only queen worthy enought for your love and affection, so please just marry him already, he wants a Photoshoot together with you...

Idia (plus Ortho being STRICTLY PLATONIC)

I'm sorry but have you read his ssr story? Guy doxxes over nothing lol. He will breach your security if you tell him no, he has lost so much already, can't he have you please? You're the only thing he wants...

He will 100% use Ortho against you, backing you into a corner together with the robot. Ortho wants to make his brother happy, and he would be the happiest together with you. Ortho would also be so so so happy if you were his bif sibling too!

Theyve lost so much, they just want a happy family, together with you.. (ORTHO ONLY WANTS YOU AS A SIBLING NO WEIRD SHI AGAINST ORTHO PLEASE)

Sebek

Sebek has to run to lilia for guidance. Why has this human out this wonderful spell on him, why does he feel so lightweight? Why is his face so red? Why does he want to reject you for the rest od your days, more than he wants to protect malleus?

He wants to marry you. To have a wonderful marriage between human hand half fae, almost liek his parents... he will protect you at all costs. Please do love his loudmouth ass back..

Silver

Silver has no last name as well, so in his mind you both are already matching. He is too sleepy to actually do anything other than fall asleep with you.

Lilia

Lilia would snicker at the rumors. Ah, how he feels young again, silly what love can do to someone... he would love to help his son's with this, but sadly he wants this just as much if not more...

Malleus

Malleus does not want to lose his friend. His first and only real friend. He has tried to court you for so long, and now that you've dropped a hint that you wanted him (by saying you wanted a cool last name) he starts the royal courting traditions.

He follows all the traditions, step by step, being very careful to be correct and sparing no expense. He makes sure you see the future home of yours (the castle), his humongous hoard and his greatest treasure, gao gao dragon..

.. holy hell this was so much longer than what I expected. Well, who would you go for? Do tell :,)

Also, would yall want more long form content like this or way more short form? My asks got deleted so don't really have any to draw smhhh </3 so do send shi in please <3

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authorhjk1 · 3 months ago

Text

SNSD Village

Season 1 Episode 1 :

Pilot

(Tiffany Hwang X Male Reader)

You drop your bag in the green chair, before sitting down on the white couch.

“Sorry I’m late, Jisoo. Ms. Park wouldn’t let us go.”

Jisoo looks up from her laptop.

“Hey, I’m just glad you’re helping me out.”

She gives you a thankful smile.

“Don’t mention it. How much have you written so far?”

You slowly settle in as you take your keys out of the back pocket of your jeans and place them on the table.

Your phone joins them. It’s a hot summer day and the screen has some of your sweat on it. But the cool air of the small cafe turns the outside heat into a distant memory.

“Not very far, to be honest.”

Jisoo sighs, before sliding the laptop over the wooden surface.

“Since they're looking for someone who has experience in their field, I mentioned that I’m currently working here.”

You nod your head in agreement as you start reading her job application.

“You could also mention you’re looking after my little sister.”

As you start writing, Jisoo interrupts.

“But that doesn’t have much to do with this receptionist job.”

You look to your left.

“Why not? It’s a way of saying, you can handle difficult people.”

“Oh, please.”

She playfully hits your shoulder.

“Seri isn’t difficult.”

“Oh, trust me. She is.”

“She is four. Plus, Mrs. Seo would kill us both, if she heard how I let you speak about her daughter.”

“You’re right. Mom would kill us.”

You both share a laugh in agreement.

At that moment, your phone lights up. You check who texted you before the screen turns dark again. Your friend, Seogun. Something about a video.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

You put your phone back into your pocket.

“Let’s finish this first.”

Jisoo smiles at you as she pulls the laptop back in front of herself.

“I really appreciate this.”

Just as you are about to touch up Jisoo’s resume, you hear a familiar voice.

“Hi there, young man. How was school today?”

“Hello, Mrs. Kwon:”

Your lips return the genuine smile the owner of the cafe shoots your way.

“It was alright. Ms. Park’s class sucked. As always. Especially when she found out that a lot of people didn’t do their homework. Eunha should start writing stuff down. She always forgets we have homework.”

“Oh, yes. Ms. Park was never my daughter’s favorite teacher either. Poor Eunha though. Her mother is always putting so much pressure on her. But she will grow up eventually.”

Mrs. Kwon is right. Your classmate Eunha is a good student. It’s just that she is also quite clumsy and forgetful.

She sends another smile your way. Only now do you notice that she is holding two bowls of ice cream.

“Enjoy yourselves. It’s on the house.”

She places them in front of the two of you.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kwon.”

You and Jisoo say in union, which makes the older woman’s smile grow bigger.

“I’m sad to see you leave, Jisoo. I really enjoyed having you here.”

"I liked working here a lot.”

“You know, Eunbi is currently doing her gap year. Maybe she can help you find something new?”

“I appreciate your help, Mrs. Kwon. It means a lot to me.”

The older woman waves it off.

“Don’t mention it.”

You see someone at the table outside raising her arm, signaling her that she is ready to order.

“Eat up.”

Ms. Kwon motions towards the sundaes, before walking outside. Jisoo is eating hers as you feel the vibration of your phone inside your pocket. Now you do check what Seogun sent you. You quickly put the phone back into your pocket.

“I-I’m gonna be back in a minute.”

“Sure.”

The message fills you with excitement. You knew it. You knew she had one.

You lock the door behind you, after entering the small restroom. You sit down on the lid of the closed toilet. The turquoise fabric of the cushion on the lid matches the interior of the cafe. Pulling out your phone, you quickly open your chat with Seogun again.

Dude I found her!!!

Check this out

she is so fucking hot, cant belive it

her links

onlyfans.com/tiffany

insta: your_tiffany

After making sure the volume of your phone is on the lowest setting, you press play on the video he sent you. As the buffering cycle appears, you check out the title. “Trying out my new toy. Enjoy!”

When the video starts playing, you can’t believe your eyes. It’s actually Ms. Hwang. You recognize her surroundings instantly. The beach. That spot is barely five minutes away from the cafe.

“Hi there, cutie.”

You focus on Ms. Hwang, who is kneeling on a large blanket. Her short pants and her top look so sexy on her. You saw her wear this outfit once or twice before. Just looking at her like this makes you unbutton your jeans. As Ms Hwang waves into the camera, your pants are already sliding down your legs.

“This is a thank you to the person who sent me this.”

You watch her reach behind herself. Her hand reappears, holding a big dildo. You can’t tell how long it is exactly. The bottom is flat, so your classmate’s mother is able to place it on the towel.

“Let’s see what this bad boy does to me.”

With a flirtatious smile, she starts to strip. Your eyes are glued to your screen as Ms. Hwang's top lands on the towel. She was wearing nothing underneath. You can’t believe you’re seeing Yeji’s mother topless; she would die of embarrassment if she knew.

You start to rub your cock over your boxers as you watch her playing with her breasts. They are slightly smaller than you thought they would be. Trying to take in every detail, you watch how one of her hands slowly glides over her tummy. You start to take your boxers off as Ms.Hwang rubs herself over her shorts. The erotic hum she produces gives you goosebumps. You’ve watched porn before. You even had a girlfriend. But this is different. She is someone you know. You even saw her yesterday. You said hello. And there she is. On her knees. Slowly taking off her denim shorts.

By now, your boxers have joined your jeans around ýour ankles. You slowly stroke yourself to your classmate’s mother stripping. You’ve fantasized about her more than just once. It happened more frequently, after you picked up a small part of Ms. Im’s conversation with her. It made you and your friend look for exactly this.

Once Ms. Hwang's Shorts are off, your eyes wander up her full thighs. Her smooth skin almost seems to glow in the light of the rising sun. Your eyes finally reach her core. You take in her beautiful pussy, which is slightly glistening with arousal. You remember how your ex girlfriend looked when she was naked. This is something different. Ms. Hwang looks sexier, more mature.

“I’m so wet already.”

She gives the camera a mischievous smile as she lets her fingers run along her folds. Your classmate’s mother reaches for the plastic dildo next to her.

“Thank you so much for this.”

She gives you a wink. You watch how two of her fingers, which were running along her folds, are now slipping inside of her. Ms. Hwang closes her eyes. As she slowly fingers herself, she starts to stroke the dildo. Unconsciously you match her pace and rhythm. It almost seems like she is actually working your cock. It feels better than usual. More real.

When Yeji’s mother lifts the dildo off the towel, you can only stare. Her lips close around the pink tip. You stroke yourself faster as her cheeks hollow. Ms. Hwang starts to actually suck the pink dildo, which barely fits into her mouth. She keeps fingering herself at the same time, her hips slightly bucking towards her hand.

“I’ve been so horny since I got this.”

She just pulled the plastic out of her mouth. A smile on her face.

“You guys know how much I like a nice cock.”

Ms. Hwang places the dildo right in front of herself, her fingers slipping out of her pussy. You see them glistening with her juices.

You watch her raise her hips as she sends another seductive look in the direction of the camera. The tip of the dildo parts her pussy lips as she moves forward a little. Yeji’s mother bites her lip. You feel a familiar feeling rising in your stomach. You imagine that you are there on the beach. With Ms. Hwang. You stroke yourself faster, envisioning that you’re lying underneath her. That it’s your tip that penetrates her pussy. That it’s your cock she slowly impales herself on.

Your breathing becomes faster as you’re just about to climax. You watch Ms.Hwang slowly moving up and down. Her pussy lips glide along the shaft. Her moans make you groan. Your toes curl. Another moan from her. Another groan from you.

“When are you gonna be back?”

You ask, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“I don’t know. An hour?"

“Alright. Drive safe.”

Jisoo smiles back at you, before getting into her car. Well, not her car. More like your mother’s company’s car. If Jisoo had enough money to buy herself a car, she wouldn’t need to take care of your sister.

You watch her drive off. As soon as she is out of sight, you start running. 60 minutes. That should be more than enough. An evil smile appears on your face as you jump over the small white fence of your mother’s garden. It barely reaches your knee. You are going to make Yeji pay. The two of you have been at each other's throats since you both can remember. But today, you will finally come out on top.

You quickly unlock the terrace door. Run through the big living room. Speed up the stairs. Barge into your room. Let your bag fall on the ground next to the door and quickly sit down on your chair.

You open your phone again. You open your and Seogun’s chat. After a glance at the thumbnail of the video you watched earlier, you click on the first link. Ms.Hwang’s Onlyfans page appears. You quickly scroll through her profile.

Hi, sweetie! Subscribe now and get 10% off! I will send you a sexy welcome pic!

That video alone would make you win your fight over Yeji. And with that promised picture, Yeji would probably never dare to speak up against you ever again. Your thumb hovers over the blue subscribe button. Just when you’re about to hit it, you remember that your mom sometimes checks your bank account. She caught you buying alcohol before, despite not being 21 yet. She almost killed you. If she finds out you are paying someone for porn… Especially someone you and her both personally know…A shiver runs down your spine. No. You can’t risk it. This isn’t worth it. Your mother can be scary as hell.

You get off Ms. Hwang's Onlyfans page and click on her Instagram link. Her Instagram Bio is the same as the one on her Onlyfans. You quickly skim through her reels and select a random one. It starts with Ms. Hwang gasping, her mouth wide open as she pretends to look down.

“Oh my gosh! You're huge!”

You start rubbing your cock through your jeans. You can’t help it. Yeji’s mom is just so fucking hot.

“You didn’t tell me you are this big.”

Ms. Hwang bites her lip, while smiling into the camera.

“I’m not sure it’s gonna fit.”

“Fuck it.”

You curse, stripping yourself off your pants and underwear. As you keep scrolling through all her recent reels, you stroke your cock. Every reel makes Ms. Hwang look like a slut. In one, she pretends to pick something up while bending over. You can clearly see under her skirt. In another one, she has tight yoga pants on. You don’t even pay attention to what she is saying, your eyes are glued to her cameltoe.

A couple of minutes later, you are fully dressed again. You can’t believe you just came twice within two hours to videos of Yeji’s mother. Having just watched most of her recent reels, you now check out some of her pictures. You do recognize some of those outfits, but others are new to you.

Scrolling back to the top of her page, your eyes get caught up on one of her most recent pics. Ms. Hwang is kneeling on the floor, only wearing a set of blue lingerie. Your heart beats faster when you read the caption.

Looking for someone near my place to shoot some content with. Send me a DM if you’re down for some fun.

You hesitate after reading it a couple of times. It sounds too good to be true. It could very well be a scam, so she can tempt more people to subscribe to her Onlyfans. Would it be worth a shot? Why not? You don’t have anything to lose. You click on the message button. What to write her though? You can’t tell her it’s you. She would probably say no immediately. That thought makes you realize that you’re using your personal account.

You quickly make a new one and search for Ms. Hwang again. Now that you’re all set, the opener continues to be a major problem. You can’t just say hi, can you? You have to be smart about this. Do you want to be funny? Do you just text her that you saw her invite to shoot some content? What do you call her even?

After a couple of minutes, you finally decide on a simple text.

You stare at the screen for a while. You are nervous. Excited. But when Ms. Hwang doesn’t text back immediately, you lean back in your chair. What did you expect? The chance of her actually responding is very slim. She wouldn’t text you back within a couple of minutes.

You dry yourself off with a towel. It’s 11 pm now. Throughout the entirety of your workout, you kept thinking about Ms. Hwang. The chance to actually sleep with her. To record it. Show it to Yeji. It was wishful thinking, but still...

Taking your gym bag out of your locker, you start to get dressed. You usually jog home from the gym, since it only takes thirty minutes and it’s a great way to build up your stamina. But it’s already late and your mom offered to pick you up on her way home. She seems to always be at the company, since your dad died. Is it just because of the huge amount of work, or is it her way to cope with the loss of your father?

After stepping out of the gym, you lean against the outer wall, waiting for her to arrive. You haven’t been working out for a long time yet. You always liked gym class, but you never bothered with actually trying to improve your physique. But you haven’t gotten over your ex-girlfriend yet. As much as you hate to admit it, she might have been the one. Trying to get your mind off her, you started working out about three weeks ago.

After taking your phone out of your black sweatpants, you see a message from your mother.

Grabbed something to eat for the two of us. I will be there in 10.

You quickly skim through your class’s Discord. Someone mentioned something about a party this weekend. As you scroll through the messages, you see that it’s Eunha, who invited everyone. Seems like her mom is out of town over the weekend. As you take your earbuds out of your pocket, your phone vibrates.

You almost let it fall. She actually replied! With shaky fingers, you quickly open Instagram and there your messages.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Your shout bounces off the wall of the gym you were leaning on.

This is unbelievable. It’s your chance. Your chance to-

You pause, already halfway done with your response. No. You can’t message her back immediately. Maybe wait a couple of minutes. But then, your eyes catch the green circle next to her profile. Fuck. She knows you’re online too. Now you have to respond. Something cool. As if you weren’t waiting for her reply for hours.

Seems to be your lucky day. I live close by.

You read it a couple of times, before sending it. You know it sounds a little overconfident, but maybe it works. Ms. Hwang probably got hundreds of messages, so why not try and leave an impression?

Fantastic

Two questions

Are you fine with your body being filmed?

How big are you? You know what I mean

The wink emoji at the end makes a shiver run down your spine. You’re almost there. So close to finally having sex with a woman, who has been your “inspiration” more often than you can count.

I’m cool with that

Why don’t we make that a surprise?

You take a deep breath before you send it. She might take it the wrong way. But hopefully, this gets you through the door.

I do like surprises…

But I do need to know a general direction

Send a pic?

You rub your teeth over your lower lip as you think. You’ve never taken a picture like this one before. Because no one ever asked you to send you one. But Ms. Hwang just did! You’re just about to go back inside, when you see a pair of lights illuminate the parking lot. Your mom is here.

I’m in public right now

I’ll get you one once I’m home

I might need some inspiration to show you what I’ve got

Your wink emoji makes you shake your head. For someone else, this conversation might look borderline weird. But the tingle inside your stomach doesn’t subside, even when your mom’s car stops right in front of you.

“Hi, sweetie.”

"Hey, mom.”

You smile at her, before getting inside and fastening your seatbelt.

“How was your day?”

“Oh, you know. A lot of work, as always. How was school?”

“School is school.”

Your reply makes her chuckle as she gets back on the road.

“Did Ms. Park torture your class again?”

“You know how she is, mom.”

You sigh, getting comfortable in the warm car. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. But you’re too scared to check. What if Ms. Hwang actually sent you something?

“What did you get by the way?”

“Chicken.”

She points behind herself, eyes still focused on the dark road ahead. You look at the backseat behind her, a grin on your face.

“You're great, mom.”

You take two stairs at once, after you enter the house.

“Be quick, I’m hungry.”

“Just five minutes!”

You close your door.

Your gym bag joins your bag for school on the ground. Opening your phone, you immediately see that Ms. Hwang sent you a picture.

“This actually worked?”

You sit down in your chair again as you open your chat with her.

“Oh fuck.”

You can’t hide your pleasant surprise.

Ms. Hwang, sent you a hot selfie. Her white top is bunched up above her breasts, no bra in sight. She smiles at the camera, at you, as she winks.

You might not even need five minutes. Your sweatpants and boxers are gone within seconds. As you start to stroke yourself, you take in Ms. Hwang’s surroundings. You recognize her open kitchen in the background. You’ve been to her house before, together with one of your closer friends. Your eyes narrow as you spot someone standing in the kitchen. Her face is turned away from the camera, but you recognize her immediately. You see her in class everyday.

The thought of Ms. Hwang sending you a selfie of herself almost half naked, really makes you hard. You are so focused on her tits, you almost forget why she sent you the picture in the first place.

You have to force yourself to stop. Getting off the chair, you sit down on the edge of your bed, facing the mirror. You take a couple of pictures of yourself, while making sure your head isn’t in the frame.

After taking a sip of your cold water, you glance at the TV. You’re sitting on a barstool at the kitchen counter, while your mom is watching a drama. Her long elegant dress got replaced by a pair of shorts and a white tank top, while you were busy upstairs.

“You don’t want to watch this with me?”

“No thanks, mom. Not into romance stuff.”

You take a bite of your chicken, while you hear her laugh.

“Trust me. One day you’ll like it. You’re not old enough to appreciate this yet.”

“Sure mom.”

Your phone vibrates again. You were afraid that the picture was bad. Or worse, that Ms. Hwang didn’t like what she saw. You quickly check what she sent you.

Look how wet you made me

The picture she sent along with the text almost makes you drop your phone. It's a close up shot of her pussy. Two of her fingers spread her lips apart, revealing the lower part of her clit, while showing off how wet she is. Her glistening folds instantly make you hard. You can see the inner part of her walls. The pink flesh drenched in her arousal.

What are you supposed to say now? You can’t just ask, when she wants you to come over. You need to keep this conversation going. Maybe you haven’t convinced her fully yet.

You chug down the rest of your water, before focusing on what to text her next.

You’re dripping Tiffany

I want to know what you taste like

It feels unfamiliar to you to address her with her first name. You always call her Ms. Hwang. But it’d be weird to call her that now.

And I can’t wait to feel your tongue

I need you to eat my pussy so bad right now

“What are you up to, oppa?”

“Nothing important.”

You quickly turn off your phone, before you look up.

One of your classmates is looking down on you, while you sit in your seat.

“Did you catch what Ms. Kim just gave us for homework?”

“Eunha…”

You sigh, still very aware that she almost caught you. You’ve been texting with Ms. Hwang - sorry, Tiffany - for two days now. Eunha just interrupted you, while you were about to reply to one of her messages.

“Oh, please. I didn’t pay attention.”

“That’s not news to me.”

Before you can react, Eunha has already straddled your lap.

“What-?”

You instinctively take a hold of her thighs. You feel how full and smooth they are. And you realize your fingers are partially underneath her skirt.

"Please? I’m begging you.”

Eunha does her best to look cute. She always does. That’s her charm. And that’s also why she gets away with pretty much everything.

You hesitate for a moment. Eunha needs to learn it the hard way at some point. But you can’t resist her either. Those cute cheeks, her lips which are pouting at you, her dark eyes pleading you to tell her.

“We’re supposed to write a two page essay about the Roman gods.”

Ms. Kim is your history teacher. And currently she is focusing on ancient societies to show the evolution of human society and democracy.

“Is there any way…?”

“No, Eunha. I’m not gonna write it for you.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask.”

She pouts at you again. You’re still very aware that she is sitting in your lap. And that you’re holding her thighs. But most of the class is outside during this nice warm weather. Plus, Eunha is known to be almost a little too comfortable with skinship. No matter with whom.

“I was gonna ask, if you could… you know… read through it before Wednesday?”

At least she remembers that Ms. Kim likes to randomly collect some student’s homework.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks, oppa!”

Eunha suddenly kisses your cheek and jumps off your lap. Only now do you realize how short her skirt actually is. You can almost see a hint of her ass. It’s probably not compliant with the school dress code, but that’s not unusual. All the kids at school have decently rich parents. They couldn’t care less about the school’s rules.

It’s embarrassing to say, but you can’t keep your eyes off Eunha’s thighs. Until you hear someone from behind you.

“Oppa.”

You turn around to see one of your closest friends standing behind your seat.

“Yes, Minju?”

The girl pouts at you and you could’ve sworn you see a glint of anger in her eyes. But they soften, once they focus back on you. Who was she looking at?

“Would you…Would you mind, if we write the essay together? You’re the best at history. Well, except for her.”

Minju nods towards the older girl, who is sitting in the front row.

“It’s also the only subject I’m good at.”

“You are not doing that bad.”

“Then where are my good grades?”

“I can help you. If you help me. Please?”

“Ok, Minju. What about…..Sunday?”

“Sunday sounds great.”

Minju gives you a bright smile.

You check your phone once she has walked away. After finishing your reply, you finally send it.

Looking up from your phone, you see Yeji enter the classroom. She and Minju seem to be talking about something funny. As always, your anger starts to build up, whenever you see her. If only she’d know. If only Yeji knew what you’re planning on doing on Saturday. How you talked to her mother. Yeji would probably kill you. But that’s exactly what you want. Yeji has been annoying you for far too long. And you will finish this war between the two of you. Once and for all.

At exactly that moment, Yeji turns in your direction. She rolls her eyes and gives you a weird grimace. Like she always does, when your eyes meet. You groan in annoyance. Soon…

You picked this time, because you know that Yeji and Minju are downtown for most of the day. Minju said something about going shopping and trying out a new restaurant. After hesitating for a moment, you press the doorbell. You hear it ring. You step from one foot on the other, while you wait for her. You’re nervous. You know her. You’ve known her for years. You’ve dreamed about-

The door opens. Tiffany stands in front of you.

You are able to witness the different emotions that wash through her as she looks at you. First, it’s more of a seductive smile, then surprise, confusion, realization and finally shock. Her mouth is opened as if she is about to scream.

“W-What are you doing here?”

“You were looking for someone to shoot content with.”

You try to stay relaxed as if this is completely normal. Tiffany could still send you away. You doubt she would tell your mother, but it'd be awkward between you and Tiffany nonetheless.

“H-How do you even-How do you even know, I have-?”

Her shocked face turns into a worried one as the volume of her voice rises.

“I found your Instagram by accident.”

Tiffany is about to answer, when you hear a car drive past behind you.

“Go inside, before anyone…”

She sighs and you slip past her.

Once Tiffany has closed the door behind you, she gives you an angry glare.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re way too young to even think about this! And you’re Yeji’s friend! Are you out of your mind?”

It seems like Tiffany has finally overcome her initial shock. You don’t bother to mention that you and Yeji are sworn enemies.

“I’m old enough Tif-”

Her stare makes you change your mind.

“Ms. Hwang. I’ve done this before. I’m not a virgin.”

She gives you a skeptical look.

“And this is also an opportunity for you.”

You add quickly. You thought about how to convince her on your way over, in case she would say no.

“An opportunity? For what? You’re Ms. Seo’s son for god's sake.”

“So what? My mother doesn’t have anything to do with this. And-”

“But I know her! I know you. I can’t sleep around with my neighbor's son!”

“Why not? I won’t tell anyone. And you said that you’d love to fuck me. You want me to show you-”

You reach for your phone in your pocket.

Tiffany shakes her head. Her cheeks are red in embarrassment. She can’t believe this is actually happening. How did Seohyun’s son find out about her? There is no way he is actually into her. He is the same age as her daughter.

“Even if you weren’t her son, you are still way too young. You’re barely half my age.”

“That's what I said earlier. This is an opportunity for you.”

“Opportunity? To do what? You're nuts!”

Tiffany storms off, into her living room. You follow after her. You know you're being a little clingy, but this kind of opportunity might never come again.

“The opportunity to shoot a different kind of content. You know, since I'm younger.”

Yeji's mother turns around and raises her eyebrow.

“Since you're younger? What do you think is good about that? All young boys think like you.”

Tiffany steps towards you again, her hands on her waist. You can tell she is still fuming.

“Do you think you have a great…”

Tiffany does a vague gesture towards your crotch.

“Or do you think you already have experience? Or that you have better stamina than older guys?”

“Yeah, but that’s not my point.”

Tiffany rolls her eyes.

“I don’t even want to hear it. Would you please leave now?”

She gestures towards the front door.

“At least hear me out. You do want more subscribers and eventually earn more money, don’t you?”

Tiffany is already reaching for the door again, when she turns around.

“I’m listening.”

She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Well…”

You hesitate for a second. This might come off the wrong way. But by the looks of it, it’s probably your last shot.

“Well, I’m younger than you. That’s true. But you’re also, like you said, twice my age.”

“So? What’s your point? Are you trying to make me feel old now too?”

Tiffany leaves you standing and heads towards her kitchen. You’re walking after her, slightly annoyed that she can’t stand still. While she takes a half opened bottle of wine out of the fridge, you look at her from behind. Her backside makes you lose focus for a moment. Her jeans and her slightly bent over figure makes you hard in excitement. You’re so close. Don’t mess this up.

Tiffany takes out a wine glass and starts pouring herself some whine.

“I’m trying to tell you, you’re a… Well, people my age would call you milf.”

You see her furrowing her brows.

“That doesn’t sound like something nice. And it seems to me like you shouldn’t be saying that to me.”

She looks at you again, while taking a sip from the red wine.

“Well, it means… Mom I like to fuck.”

You hear her choke on the whine she was just about to swallow.

“Excuse you?!”

“What? It’s true. The fact that I’m younger doesn’t mean I don’t find you sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?”

The disbelief in her voice goes well with her raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I do.”

You can feel that Tiffany isn’t as disgusted at the thought of sleeping with you as before. You can still turn this around.

“Do you know how often I thought about you while….”

You let the sentence linger in the air and Tiffany seems to catch on.

“Oh, please.”

She scoffs.

“You’re trying to impress me by telling me you jerked off to me once or twice?”

You shake your head.

“More than once or twice. Several times a day, since I’ve found your Instagram.”

“Well…”

You finally seem to have made her speechless.

“And I’m not the only one who thinks you’re hot. I’ve heard more than just a couple of boys talk about you.”

“Oh, really?”

Tiffany raises an eyebrow again, before drinking some wine again. She seems more curious than angry now.

“Yes. That’s why this is such a great opportunity for you. I’m the same age as the boys who want to sleep with you. If we include this theme, of you with a way younger guy, in some of your content, those boys might be more interested in watching your stuff.”

Tiffany has finished her drink by now.

“You mean, appeal to younger people because they can identify with you more?”

“Exactly. There are a couple of great themes or roleplay ideas, which would really draw them in.”

You can almost see how the wheels turn inside her head.

Tiffany sighs as she places the empty glass on the counter.

"Alright. Fine.”

You feel goosebumps form on your skin, when she finally agrees.

“But today is only a test. If you mess up, or this doesn’t work, like you said it would, we are done.”

You quickly nod your head. You can’t believe it. You actually convinced her to have sex with you. On camera. Yeji’s mother. Tiffany Hwang.

She pulls a black hairband off her wrist, which you only notice now. After silently tying her hair in a high ponytail, Tiffany sinks to her knees. Right in front of you. You almost forget to breathe.

“Consider this an audition.”

Her eyes wander from your face to your crotch.

You bite your lip as you feel Tiffany’s hands undo your belt and your jeans. They quickly land around your ankles as she slowly lets a finger trace the outlines of your clothed and hard cock.

“Now I’m actually curious, if you were telling the truth about this.”

Tiffany hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers and pulls them down.

“Not bad at all.”

She smiles as your cock appears right in front of her face.

Tiffany slowly wraps her hand around it and strokes your length once. From the tip to the base.

“I could definitely work with this.”

Tiffany slowly moves her head closer and gives your tip a kiss.

You almost let out a groan already. You can’t believe that she is actually kneeling in front of you. With her hand around your cock and her lips on your tip.

She opens her mouth a little wider and moves down. You feel her lips glide along the length of your cock. Tiffany almost reaches your base, before she retreats again. Her hand around your cock starts stroking the parts of your cock that just left her mouth. Once she finally reaches your tip again, Tiffany gives it another kiss. This one is sloppier. But when she looks up at you, she furrows her brows.

“Why aren’t you recording?”

You’re stunned. The feeling of her lips around your cock has made you unable to move. Tiffany rolls her eyes and motions towards the counter, where she put her phone earlier.

After picking it up, you enter the pin she told you and open the camera. You hit the record button as Tiffany resumes her blowjob. Making sure she is in the frame, you watch her through the phone. But it just doesn’t really compare to the real thing. Now that you got a taste of it, you can’t help yourself.

You have to hold in a deep breath, as you lower her phone a little. Now you can see her better. Tiffany keeps stroking the lower half of your cock, while her mouth works the upper part. The camera can’t catch it, but you feel how her tongue presses against the underside of your shaft. She slowly covers your whole cock in her spit as she starts to make lewd sounds. The vibrations from her mouth are being sent through your cock, into your body and up your spine. Your whole body can feel how Tiffany sucks you off.

When she lifts her head a little further, Tiffany lets your cock fall out of her mouth. Now that the camera can see your whole cock for the first time, you’re a little embarrassed. You are aware that other people will see this. For a moment, you think they could make fun of you, but Tiffany quickly destroys that thought.

“Wow. Your cock tastes so good.”

She smiles up into the camera, before giving your tip another kiss.

“I really like it.”

A wink into the camera and Tiffany resumes her blowjob. You realize too late that she has picked up the pace. You almost drop her phone, when you see her head bob up and down. Her lips glide over your shaft way faster now. Her hand moves quicker too. Tiffany is starting to take more of your cock into her mouth.

Now that her head is moving further forward, everytime she gets deeper onto your cock, you can see a hint of her ass again. The blue jeans she is wearing is hugging her cheeks tightly. You move her phone a little forward and capture more of her ass.

As Tiffany’s blowjob continues, you start to get more into being her cameraman. While your main focus is still not to cum too fast, you’re now trying out some new camera angles. When Tiffany moves back a little, and only your tip remains inside her mouth, you move the phone on the same height as her face to her left. You’re now filming her side profile. Tiffany seems to know what to do. She looks up at you, her eyes now sparkling with amusement and lust. She slowly moves her lips along your cock once more, making sure the camera captures the exact way her mouth slowly takes in your length. After a couple back and forths, you reposition her phone again. It’s now looking from your perspective down at her, just like at the beginning.

You focus more on not just suddenly blowing your load inside her mouth. Because you’re now feeling a familiar pull inside your stomach. The way her mouth and hand work your shaft makes you experience something new. Your ex was never this good. You can tell that Tiffany has done this more than just once.

After leaning back again, Tiffany smiles into the camera. She stops stroking you and places a finger two or three inches above your base.

“I just got up to here. Do you think I can manage to go all the way?”

You hesitate for a second, before slowly making the camera nod.

Tiffany laughs.

“Let’s see if I can take it all.”

With another seductive smile on her face, Tiffany takes you into her mouth once more. You brace yourself for what’s to come next. The feeling of her lips gliding down your shaft once more makes you shiver in excitement. You still can’t believe she is actually doing this to you.

When Tiffany reaches her finger, she looks at the camera again. A wink and she removes her finger. You have to stop yourself from cursing as you feel her take more than before. Your tip grazes something deep inside her mouth and Tiffany stops for a second. She still has around one inch to go. You feel how she opens her mouth a little wider. How your tip slowly moves down. You are suddenly aware that you’re now inside her throat. Tiffany pushes her head further onto your cock and you hear her cough. Your whole cock has finally disappeared inside her mouth and throat.

You can feel how the muscles of her throat tighten around you. And you can also feel your incoming orgasm. You try to count in your head, not wanting to cum already. But Tiffany deepthroating your cock, doesn’t help at all. You make it to 12, when you feel yourself throbbing inside of her. She must have felt it too, because she looks up at you, her eyes have naturally become bigger.

You signal her in whatever way that you’re about to finish. But Tiffany only hums in satisfaction, which brings you so much closer to your orgasm. She moans, when you finally do cum. You unload deep inside Tiffany’s throat. Holding onto the phone, you do your best to keep the camera focused on her face.

Tiffany closes her eyes in bliss, feeling how your warm cum paints her throat. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Follow me.”

Tiffany opens the door to the room next to her bedroom. Yeji’s room is on your left. You glance inside, the door slightly opened. You see her bed, a stuffed toy on it, and a desk. In that moment, Tiffany takes your hand and the two of you walk into the room she just unlocked. The key is still in the keyhole as you walk past. This is probably Tiffany’s way to make sure that Yeji doesn’t know what her mother is doing for a living.

The big window in front of you leads towards the garden. You can see the corner of the pool as you step a little closer. A bed is standing on your right. Next to it a nightstand. One would think it’s just a normal bedroom. But when you turn to your left, you see two tripods with cameras on them. Two cupboards stand against the wall behind those. You guess that’s where Tiffany keeps all her stuff. Costumes, sexy outfits and toys.

“Can you help me set everything up?”

“Sure.”

Reality suddenly seems to crash down on you as you pick up one of the tripods. Tiffany just gave you head. You came in her mouth barely ten minutes ago. And now you’re going to have sex with her on camera. You take a deep breath and set up the tripod near the bed, just like Tiffany told you. It’s not that you’re scared or anything. You’re just really nervous. Tiffany is on a whole different level, compared to your ex. And filming it is different too. You’ve never really done that before.

Once you’re done setting up the cameras, Tiffany walks over to one of the cupboards. She opens it and you can see inside. As you expected, it’s full with all kinds of different outfits. Tiffany takes the one on the far left, but your eyes linger on the one on the right. Is that… a nurse uniform?

“Give me five minutes.”

You nod as Tiffany closes the doors again. You can’t help but look after her as she leaves the room, imagining her in that uniform. You’re now just as hard again as you were when Tiffany took your cock down her throat.

When she closes the door behind herself, you realize that you didn’t even catch a glimpse of the outfit she is about to put on. It was something red. Just like the uniform. You stand where she left you for a moment, before you quickly walk over to the cupboard.

You open the doors again and check out the outfit to your right. A red skirt and a red top, decorated with white lace along the neckline. A matching white apron with a cross on it and a red nurse’s cap. You want to see Tiffany wear this so badly right now. You rub your hand over your clothed crotch as you scan the rest of the cupboard. A black leather outfit, a very low cut green top, which would almost expose her whole cleavage, except for her nipples, a long white dress that almost looks too elegant for this room.

Something else suddenly catches your attention. You squat down and reach for one of the two drawers on the bottom of the cupboard. Biting your lower lip, you feast your eyes on row after row on Tiffany Hwang’s bra collection. There are probably around thirty of them. All differently colored and with different decorations. One has a bow on it at the front. Another one is made out of white lace with butterfly patterns. A third one is a red strapless one. Your hand lingers above a fourth one. It’s blue and it’s not shaped like the other ones. It’s more like a couple of ribbons sewed together, which would only cover Tiffany’s nipples. The rest of her tits would be completely visible.

You quickly open the other one. It’s full with her panties. All folded and lined up neatly. Some of them seem to have a matching bra in the other drawer, while others seem to be a stand alone item. You catch a glimpse of one that has writing on the front. You slightly push the one on top of it out of the way.

“Good girl”

Taking a deep breath, you close both drawers again, but not without letting your eyes scan through their contents one last time. You wonder for how long Tiffany must be doing this already. Because these are a lot, even for a woman. You remember when you were young and you rummaged through your moms wardrobe, searching for the TV remote she hid, while she was out of the house, because she didn’t want you to watch TV the whole day. You came across her underwear drawer, but Tiffany’s is on another level. You wonder if she has even more inside her normal bedroom. Or inside the other cupboard?

A second later, you stand in front of it. But just when you’re about to open its doors, you hear footsteps approaching. You quickly look around. You don’t want to be caught going through her underwear. Two giant steps later, you reach the bed and jump onto the mattress. Just in time. Right when you lean your head against the wall behind you, Tiffany opens the door. You almost forget what you just saw. Hell, you almost forget to breathe.

Tiffany as a whole is too much to handle. You feel like your jaw is about to drop, so you quickly look down, not wanting her to think that you’re some naive little boy. Your eyes land on her feet. They’re covered in red stockings, which are barely see through. But you do catch a hint of her white painted nails. Your eyes follow along Tiffany’s legs as you admire how the fabric tightly wraps around her skin. The thicker fabric turns into lace as you reach her thighs. Red roses greet you as you near the end of her stockings. A strap serves as the next path for your eyes to travel on. Its connection with the hem of Tiffany’s stockings is decorated with a small red bow.

Eventually, you reach Tiffany’s waist. It’s covered by her red garter belt, which is, just like her panties and bra, made out of red lace. Her high-waisted panties give you a side view of one of her butt cheeks, before your focus lands on her clothed pussy. You still can’t believe how sexy she is, you can’t get enough of her. Your eyes travel even further. Past her belly button and her garter belt and along her flat stomach.

Tiffany’s chest is covered by a red lace bra with the same pattern as the top of her stockings. Your gaze lingers right between both her breasts, before you travel along one of her bra straps. You reach her collarbone, which is decorated by a golden necklace, a heart in the middle. Her shoulders are covered in red silk. The night robe she is wearing flows down her back and would’ve hidden her round cheek, if she didn’t rest her hand on her hip. A flirtatious smile plays around her freshly painted red lips.

“You’ve been staring for ages.”

“S-Sorry.”

Well, you certainly do look like a naive little boy right now.

“I don't mind at all.”

Tiffany laughs, before finally stepping fully inside the room.

“So, have you decided yet?”

“Huh?”

You zoned out for a second, too distracted by Tiffany turning around and closing the door.

Now she turns back to you.

“Have you thought about a suitable concept for our video? This was your idea after all.”

You clear your throat, trying to buy yourself some time. Since you decided to message Tiffany, dozens of ideas have piled up inside your mind. One more dirty and fucked up then the next.

“I do have a couple of ideas, actually.”

Tiffany smiles at you as she slowly walks towards the bed.

“Let’s just decide on one for now, shall we?”

She leans down and places her hands on the mattress, right next to your leg. You don’t stand a chance. A second later, you brazenly stare at her voluptuous cleavage.

“We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves yet.”

You tear your eyes off her body once more and focus back on her face. A knowing grin plays around her lips.

“Sure.”

You finally decide on one idea you had in mind.

Tiffany doesn’t look very convinced at first, but as you continue your explanation, her eyes grow a little softer.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

You get off the bed, while Tiffany looks around.

“Why don’t you carry the tripod downstairs and I will set up everything else in the kitchen?”

“Sounds good.”

You’re excited. Receiving a blowjob from Yeji’s mom was already an incredible moment. But now, you're about to actually sleep with her. Your finger shakes as you press the record button on the camera, secured on the tripod, which is directed at the open kitchen. You walk into the hallway, as you hear Tiffany starting the coffee machine. You wait for it to finish, before you silently count to ten, just like the two of you planned. You take your phone out of your pocket and hit the record button on it as well.

When you walk into the kitchen, you see Tiffany leaning against the counter behind her. She is facing the door you’re now standing in as she sips on her freshly made coffee. She acts sleepy, covering her mouth, pretending to yawn into her hand.

“Oh, good morning Ms. Hwang. Did you sleep well last night?”

Your voice makes her look up at you. You make sure your phone captures her face and some of her cleavage. The two of you outlined the general direction of the conversation earlier, but most of it is gonna be improvisation.

“Good morning! I slept pretty well and you?”

Tiffany looks up from her cup and smiles at you.

“I got.. Some sleep. We stayed up pretty late haha. Sorry for all the noise.”

Your words make her shake her head.

“Oh don’t worry, I didn't hear a thing. Would you like a cup? This coffee maker makes a mean cup.”

She gestures towards the machine and of course you accept.

“I would appreciate it. Thank you”

“So why are you up this early? I’d assume you try to get some more sleep after last night.”

“I usually wake up early to get some exercise in. No matter how little sleep I get.”

Tiffany hands you your cup and smiles sympathetically.

“Oh you poor thing. It's okay to take some days off, you know?”

“Yeah but if I get off my routine I’ll start to get lazy and all my hard work would go to waste.”

She nods in understanding, while you try the coffee.

“And who are you working out so hard for? Who’s my poor baby losing sleep over? A girlfriend perhaps?”

It feels weird to you that Tiffany calls you baby. Especially since she isn’t your girlfriend. But you go along with it.

“No, no girlfriend unfortunately. It’s just for myself to stay in shape. It’s a good way to keep my self disciplined on a routine”

“Well if I could offer my honest opinion..”

A sly, almost hungry smile plays around her lips.

“I think your hard work is paying off quite well.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that”

“You know.. because of my daughter’s sleepover. I had to break my own little routine. It’s going to be hard to get back to it without some help.”

Tiffany puts her cup down and steps closer. She keeps eye contact with you.

“Care to lend a hand?”

She places her hand on your shoulder as she says those words. The camera on the tripod catches her movements, while your phone is focused on her face.

“Sorry about that, but if you want.. I could help you out. I have some time.”

A victorious smile plays around the corners of her mouth.

“I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Tiffany bites her lips seductively as she says those words. Her hand slowly moves down your shoulder, past your biceps and along your lower arm, until it reaches your own hand. She takes your coffee and places the mug on the counter next to you.

“Well then handsome…”

She locks her fingers around yours.

“Care to follow me?”

She is face to face with you as she whispers those words. You lift the camera a little, so you can see her properly.

“Lead the way ma’am.”

You follow after her as Tiffany leads you upstairs.

The two of you walk into the room you were in earlier. Tiffany slings her arms around your neck and turns you around her, so your back is facing the other camera and the bed. Her lips capture yours, which you try to film with your phone. But her lips prove to be too distracting. You close your eyes as you start to lose yourself in the kiss. The last kiss you had was some time ago, with-

Tiffany puts her weight forward, against you, which makes you walk backwards. When your knees hit the edge of the bed, Tiffany finally lets go of your lips. The faint hint of strawberries leaves your lips as you already hope for a second kiss.

She places a finger on your chest, looking up at you with a seductive smile.

“My routine includes working out too.”

Tiffany doesn’t have to use a lot of force to push you onto the bed. A moment after you hit the soft mattress, she is already straddling you. Your hand finds its way to one of her lace covered thighs, while the other holds your phone, trying to capture as much of her as possible. She kisses your cheek once, before pecking you on the lips. Once more the taste of strawberries lingers on your lips as Tiffany moves her mouth closer to your ear.

"Although I’m usually the one who gets worked out.”

She playfully gives your earlobe a little bite, before she moves down your neck. Kiss after kiss, lick after lick, Tiffany travels towards the hem of your shirt. Your free hand reaches behind her back, trying to undo her bra, but Tiffany slowly moves it away while she shakes her head.

“Not so impatient, baby.”

Her smile sends warmth through your system as she leans down and places that smile directly onto your lips. When she moves back, you feel her breath against your lips.

“Just let me take care of you for now.”

Once more, Tiffany begins her journey along your neck. When she reaches your shirt, you feel her hands sneak underneath it from further down, while she kisses your clothed chest. You feel them exploring your upper body as Tiffany keeps peppering you with kisses. She slowly makes her way towards your crotch, while the rest of her body shuffles backwards, until she is face to face with your clothed cock.

“Let's see what you have for me.”

Another smile and Tiffany starts to take off your pants. You make sure your phone captures her deep cleavage as she leans over your lower body.

“Wow.”

Tiffany looks up with an impressed look on her face as she pulls down your pants, revealing your cock.

“I didn’t expect someone my daughter’s age to have such a nice dick.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hwang.”

You make sure that you sound a little embarrassed as she gives your cock a long, slow lick.

“Do you know how much fun we could’ve had last night?”

A second lick follows the first as Tiffany slowly strokes the lower half of your cock.

“I was so horny, thinking about all the young men in my house.”

She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, before she looks back at your face.

“I wouldn’t have minded at all, if you had come in during the night.”

You hold your breath as Tiffany suddenly bobs her head a couple of times on your cock. Her lips glide up and down your length with a speed you weren’t prepared for. But it ended as quickly as it started. Biting back a disappointed groan, you see Tiffany’s eyes sparkle in amusement as if she was silently saying,

“Girls your age don’t play with your cock like this.”

You try to come up with a witty reply, which isn’t as easy as it sounds, when you have someone lying between your legs.

“I will make sure to check up on you during the next sleepover.”

Tiffany smiles as you feel her free hand dive underneath your shirt once more.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Your head finally sinks back into the sheets, while you keep your phone locked on Tiffany. You’re starting to get the hang of it, while she keeps sucking your cock. Even closing your eyes momentarily, you feel her working your shaft with a level of skill, which you aren’t used to. Like before, her technique is too good for you to handle long term. How Tiffany’s lips wrap around your tip. How they slowly glide along your length. How she sucks on your dick, while keeping an airtight seal around it. How one hand gently cups your balls, while the other keeps drawing circles on your chest. How her tongue swirls around your tip, whenever she lifts her head. How it seems to wiggle around your cock like a snake, when Tiffany almost reaches your base.

A particularly tight grip of her lips around your cock makes you thrust upwards a little. If you didn’t have yourself under control at that moment, that would’ve been it. You would’ve blown your load into her mouth without warning. But you do your best to keep your cool. You still have something to prove. Trying to think of something else, you close your eyes again. Maybe you should surprise her? Should you end this pleasurable torture and leave her heaven like mouth? But what would you do then? How would Tiffany react?

You hesitate. You’re afraid she might back off. Might call off this whole thing.

“Improvisation and surprise. That’s what draws a viewer in. Excitement.”

Your late father’s words suddenly echo through your head as you reach the verge of your orgasm. You don’t know how your mind got there. But as always, your father is right.

You reach forward and push Tiffany’s hair a little to the side, cupping her cheek. She leans into your palm a little, humming in acknowledgement. You brace yourself. Gone is your urge to shoot your load down Tiffany’s throat. For some reason, she has triggered your competitive spirit with the way she is sucking you off.

Tiffany lifts her head once more, her lips gliding across your cock. When she reaches your tip, you feel that tongue again. How it swirls around your tip. How she-

You stop yourself. You count to three inside your head. All or nothing.

A frown appears on Tiffany’s forehead as she feels you slowly pulling her off your cock. Her mouth is already empty when she looks towards you. You quickly wrap your legs around her torso. You feel her struggle for a second on instinct. But a second later, you already roll you both over. You land on top of Tiffany, who has a surprised look on her face. She didn’t expect you to be able to do this.

A grin appears on your lips as you steal a kiss from her.

“Since I saw you downstairs, I wanted to know what your pussy tastes like.”

You lean down and suck on Tiffany’s neck. A moan leaves her lips and you could swear she is smiling now.

“Do you always dress this sexy, when your daughter has friends over?”

Tiffany gasps. Not intentionally. She is very surprised by your change of attitude. She was able to tell that you weren’t as confident and experienced as the other men she's been with. She had been wondering if she made the right call. It was still weird to her to be doing this with a boy. With her neighbor’s son, to be exact. She felt how close you were to already cuming down her throat mere seconds ago.

But now, you’re on top of her. Tiffany feels how your lips slightly suck on her skin. How you give her neck small bites. Your free hand has moved to take a handful of her right breast, now squeezing it through her bra.

For a second, she wonders if this is all an act. An act to make the video as good as possible. But then again…

You couldn’t just do this without some sort of proper confidence.

Tiffany glances at your phone, making sure that you’re still doing that part of your job properly, before she completely lets you take over. She feels your control over her as your weight pins her to the mattress underneath her.

You quickly reach under her back and undo her bra with one hand. You practiced this long enough, after the first time with your ex. It took you way too long to take her bra off. Even with two hands. But your work pays off now. Tiffany lets out a sigh as she bites her lip, feeling your hand exposing her chest. Your lips move from her neck to her collarbone, while your free hand plays with her tits.

“Yes, baby.”

The woman underneath you moans into your ear. You move on from her neck soon enough, leaving a trail of kisses on your way to her chest. Once you reach her tits, your hand moves further down too. It glides over Tiffany’s tight tummy as you lick her breasts. You occasionally take a slightly brown nipple into your mouth and suck on it. Your actions make Tiffany arch her back into the air, further towards your lips and your tongue.

Meanwhile, your hand has reached her garter belt. You slip past it, feeling her belly button underneath your palm. As your fingertips touch the hem of her panties, you playfully bite into one of her nipples. Not hard. But the unexpected stimulation makes Tiffany moan out loud.

“Holy fuck!”

You are not as inexperienced as she thought you were. Your lips now follow your hand’s path, leaving Tiffany desperate for another bite.

Just as your fingertips graze her pussy lips underneath the red lace, you pull them away. You hear her breath hitch as you place your hand on her thigh. The milky white flesh feels soft, but firm at the same time. The red strap that connects her stockings to her belt is being pressed into your palm as Tiffany flexes her thighs. She feels your mouth coming closer. You record the place where your lips just were as you finally reach her panties. You lift your head, taking a moment to do a close up shot of her lace covered core. Glancing at her face, you see Tiffany’s red cheeks. Her aroused and slightly curious face makes you smile on the inside. You’re proud of yourself for making her crumble underneath your touches.

Moving your phone a little out of the way again, you lean forward. You plant a kiss on her panties, quickly inhaling her scent.

“You’re way too good at this.”

You wonder if that’s Tiffany who said that, or the character she is playing right now. Another kiss makes her hips buck in your direction.

“Don’t tease me.”

She sighs, giving you a desperate look, which you make sure to capture with your phone.

“Remember, you’re partially responsible for messing up my routine.”

You kiss her thigh instead, which makes her shake her head.

“No, please. You promised to make it up to me.”

Her desperate tone makes you give in. Your ex told you more than once how important foreplay is, so you always took it quite serious. But it seems like Tiffany has already had enough.

Because you can’t just take off her panties, you pull them to the side. A mouthwatering sight reveals itself to you as her slightly brown lips glisten with arousal. You quickly do another close up shot, but your excitement makes you cut it short. Soon, your lips kiss a circle around her lips as you already have a slight hint of her taste on them.

“You make me so wet.”

Another sigh from Tiffany as she reaches for a fistful of your hair. You feel her grab the phone, so you hand it over to her. You can’t see it, but you can almost feel how she films you, while you start to swipe your tongue over her folds. You do the same motion over and over again. Swiping your tongue from the bottom to the top. Whenever you come too close to her clit, Tiffany clamps her thighs together, letting a moan escape her lips. The only problem is, that your head is in between them. You use both your hands to take a hold of her thighs, not wanting to get crushed, as Tiffany moans and whines. You can’t believe that Yeji’s mother is making these sounds because of you. You never thought you would see her in only underwear, or naked ,or, specifically, her bare pussy.

You’re still trying to pinpoint what exactly Tiffany tastes like. Does her pussy taste like strawberries too? Just like her lips? Not really. It tastes a little different. You dive deeper, trying to get to the bottom of this. Your tongue now roams inside her velvet tunnel, making Tiffany’s head fall back. Her hand in your hair starts to make your scalp burn as she keeps tugging at it harder and harder. She keeps pressing your face right into her pussy as you lick and eat her out with all your might.

The sweet, but slightly salty taste of her juices invade your mouth, while you make Tiffany moan and gasp. Her state of mind switches constantly from surprise, to pure lust, to confusion, to arousal and back to surprise. She didn’t expect this at all from you.

Yes, it’s not the best oral sex she’s ever gotten. And your technique is a little sloppy. But Tiffany didn’t even expect you to have a technique. She thought you were too young. Too inexperienced to properly pleasure a woman like her. But you’re proving her wrong right now. The way your tongue glides along the insides of her pussy. The way it occasionally changes its path and gives her clit a flick. The way you bury your face deep into her core. Tiffany is pleasantly surprised at your visible love for her pussy. More often than not was she with guys, who never even bothered eating her out. And if they did, she felt like they were seeing it as a chore. But you seem to enjoy having your tongue buried deep inside her snatch.

Your effort and your pure intention to just make her feel good makes Tiffany mewl and shake. Her thighs close around your head again and again. Her hand pulls you further into her core.

She knows that you’re not quite there yet. Your work is enough to make her fall apart though. To moan your name and breathlessly beg for more. Tiffany wonders, with only a little bit of teaching, you could probably make her cum once or twice on a regular basis. The thought alone makes her pussy even wetter. But it also makes her long for you even more. She suddenly feels the great urge to properly feel you inside of her. She needs you to finally fill her with your cock.

“Need your cock, baby.”

Tiffany whines, her hand in your hair, gently pushing you off her cunt.

“Give it to me.”

She hands you your phone and you make sure her whole body is in focus once more. You kneel in front of her as you stroke your shaft, which is still wet from her earlier blowjob. You can’t help but feel excitement rush through your veins. Up until now, everything was perfect. You still can’t believe your luck. Two blowjobs and the opportunity to eat out Tiffany Hwang. Your attempt to make Yeji’s life hell has already proven to be more pleasurable than you could’ve ever imagined.

And now, you place your cock on top of her labia. Her juices glisten on her skin and you start to rub your cock against her lips.

“Oh, gosh. No teasing!”

Tiffany’s needy voice doesn’t stop you from building your own anticipation as high as possible. This is the moment you’ve dreamed of for years. You still remember the first time you touched yourself to Yeji’s mom. It was summer and you were invited to some neighbor’s garden party. Tiffany showed up in a very tight dress that showed off her ass and a very low cut neckline. Since that day, you imagined her so often while you-

Tiffany interrupts your thoughts by slinging her legs around your waist. The red fabric rubs against your skin as she takes your hand into hers, your cock now freely resting on top of her cleanly shaven cunt.

“Stop playing with me already, baby. I can’t take it anymore.”

Your world starts to spin as Tiffany pulls the same move that you pulled on her earlier. Once more, you’re lying on your back, while Tiffany sits on your lap. Her pussy still rubbing against your cock.

“You’ve got to learn this lesson, baby. “

Tiffany reaches down to stroke your shaft. Her face is marked with pleasure as her dominating stare seems to burn your soul.

“I’m not a patient woman. If I say I need cock, then I do mean I need cock.”

With those words, Tiffany lifts herself off your lap and positions herself right above your tip. Her labia grazes it once more and you feel her fingers hold your cock in place. You make sure your phone catches your cock penetrating her pussy. You almost let it slip out of your hand. It has been a while since you had sex with your ex. But even if you would have cum during the blowjob earlier, you would be just as close to your orgasm as you are now. Her velvet walls squeeze your tip as Tiffany lowers herself onto your cock.

“Oh my gosh!”

You hope the set up camera captures her face, because the only body parts you are able to move are your eyes. They switch between the sight of her pussy engulfing your cock, to watching how a high pitched moan leaves her mouth as she bites her lips, and back to your shaft disappearing inside her cunt.

“You’re so big inside me. I love your cock.”

Tiffany gasps as she slides down your shaft. The more she takes, the more strength the both of you need to keep it together. One of her hands has found itself entangled in her brown hair, messing it up as she tugs and pulls on it, trying to get accustomed to you being inside of her. Her other hand is pressed flat on your chest, giving her enough stability to keep sitting upright. Your own free hand can’t hold itself back anymore. You reach upwards to squeeze one of her breasts, which makes Tiffany’s head roll back.

Under heavy moans, she slowly begins to ride you. It is a fantastic show she is able to pull off. How her hips meet yours. How her waist moves when she rolls her hips a little. How her tits slightly bounce. How her red lips produce moan after moan.

And the feeling. You can’t really describe it. Your time with your ex now seems like a smudged water painting, while Tiffany’s ride makes you feel like looking at an 8k picture. Her slick cunt coats your cock with her juices. Her nails slightly dig into your chest. The stimuli that flood your brain seem to overload your mind.

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time you have to curse under your breath. Tiffany just lifted her legs a little, placing her instep on your thighs. You feel the red fabric rub against your skin. Most of her weight is now being supported by her knees on the mattress and her hand on your chest. Tiffany leans over, showing off her tight tummy to the camera, while her hair falls into her face.

You raise your upper body and capture one of her nipples with your mouth.

“Gosh, yes!”

By now, both her hands have found their place on your chest. Tiffany keeps her slightly bent over position as she keeps bouncing on your cock. Her smooth walls make your cock as hard as it has never been before. You eagerly suck on her tits as you aim your phone at her pussy. The sounds of her cheeks clapping against your lap fills the room, accompanied by her moans and an occasional groan from you. Your hand, which was fondling her tits, is now right above her pussy. Your thumb flicks against her clit. The result is louder moaning. An increase of pace in her riding. And visibly more scratch marks than before.

You actually manage to drive Tiffany towards her orgasm. Which quickly proves to be a bad thing for you. Her cunt squeezes you harder with every flick of your thumb against her clit. She now slams herself down all the way to your base, making her pussy take every last inch of you. Now you’re close too.

“Damn, you have such a nice pussy.”

You manage to say through your teeth, trying to hold in the inevitable. Tiffany pulls off a satisfied smile. But her focus is certainly needed elsewhere. She can’t believe you’re actually able to hold out this long. For a second, she thought you were gonna cum after only a minute, when she saw your reaction to your cock disappearing inside of her. Now she is on the verge of her own orgasm. She can feel you twitch inside of her. Your face tells her that the two of you either cum together, or no one cums. Tiffany decides on the latter. The video isn’t finished yet. If you want to make more appearances in the future, she will need to test you a little more. So far, your cock definitely qualifies. But what about your fucking? She has been the only one working hard up until now.

Tiffany slows down drastically. It unintentionally makes you thrust upwards once or twice, before you have yourself under control. Tiffany leans further down, her mouth now next to your ear.

“Time to work me out properly.”

You turn your head slightly, pulling Tiffany into another kiss. Your lips stay locked for a while as her hips slowly move in circles around your dick.

“Get on all fours.”

Tiffany was about to suggest the next position, but you beat her to it. A satisfied smile plays around her lips as she slowly gets off you.

“That’s right, baby. Make me take your cock like a slut.”

Her words trigger something primal in you. Maybe that was her intention anyway.

As soon as Tiffany is in position, you kneel behind her. Your phone captures how you slap both her ass cheeks once, before squeezing them softly.

A moan echoes through the room as Tiffany feels her cheeks burn up after another spank. She directly faces the camera, standing on the tripod, right at the edge of the bed. She could touch it, if she stretched out her arm. She bites her lip as she feels you aligning your cock with her pussy. You rub your tip against her labia again, teasing her a little.

“You’re such a bad boy.”

Tiffany sighs, feeling how you barely graze her pussy. She secretly loves how you tease her. You turn her into a begging slut in front of the camera.

“Oh yes! Right there!”

Tiffany lets out a loud moan, when you finally do push inside her again. Your hand automatically glides over her slightly arched back. You marvel at how smooth her skin feels, while her walls pull you further into her. You take a hold of her red lace garterbelt, slightly twisting the fabric to use it as a makeshift rein. You pull her onto your cock, while thrusting forward.

“Oh lord!”

Tiffany lets out a surprised yelp, surprised by you suddenly bottoming out inside of her. You quickly settle in a rhythm that works for you and start to fuck Tiffany from behind. Moans spill from her lips, her fists open and close around her sheets, her feet shuffle around as you use her pussy. Her insides feel just as good as when she rode you a moment ago. But now that you had a taste of her warm depth, you start to become greedy. You want to go as deep into her body as you can. You want to feel how her body completely swallows your cock. How her labia stretches around your shaft.

You put some pressure with your hand on her back. It makes Tiffany arch her back further, her upper body getting closer to the mattress. Her body’s center of gravity moves forward, which lifts her feet off the mattress. Once more, Tiffany’s clothed insteps touch your body. They rest on your hips, which makes her ass look even rounder. You can feel yourself now being able to just push that little bit deeper into her. It makes you increase your pace and you keep pushing her further down.

Finally, Tiffany’s head rests on the mattress. She still tries to keep eye contact with the camera. She does her best fuck-me face. Biting her lower lip, frowning, her eyes only half open. But she can’t keep it up for long. Your thrusts into her cunt makes her feet, which are pressed against your hips, hit her ass. With every thrust, her heels dig into her cheeks.

“Gosh, baby! You’re so deep! I-”

Tiffany’s sentence is interrupted by another loud moan, when you reach down to grab one of her arms. You put it on her back and make her close her hand around her garterbelt. You do the same with the second one. Now, Tiffany’s face is buried in the sheets, her muffled moans are only barely audible over your hips smacking against her ass. You know that her viewers would love to see her pleasure wrecked face though. At least you would.

You reach out to grab a fistful of her hair and make it into a makeshift ponytail. You lift her head by pulling at it.

“Oh fuck!”

Tiffany greets you with a loud cry as she feels you fucking her as deep as you possibly can.

“That’s it, baby!”

You feel her cunt tightening around you, whenever you pull on her hair a little. Her upper body is completely in the air, only supported by your grip on her hair and her own hands on her garterbelt. Her back still shows off a beautiful arch though and you can see a small trail of sweat run down towards her ass.

“Fuck me harder!”

Tiffany whines loudly as you keep using your control over her entire body to pleasure yourself. She has given up trying to look sexy for the camera for a while now. Her mouth is now just hanging open, her tongue slightly visible as she takes your pounding from behind.

“Fucking use my pussy!”

You feel it tighten at her own words. You’re surprised how much she is enjoying it. You really hope you’re proving to her that this was a great idea.

“Make me your bitch! Yes!”

Tiffany cries out as you bottom out in her cunt again and again. A strand of her hair has escaped your fingers and is now swinging to your rhythm on the right side of her face.

“Fill me with this young cock!”

Her moans get louder and louder. But unfortunately, you are starting to reach your breaking point once more. There isn’t much left in you. You have to admit that your muscles are starting to grow tired. Your ability to hold back your orgasm becomes weaker. Letting a shaky breath escape your lips, you let go of Tiffany’s hair. She falls face first into the mattress, accompanied by a surprised yelp.

“You’re way too tight, Ms Hwang. I’m gonna cum soon.”

Before she can react properly, you turn her over. Tiffany manages to take her hands off the garterbelt, before she lies on her back. Her messed up hair hides parts of her face as she looks up at you with anticipation. Before you started recording, the two of you decided on how to end your sex scene. As much as you would’ve liked to cum in her mouth again, or maybe even inside her pussy, her suggestion wasn’t that bad either.

Now that she is lying in a missionary position in front of you, you grab the red lace around her waist once more. Your phone is focused on her whole body yet again, as you begin your final sprint towards the end. Her stocking covered legs wrap around your hips, keeping you in place. She doesn’t even have to do that. Nothing in this world could stop you from fucking her right now. You watch how your entire cock penetrates her pretty lips again and again. Her smooth skin around her cunt glistens with sweat and her own juices. Pulling Tiffany towards you, using the garterbelt, has you penetrate her as deep as possible yet again.

You feel your cock starting to throb. And judging by the increasing volume of her moans, so does she.

“Yeah! Cum on me, baby!”

“Fuck.”

You grunt in response, unable to hold yourself back as you fuck her as hard and deep as possible.

“Paint me! Make me your bitch!”

You know you won’t last a moment longer. You feel a familiar pull and you quickly try to pull out of Tiffany’s warm cunt. Almost too late. A second later, you cum on her pussy.

“Oh yes, baby. Claim my pussy.”

A groan leaves your mouth. Stars dance around in front of your eyes. Your knees buckle. You do your best, to keep your eyes open. You want to see what you did to Tiffany.

Her pussy is covered in your cum, her slightly brown lips sticky with semen. A small trail runs down her skin, heading towards her ass and the sheets.

The both of you are trying to catch your breath, once you finally finish. You keep recording her, showing how Tiffany’s tits and her stomach move up and down, before you do a close up shot of her cum covered cunt.

“Oh my gosh.”

You hear her sigh, a satisfied smile on her face. You watch and record how Tiffany reaches down and starts to play with your cum on her pussy. She slowly rubs her clit and occasionally lets a finger disappear inside her cunt.

“You can turn it off now.”

You look at her and stop the recording. Staying silent, you wait for her verdict, although it seemed like she was satisfied with your performance.

“Not bad for a boy. I could see us doing this again.”

You can’t hide your wide smile, excitement washing through your body.

“But if you lied to me and this kind of theme doesn’t help me at all…”

“It will.”

You sound surprisingly confident. But then again, who wouldn’t be, after experiencing possibly the best sex in your life.

Tiffany nods and starts to get off the bed. You do the same, but you can’t help but glance at her, while the two of you get dressed.

“Let's do the ending scene.”

Tiffany has slipped her panties back to their original place, put on her bra and thrown her silk robe over her shoulders.

The two of you now stand in front of the door, just like you planned earlier. You make sure that Tiffany is in focus, before hitting the record button once more. She opens the door a little, but then looks at the camera.

“I hope my daughter has another sleepover soon. I would hate it, if I would have to wait too long for you to come back.”

“Don’t worry, Ms Hwang. I’m sure she will do one again on her birthday.”

“Oh! You’re right.”

An excited smile plays around Tiffany’s lips.

Then, she steps closer, her face almost touching yours. Her eyes become seductive once more.

“I won’t be able to wait till morning though, if I know you’re sleeping in the next room.”

She takes your free hand and guides it towards her core. Your fingers dive underneath her panties. You make sure that the camera captures that.

“I’m gonna try to sneak out as soon as I can. But we stayed up very late yesterday. I doubt we will go to bed earlier next time.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Her hand reaches down, cupping your balls.

“The possibility is very slim. But if I do fall asleep early…”

Tiffany whispers, before kissing your cheekbone, her hand now stroking your cock over your pants.

“Don’t bother waking me up.”

Her voice becomes barely audible as she looks directly into your eyes, her other hand pushing your finger deep inside of her.

“Just put it in.”

“Fuck, yes!”

You whisper, when you see that Tiffany has sent you a video. It's almost midnight and you’re lying in your bed, about to go to sleep. You have actual footage of you, fucking Yeji’s mom. After years and years of fights and humiliation, you finally hold the ultimate weapon in your hand. You know that Yeji will be at Eunha’s party tomorrow. Now, you only need a plan for getting the video to her.

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

Hello everyone!

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new series "SNSD Village". There will be many more epsidoes to come, so please stay tuned. I will post the polls, which can infleunce the next chapter, later.

Stay healthy, everyone!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #snsd village #snsd smut #snsd tiffany #snsd #girls generation tiffany #girls generation #girls generation smut #tiffany young #tiffany #eunha #jisoo #yuri #minju #yeji

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barcaatthemoon · 4 months ago

Text

in your corner || barcelona x teen!reader ||

the team shows up to your graduation when your parents don't.

it didn't feel right sitting in the back of a taxi. you should have been riding to your graduation with your family, but they had deemed your brother's track meet more important. they believed that one day, he'd be an olympian, despite the fact that you already were. it had always been like that in your family though, your brother's accomplishments outshining yours no matter the difference.

today, you graduated from school, which you had attended while also easing your way into soccer full time. anybody else would have thought that was a marvel in and of itself except for your parents. because it was you, they only questioned why you weren't top of your class. any bit of excellence on your part looked like the pinnacle of mediocracy in your parents' eyes.

in hindsight, yelling at them to just forget about you was not your best idea. it was why after this, you were packing up your things and moving them into a new apartment. there had been an opening in bruna's building, so you took it. you could easily afford the apartment with your salary at the club, especially not that you'd be getting starter time.

the taxi came to a stop, and you were careful in picking your facial expression for the day. this was a happy day, and you couldn't let your peers know how disappointed you were about your parents abandoning you. you kept a happy face on during the ceremony, one that was fake until you looked out into the crowd while you accepted your diploma to see your teammates.

it was unmistakablely every single one of them sitting there, including girls who you had briefly played with on the b and youth teams. your heart swelled with joy, and for the first time that day, your tears were happy ones. suddenly, you couldn't wait for the ceremony to end so you could go see them. each of those girls had become like family for you, and it was your first taste of what family was supposed to be like. they were your support system, always cheering you on no matter what endeavor you pursued.

"no more homework!" mapi exclaimed as she scooped you up into a hug. you laughed as she spun you around and around. her least favorite part of every practice was when alexia made you sit with vicky while you studied or finished up your school work. in mapi's mind, that was always during prime goofing off time. "come on, my mami wants pictures."

you let yourself get pushed around for several sets of pictures with your teammates. none of them mentioned the absence of your parents, most likely thanks to a briefing from alexia and patri. slowly, they all began to shuffle out and disperse, leaving you to catch a ride with aitana and keira for lunch. it was a team thing, so more of the girls would be there, but keira had quickly claimed the spot to drive you there.

"i'm proud of you kiddo," keira said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. there had been a lot of changes during the season, and while the change scared you, keira had been like your rock. she was the biggest help to you learning english and solidifying your spot in one of the best midfields in the world. "i've got a surprise for you when we get to the restaurant."

"a surprise?" you perked up instantly. it was somewhat childish, but you loved surprises. usually, they were good when it came to your teammates. you knew that keira would never do anything to hurt you, having taken you under her wing like you were her child. both of your english teammates had, but lucy had departed from spain a couple weeks ago.

you had been more than a bit bummed out by the news, but you understood. lucy had done what she felt she needed to at barcelona. you were also going to be on your way out temporarily. you had spoken with your coaches and management about going to college, and they had signed off on you taking a gap year to play the next season before you went off to america. you were committed to a school, but you had yet to tell your teammates which one.

lunch was nice, despite the fact that you couldn't focus because you kept trying to figure out what keira's surprise was. it wasn't until you noticed several of your teammates filming you that you got a bit nervous. luckily, you didn't have to wait too long after the cameras were brought out. alexia mentioned something about dessert, and when you turned around expecting to see the waiter, you saw lucy standing there in a tarheels shirt.

"i didn't tell anybody," you mumbled, unaware of how they could have known where you were going.

"sorry that i missed your graduation, but i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to watch you next year in carolina," lucy said as she wrapped one arm around you. the little plate with a slice of cake was set in front of you, but you didn't pay it any mind. you wrapped your arms around lucy's body in a tight hug. "score some goals for me, okay?"

"i'll try for more than what i score against you." everybody at the table laughed at your joke, except for lucy, who knew that you were serious. she could be the best in the world, and you'd still managed to get one or two past her. the whole team would work to make sure that you did. they wanted the world to know how good you were, which lucy knew would make for an interesting champion's league with her new team.

"we'll see about that," lucy mumbled as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. you glanced around you at your teammates and friends surrounding you. it was the happiest that you'd ever been, but something told you that there was only going to be more to come with them in your life.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona x reader #barcelona imagine #teen reader #platonic fic

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meangirls-imagines · 10 months ago

Text

Rest and Relaxation

"who's that?"

"that is the queen bee regina george. do not look her in the eye. she can smell fear."

cady rolled her eyes at damian giggling. in the small amount of time that she had known him, he had been very dramatic. janis also rolled her eyes. "she can't smell fear. but he is right, don't look her in the eyes." cady watched as the blonde girl walked up to her table holding cheese fries, sitting next to the girl that damian said "has hair full of secrets".

there was a thud as the trio turned spotting a girl struggling to carry her backpack, books, and lunch. the girl looked over at the trio, noticing janis and damian and shyly waved. they all waved back and watched as she stumbled past them.

"who's that?" damian shook his head. "that's y/n, regina's girlfriend." cady looked at the two shocked. she didn't think regina was gay. "really? she's so...shy." janis nodded as they watched y/n finally make it to the plastics table. regina's face lit up at the sight of her girlfriend. y/n smiled back and sat next to the blonde, unloading everything on the table. regina pulled y/n into a kiss, making the girl blush.

"hi baby. how is your day going?" y/n blushed deeper at the petname. "its going fine gina. i just have a lot of work to do." y/n was a nerd in the best sense. she had the highest gpa of the whole school, she was a mathlete, and she was in all advanced classes. she also had a really bad habit of overworking herself. regina hated watching her girlfriend burn out so she did her best to step in before it got bad.

"how about you come to my house with us after school? we can do a spa day for you. get you to relax a little. i know how stressed you've been." y/n's heart melted at her girlfriend's worry. as much as she wanted to do that, she had a mathletes meeting after school followed by sat prep until late at night.

y/n shook her head. "i wish i could gina, but i have mathletes until 4 and then sat prep until 8 and then i still have to finish my essay." regina sighed, scooting closer and scratching y/n's back to get her to relax a little. their moment was ruined when y/n's brother shane walked up to them. "ladies, nice to see you guys today. y/n, chris was wondering if you could possibly look over his history paper and see if its good enough for at least a b minus."

regina was about to speak up when y/n beat her to it. "yeah, just give it to me before i go to mathletes and tell him i'll have it back to him by tomorrow morning." shane smiled and ruffled his sister's hair, placing a brief kiss on her head. "thanks sis. i'll let him know." y/n smiled as her brother walked away. regina looked at her girlfriend worriedly. y/n shook her head. "it's fine gina. i'll be okay."

the bell rang, dismissing lunch as y/n stuffed all of her things in her backpack, kissing regina and heading off to her next class. gretchen watched regina deflate as y/n walked away. she put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. "she'll be fine regina." the blonde sighed. "i hope you're right."

y/n sighed as she opened her locker the next morning. she didn't get home until late last night and woke up earlier than usual to go with shane to football practice to give chris his essay and finish up any homework she missed the night before. she was exhausted and just wanted to go home. unfortunately for her, the world doesn't work like that and it was only going to get much worse.

for backstory, regina and y/n had been friends since 4th grade. regina had been very protective over the girl since they first met all those years ago. they met when regina stepped in and stopped a few boys from shoving y/n around. and since then, nothing had changed. regina was just as if not more protective over the girl. they had come out at the end of 8th grade which just boosted the protectiveness. ever since they came out as a couple, less people picked on y/n, though there were some who just didn't get the message.

enter ian. who had harbored a major crush on regina even after she came out. he was the stereotypical high school male. he was the captain of the basketball team, he was ripped, he was hot and every girl in north shore (except the plastics and y/n) wanted him. he felt like he was a better match for regina than y/n was and never failed to make his opinion shown every once in a while.

regina and the plastics hadn't made it to school yet and shane was in the locker room so this was his perfect opportunity. he and a couple of his friends walked up to y/n, who was reading over her ap chem homework and not paying attention. "hey there nerd. i see your guard dog isn't here." y/n rolled her eyes. "no ian, regina isn't here yet. can i help you with something?"

that was apparently the wrong thing to say as ian slapped the papers out of her hand and shoved her against a the locker next to her. at this point, people had started recording on their phones. y/n winced at the impact as the group of boys started laughing. "you don't get to have an attitude with me nerd. i think you forget where you fall on this food chain. allow me to remind you."

he brought his fist back to swing at y/n but the punch never came. the only thing y/n saw of her savior was pink nails before she was let go and ian was flying the other way. y/n looked up to see an angry regina flanked by an equally angry karen and gretchen. the two obviously weren't as close to y/n as regina was but they also had a protectiveness over her.

ian looked up scared as his friends fled the scene. karen and gretchen helped y/n pick her stuff up and dusted her off. ian shrunk in fear as regina towered over him. "i don't think you understand where you fall on this food chain, but allow me to remind YOU. you do not compare to y/n. she is so far above you that you don't even exist in her world. that being said, if i ever see you mess with her again, you will be finished."

he nodded and scrambled away. regina looked at the crowd that had formed. "anyone else have a problem with my girlfriend?" the crowd scattered as everyone went back to what they were doing. regina smirked victoriously before pulling y/n into an empty classroom, karen and gretchen standing guard outside.

regina looked over y/n for any injuries before y/n's grabbed her shaky hands and kissed both of them softly. "i'm okay, gina. just a little shaken up." regina let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding before pulling y/n into her arms. "i'm so sorry i wasn't there. i couldn't find my keys before we left so it put us behind-" y/n pressed her lips to regina's. the blonde instantly calmed as the two kissed, y/n being the first to pull away. "breathe babe. i'm okay. he's not going to mess with me again."

regina nodded and pulled y/n into another kiss, this one quicker than the last. "will you please come over after school today? i wanna take care of you. it's the weekend so you can stay the whole weekend while i help you relax. please." y/n nodded. "if it will make you feel better, yes." regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips. "good. i wasn't taking no for an answer. now, let me walk you to class?" y/n nodded and the two made their way out of the room.

regina stood against her jeep, waiting for y/n. karen and gretchen had hitched rides from shane so that way regina could take her girl straight home.the front doors to the school opened to reveal an exhausted looking y/n. regina's heart broke at the sight of the girl, she looked more exhausted than she did when the blonde saw her at lunch.

y/n shuffled to the jeep, regina grabbing her backpacks and throwing them in the backseat (carefully of course) before helping y/n into the passenger seat. regina walked around and got in, holding y/n's hand and kissing it. the girl sent her a sleepy smile and leaned her head against the window.

regina made it to her house in record time. she left the girl's bags in her car, making a mental note to ask her dad to grab them later. she helped y/n in the house and to her room, gently laying her on her huge bed. "stay right here baby. i'm gonna go run us a bath." y/n sleepily nodded, nuzzling into regina's pillow.

five minutes later, regina came out in a fluffy, pink robe, gently shaking y/n awake. "come on baby. let's get you in the bath." y/n stirred and nodded. the blonde helped her to her feet, gently pulling her into the bathroom. from there, she slowly took y/n's clothes off, head to toe. regina then got into the tub and guided y/n in, holding her to her chest.

the couple stayed in the bath for about half an hour before regina decided to get them out. luckily, y/n had been over to the blonde's house enough that she had her own little section in regina's massive closet. regina grabbed a hoodie and a pink pair of boxers for y/n and a hoodie for herself before getting them both dressed and into the bed.

y/n sunk into the soft mattress as regina gently maneuvered her to lay her head on her chest. y/n kissed regina's jaw and nuzzled into her neck. regina began scratching her nails down y/n's back. "take a nap and then when you wake up, i'll make you some dinner, and then maybe followed by dessert and a massage?"

y/n nodded before fully drifting off.

a few hours later, y/n woke up to the smell of her favorite pasta. she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched, getting out of bed and heading downstairs. she found regina cooking dinner with her "y/n❤️" playlist playing softly from her speaker. y/n smiled at how soft the queen bee looked before walking up and wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist.

regina smiled at the feel of her girlfriend snuggling into her back, turning the burner off and turning around. "hi baby. sleep good?" y/n nodded, pressing her lips to regina's. "what's for dinner?" regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips before explaining. "i made your favorite, cacio e pepe, some salad and garlic bread, and for dessert i made a lemon tiramisu. and after we are done eating, i am giving you a massage to get the stress of the week and especially today out of that sexy body of yours and we are going to cuddle up on my bed and watch some love is blind and you are going to sleep for more than five hours."

y/n smiled at her girlfriend, already feeling the stress of the week melt away. regina always took care of her when she needed it and she couldn't be more grateful to have her as her girlfriend. "god, i love you." regina blushed and kissed y/n's cheek. "i love you too. now, let's eat."

after they ate dinner and dessert, regina ordered y/n to take off her shirt and lay face down on the bed while she slipped in the bathroom. y/n did as told and winced a little before tossing the shirt off to the side and laying down. regina came out and lit a few candles before dropping the oil and bruise cream on the bed. she straddled y/n's lower back and gently ran her hands down the girl's back.

she leaned down and kissed y/n's shoulder gently. y/n sighed at the feel of the blonde's lips and whispered, "i love you gina." regina smiled, grabbing the bruise cream and started applying it to the newly forming bruises on y/n's back. "i love you too baby."

after a very, very, relaxing massage, y/n laid in between regina's legs as they watched "love is blind". regina had her fingers running through y/n's hair, scratching her scalp with her acrylics. y/n was drawing shapes on regina's stomach, the blonde girl shivering every once in a while. after a few episodes, regina asked y/n if she wanted anything to drink before realizing y/n was asleep. smiling, she carefully reached over to the nightstand to grab her phone, taking a picture of y/n.

she took to instagram to post the picture, smiling at the amount of cute comments their friends were leaving. she put her phone back and gently guided her and y/n into a more comfortable position. once comfy, she placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, slowly drifting off.

#regina george imagine #regina george x reader #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024

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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

Text

They Were Never You

Summary: Spencer finds family and maybe more while at university.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, light angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer and reader are 12-18 in this, teenage angst, teenage hormones, absent parents, Spencer's mom, arguing, bad relationships, reader is a cheerleader, use of Y/N, reader only has a mom

Word count: 5.4k

a/n: spencer baby i want you to be happy you don't need any more sadness in your storyline !!

main masterlist

Starting college at the tender age of 12 was undeniably daunting for Spencer Reid. The vast campus, the mature students, and the intense coursework all contributed to a whirlwind of emotions that he had to navigate. Fortunately, he found some solace in knowing that his assigned advisor was not only understanding but also one of the leading professors in his field. It was a slight disappointment, though, that he wouldn’t attend her lectures until he reached his upper-division courses.

One afternoon, Spencer had a scheduled meeting with his advisor, Jan, late in the day. He nervously approached her office, his small frame barely reaching the little window as he knocked softly.

“Hi, Spencer! Please come in and sit down,” Jan greeted warmly, her smile putting him at ease.

“Hello,” he replied quietly, his eyes flickering over to a girl sitting in the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry, this is my daughter, Y/N. She hangs out with me after school gets out. I hope you don’t mind that she sits in on our meeting,” Jan explained, noticing Spencer’s curiosity.

“No—uh, no, that’s fine,” Spencer stammered, taking a seat opposite Jan.

A few minutes into their meeting, Jan’s phone buzzed insistently. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “I’m terribly sorry, Spencer, but I have to take this call. It’s quite important. I’ll be back shortly,” she apologized, stepping out of the room.

Left alone, Spencer fidgeted with his hands, feeling the awkward silence stretch. You, always the social one, saw an opportunity to break the ice.

“So, Spencer, how old are you?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by the boy who seemed out of place among the usual college crowd.

“12,” he replied, barely meeting your gaze.

“Me too! How come you’re in college?” you continued, genuinely interested.

“I’m really smart,” Spencer said simply, his voice tinged with pride and modesty.

“Hmm, okay… what’s 10395 divided by 15?” you asked, testing him with random numbers that popped into your head.

“693,” he answered without hesitation.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t even know if that’s right, but I totally believe you,” you said, your tone filled with genuine awe.

Spencer giggled shyly at your response, the stuffy air in the room easing slightly. For the first time since he started college, he felt a bit of normalcy, sharing a simple, innocent moment with someone his own age.

—

Spencer found himself looking forward to the times he could schedule late appointments with Jan, his advisor. It wasn't for any particular reason, of course. He definitely needed to see her later in the day to fit into his very busy schedule, and it was absolutely necessary for him to meet with her multiple times per term.

As the months went by, these late afternoon meetings became a regular occurrence. Spencer would knock on Jan's office door, a little less nervous each time, and he always found you there, sitting in the corner, waiting for your mom to finish work.

One particular afternoon, Spencer arrived for another scheduled meeting. He knocked and entered the office, greeted by Jan's familiar, warm smile.

“Hi, Spencer! Come on in. How’s your day going?” she asked, motioning for him to take a seat.

“Hello, Dr. Jan. It’s been good, thank you,” Spencer replied, glancing over at you in the corner.

As the meeting progressed, Spencer couldn't help but steal glances in your direction. You would often be engrossed in a book or working on some homework, but you always looked up and gave him a friendly smile whenever you caught him looking.

After discussing his coursework and upcoming projects, Jan excused herself once again. She apologized as she stepped out, leaving you and Spencer alone in the office.

“So, Spencer, what are you learning about today?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Quantum mechanics,” Spencer replied, his voice gaining a bit of excitement. “It’s really fascinating.”

“Wow, that sounds complicated. Can you explain it to me?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Well, it’s about understanding the behavior of particles at the smallest scales. It’s like… imagine if you could see the tiniest building blocks of everything around us and how they move and interact with each other.”

You nodded, trying to grasp the concept. “That sounds really cool. Do you think I could understand it if I tried to learn?”

“Of course!” Spencer exclaimed, his enthusiasm growing. “You’re smart, Y/N. You can understand anything if you put your mind to it.”

You beamed at his encouragement. “Thanks, Spencer. Maybe one day you can teach me more about it.”

“I’d like that,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain.

When Jan returned, she found the two of you deep in conversation, a smile playing on her lips as she observed the budding friendship. Spencer left the office that day with a lighter heart, looking forward to the next late afternoon appointment, not just for the academic guidance, but for the chance to see you again.

—

As summer approached, Spencer found himself facing an unexpected dilemma. He had always assumed he would return home when college was out, but a recent revelation about his mother’s living situation in a care facility left him with nowhere to go. The thought of spending the summer alone and without a place to stay weighed heavily on his mind.

During one of his scheduled meetings with Jan, a meeting he had purposely chosen when he knew you wouldn’t be there, Spencer decided to bring up the issue. He entered the office, his usual composed demeanor slightly marred by worry.

“Hello, Spencer,” Jan greeted him warmly as usual. “What’s on your mind today?”

“Hi, Dr. Jan,” he began hesitantly, his fingers nervously tapping on the armrest of his chair. “I, um, have a problem. I don’t have anywhere to go for the summer.”

Jan’s expression softened with concern. “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“My mom... she’s living in a care facility, and there’s no other family I can stay with,” Spencer explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jan’s heart broke for the young boy sitting before her. Despite his remarkable intelligence and maturity, he was still just a child in need of care and support. She thought for a moment, weighing her options, and then made a decision.

“Spencer,” she said gently, leaning forward. “I can’t bear the thought of you being alone this summer. Would you consider staying with Y/N and me? We have plenty of room, and I’d love for you to spend the summer with us.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t want to be a burden, Dr. Jan.”

“You wouldn’t be a burden at all,” Jan assured him with a kind smile. “In fact, I think Y/N would be thrilled to have you around. You two get along so well, and it would be nice for you to have some company your age.”

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him. The idea of spending the summer with you and Jan, rather than facing the unknown alone, was a comforting one. “Thank you, Dr. Jan. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s settled then,” Jan said, her smile widening. “We’ll make sure you have a wonderful summer, Spencer. I’ll take care of all the arrangements. You just focus on finishing your term.”

As Spencer left the office that day, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt a sense of belonging and gratitude that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The prospect of spending the summer with you and Jan filled him with an unexpected sense of excitement and hope.

—

Spencer Reid’s summer with you and your mother, Jan, was transformative. The days started with shared breakfasts, where laughter and stories flowed freely. Spencer, ever the scholar, enjoyed the frequent library visits. You would tag along, your nose often buried in a novel, while Spencer delved into more complex topics. These trips were not just about books but about bonding over shared interests and knowledge.

Afternoons often saw the three of you venturing outdoors. Whether it was picnics in the park, hiking up hills, or friendly competitions in various activities, the time spent in nature fostered a sense of friendship and fun.

Evenings were reserved for deep conversations. Whether it was discussing a book, sharing personal stories, or stargazing in the backyard, these moments brought you and Spencer closer together. Spencer often found himself opening up about his past and his fears, finding comfort in the understanding and support from you.

Cooking together became another highlight of the summer. Jan would teach you and Spencer her favorite recipes, turning the kitchen into a hub of activity and laughter. You and Spencer would often compete to see who could make the best dish, with Jan serving as the delighted judge.

Through late-night talks, you and Spencer grew particularly close. You introduced him to music, movies, and other pop culture he had missed out on, while he helped you with your schoolwork, making complex subjects more approachable and even fun.

As the summer ended, Spencer left with a lighter heart, feeling a sense of belonging and gratitude. The bond you all had formed carried through the next year. Despite his busy college schedule, Spencer made time to help you with your schoolwork, exchanging notes, emails, and occasional visits to keep your friendship strong.

When the next summer arrived, Spencer once again stayed with you and Jan. The days were much the same, filled with learning, adventures, and deep conversations. This time, there was an added focus on preparing you for high school.

Spencer tutored you in advanced subjects, making sure you felt confident and ready for the challenges ahead. Jan and Spencer both helped you develop important life skills, from time management to effective study habits. Spencer also provided emotional support, sharing his own experiences and reassuring you about the transition to high school.

—

"It's so nice that you get to live in a dorm," you complained to Spencer, lying back on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Huh? Why?" Spencer asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Because you get to be alone. I would kill to constantly be alone," you replied, tone drenched in teenage angst.

"It, um, it's not that great," Spencer said, glancing at you.

"But like, you don't have someone constantly sticking their nose in your business and making you do chores and homework," you continued, a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's nice your mom cares about you so much," Spencer replied softly.

"Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to be inconsiderate," you said, sitting up and looking at him with genuine remorse.

"No, it's okay. I just don't really like being alone," Spencer admitted, his eyes meeting yours.

"You have me?" you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

"I know," Spencer smiled back at you, feeling a warmth in his chest.

The two of you were hanging out in your bedroom, no longer having to stay with your mom after school now that you were the ripe age of 15 years old. You and Spencer spent a lot of time together, having become best friends over the years. Little did you know, Spencer had developed a huge crush on you.

"Did I tell you that Taylor asked me to prom?" you suddenly announced, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Prom? You're a freshman. Who's Taylor?" Spencer asked, feeling a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest.

"They're a junior on the football team. They're really popular," you said, your excitement evident.

"Oh," Spencer muttered, trying to hide his disappointment.

"I thought you'd be excited for me… this is huge!" you exclaimed, leaning closer to him.

Spencer forced a smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah, it's, um, great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, your smile brightening as you reached over to give his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Spencer's heart ached with unspoken feelings, but he didn’t feel happy for you, his best friend, but he’s become pretty good at hiding his emotions. As you continued to talk about prom and your plans, Spencer listened intently, offering his support and trying his best to mask the growing crush he harbored for you.

—

Spencer sat in the backseat, nervously clutching the seatbelt as you practiced driving with your mom in the passenger seat.

"Okay, ease into the gas," your mom instructed calmly.

"Got it," you replied, trying to focus on the road ahead.

Spencer couldn't help but chime in, "You're doing great, Y/N."

"Thanks, Spence," you said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror with a smile.

"Remember to check your mirrors before changing lanes," your mom added, her tone patient.

You nodded, following her advice. "How do you stay so calm back there, Spencer?"

"I'm used to being in high-stress situations," he said with a small chuckle. "This is nothing compared to some of my classes."

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Glad to know my driving isn't as terrifying as quantum mechanics."

Spencer smiled, "Not even close."

—

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, concern evident in his voice as he saw you crying on your bed.

“Taylordumpedme!” you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying. Take a deep breath,” Spencer urged gently, trying to calm you down.

You took a shaky breath and repeated, “Taylor dumped me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Spencer said, his heart aching for you.

“Now I can’t go to prom! This is so humiliating! Everyone knows! I told the entire cheer team I was going, now practice is going to be so awkward,” you wailed, burying your face in your hands.

Spencer moved closer, hesitating for a moment before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You don’t need Taylor to go to prom. You can still go when you’re a junior.”

You looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. “But that’s so far away, and it won’t be the same. I was so excited, and now it’s all ruined.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another date,” Spencer said gently, trying to reassure you.

“Spencer! They were my soulmate!” you cried out, fresh tears streaming down your face.

Spencer’s heart ached seeing you so upset. “I know it feels that way now, but you’re amazing, Y/N. If they didn’t see that, then they weren’t worth your time.”

“You don’t understand,” you sniffled. “Everyone was looking forward to seeing us together. I was looking forward to it.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “You’re right, I might not fully understand how you feel, but I do know that you’re stronger than you think. And I’ll be right here with you, no matter what.”

You sighed, wiping your tears. “Thanks, Spencer. You always know what to say.”

He gave you a small, supportive smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

“I love you, Spence,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I—I love you too,” Spencer replied, his voice a bit shaky. More than you know, he thought silently, his heart pounding in his chest.

As you clung to him, finding comfort in his presence, Spencer closed his eyes, savoring the moment despite the circumstances. He wished he could tell you everything, how his feelings for you had grown far beyond friendship. But for now, he held you close, hoping his embrace could convey the depth of his affection.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Thank you for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Spencer brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your heart. With Spencer by your side, you knew you could face anything, even a heartbreak as painful as this one.

—

Spencer got his license before you, which meant he became your unofficial chauffeur using the car your mom saved for you. Whether it was taking you to the movies, dinner, the mall, salon appointments, or wherever else you needed to go, Spencer was always there, ready to help. He was basically your boyfriend in every way that mattered, and yet, you were still dating a string of different people.

Being an objectively attractive, nice, and smart cheerleader, you had no shortage of admirers. People were practically banging down your door to date you. Whenever one person would dump you, Spencer was always there to comfort you. You’d lean on him, cry on his shoulder, and he’d offer kind words and hugs. And then, just days later, you’d have a new partner, and the cycle would begin again.

Spencer watched it all with a mixture of heartache and resignation. He knew you were dealing with your own issues, much like he was. Both of you shared similar experiences with distant or absent fathers, but while Spencer’s response had been to seek stability and comfort in his studies, yours had been to never allow yourself to be single.

One evening, after yet another breakup, Spencer drove you home from the mall. The car was filled with the sound of your quiet sniffles and the hum of the engine. He glanced over at you, his heart aching for you once again.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You shrugged, wiping away a tear. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t understand why it keeps happening.”

Spencer wanted to tell you that you deserved better, that these fleeting relationships weren’t enough for someone as amazing as you. But he held back, afraid of crossing a line. “You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “I know, Spence. You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As he pulled up to your house, you reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

Spencer squeezed back, wishing he could do more. “Anytime. You know where to find me.”

You leaned over and gave him a quick hug before getting out of the car. As you walked up to your front door, Spencer sat there for a moment, watching you. He sighed, knowing that no matter how many people you dated, he’d always be there, waiting in the wings, ready to catch you when you fell.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope that one day, you’d see him as more than just a friend. One day, maybe, you’d realize that the person who had always been there for you, who had always loved you, was right in front of you all along. He turned on You Belong With Me and drove back to the dorms. (let's pretend this song had already come out)

—

Towards the end of the year, you excitedly announced to Spencer that you were in "a serious relationship this time, Spence." He wanted to believe you, but given your track record of fleeting romances, he couldn't help but harbor some doubts. However, as the relationship lasted a whole month, he began to think maybe this time was different.

Since you turned 16, you no longer needed Spencer to drive you around, but now your new partner, Avery, had taken over that role. Spencer couldn't help but feel replaced. You were always too busy to hang out, spending all your free time with Avery. It left Spencer feeling a pang of loneliness and jealousy he couldn't quite shake.

In June, Jan threw Spencer a graduation party to celebrate him finishing his undergraduate degree. It was a big milestone, and Spencer was looking forward to celebrating with the people he cared about. You showed up with Avery, who you had now been with for two months, and it felt like a punch to the gut for Spencer when you spent the entire party with them.

When you finally introduced Avery to Spencer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. Avery was polite, but Spencer's responses were curt and distant.

"Avery, this is Spencer. My best friend," you said, smiling brightly.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer. Y/N's told me a lot about you," Avery said, extending a hand.

Spencer didn’t take their hand, just ignored it until Avery awkwardly put it back down. "Nice to meet you too," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

The tension was palpable, and you quickly picked up on it. After Avery walked away to get a drink, you turned to Spencer with a frown. "What's your problem, Spencer?"

Spencer, not Spence. "I don't have a problem," Spencer replied, avoiding your gaze.

"Clearly, you do," you said, crossing your arms. "You've been ignoring me all night, and you were so rude to Avery."

Spencer sighed, trying to keep his emotions in check. "It's just... I feel like you've forgotten about me. You're always with Avery now. We never hang out anymore."

You softened slightly, realizing the impact your new relationship had on Spencer. "Spence, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. Avery's important to me, but so are you."

"It doesn't feel like it," he muttered, looking away.

"That's not fair," you snapped, frustration bubbling up. "You know how much you mean to me, Spencer."

"Do I? Because it sure feels like I've been replaced," he shot back, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You stared at him, hurt and anger mixing in your eyes. "That's not true. I'm sorry if it seems that way, but I care about you both. Can't you just be happy for me?"

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions inside him. "I want to be happy for you, Y/N. I really do. But it's hard when I feel like I'm losing my best friend."

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. "You're not losing me, Spence. I promise. I'll make more time for us. Just... try to get to know Avery. They make me happy."

Spencer nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I'll try."

You gave him a small, hopeful smile. "Thank you."

The party continued, but the argument lingered in the back of both your minds. It was a reminder that even the closest friendships could be tested by change. But you were determined to find a balance, to prove to Spencer that no matter what, he would always be an important part of your life.

—

It was Spencer's last night before he would move away to a different state, preparing to settle in during the summer before starting his master's program. You had promised to hang out, making plans for one final evening together. However, as Spencer rode up to your house on his bike and saw Avery's car parked in the driveway, it was clear that you had forgotten.

Feeling an overwhelming surge of emotions, with rage at the forefront of his teenage hormones, Spencer sped off, pedaling furiously down the streets. He couldn't believe you had chosen Avery over him on the one night that mattered most.

Back at his packed up door, Spencer's mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and heartbreak. He sat down at his computer, the anger and hurt boiling over into his fingertips as he began to type. Words flowed out, raw and unfiltered, forming an emotional email that laid bare everything he had been holding inside.

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

I can't believe you forgot about tonight. Our last night together before I leave, and you chose to be with Avery instead. I don't even know where to start. This hurts more than I can put into words, but I'm going to try.

I’ve been your best friend for years. I've been there through every breakup, every tear, every moment you needed someone. I thought tonight would be different. I thought you would be there for me, just this once, when it really mattered.

Seeing Avery's car in your driveway tonight felt like a slap in the face. It's like I've been replaced, and maybe I have. I always tried to be supportive of your relationships, even when it hurt to watch you with someone else. But this time, it's different. This time, it's unbearable.

I've been hiding my feelings for you for so long, afraid that telling you would ruin everything. But now, I feel like I've got nothing left to lose. I love you, Y/N. More than just a friend, more than anything. It's been torture watching you date all these people, knowing that none of them could ever love you like I do.

I don't know what I'm expecting by sending this. Maybe nothing. Maybe just to let you know how much you've hurt me. Maybe to let you know that I’m leaving with a broken heart. I don't know if we'll ever be the same after this, and maybe that's for the best. But you deserve to know the truth, even if it changes nothing.

Goodbye, Y/N. I hope Avery is worth it.

Spencer

He hit send before he could think twice, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Spencer wondered if he had just ruined everything or if, somehow, things might finally change for the better. Either way, there was no turning back now.

—

You didn't see Spencer's email until the next morning. As your eyes scanned the words, your heart dropped to your stomach. He loved you? Avery had been at your house the previous night to break up with you, not to spend time together. Panic set in as you called Spencer over and over, but he never answered. You hadn't even realized what day it was.

Knowing Spencer's plane didn't leave until the evening, you threw on some shoes over your pajamas and ran out of the house, your hair still messy from sleep. You drove as fast as you could to Spencer's dorm. When you got there, you used the trick Spencer had taught you to sneak past the security-locked doors and ran up the stairs to his floor.

You banged repeatedly on his door, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, the door opened, and there stood Spencer, looking surprised and confused.

“What? Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

“I’m so sorry I forgot about last night,” you said breathlessly.

“You saw my email?” Spencer's face hardened, a mix of vulnerability and anger in his eyes.

“Yeah. I’m so, so sorry, Spencer. I’m the worst friend in the world. Avery was only over to dump me anyway,” you explained, tears starting to form in your eyes.

Spencer stared at you, his emotions warring on his face. “So you only remembered me because Avery dumped you?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“No! It’s not like that, Spencer. I was planning to spend the night with you, but I got caught up in everything and lost track of time. You’re so important to me,” you said, stepping closer.

He looked away, his jaw clenched. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was an afterthought, Y/N. You’ve been so wrapped up in your relationships that you’ve forgotten about the one constant in your life.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently. “You’re right. I have been a terrible friend. But I don’t want to lose you, Spencer. You mean the world to me. Can we talk? Please?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “Okay. Let’s talk,” he said, stepping aside to let you into his dorm room.

As you entered, you felt a surge of relief and fear. This conversation could change everything, and you hoped with all your heart that it would be for the better.

You stepped into Spencer's dorm room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The room was filled with packed boxes and the sense of imminent departure. You both sat on the edge of his bed, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Spencer, I’m really sorry,” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I never realized how much I was hurting you.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes full of pain. “Y/N, I’ve always been there for you. Every time you got hurt, every time you needed someone. And I was happy to do it because I love you. But seeing you with all those people, knowing I was just your fallback, it hurt. A lot.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I know. And I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like that. I care about you so much, Spencer. You’re my best friend.”

“Best friend,” Spencer repeated, his voice hollow. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you, isn’t it?”

You shook your head. “No, Spencer, you’re more than that. You mean everything to me.”

Spencer’s expression softened slightly, and he moved closer. “Do you really mean that?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your words. “Yes, I do.”

Without warning, Spencer leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and hesitant against yours. For a moment, you froze, taken aback by the sudden intimacy. Then you pulled back, your heart racing.

“Spencer, I—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You don’t see me like that, do you?” he asked, his voice cracking. “You don’t love me the way I love you.”

“Spencer… that was my first kiss,” you said softly.

“What?” Spencer's eyes widened in surprise.

“Mhm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But you’ve had so many partners!” he exclaimed, trying to make sense of it.

“I never kissed them,” you admitted, your smile growing.

“Why?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

“They were never you,” you replied, your eyes locking with his, filled with sincerity and emotion.

Spencer stared at you, his mind racing to comprehend what you had just revealed. "But why me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, filled with hope and disbelief.

"Because, Spencer," you began, taking a step closer to him. "No one else ever made me feel the way you do. You were always there for me, always caring, always understanding. I guess I was selfish… and scared to ruin what we had, so I kept my distance in that way. But now I realize how much I’ve hurt you, and missed out on by not telling you sooner."

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he processed your words. "I thought I was just your fallback, the one you turned to when things went wrong with others."

"You were never just a fallback," you insisted, your voice firm. "You’ve always been so much more than that. I was just too afraid to admit it, even to myself."

“So what do we do now?” Spencer asked, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Well, you’re leaving…” you began, your voice tinged with sadness.

“I know,” he said, looking down.

“But… we have email, and phones, and we can write letters!” you said, your tone growing more hopeful.

“You’d be willing to do long distance, for me?” Spencer asked, his eyes big and full of love.

“I’d do anything for you, Spencer,” you replied sincerely, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m so glad Avery dumped you,” Spencer said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“That’s so rude,” you laughed, feeling the weight of past hurt lifting, “but I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

—

Two years later, you graduated high school and Spencer was well into his PhD programs. You had stayed true to your commitment to each other, maintaining a long-distance relationship through countless emails, phone calls, and handwritten letters that kept your bond strong. The distance had only made your connection deeper, and your love grew with each passing day.

When you got a job in the city where Spencer was studying, you moved in together, transforming your shared space into a home filled with warmth, laughter, and countless books. Still in love, still best friends, you navigated the challenges of life together.

Your late-night study sessions turned into heartfelt conversations, your shared meals became cherished moments, and your weekends were filled with adventures and quiet times alike. As you sat together on the couch, wrapped up in each other, you both knew that this was just the beginning of your long life together.

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

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covenofagatha · 23 days ago

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Nicky's mom has got it going on (Part 1)

You are best friends with Nicholas Scratch, and one day he invites you over to his house when his mom is there, and shit, you didn't realize his mom was so hot. Non-magical AU

Word count: 2100+

Warnings: 18+, allusions to smut, actual smut will be in later parts, mommy issues (duh)

“Got any plans tonight?” your best friend Nicky asks you, making easy conversation. You had been organizing books on the A-F fiction shelf at the Barnes & Noble at the mall, where you and Nicholas Scratch worked in your free time. You had met him through Westview University, where you both attended school. But when you both started working at the bookstore in the beginning of the year to make a little extra money, you two became fast friends.

“Not really. My parents are working late so I’m on my own. Probably just going to reheat leftovers and watch tv.” The campus was only twenty minutes away from your parents’ house, and ten away from his, so you both lived at home.

“You finished all the chem homework?” he asks, a teasing grin on his face. You’re both in the same Introduction to Chemistry class, with Ms. Dottie Jones. She was a stickler and gave out a packet of homework almost every day. It was everyone’s least favorite class.

You groan. Somehow you had forgotten, and it was due tomorrow. Looked like you had plans after all for the evening. “Fuck,” is all you say, Nicky laughing.

“I haven’t started it either. Want to come over and do it? I’m sure you could stay for dinner. My mom’s cooking and she can help with the homework.”

You smile, gracious for the offer. You had been over to his house a few times, but you hadn’t met his mom yet. You could use the company, and the help for sure. Chemistry was your worst subject, but Nicky was pretty good at it. Apparently his mom, Agatha Harkness, had a background in it, so she was always helping Nicky.

“That would be lovely, thank you. Do you want to go straight there after we get off?” You quickly check your watch. There’s still 45 minutes left in your shift.

“Yeah, that works. Let me text my mom and tell her that you’re coming over.”

“Will she mind?” The last thing you wanted to do was intrude. Nicky and his mom were incredibly close, as it was just the two of them, and according to Nicky, Agatha treasured the time she got to spend with him around her busy schedule. You hadn’t heard much about Nicky’s father and Agatha’s ex-husband, only that they had gotten divorced when Nicky was fourteen and was out of the picture.

“Not at all. She’s been dying to meet you.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking around to make sure no customers or your manager are nearby, and quickly types out a quick message. You make a mental note to text your parents when you finished your shift to let them know you were getting dinner with friends. They wouldn’t mind, plus you were sure you’d still be home before them.

“Thank you,” you say again, and get back to organizing the books.

***

You pull into the driveway, following Nicky’s car. Their house never fails to take your breath away. It’s a beautiful two story Victorian style house, with a steep roof, wrap-around porch, and large windows with paned glass. It’s almost Halloween, and clearly Nicky and his mom go all out. Inflatable ghosts, fake gravestones, pumpkins, and other decorations fill their giant yard and you can’t help but smile. Halloween is one of your favorite holidays, and this year Nicky’s mom was hosting a party for the neighborhood and you had been invited. Nicky leads you to the front door, unlocks it, and motions for you to go in first. The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon hits your nose and you inhale slowly. You can hear noises coming from the kitchen and you trail behind your friend as he leads you to the source.

In the kitchen, a woman is facing away from you, stirring something in a large pot on the stove. Her long, curly black hair tumbles down to her lower back and she is wearing a flannel with navy pants. On the island, you can see some candles flickering. So that’s where the smell was coming from.

“Mom, this is–” Nicky starts, but his mom whips around and exclaims, announcing your name before he even gets a chance.

Holy shit, is your first thought. Nicky’s mom is hot. Her long hair frames her pale face and her bright blue eyes trace you up and down. The top two buttons of her flannel are undone, so you can see her collarbones and a peek of the smooth skin of her chest.

“Oh, hi,” you stammer. “So nice to finally meet you.”

A wide smile overtakes her face and she sticks out a hand. It takes you a beat, but then you remember what you’re supposed to do. You take her hand and shake it, trying to ignore how soft her palm is.

“Nicky’s told me so much about you,” she gushes. “He clearly forgot to mention what a sight for sore eyes you are.” She playfully winks and you figure all the blood in your body has to have rushed to your cheeks, based on how hot they feel.

“Mom,” Nicky whines, shooting you an apologetic look. You let out an awkward chuckle, eyes darting back and forth between mom and son.

His mom waves a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m Agatha. Nicky said you guys are going to work on some homework. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help, and I’ll give you guys a shout when dinner is ready! Hope you like lamb stew.” Right on cue, your stomach rumbles and Agatha shoots you a smile. “Nicky, why don’t you get your friend a snack while I’m cooking?”

Nicky nods and rummages through the pantry. He grabs a box of cookies and you guys walk up to his room. You sit down at his desk and he flops onto his bed.

“Your mom is nice,” you say casually, trying not to give away how flustered you are because of her.

“She’s pretty cool. Alright, let’s get started. Last time I checked, the packet was eight pages and at least half are balancing equations.”

Ugh. That thought is enough to turn your attention from Agatha to the reality of the situation. You have a lot of homework to get done.

You have just gotten to the third page when Agatha pokes her head in. “How’s homework going?” she asks, and you and Nicky simultaneously groan. She walks over to you, stealing your paper and gently perching on the desk, which you’re sitting at. You struggle to remember how to breathe when her thigh brushes against your knee. “This one is wrong,” she says, pointing at number 13. “You have an extra oxygen on the left side.”

Nicky drops his head into the bed with a muffled swear. Agatha meets your eyes and smiles softly. Fuck, her mouth is pretty.

“Why don’t you take a break? Come downstairs and eat dinner and then we’ll work through this together,” she offers. She holds your homework back out to you and you take it, wondering if she slid her fingers across yours on purpose.

At the table, Agatha sits across from you and Nicky is to your right. She asks you all about college, your major, and what you want to do after.

“Have you guys decided what you’re wearing to the party next week?,” she then asks.

“I’m going to be a witch,” you answer, and you swear her eyes light up. “I ordered my costume last week so it should be here soon. Nicky still hasn’t figured out what he’s going as yet.”

Nicky scoffs in protest. “Hey! I’m narrowing it down between a pirate or a superhero. Also, mom loves witches so watch out.”

“Halloween is next week, dude, you better figure it out soon,” you tease and Agatha laughs.

“You tell him,” she says and the two of you share a grin.

“Whatever. I’m going to the bathroom,” Nicky says, standing up and pushing in his chair.

There is a moment of silence as you and Agatha eat some stew. Then she says, “So, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?”

You almost drop your spoon back in the bowl. Is she–no. She is probably trying to get a feel of yours and Nicky’s relationship. “Um, no. I’m actually gay,” you say, finding the stew suddenly incredibly interesting. After Agatha is silent for a few seconds, you look up at her to find a smirk stretched across her face, eyes looking darker than they were.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Her voice is low and you swallow hard, begging the fire in your stomach to die down. This is Nicky’s mom. Nicky’s incredibly attractive mom whose hands, at the moment, you desperately wanted to feel tracing your body. Sliding over your lips, maybe even around your throat. Fuck.

“No,” you say, barely above a whisper. “There’s really no girls in school that I’m interested in.”

Agatha opens her mouth, ready to say something, and you preemptively lean closer, but at that moment, Nicky walks back in and sits down next to you, completely oblivious to your flushed face and his mom’s look of…disappointment?

No. You are clearly just reading into things. Nicky’s mom, who is much older than you are, does not want you.

She’s just being nice, and you are being insane.

You really need to get your mommy issues under control.

Agatha clears her throat. “So, how’s working at the bookstore going?”

“It’s pretty good. Nicky definitely makes the shifts go by faster,” you say, turning to look at him appreciatively. “Except for tomorrow, because someone has to do a group project for their sociology class and can’t work.” The glare you gave Nicky is playful and he snickers.

“So sorry. I’d honestly rather be at work. My group sucks. I honestly wonder how one of the people made it into college,” he says. You agree. You’ve done a fair share of group projects already for some of your classes, and it is often a struggle.

You look back at Agatha, but she doesn’t say anything. The rest of dinner passes quickly, and soon it’s time to get back to homework.

You and Nicky decide to move downstairs so Agatha can help. She’s talking quickly, gesturing down at your paper, but you’re too busy staring at her lips to actually understand what she’s saying. Which is totally fine, until she asks you a question.

“Sorry?” is all you can say, internally cursing for looking like an idiot. She doesn’t look disappointed. Instead, it almost looks like she knows why you’re so distracted. She repeats it slowly, something about if there’s six oxygens on the left side, how many carbon dioxides do we need on the right side. “Three?” you say, sort of guessing.

“Good girl,” she says approvingly, in that raspy voice of hers, and you honest-to-god clench around nothing. You can literally feel yourself getting wetter by the second. And then she moves onto the next question like she didn’t just say that.

It’s almost ten thirty at night by the time you finish your homework and you stand up with a yawn.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Agatha asks. “You can stay in the guest room, I’m sure I can find some clothes for you to wear.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” you say, and she immediately shakes her head.

“You won’t be at all. Come on,” she insists, and you glance at Nicky before she pulls you after her up the stairs. She leads you into her bedroom and lets go of you to walk into her closet and you take the opportunity to look around her room.

Her bed is neatly made, with a cream duvet and a dark, wooden headboard. Her nightstand is the same colored wood and there’s a framed picture of her and Nicky from probably ten years ago. A fireplace is tucked into the corner and dark purple curtains cover the windows.

“Here you go. These should fit. There should be extra toothbrushes and toothpaste in the guest bathroom. If you need anything else, just let me know,” Agatha says, handing you a pile of clothes. “Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You’re too flustered to say anything back so you give her a smile and make your way to the guest room. It’s right by Nicky’s room, so you stop in to say good night and then you text your parents that you’re spending the night at a friend’s house.

The pajamas Agatha gave you – if you can even call them that – slide right onto your body. It’s a silky purple nightie with a black robe and it hugs your curves in all the right places. You look hot and for a second, you think about going to see Agatha again. Just to thank her, you tell yourself unconvincingly.

But you make yourself brush your teeth and get into bed, feeling the wetness still between your thighs.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x you #agatha all along

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nitewingbabi · 1 year ago

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↳ a pretty mouth ⚤ ghostface x female!reader 【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading, ✉ taking requests first part ▻ please respond…i showed you my cock

It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too.

He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round.

You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.

➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy

His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy.

Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before.

Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well.

When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until.

🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap

The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin.

“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove.

“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were.

“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other.

A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade.

“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway.

“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup.

“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax.

It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead.

It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong?

Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface.

Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night.

“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke.

“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you.

You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg.

He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace.

$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you.

He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement.

“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.

Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure.

“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more.

“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it.

“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic.

“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out.

You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth.

He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat.

Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you.

“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame.

“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high.

“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress.

“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more.

“This is gonna be fun.”

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wizardwomenwisdom · 2 years ago

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steve and eddie pre-season 4 doing divorced parent swaps of dustin after hellfire meetings.

at first, when steve hears dustin’s becoming friends with eddie, he doesn’t really care. it’s not his business, honestly, and if his friendship with robin’s taught him anything it’s that cliques in high school mean so little.

it’s only when dustin’s mom pulls him aside one day, when he drops dustin off, that he begins to worry. because dustin’s the last on the list of hellfire members to get dropped off in eddie’s van, and there aren’t seats back there, and honestly eddie’s driving is bad on a good day.

so at first, steve offers to start driving dustin home from the high school. and the way dustin acts, well, steve feels like he just offered to take out an armed russian guard again. after a bit of arguing, he gets to the bottom of it: dustin likes hanging out with everyone on the ride. and since the way to his place passes the closest micky-d’s, eddie and garath always take him to get dinner.

so they make a deal: steve’ll meet them at mcdonald’s, pick dustin up, and take him home so his mom stops stressing. it’ll be a quick weekly hand off.

only every friday, when he pulls into the lot, eddie’s standing outside waiting with a few sarcastic quips. steve and he almost always argue about dustin while dustin finishes eating (“if it were a sports car you wouldn’t give a shit about seatbelts” “that’s why i don’t drive a fucking sports car to pick him up, dick.”) (“you’re late.” “i had a date.” “and he has a bed time.”) (“i get that your campaign is important, but he has a c in latin right now.” “i can’t make him do homework if he doesn’t want to.” “you most certainly can.”)

the first time robin comes with him, she spends the whole ride to the hendersons giggling. when dustin’s finally out of the car, steve turns in the driver’s seat and crosses his arms.

“out with it, buckley. what’s so funny?”

she blinks twice, and then starts laughing again. “what’s the custody agreement look like between the two of you?” she manages.

“what?”

“do you not realize it?”

“realize what?”

“you and eddie ‘the freak’ munson have spent the last three months doing a quintessential divorced parent drop.”

“wait, wait-“

“the arguing? the mcdonald’s parking lot? the weird pseudo-flirting?”

“i do not flirt with eddie.”

“does that make me dustin’s shitty step-mom?”

“robin!”

“oh my god.” she’s laughing so hard at this point that she can’t breathe.

steve shifts back into the driver’s seat. he doesn’t say anything until they’re back on the road, and robin calms down, and his face is sufficiently red. finally, he manages a “fuck you, buckley.” which starts robin into another laughing fit.

steve’s extra aware of how eddie calls him sweetheart next time they meet up.

edit: wrote a fic of this lowkey.

#in case you’re wondering #dustin gets a kid meal #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #they’re so divorced parent core sometimes #lmao coping with listening a violent screaming match earlier today #and getting flashbacks

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blegh-110 · 6 months ago

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i. "we were both young when i first saw you" | Sam Monroe

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam x fem!reader

Summary: You never liked your older brother's friends, they were always mean to you; kicking your seat on the bus, pulling your hair, and tricking you. You made it your mission to stay away from them, expect for one who is the first to treat you nicely.

Warnings: None! Just a cute little teenage romance <3

Word count: 851

Next part

Older brother's best friend!Sam who you’ve known since you were 12 and he was 14. You remember your brother first coming home from his first day of high school talking about a really cool guy in his english and history class, someone named Sam Monroe. Of course you didn’t really care for your older brother's friends, in fact, you had a bit of a personal vendetta against all of them for the pranks and tricks they pulled on you when you were younger. Even now you try to avoid them and their attempts to give you a wet willy and a flick on the forehead. You were also at the age where boys were simply scary, especially older ones who were friends with your older brother.

So when the time came that your brother invited Sam over to hang out after school, you hid in your room for as long as possible and tried to finish your school work. But it was difficult to focus when you could just feel the presence of another boy in your home. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you couldn’t go out into the kitchen for a snack in fear that you would run into one of your brother’s friends. They were just so demeaning, they never missed out on the chance to remind you that you’re younger and dumber than them.

You checked the time, 11:37. Surely everyone in the house is asleep, you thought. Quietly, you stepped out of your room into the kitchen, wanting your trip for your sweet tart ropes and water to be fast. But frustration and anger very quickly took over when you couldn’t find the candy you bought with your own money.

“What’re you looking for?” A voice you didn’t recognize said behind you. In the short second before you turned around, you felt your blood run cold and mind go blank. And it became worse when you looked at him, he was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen. He was leaning against the doorway with an intense stare, and what caught your eye was the blue streak in his hair. He looked so cool. With all the courage you can muster up, you speak.

“My candy, I bought sweet tart ropes earlier and can’t… find them.” Your words are quiet, you don’t want to wake anyone up but the boy in front of you is the main reason. At your reply he stands to his full height with a frown.

“Your brother said I could have ‘em, shit, I’m sorry.” And what was strange was that he really looked like it.

“It’s okay,” It really wasn’t, you were still mad. But you just wanted the whole interaction to be over, he was too cute in your eyes to continue any sort of conversation. You wouldn’t be able to speak properly if this went on. So you went back to your room right after, setting aside your homework for tomorrow because you couldn’t get him out of your mind. Although it was only a minute with him, he had shown more kindness than any of your brother's friends, or any boy in fact. And you held on to that very small moment.

You rarely saw him for your entire seventh grade school year, of course you would. He wasn’t your friend, only someone you had a little bit of a crush on. But the times you did have together, despite it being small, were special to you.

Like when he listened to you complain about your insufferable science teacher, “That guy’s a fucking asshole.” His vulgarity is a part of him that always makes you laugh.

“Shh, Sam!” You’re smiling as you bring your pointer finger to your lips, telling him to quiet down, “my parents are in the other room.” At that his eyes widened and head turned to where you’re pointing.

“Okay, I’ll stop. But seriously, I was also in his class and he was the worst, he always picked on me”

As much as you cared for Sam, he was a troublemaker, and you asked if he did anything to warrant that treatment.

“Well, yeah but what does that have anything to do with it?” And before you can answer he poked your side, making you yelp, and ran off.

Or when you first saw him with the piercing right below his bottom lip, “you like it?” You only nodded your head before bolting to your room and shoving your face into the pillow.

And when their freshman class was having a dance, he knocked on your door that night asking if you had any black eye shadow to put on him. The application was messy, since he decided he wanted it literally at the last minute and your brother was yelling for him from the living room to hurry. When you were done and got a good look at his face you blushed. In combination with his piercing, dyed hair, makeup, and suit, you got butterflies and wanted to be the one who he took to the dance.

This one was written for my younger self who wanted an emo boyfriend. I think I might do another part simply for myself. Hopefully this reaches the hayden christensen part of tumblr. Please leave a comment, I love reading them <333 banner is by @dollywons

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #haden christensen x fem!reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen fanfiction #life as a house #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe x you #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe x y/n #hayden christensen x y/n

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therabbitthatpostthings · 9 months ago

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Valentine’s Day

Teen!NanamixTeen!Reader

(Part 2)

“Is this some kind of prank?”

That was the first thing to cross First Year Nanami Kento’s mind. Of course it had to be. What other reason would there be for a folded pink note to be on his desk? He grimaced as he picked up the note and looked it over. It was made of construction paper and smelled faintly of perfume and markers, which he could see bleeding through. All signs pointed to one thing: Gojo wrote a fake note and doused it in perfume to trick him.

What a pain…

The thought that someone, anyone, could have written him a genuine love note?! Ridiculous! This Valentine’s Day was going to end with Yu sharing all the sweets he got and Kento was just fine with that. He crumbled the letter up and put it in his pocket to throw away later. Luckily you didn’t stick around to see that far. You had gotten far too embarrassed. Shoko watched as you anxiously walked in circles. It thought of him rejecting you was heartbreaking but if you didn’t let your feelings be known how could you move on!

“Pacing won’t help you.” Shoko stated.

“I know but- ugh!” You slumped onto the bench into defeat. “I hate feelings.”

Shoko hummed in acknowledgment.

“Dude you are going to town on those cigarettes.” You stated

“Oh these? It’s candy from Gojo, I don’t wanna smell like smoke when me and Utahime go karoking later. You wanna come if Nanami rejects you?”

“What? You got a crush on the emo kid?” Gojo laughed. You quickly jumped back in shock. Him and Geto had the annoying hair of appearing anywhere you were. Gojo was of course doing it on purpose but you wished Geto would warn you.

“Don’t tease them Satoru.” Geto said in a light tone. Something about it still felt mocking.

“Spies! The both of you!” You yelled.

“Nah, you just talk too loud.” Gojo leaned over the benches back. His body slumped against your back as he shook your shoulders. “Come on~ Tell me about your crush~”

“Could you fuck off? You are so annoying.” You sneered.

“It’s cute (Y/N)! I didn’t think you would like the dark and brooding type.” Gojo cooed.

“He’s not dark and brooding!” You yelled, face flushed with embarrassment.

Gojo wasn’t completely wrong, Nanami was a little dark and brooding. He doesn’t really talk to people and always looks annoyed or angry. You would have continued your school days without ever noticing him. He noticed you though. When you were harassed by a group of third years, he told them to back off and helped you to class. He picked up the books you dropped by accident and gave you the treats he didn’t eat. Nanami was very kind and respectful to you despite his dislike for Gojo.

You pushed the bashful thoughts out of your head. The anxiety crept back in. Surely Nanami had found the note. He had to be coming to find you eventually.

“Oi Nanami!” Gojo called over. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

You saw Nanami’s expression change to annoyance as he walked in long strides towards you. He didn’t look at you aside from a quick glance before fixating back on Gojo.

“Ohh~ What’s that? A love note?” Gojo joked. Nanami held up the crumbled pink paper and tossed it towards Gojo. It bounced off his chest and hit the ground, rolling right in front of you.

“Don’t leave notes at my desk again, senpai.” He stated.

Nanami left the four of you in a deafening silence. It was like the whole world had just stopped and you could only hear his footsteps disappear in the distance. Geto cleared his throat to say something but you couldn’t understand it. You leaned down to pick up the note.

“Shoko. I got some homework to finish, come get me when you're ready to leave.” You said blankly.

“Uh, yeah.” She replied.

You quietly walked back to your room.

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujitsu tech #kento nanami #writing fanfics at 3am #cringe-

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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Like Mother, Like Daughter (Damon Salvatore x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, compulsion, blood, mentions of MURDER, abusive relationship, secret relationship, non canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: You never imagined that you would find solace in the bloodstained hands of a murderer.

“What is that?”

Elena’s concerned tone reached your ears as you worked on your assignment, and you curiously lifted your head. This semester was kicking your ass more than you’d anticipated, so you were hellbent on finishing as many assignments as quickly as possible. You paused your scribbling to follow her line of sight, and your own gaze landed on the dark bruise on your arm.

You blinked at it, silent for a moment before the memory came back to you.

“Oh,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t paying attention the other day and my arm got slammed in the door.”

You waved off her concern, reluctantly looking back down at the paper in front of you.

“I was trying to rush and carry a load of laundry in the door.”

The brunette didn’t respond to that, just humming, and you got the feeling that she was skeptical.

“You should probably put something on that…”

You looked up at her, meeting her eyes with a soft smile.

“Okay, mom, I will,” you chuckled.

You were a year older than Elena—a year older than most of your friends actually—but Elena always acted like she was the one older than you. Calling every day to see how school was going, reminding you to eat something when you got too invested in your work, telling you to bring a jacket whenever you went out with them. You loved her for it, especially since your own mom wasn’t around to do that, but sometimes you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Make fun of me all you want, but it just looks serious is all,” she told you.

“I told you, it’s nothing,” you replied, sending her a reassuring smile. “It’ll be gone by next week, anyway.”

Before she could say anything else on the matter, her doorbell rang. Your smile grew as her face lit up, and you shook your head to yourself. You weren’t going to fault her for being so head over heels for Stefan Salvatore. He was handsome and sweet and the kind of boyfriend that any girl would ask for.

“Do you want anything from The Grill?” she asked you, sliding her arms into her jacket as she stood.

“No, thank you.”

You only spared her a brief glance, eager to finish your work as you heard her answer the door. Her excited greeting was cut short, however, and you lifted her head at her sigh. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but the irritated tone wasn’t hard to miss, and you were unsurprised when a familiar dark-haired man rounded the corner, food dish in hand.

Now, it was your turn for your face to light up, unable to bite back the smile that fell over your lips.

Damon Salvatore struck you as one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen from the first moment he’d breezed into town. He was the opposite of Stefan in almost every way, and you hadn’t blamed a single girl for momentarily losing her sense of self over the man. Looks aside, he was charming and funny and shockingly sweet when he wanted to be.

You wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.

As your train of thought shifted, you forced your smile to drop just in time for Stefan and Elena to round the corner. Damon could be difficult, you’d witnessed that yourself, and Elena, the girl who was like a sister to you, would never approve of you dating the oldest Salvatore. She swore he was the devil incarnate, but you thought that she worried too much.

The small smirk he threw you over their shoulders made your stomach twist.

“…and you just had to bring that by for the Founder’s Party today.”

Elena sounded less than enthused with his presence, halfheartedly telling him where he could set it. You kept your eyes on your homework, unable to ignore the tension in the air. You knew that he and Stefan didn’t get along, but you always felt like that was a sibling thing, something that Elena didn’t need to take on herself.

“He’s just not a good guy,” she’d told you one day when you asked about it, a look in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t be elaborating.

“Look, Damon, we really don’t have all day,” you heard Stefan breathe.

It was clear that they had no intention of leaving while Damon was still here, and you kept your head down.

“You two lovebirds go on ahead,” he told them, tone mirthful. “I need to talk to dear old Aunt Jenna about the Founder’s Party.”

You heard him take a bite of something Jenna had cooked earlier, the leftovers on the stove, and when you glanced up again, it was just in time to see Elena glance at you. She didn’t look the most enthused to just ‘go on ahead’, and her and Stefan exchanged a look.

“Alright… Y/N, you’re almost done, right?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that she just wanted to confirm you’d be leaving soon. Or more importantly, that you wouldn’t be in Damon’s presence for long.

“Yeah,” you reassured her. “Just two more essay questions to go.”

She nodded at that, glancing at Stefan’s brother one last time before reluctantly leaving. Stefan did the same, telling you they’d see you later before they both left. You straightened, heart skipping a beat as you smiled. You opened your mouth to speak when Damon held a finger up, slowly chewing with a tilt of his head, almost like he was listening…waiting.

“God,” he dramatically dragged out after some time. “I thought they’d never leave.”

You couldn’t hold in your chuckle, and you watched him as he slowly made his way to the table.

“You like riling them up,” you accused.

“Me?” he wondered, touching his chest as he neared you. “…and why would I ever do a thing like that?”

Damon bent over you, slowly and torturously, before his nose touched yours. Your grin widened just as his lip brushed yours, a kiss soon to follow. His fingers brushed your own as he rested his hand on the table, and your lashes fluttered when he deepened the kiss. You’d only been seeing Damon for a few months, but oddly enough, it felt like forever.

It scared you sometimes how strong your feelings were for the oldest Salvatore brother.

They seemingly came out of nowhere.

“Sill choosing collegiate duties over me?” he murmured into your mouth, and you pulled away.

“I have to get this done,” you sadly told him. “I only have the weekend to do it, and a good four hours of that is spent driving home and then back to school.”

You returned your eyes to the paper in front of you just as you felt Damon’s finger trail across your neck.

“I thought you needed to speak with Jenna about the party,” you murmured, a smile on your lips.

“I lied,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “You’re way too smart for college if you ask me. Highly overrated.”

You blinked up at him with a frown as he made himself comfortable on the edge of the table.

“You went to college?”

There was some disbelief in your voice, and for good reason, it seemed.

“I’ve been on a college campus, yes,” he answered, arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn’t hold in a laugh at that.

“I’m serious. You have to drive back and forth every weekend just to see me, and I don’t like it.”

There was little humor in Damon’s voice, now, and you gave him a small frown.

“That’s not always true,” you argued. “Sometimes you come to see me.”

He didn’t join in when you chuckled at your bad attempt at humor, and your brows knitted together at the feel of his hand on the place where your neck and shoulder met. He gently kneaded into the skin there, and you slowly looked up at him again. Damon’s expression was serious, pink lips pressed together as he looked between your eyes.

“I miss you when you’re away…”

Guilt ate at you.

“I know,” you whispered. “I miss you too.”

Damon’s tongue darted between his lips, and you watched as he tilted his head to the side, regarding you with a look you couldn’t place. The air between you felt odd…off, and Damon heaved a sigh before leaning in to press his lips to your forehead.

“You’re kidding, right?”

You softly exhaled, pointedly keeping your eyes on your suitcase as you unpacked. You made the mistake of glancing up, meeting Bonnie’s worried gaze as she sat on your bed before her eyes flickered up to Elena over your shoulder.

“I really don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

“You come back to Mystic Falls in the middle of the week unannounced, and when we ask what’s up, you say you’re dropping out of college…and we’re not supposed to question that?”

Elena sounded beside herself, and you ignored them both as you moved to hang some clothes up.

“Y/N!”

“What do you want me to say?” you wondered, facing them both with a frown, throwing your hands up. “It just didn’t feel right, okay? The campus, my major, all of it. I just didn’t feel right being there.”

You noted how robotic your words came out, but it was the truth.

“Plus, the driving back and forth was getting to be too much. I missed being home all the time.”

“Maybe you’re just going through a rough patch,” Bonnie told you. “It happens, but that’s no reason to drop out.”

“I already did,” you argued, grabbing more stuff out of your suitcase. “It’s done.”

Fed up, the straight-haired girl made her way over to you. She roughly grabbed your hands, halting your movements as she forced you to face her. Elena’s eyes were wide and confused as she looked at you, as if trying to see inside of your mind.

As if she didn’t believe you.

“You hear how crazy this sounds, don’t you? This isn’t like you!”

You pulled your hands out of her grip, huffing and continuing to unpack. You could feel both of their eyes on you, and it was hard to ignore, you had to admit.

“What does your dad think about this?”

You hesitated, pausing in your efforts, and you bit your lip.

“I haven’t told him,” you slowly admitted.

“Since when do you hide anything from him?” Bonnie whispered. “You tell your dad everything.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him this,” you heard yourself snapping.

Silence filled the room again as you went back and forth between your suitcase and the closet, taking clothes out and hanging them up. You could tell that Bonnie and Elena were beside themselves, unsure of how else to proceed with this sudden development. You were only glad that Caroline wasn’t here, positive that you would never hear the end of it.

You were halfway to your closet when Elena stopped you again, her hand on your wrist.

You turned to look at her, but her gaze wasn’t on you. At least, not on your face. Her brown eyes were focused on your wrist, and you looked down, frowning in confusion as to what she was looking at. Her lips parted, a deep frown on her face as she blinked at your wrist. When she lifted her gaze again, there was something in her eyes that alarmed you. She looked almost…worried.

“Where is your bracelet?”

That was the last thing you’d expected, and the question threw you.

“What?”

“Your bracelet. The bracelet I gave you a year ago. The one you promised you’d never take off, where is it?”

You wracked your brain, struggling to remember the last time you saw it. You’d worn it so much that the mere sight of it was inconsequential to you, something you just happened to run your eyes over every day. You hadn’t even realized that it was gone, and you realized that it’d actually been months since you at least remembered looking at it, let alone wearing it.

“I must have…lost it somewhere,” you admitted. “It’s either here or back in my dorm, I don’t know. I have to go back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff, so I’ll look for it then.”

Elena looked like she wanted to say more, her features pinched in concern, and you went back to unpacking before she could say anything more. You hoped that you’d gotten your point across that the school discussion was over, relieved when they didn’t press the issue further. You’d hear enough lecturing from your dad, you didn’t need it from your friends either.

Damon was the only one happy for you.

“If it didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel right,” he agreed hours later.

Your dad had long gone to bed in anger and confusion, reacting just as you expected he would. You hadn’t hesitated to invite Damon inside when he showed up at your house, leading him upstairs. His hands massaging into your shoulders as you told him you weren’t going back.

“You were right. The going back and forth was exhausting, and seeing you for a few hours every week just wasn’t cutting it.”

Damon’s hand was rubbing patterns into your lower back as he lounged across your bed. You sat on the edge, staring at the window.

“It really wasn’t,” the dark-haired man drawled. “…but now…”

He dragged the word out, pulling you back until you were lying down next to him.

“I can have you all to myself.”

Your back met the bed, and Damon raised himself on an elbow to gaze down at you. You smiled at the thought, Damon slowly returning it with a small curve of his own lips. He ran his blue eyes over you, drinking you in as one hand came up to drag a finger across your mouth. He pulled down on your bottom lip, and you knew what he wanted, parting them for him, and you watched the way his eyes dilated at the sight of the tip of his finger slipping inside.

The look on his face had heat twisting deep within your gut, and Damon deeply inhaled before leaning in. His tongue replaced his finger when his mouth met yours, lips moving against yours in a way that made your head spin and toes curl. Damon’s hands found a home on your waist, fingers pressing into you as he dragged them down your frame.

“You smell so good, you know that?” he murmured against your lips.

He rested perfectly between your legs, and you parted them further to accommodate him. He made a humming sound, like he liked that, and your fingers threaded through his dark strands. Your lips parted when his mouth found a place on your neck, leaving kisses over your skin. You were an adult, now, but having sex in your childhood home with your dad right down the hall was pretty bold…and disrespectful.

“Damon,” you breathlessly murmured.

He gently shushed you, leaning back until his nose brushed yours. Your lashes fluttered, and you swallowed as one of his hands rested on your cheek. His blue gaze held yours, and after some time, it was like that was all you could see. Blue filled your vision…until it didn’t, replaced by black, and your whole body sagged underneath his, more relaxed than you’d ever been. Every single thought in your head was put on halt, taking the backburner with one thought above all else.

You wanted to feel every single part of Damon against you.

The thought guided your movements, a drive within you now to get his shirt off. When he kissed you again, you were the one to deepen it, pressing your fingers against his smooth skin. When your shorts came off, Damon rolled you both until you were on top of him. You were breathless when he pulled your shirt off, and he was quick to pull you back down into a kiss once it was.

A low moan escaped your lips when he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck, forcing your head. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers brushing along his skin as his other hand rested on your hip, rolling them against his. Your heart was racing, blood pumping, and you flinched at the sharp pain you felt in your neck.

Liquid fire coursed through your veins soon after, and you could feel yourself trembling on top of him. His fingers pressed into the back of your neck, and your other hand rested on the one on your hip. It was like a current traveling up your body, steadily moving to one place, and when Damon rolled you both back over, you couldn’t get him inside of you fast enough.

You didn’t even mourn the loss of your underwear.

Your back arched when Damon’s hips connected with yours, his cock fitted snuggly inside of you. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed as he lifted your lower half, holding you tight enough to bruise as he pulled out before thrusting back into you. Your hands reached up towards your headboard, nails scraping along the wood while Damon fucked you.

Your neck was on fire, but you paid it no mind, too preoccupied with the fire between your legs instead. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the way Damon fucked you, moving your body whichever way he pleased, whichever way suited him and his needs. He treated you like a ragdoll, and you loved it, welcoming the pain and the pleasure.

One of his hands curled around your neck, and you gasped, grasping onto his arm as he leaned his head down. A pinch on your chest, and then you were floating again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer if that were possible. Damon groaned into your skin, and one of your hands lowered to his hair, twisting your fingers in his locks and holding him to you.

“Damon,” you sighed.

You felt so stretched when he was inside of you, so full, and the feel was addicting. Your hips were lowered back down to the bed, Damon’s teeth still in you, and his hands danced up your frame and to your arms. He grabbed onto them, stretching them out along your bed, fingers dancing over your skin before meeting your own hands, intertwining them with yours.

You were so glad that you didn’t have class in the morning.

The feel of the heated mug warmed your hands, fighting off the biting cold that threatened to overtake you. Caroline’s chatter was a comforting buzz in your ear, but it was background noise at most. Your gaze was focused on nothing, staring ahead with your mind a million miles away. The scarf around your neck was soft, and you absentmindedly reached up to touch it.

“Are you listening?”

It took you a moment to realize that she was talking to you, and you blinked. You looked around, noting that three familiar pairs of eyes were all on you. Guiltily, you frowned, realizing that you had in fact not been paying attention. Caroline looked slightly irritated while Bonnie was staring at you in concern. Elena’s countenance was no different.

“What?” you eventually said.

“Sleepover…at Elena’s…Bonnie’s birthday…?”

You blinked in shock, in disbelief that the date was fast approaching, and you’d forgotten.

“Right, I’m sorry, yeah. I’ll bring the cupcakes,” you told them.

“Are you okay?” Caroline suddenly asked, concern bleeding into her own eyes, now. “You just seem so off lately.”

You looked down at that, no need to look up and confirm that Bonnie and Elena were no doubt in agreement. Ever since you’d dropped out of college, they’d been crowding around you more than usual. Trying to drop by every day—something you almost always had to refuse due to Damon’s presence right upstairs—inviting you along with every outing and even subtly bringing school up in the conversation.

“Yeah,” you eventually told her. “Just tired.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You were tired, you had been pretty often lately, lasting for a day or two at a time before you felt normal again. Caroline seemed to accept that, nodding with a furrow between her brows just as Elena reached into her purse.

“Hey, since you never found your bracelet, I decided to get you a new one…”

You frowned at both her words and the sight of her placing a small jewelry box on the table. Your heart sank at the sight, and you were shaking your head before she finished talking.

“I don’t want anymore jewelry,” you told her to which she frowned.

Elena studied you, tilting her head.

“…but I’m replacing your bracelet.”

She said it slowly, like your words confused her as much as they confused you. You loved jewelry. All of your friends knew that about you, but as you stared at the box, there was a pressing thought in your mind that you didn’t want any more jewelry.

Especially from Elena.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Your phone vibrated in your pocket before anything else could be said, and you looked down at it. A smile graced your face as you read the text, and you carefully started to grab your things.

“I actually have to go,” you told them, gaze resting on Elena. “I appreciate the gift though.”

You were unsurprised when footsteps were quick to echo yours on your way to the door. A familiar voice calling your name gave you pause, and you turned to face Elena, gaze questioning. Her eyes were full of so many things she wanted to say, but she looked like she didn’t even know where to start.

“What’s going on with you?”

You slowly shook your head.

“I don’t follow…”

She rolled her eyes, head tilted.

“You dropped out of college, you barely spend time with us —and when you do you’re barely here—and you’re always running off at a moment’s notice. Now, you won’t even take the bracelet I’m trying to give you? That bracelet was really important-.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I lost it-.”

“No, you don’t get it,” she sighed. “It’s not about you losing it. It’s just really important that you wear it.”

“Why?” you wondered, and that seemed to have stumped her.

Elena ran her hands through her hair, blowing out a breath before coming up short. Her dark eyes lingered on the scarf around your neck, and she stared at it for what felt like too long. Unsure as to what was happening, you turned towards the door.

“Look, if that’s it, I really have to go-.”

“Is that new?”

She was referring to your scarf, and without thinking, you clutched it, tightening it around your throat.

“No,” you told her. “I’ve had it for a while, now. I’ve just never…”

You trailed off when she moved closer, a deep frown on her face as she leaned in.

“What are you doing?”

She paused at your tone, eyes boring into your own, and something passed through her eyes that made you take another step back.

“Take it off,” she suddenly said, voice but a whisper.

“No,” you told her. “I can’t.”

Your words gave her pause, and her eyes widened slightly at what you said specifically. Her hand lowered, and she ran her eyes over you.

“Why not…?”

Now, it was your turn to pause, mind going a mile a minute as you realized…you didn’t know why not.

“I…don’t know. I just know I can’t take it off,” you whispered.

She looked stricken at your words, although you didn’t understand why, and you watched her swallow.

“Y/N, don’t-.”

“I have to go, Elena,” you hurried out, pushing against her hands as she tried to stop you.

You were quick in making your way to your car, not sparing her a backwards glance as you hopped in. Damon’s text was fresh in your mind when you started the vehicle, not wanting to keep him waiting.

You stared into the foggy mirror, eyes roaming over the bite marks on your skin. Damon was just stepping out of the shower behind you, and you paid him no mind, fingers lightly tracing the bruising. Deep within the recesses of your mind, you knew that this was wrong, that the sight before you was very wrong, but you felt nothing less than calm as Damon came up behind you.

“What’ya doing?” he wondered, almost singing the question as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Looking,” you murmured.

“Well, stop that,” he lightly demanded, gently brushing your hand aside.

Damon leaned his chin on your shoulder, humming as he looked at you in the reflection.

“They healed fast before…right?” you softly asked, knowing they had before.

“I gave you my blood before,” was his answer, and you nodded. “I like seeing them.”

Your eyes met his in the reflection as his confession reached your ears. Now, it was his turn to brush his fingers over them, blue eyes darkening the longer he stared at the bite marks and bruises.

“It’s like a mark, you know?” he said in a small voice. “My mark.”

He turned his head, pressing his lips to your neck.

“I really hate sneaking around in your house, you know.”

You frowned at his words.

“Well, the alternative would be the boarding house…and you said I couldn’t tell anyone about us…”

You reminded him of that, turning around in his arms to face him. Damon blinked at the reminder, eyes rolling towards the ceiling as he thought hard.

“Hmm. I did say that, didn’t I?”

He pursed his lips, stroking your face and drinking you in. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his face, enjoying the sight of it and him. Damon seemed to notice, smirking to himself as he leaned in to gently kiss you.

“Yeah, well…that was before, and now you’re mine and you’re not in college anymore, so you can come and live with me.”

His tone was chipper despite the severity of what he was suggesting, and your eyes widened.

“My dad would kill me,” you breathed.

Damon exhaled, a small smile on his pink lips as his hands came down on your bare shoulders. He traced patterns into your skin with his thumbs, and you felt yourself relaxing as you held his gaze.

“You leave your dad to me…okay?”

You slowly nodded, not quite sure why you were agreeing. You were so young, and Damon and you were too new to be moving in together. It seemed insane, but you felt okay with the decision as he brushed his fingers over your face.

“I just worry about him,” you confessed. “Ever since my mom’s death… He’s just always so alone.”

Damon frowned at you at that, blue gaze sympathetic,

“It’s been what…? Twelve years now?”

You didn’t recall ever telling him how long it had been, but you nodded, anyway, heart clenching at the faint memories of a woman you barely got to know. His arms were secure around you as he assured you that everything would be alright. You didn’t doubt that. After all, when it came to Damon, you had perfect love and perfect trust.

Damon had breezed into your life like the wind, and now you couldn’t imagine a life without him. You knew that Elena—none of your friends really—would approve, and you were wholly prepared to never hear the end of it once you moved in together. They would freak out, but Damon had never been anything but good to you.

He never hurt you when he bit you, and the bruises were only from him holding you too tight in bed. He’d been right to suggest dropping out of college. It had been taking up so much time, and you really did hate going back and forth. Something in the far back of your mind was telling you that Damon having so much control over you and your life was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Especially when he kissed you so passionately and held you so tightly.

Damon touched you like he didn’t ever want to let you go, and you loved it. You loved the feel of his lips on your skin, of his fingers around your ankles, and of his teeth in you. You couldn’t help but to trace the veins that appeared beneath his eyes at the very thought of tasting you. Nothing made you happier than letting him sink his teeth into your thigh while you writhed on your bed, fingers tightly twisting into his dark strands.

There was something entirely other about being a source of satisfaction for Damon in more ways than one.

It was why you weren’t listening to a word Elena said as you packed up your car.

“He is compelling you,” she stressed, eyes wide and tearful. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“Elena, please…”

“You would never just drop out of school! Did he give you that bruise too? The one on your arm?”

“Leave it alone,” you told her, slamming your door closed.

She prevented you from rounding the car, hand tight on your arm. Elena looked terrified as she studied you, taking in the circles beneath your eyes no doubt.

“How long?”

She seemed to be wondering to herself rather than talking to you.

“How long since you ‘lost’ that bracelet? How long since you haven’t been wearing vervain and Damon’s been feeding off of you-?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You pushed past her, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“No,” she argued, trying to pull you out of the car. “Y/N, you can’t. Let me call Stefan, and he’ll make you remember everything-.”

Her words were cut off with a loud gasp, and you sharply inhaled too. A familiar back was before you, Damon standing between you both, and you looked around his shoulder, watching as Elena took a few steps back. Her entire visage was clouded in anger, and she looked at Damon like he was the devil himself.

“What have you done to her?”

Damon tilted his head with a happy hum, reaching back to rest his hand on your waist. He half turned towards you, guiding you to get back in the car. You met Elena’s worried gaze, and she looked like she wanted to take a step towards you.

“What I do with Y/N is, quite frankly, none of your business.”

“Damon…”

He paused at the sound of your voice, briefly turning to look at you with a waggle of his brows.

“It’s alright,” he told you, briefly touching your chin. “I’m just politely telling Elena that our sordid love affair doesn’t involve her or Stefan or anyone else for that matter.”

“This isn’t love! You’re hurting her and keeping her with you against her will,” she spat at him. “What is wrong with you, Damon? Why…? Why her when she’s done nothing to you?”

You grew nervous when Damon grew silent. He took a few steps towards Elena, and when he spoke, his voice was cold, venomous, nothing at all like how he sounded with you in the privacy of your bedroom.

“I wanted her…and so I took her,” he plainly told your friend, and you frowned. “Diagnose me as a killer returning to the scene of the crime or a lovesick fool, pick your poison, but she is mine, and I’ll be damned if I give her up.”

Something about what he said—or how he said it—had Elena’s lips parting, and she stumbled back, looking between you and him in horror. Before either of you could blink though, Damon had closed your door and was already sitting in your passenger seat. Elena was banging on the locked door as he told you to drive, and gazing into his eyes, you were overcome with the urge to do what he suggested.

You slid down onto his cock again, a moan escaping you as Damon’s arms circled your waist. Blood ran down your torso, excess escaping Damon’s mouth as his teeth pressed into your chest. One of his hands came up to smear it along your skin, loving the feel of it against his own skin. You felt like you were floating on cloud 9, fingers tightening in his hair, your other hand pressing into his shoulder.

You hadn’t left Damon’s room in days, having no desire to. All you wanted was to stay in his bed, and Damon was all too happy to let you. Your phone had long been out of sight, none the wiser to any calls and texts you might’ve missed. You didn’t know what Damon said to your dad to make him over the moon with the idea of you moving in with the older Salvatore brother, but you were beyond grateful.

If any of your friends had ever come by, you didn’t know.

You were in your own world with just you and Damon, and you couldn’t be happier. When you came around him, shuddering with broken moans escaping, Damon finally pulled his head away. His lips were covered in blood, and before where the sight of it used to make your stomach turn, you felt no ill will at the red along his lips. You touched his mouth, fascinated by the sight.

He opened his mouth, and when a sharp tooth pricked your finger, fresh blood touching his tongue, he flipped you.

Your chest arched upwards towards the ceiling, nails clawing at the sheets of the feel of him thrusting into you again. His teeth were in your neck, pinning you between him and the bed, and you couldn’t hold in your mewls.

“You taste…divine,” he breathed sloppily kissing you. “Do you know that?”

You weren’t bothered by the taste of blood in your mouth, always so calm and at ease in Damon’s presence. As he lazily plunged his cock into you, thrusts slow and languid, a thought passed through your mind that you couldn’t help but to voice.

“Are you… Are you going to kill me one day?”

You knew what he’d told Elena, and the thought didn’t scare you, but your curiosity got the better of you.

“Kill you?” he lowly wondered, kissing you again. “…and ruin all my fun?”

He smiled into your lips, and you returned it.

“I meant what I said,” he told you, gazing into your eyes. “You’re mine, and I’ll be damned if I give you up.”

That reassured you, and you relaxed beneath him when another question plagued your thoughts. It must’ve been all over your face because Damon brushed his nose against yours.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he whispered, and you searched his eyes.

“When you said…”

You took a deep breath, confusion plaguing your thoughts as you fought to understand his words on your own.

“When you said…a killer returning to the scene of the crime…” Damon took a deep breath. “What did that mean?”

Damon didn’t answer you for what felt like a long time, and at first, you thought he simply wouldn’t. When he moved, you hissed at the feel, and he slowly grabbed your hands, pinning them beside your head. Damon gazed into your eyes, blue turning to black as it filled your vision, and you were completely frozen beneath him, feeling like you were under a spell.

“Twelve years ago…” he slowly started. “I ran into a woman whose car broke down on the side of the road.”

Somehow, you knew what he was going to say, and to your surprise, your heart wasn’t threatening to leap from your chest. You felt so calm, safe beneath him despite the tears that kissed your eyes.

“I killed her, and it meant nothing to me…”

You didn’t blink, and neither did he.

“…but then I came here twelve years later, and I never expected to meet her daughter…and call it guilt or some twisted desire to be a demented monster, but I want you all to myself.”

His hands tightened on your wrists.

“…and you want me too. You love me, and you have never felt safer than when you’re with me.”

“I always feel safe with you,” you mindlessly murmured, your voice sounding foreign to you.

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

“…and you would kill yourself before ever letting anyone take you away from me.”

His deep baritone settled in your brain like a warm hug, and you slowly nodded. Learning that Damon killed your mom should’ve terrified you, but he was right. You never felt safer than when you were with Damon, and when he leaned in to kiss you, his lips covering yours, you welcomed it. He slowly let your hands go, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap them around his neck, holding him close.

Your blood was on his lips, and the sight warmed your heart, happy to make Damon happy.

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