#did he promise his mother to graduate

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.

It’s surreal.

A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.

Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.

You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.

But you couldn’t.

Not today.

Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills. 

Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.

So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

Enough was enough. 

Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.

The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad? 

Yes. Yes, you very much did. 

The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise. 

Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”

“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”

“Sweetheart—”

“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”

“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”

“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.” 

“What is it?” he asked, stepping back. 

“Can we sit down first?” 

He grinned. “Of course, baby.” 

With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.

The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.

As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table. 

“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.

The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.

“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.” 

His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”

You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”

“Work,” he replied shortly.

“Is that so?”

“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.

“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”

“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”

“I am home.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”

Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind. 

You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother. 

Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard. 

“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.

“To see you.” 

“Why are you here?” 

You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.” 

“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.” 

“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”

“Bullshit.” 

Yeah, bullshit. 

What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months. 

Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?” 

“To you.” 

He lifted a brow. “To me?” 

Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never. 

You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talk—”

“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.” 

“Baby . . . ” 

“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.” 

“Y/N—”

“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”

Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings.. 

“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?” 

“Yes.” 

“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.” 

“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.” 

Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”

“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.” 

Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.” 

“I’m on the pill.” 

His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?” 

“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms. 

“I fuck hard.” 

“Good.” 

“Last chance.” 

“Nope.” 

Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?” 

“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”

Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.” 

“Really?” 

He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words. 

Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.” 

You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”

“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.

“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.

Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.” 

“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.” 

“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 

“No,” you said sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?” 

You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?

“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.” 

“Toji . . . ”

“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” 

“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.” 

Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?” 

“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?” 

Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.

Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.

“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could. 

You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.

“Toji . . . am I dead?”

His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.” 

He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.

You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.” 

“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?” 

“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.

You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.

“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?” 

“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.” 

“Learned it from my daddy.”  

Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.” 

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.

Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.

“My pretty whore.”

Thrust.

“My gorgeous girl.” 

Thrust.

“You belong to me, baby.” 

Thrust, thrust, thrust. 

He was a complete monster with you. 

Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.

Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 

That’s all you wanted to hear. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.” 

“Finally, Jesus.” 

Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.” 

He pushed into you in one-quick go. 

You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.

You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home. 

Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name. 

You both came together. 

Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted. 

You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.

He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass. 

Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?” 

You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.” 

“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.” 

You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.” 

Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.” 

Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.” 

#forgive me God for i have sinned #zaraswriting #jjk x y/n #toji smut #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk toji x reader #jjk toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw smut #tw sex mention #fem reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jujutsu toji #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen

[1nyourdr34ms]

baby, you're so mean

+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: mark x virginfem!reader

synopsis: you and mark know each other since middle school, but you always thought of him as a loser and he hated you for that. one day you meet again as college students, but mark is and looks completely differently which gets you confused until you realize you're head over heels for him.

genres: smut (!), enemies to lovers

warnings: fem!reader wears revealing clothes, mark is kinda bad here (at least his point of view to some topics), he smokes, unprotected sex (BUT YOU PROTECT. PLEASE. ALWAYS!), toxic kinda relationship, vulgar language

mark and you have known each other since you were fresh teens. he is and was always too aware of your beauty and attractiveness. he knows exactly how you can light up the room when you smile. that radiant smile of yours... mark also knows how much you love lemon cake, and has noticed your sadness when someone is treated unfairly.

but beyond that, and he is all too aware of this, he has intensely studied your body. he has attentively observed how your juicy butt sway sensually when you did rope jumping in front of him in gym class. or how seductive your cleavage always looks when you bend over to get a notebook from your bag.

were you a girl that all the boys in school dreamed of? definetely.

were you a girl that mark dreamed of as a love interest? not exactly.

despite all these enticing observations, mark could never really stand you. your mothers were good friends, and you were neighbors since childhood, meaning you have actually known each other forever.

but you never truly paid him any attention. no matter how friendly he was to you, you were mostly reserved in his presence. a friendly smile was the most you would give. and even worse, at school, you acted as if you didn't know each other at all, although you practically grew up together. you treated him as if he were invisible.

instead, you gave your attention to the 'hotter' and 'more popular' boys in your class or school. at least, that was marks perception. with them, you act entirely different than you would be with him. you were popular, had excellent grades, and got on well with everyone, but never gave mark a bit of your attention. more than enough reasons, why he hated you!

after graduation, family lee, decided to move to another city which was 25 miles away from your house. for them, it was professionally advantageous, as mrs. lee had found a more promising position in her field, and mark became the opportunity to go to the university he had desired.

it was a mild summer evening when you went down the stairs to the living room and found that your mother was not there. you looked out the window and saw your mother talking to mrs. lee, while mark was loading suitcases into his car. then it struck you like a bolt of lightning: mrs. lee said goodbye to your mother for good.

you rushed to the porch to join the farewell. 'i am terribly sorry, mrs. lee. i completely forgot that you were leaving tonight,' you explained with a concerned smile.

mrs. lee smiled broadly. 'no problem, dear. we're still here,' she reassured you. you hugged her warmly, while mark only received a blunt 'take care, mark' from a distance from you. you didn't even look to his direction properly.

'what a...', mark thought, and hurried to the driver's seat of his car, before he could think about it for too long.

to him, you were just a... well, a 'bitch', a 'hoe' whatever. one who sought the attention of boys, who hung around and slept with the biggest idiots of the school.

he didn't deny that he found you beautiful and attractive, but you were and would never be more valuable to him.

the only thing that connected you both was your mothers. apart from that, you were fundamentally different as individuals.

he came from an educated, wealthy household, while you in your childhood hoped that your mother had enough money to visit an amusement park next month.

thanks to your mother's promotion at her job, you reached a turning point in your life. just before high school, everything changed for you both. you moved to a new area, bought a house, your mother had a successful career, you did super well in school, and now you live happily together.

mark couldn't help but feel a deep aversion to the indifference you had shown him, an ignorance that offended his ego and challenged his pride at the same time.

he sat in the driver's seat of his car and waited for his mother. he allowed himself a glance in the rearview mirror to watch you. despite his hatred, he found it difficult to resist your seductive aura.

he saw the way your hair fell playfully around your shoulders every time you tilted your head, the slight sparkle in your eyes that remained alive even in your absence, the way your smile warmed the surrounding atmosphere, the way your breasts moved slightly up and down every time you made short jumps of excitement, the way your waist line was in perfect proportion to your wide, defined hips.

the view of you was torture for him because, for the young man, you were something he deeply desired but loathed on principle.

as mark's mother got into the car, he started the engine, took one last look at you, and drove away, unaware that your paths would cross again in an unexpected turn.

you never saw mark again after that - which was lucky for you because you actually hated him!

he was the perfect neighbor kid that your mom compared you to. she would always say things like "look, mark got an a in chemistry class, i expect the same from you…" or "mark is such a smart guy, he got his driver's license at his first try…" or "oh, mark is such a sweet child and accompanies her mom to church every sunday… you should take an example of him."

an example from the boring, loser boy… yeah, sure, mum.

she was only obsessed with mark because he was her bestie's boy. otherwise, he wouldn't have been an issue in your family at all and you would surely have had your peace of mind.

so good for you that the alleged perfect boy, who in reality was nothing but a boring, unattractive loser, finally disappeared from your neighborhood.

let's switch to today, 5 years later, a lot has changed in your life over the past few years.

you are about to graduate from university with a degree in bioengineering and are just a few steps away from moving to a big city, you have been dreaming of since forever, and starting a new, free, independent life.

unfortunately, for your liking, this small, dull town limited your opportunities and potential to do more with your life.

a big city should change this obstacle.

so your dream was to rent a cute little apartment, find a job with excellent pay, meet the love of your life, and start a family.

you were a romantic at heart. even if it was hard to believe from the outside because everyone rather thought of you as a hoe - which you were completely aware of.

but you were also a girl, who believed in true love and the magic of starting your own family.

sadly, you haven't had much luck in your love life so far because most of the male species in your life only wanted to fuck your body.

accordingly, there was no suitable male with whom you could experience your first, real relationship. there was also no one with whom you could experience your first time in bed, which you wanted it to be special.

yep. surprise, surprise! the super-hot girl with the super-hot, sex-appealing figure from school was actually something between a virgin and a celibate!

of course nobody knew.. you were outstanding at making out, not shy to let your breasts get sucked or eagerly suck their dick, so nobody really questioned it.

whenever it was close for the male to stick his dick into you, you always offered them to give a blow-job and do it for real the next time. somehow, it always worked.

but you wanted to lose your virginity status before leaving this city forever. only, to make a good memory and as a form of farewell to your old life in this city.

sometimes, you fantasize about meeting your future partner. he would probably be a manly man with a lot of charisma who can make you happy, protect, and satisfy you.

but that was all fantasy at first.

today you were invited to a house party thrown by the super-hot fellow student johnny.

you knew he was ready to fuck you whenever or wherever. you could tell from his eyes and his countless boners whenever you two studied together - or johnny tried to study when he wasn't busy staring at your boobs.

you could literally run him around on your finger because of that.

and this kinda behavior was undoubtedly what put you off from having sex. as soon as you sensed that a man was an easy target, drooling over you, you lost interest and the desire to jump into bed with them.

at the party, you and johnny were sitting in the small kitchen of his parents' house. you're wearing a short, tight, black miniskirt that showed off your thighs and embraced your juicy butt. a matching tank top that slightly revealed your stomach and breasts, and over that you've put on a black bomber jacket.

he talked your ear off for 15 minutes about his plans for the future, how he's going to work in his father's company in a high position of responsibility and earn a lot of money.

by contrast, you have been mentally planning your excuse to head home. this party has been a complete waste of your time.

completely dazed by your thoughts, all the noise from the music, the conversations of the guests and the diffuse atmosphere in the room, you only realized now that you could feel johnny's breath on your neck.

which was a sign for you to instinctively step back. you took a look at him and noticed his lustful eyes. whatever mood he was on, you could unfortunately not feel it.

you smiled briefly and politely excused yourself to the living room. johnny is definitely not going to be the planned candidate to take away your virginity status.

as soon as you entered the living room, the music got louder, also the volume of the conversations as well as the physical distance of the guests got even more intense.

you sighed and cast a quick glance around the room to find a good place to relax.

all of a sudden, your gaze lingered on the far corner of the room as you recognized the familiar face of someone you thought you had long buried away.

sitting on the couch, was none other than the old shadowless boy next door, mark lee. he was sitting in a group of three students together, laughing heartily and clearly having fun.

you recognized the two students in front of him, jeno and yuta from your uni. but who was the girl right next to him?

unanticipated, in the middle of the living room among the crowd of students having fun, you stood frozen on the same spot, trying to both identify the girl and understand what mark was doing at this party.

was he even the same mark you once knew?

he looked so… different, which, to your surprise, certainly did something to you.

suddenly, you were oblivious to all the noise in the house and felt like you were submerged underwater.

your perception became numb, and you could only perceive mark clearly. without being able to logically understand why his presence had caused such a shock state in your mind and body.

mark was sitting too close to the girl, their knees were touching and she was clutching his arm. was she his girlfriend?

apart from her, mark was the one who excited you with his whole new aura: his hair, his masculine jaw line, his physique, his moving… nothing resembled the shady old boy from your neighborhood anymore.

he looked so damn attractive and appealing to your eyes.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't recognize johnny's presence behind you until it was too late. he had long since grabbed your hips and stroked his member lightly on your body.

when he noticed how motionless you were, he followed your gaze and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "mark lee?" he murmured.

you looked up at him in surprise? how the hell did johnny suh know mark lee?

johnny was a hugely popular student at your university. he came from the ivy league, was mega sporty and worked as a model on the side.

while mark, was a mama's boy who mostly stayed in the background, listened well to his parents, joined the church choir and lived by the rules.

what timeline were they living in that their paths would cross?

the equation just didn't add up in your head.

he turned away from you with a beaming, happy face and staggered slightly in mark's direction, affected by the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

johnny willingly goes over to talk to him and leaves you behind?!

"mark lee, what's up, man?" he shouted gleefully. mark's face also brightened when he saw johnny. "yo, johnny, dude, what's up?" he returned his greeting and held out his fist.

the two exchanged brief words until johnny turned around, presumably looking after you in the crowd.

you proactively made your way over without letting him look for you any longer.

johnny immediately put his hand on your hip when he noticed you next to him. you glanced at mark, who looked rather preoccupied with the female companion next to him, to even notice your presence.

"he-heeeey, y/n!" yuta shouted, getting up to hug you.

the sound of your name finally woke mark up, causing him to look up at you in amazement and confusion.

yuta quickly got a chair for you and johnny so that you could sit down. he positioned your chair as close to him as possible.

you thanked him with a smile, sank into the chair, and crossed your legs, which made your miniskirt go a little higher. mark studied you thoroughly with his black eyes. from top to bottom. his eyes slowly traveled from your neck, to your breasts, to your stomach, to your legs and finally to your feet. he completely took you in with his eyes.

you couldn't understand why, but you liked the attention he showed you. it gave pleasant butterflies in your stomach.

as soon as he realized that you had caught him in his act, he averted his gaze and took a sip from his glass, which you found amusing.

the girl next to him clung to him tighter, when she noticed his eyes were glued on you.

the whole night you were being hit on by yuta, jeno and johnny. you had all their attention except for mark. the one you were most interested in at the moment.

his little attention, in the beginning, was all he could give to you because he didn't even glance at you for a moment afterward.

instead, he was busy making out with the girl next to him for the whole night.

eventually, the night ended without anything special happening.

johnny and yuta fought with each other to walk you home, but you insisted on driving home alone and were glad that they didn't insist any longer.

on your way back home, you couldn't help but think about mark.

was he always so attractive and you were too blind to recognize it or did he go through a second puberty?

either way, you couldn't get his dark eyes out of your head, the way he looked at you, the way his lips curled into a heart-melting smile, whenever he told something, the veins in his arms whenever he clutched his glass and his pointed jawline.

and the way his mouth moved sensually as he kissed the girl next to him. god… you wondered how his lips would feel if you kissed him... your cheeks heated up at the thought.

holy crap, who would have thought that the nice, silent kid from your neighborhood, would make your insides shake like crazy?

is uni even uni if you don't have to attend a zoom meeting for the smallest occasions?

presently, you were preparing to attend a zoom meeting to meet the team for your research internship.

it was the last practical part of your master's degree program before graduation.

you were informed that it was a small working group in microbial and molecular transformation. in about five minutes, you were about to meet your internship supervisor and other colleagues.

so after straightening your hair and applying make-up, you opened your laptop and clicked on the zoom link provided.

a few seconds later, the counselor's contact window appeared. you smiled politely and looked up to the small screens to see how many people were present.

along with the tutor, there were three other people present: someone named alex, someone named giselle and someone named mark.

when you read the name, you immediately thought of a certain person, but quickly put the thought out of your mind because it would be impossible for him to be-

suddenly, the student's video window took on texture and color, causing you to almost lose your breath when you realized that it was indeed the mark you had in mind.

he was wearing a black beanie, glasses, a white shirt, and an olive green jacket. even in this state, inexplicably, he managed to raise your pulse.

throughout the meeting, you occasionally glanced at his screen to check him out. most of the time he was attentive, bending his head to probably do something on his phone, and when he spoke, he spoke so confidently and sympathetically that it warmed your heart.

he exuded a cool, confident, personable demeanor that you wouldn't associate with him before. mainly, he shared his thoughts about the project, they were working on.

as soon as it was your turn to introduce yourself, you noticed that he switched to a poker face, while everyone else was patiently listening to you, and he even reached for his cell phone while you were still talking. kinda rude… was he ignoring you on purpose?

despite his uncertain behavior, you tried to be not intimidated and delivered a confident introduction to the team.

you wished he had shown you more attention, but that wouldn't have been possible via zoom anyway.

two days later, the first day of your internship had arrived. on a sunny day, you walked from the university parking lot to the research building with zero expectations in your mind.. you would be glad to just finish this internship and graduate soon.

you were wearing a gray, thin, knitted sweater with long sleeves and a wide, square neckline that slightly exposed your shoulders and showed your bra strap. the sweater was cut short and ended above your waist, revealing part of your stomach. to match, you were wearing a pair of black jeans with a high waist, tight fit and a hemline just above your belly button.

as you approached the building, in front, you noticed a male figure smoking. the closer you got, the more you could identify him as being mark.

wow, who would've thought, it would be that easy to see him here.

he was wearing a casual, long-sleeved shirt with a checkered pattern of dark and light blue tones and dark blue jeans that emphasized his casual look.

you immediately recognized his dark, expressive eyes and the way his facial muscles contracted whenever he pulled on the tilt of his cigarette.

the younger y/n would've never have guessed that mark would smoke someday...

he seemed to continue his game of ignoring you, never turning his head in your direction and trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

while you, in contrast, looked straight at him as clearly as possible as you almost reached the door.

you two were standing in a line as you held out your arm to open the door. you leaned back to pull the heavy door, but your movements were slow since you were hoping he'd give you a small glance in this small encounter.

he took one last drag from his cigarette and briefly glanced over at you before throwing it on the floor and extinguishing it with his right foot.

you were already in the building and couldn't help, but smile at the small, insignificant interaction. the tension between you two was starting to appear slowly, but you were 100% sure, that he was deliberately ignoring you.

as you walked down the long hallway to find the office where you were supposed to arrive, you heard footsteps behind you, coming closer and closer.

you stopped in front of room "c9" and checked your cell phone again before knocking in, to make sure you were in the right place.

the document you had saved on your phone, took ages to open, but then suddenly you noticed a figure in front of you, who tried to unlock the door.

mark.

"you're here for the internship, right?" you hear him say without looking at you.

"um, yes, exactly," you answer.

he opened the office door, and you followed him, although he did not properly invite you in. inside the office, there was no one else besides you two. you found a table, that seemed to be free and put your bag down.

"we've come to the conclusion that you work in alex' team. just like me. giselle is pretty closely involved in three projects this semester, so she can't make time to supervise you. that's why we're taking on this task," he explained to you as he booted up his computer without looking at you.

you simply nodded and sat there uncomfortably. one thing for sure, he had certainly managed to make you uncomfortable. great!

to break the strange silence in the room, you asked if alex was also working in the room. unfortunately, mark just nodded and hummed.

he only opened his mouth, when he had something to say, that was necessarily work-related; like when he e-mailed your weekly tasks.

for the next 40 minutes, silence captured the office, while you two were working.

mark looked pretty focused. a little too focused for your liking.

unfortunately, you, on the other side, could do anything, but focus on your work.

not, when his appearance was enough to distract you. at the same time, several question marks formed in your head as to why he was ignoring you so blatantly. he acted as if you two were strangers, or as if he would hate you. it made no sense, why he would think like that.

if he didn't recognize you from the past, he should at least be friendly to a supposed stranger.

while you were busy with these thoughts, suddenly, the door opened wide. "shit, traffic jam!", alex entered the room. you turned around and gave him a smile. mark didn't even move from his position.

when alex recognized you, he smiled widely. "aaah, the new intern. hello, i'm alex." he held out his hand. you stood up and shook his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself.

"it's a pleasure," he looked at you longer than allowed with a grin and squeezed your hand lightly.

of course you were aware of this annoying gesture, looked like, unwillingly you caught another guys' attention.

there was no progress between you and mark all day. he worked like a workaholic on his computer, while alex occasionally got up and leaned over your shoulder to "help" you with your tasks.

after a while, alex disappeared upstairs to attend another meeting, leaving you and mark alone in the office again.

mark got up and walked to the bookshelf. you took the situation as an opportunity and followed him. when he turned around, you had already blocked him; standing in his way.

"why are you ignoring me?" you asked directly. mark looked surprised. "excuse me?" he mumbled.

"you. you're ignoring me. there is no way, you didn't recognize me. we know each other from the past. from school. you act as if you don't know me," you cleared out, crossing your arms.

mark slowly lowered his gaze to your arms. you could see that he was clenching his jaw and deliberating.

"but i have to admit…" you suddenly exclaimed, causing mark to look at you again.

"that even i had difficulties recognizing you. you look different." you said quietly and moved a step closer. "fairly different." you looked into his eyes with a smile.

mark paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. "well, that's usually what time does. some change for the better, while some…" he said with a dry undertone.

you raised your eyebrows while you waited for him to finish his sentence. you didn't remember that his voice was so attractive.

mark decided not to finish his thought and looked directly at you. "um, it doesn't really matter. you really should-"

"do you have a girlfriend?"

the question left your mouth without a warning. you had become so lost in his eyes, captivated by his masculine energy and enveloped by the subtle scent of his perfume, that you just had to ask.

mark seemed visibly shocked by your sudden question. his eyes widened for a moment before he caught himself.

"a girl..friend?" he repeated as if he needed to process your words first.

then he sighed. a looong, deep sigh. "why the hell should you care?"

you noticed how his words made the air between you crackle even more. his natural reaction, so surprising and genuine, only drew you closer to his aura.

so you leaned forward a little, your eyes fixed on his, and with a whisper, you said: "because i need to know if there is someone i need to compete with. or if i'm the only one who has the privilege of making you nervous like this."

your words were challenging. you were standing very close to him, close enough to feel his breath. close enough to smell his smoked cigar.

mark only looked at you and raised his eyebrows, visibly confused and at the same time challenged by your directness.

he took a step back to create some distance between you two. his gaze became penetrating, almost cutting.

"competitor? privilege?" his voice was cool, almost sharp. "you still think the universe revolves around you, don't you?"

you could feel how his words triggered a mixture of attraction and repulsion in you. you've never experienced this feeling with a man before.

"you're wrong, y/n" it was the first time you heard your name coming out of his mouth, and you loved it.

mark took a deep breath. "it's the other guys who fall at your feet. that… that's definitely not me," he said sharply.

you couldn't help but smile, fascinated by his determination.

your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you lean forward. "oh yeah? then, who are you, mark? tell me how 'different' you are from others." your voice was flirty and playful.

"i saw exactly how you looked at me at the party."

mark gulped visibly, as if he was preparing himself, to give you an answer. but you could notice, that you made him slightly nervous with your remark.

for a moment there was an intense silence in which you looked deeply into each other's eyes. just as the tension became almost palpable, the door opened with a loud squeak.

alex re-entered the room, completely unaware of what happened of your interaction. "so, back to the cave! y/n, how's the text going?"

his cheerful voice broke the silence, and brought you and mark back to the present.

mark took a step forward, his eyes leaving yours as he marched back to his table.

you turned around, a smile on your lips. "i'm coming!" you shouted.

the next three weeks were unspectacular. mostly, mark focused on his work the whole time and alex never let you do your work alone, because you'd need "supervision", which made it difficult for you, to interact with mark again.

one day you walked back into the building again while you were reading the message in the workgroup that alex had sent.

he would not be present today because he was sick. when you read the message, your heart soared, impatient to see mark in the office.

you walked down the corridor to the office while he ran towards you.

he seemed to be leaving the office. but when he saw you, he left the door wide open. you looked at him questioningly, while he gestured that he was going out for a smoke.

another good thing about the office was, apart from the fact that mark worked here, that it allowed a view of the smoking area.

mark was leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers. he was wearing black jeans and a white, casual shirt. so basic, but so hot at the same time.

he took a slow drag on his cigarette, and every time he exhaled, the smoke formed a little side haze in front of his face. you watched the whole scene as if it were playing out in slow motion in front of you.

mark occasionally brushed his hair out of his face with the back of his thumb, showed a small frown when he was thinking, or occasionally looked off into the distance as if lost in his thoughts.

you positioned your chin in your hand, while the thought germinated in your mind that there was much more behind mark's tough façade than you had seen so far. his calm, almost thoughtful manner as he stood there had an almost magnetic effect on you.

you wanted to find out what was going on in his head, what he was feeling…

when mark had finished his cigarette, he threw it on the floor and stubbed it out. he turned around and noticed through the window that you had been watching him.

your eyes met for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

mark broke the eye contact with a neutral look and made his way to the office.

your internship would end in 5 weeks and it was not clear whether you would still meet mark afterwards or whether alex would give you the space to be alone again in those 5 weeks.

so today was crucial. you thought about how you could get closer to him and an idea came to you.

you walked to the nearest café and bought some light food for lunch. you planned to have lunch with mark at the office and hoped to make some progress.

the murmur in the hallway revealed that the other people were making their way to the cafeteria. you glanced at mark, who also seemed intent on eating in the cafeteria.

before he got up, you intervened. "wait, how about we have lunch here?"

mark, just about to put on his jacket, pauses when he hears your suggestion. his gaze wanders indecisively from you to the door and back again.

at that moment, you take a few packets out of your bag and spread them out on the small table at the back of the office.

"i got sandwiches and salad," you say with a smile and raise your eyebrows innocently.

"it's not a proper lunch, but it's better than what's served in the canteen. besides, it's quieter here."

you watch mark closely and notice how his gaze briefly falls on the food.

he's still hesitant. he doesn't think it's a bad idea in itself, but eating alone with you was pretty risky.

"come on, mark. it's not like i'm going to bite you,"

unless you ask me to…

mark looks at you hard for a moment before sighing and finally nodding. "alright, but for your information, i'm not a big fan of sandwiches."

you smile triumphantly and point to the chair opposite. "sit down, i promise it won't be that bad."

no wonder why people say, that the unique opportunity we seek lies within ourselves. and the opportunity you were seeking was to be alone with mark, who should of course would be working.

the break lasted 45 minutes in total. a period of time that was crucial to your success.

you rolled up your sleeves to get a sandwich out of the bag. you wore a long-sleeved, slightly see-through, figure-hugging white top with a u-neckline that slightly exposed your shoulders. you wore a classic pair of blue jeans in a five-pocket style that emphasized your hips.

you sat next to each other and ate your sandwiches.

your happy face could hardly hide the fact that you had this rare opportunity to eat alone with mark.

you sneaked glances at him as he ate his sandwich and noticed the way he occasionally furrowed his eyebrows whenever he took a bite of the sandwich.

"did you actually move back to the neighborhood after you… well, moved away with your mom?" you asked cautiously, hoping to learn a little more about him.

mark, who had just taken a bite of his sandwich, paused.

his gaze hardens and he slowly puts his sandwich down. "y/n, i really appreciate the food and the silence," he says in an almost cool voice. "please don't let us cross the personal line."

you feel a slight disappointment rising inside you, sigh, but don't let it discourage you.

the two of you continued your lunch in silent suspense.

suddenly marks cell phone vibrates on the table. he hesitates for a moment as he looks at the display before picking it up.

"yes, i'm listening," his posture changes as he listens, he straightens up and his voice sounds business-like.

you can't help but get curious. it was a female voice.

you listen to the female voice on the other end of the line, sounding lively and friendly. was she possibly the girl from the party?

you watch closely as mark speaks to her.

his facial expression remains neutral, but his eyes reveal a certain familiarity with the person on the other end.

your curiosity about what the girl on the other end was talking about was driving you crazy.

you unconsciously moved closer to mark, awkwardly stirring the cup between you.

a small push of your elbow was enough to send the contents spilling across the table.

"damn it!" you exclaimed quietly as you hurriedly got up to clean up the mess.

mark, still on the phone, looked briefly irritated, but then concentrated on the conversation again.

you rushed to the shelf in the corner of the office to get some tissues while keeping the convo in your ear.

"yeah, yeah, i know… that's important to me too," you heard him say. his voice sounded softer. he hadn't spoken to you in this tone before.

this personal note in his tone made you falter for a moment. why can't he treat me like this?

you shook off your thoughts and returned to the table with your handkerchiefs, trying to hide your curiosity. "sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you leaned forward to wipe up the spilled liquid.

mark put the phone aside and replied curtly, "no problem".

you wiped the table without a care in the world until you realized that mark had been watching you the whole time. his eyes were particularly focused on your boobs swinging back and forth, as you wiped the surface of the table. you acted hastily beforehand, instinctively, unaware that your cleavage would display your boobs right in front of mark.

his sudden affection for you made you embarrassed and your cheeks flushed.

mark, realizing he'd been caught, cleared his throat and quickly returned his gaze to the sandwich in front of him.

at the same time, you couldn't help but grin as you threw the handkerchief into the garbage can and sat back down in your chair.

mark, on the other hand, was now visibly nervous and tense. he knew that you had noticed his looks and his interest.

you awkwardly put your drink away and tried to start a conversation to bridge the awkward silence.

"you know, when i was little, i was so obsessed with donuts that i-"

"you wanted your father to own a donut factory," he interrupted you.

you were visibly shocked that he remembered such a trivial detail. "how do you know that?" you asked, your eyes wide with surprise.

"you told me about it in 8th grade when we were supposed to talk about our childhood wishes," he replied casually, as if it was common knowledge.

you could hardly believe that mark had never forgotten such a banal piece of information about you. it showed how attentive he must have been to you even back then.

he didn't look at you properly until now because he was still embarrassed by his double exposure earlier.

"um… the phone call was just work, by the way," he stammered, obviously trying to change the subject.

you were still a little shocked and needed a moment to understand what he was alluding to. then you remembered the phone call and Mark's glances at your breasts.

you giggled softly at his frantic attempts to cover up his actions. "sure, just work," you replied.

mark sighed and looked directly at you. he continued to try to lighten the atmosphere and asked if you needed help with your chores.

you were nibbling on your jam sandwich and couldn't help but laugh. "do you really need an excuse to suppress your supposed 'crime', mark?" you asked directly and slightly defiantly.

mark, caught off guard by your directness, watched you for a moment.

he remembered how beautiful he always thought your smile was back then, because your eyes always lit up like the first ray of sunshine of the day when you laughed.

"thanks, but i'll be fine. i'll come to you if i need help," you said, biting into your sandwich again.

then you looked directly at him. "but i have to admit, i'm impressed by how productive you are. so focused… and you look pretty hot too," you added with a fleeting smile.

in truth, mark's productivity masked his desire for you. he was afraid that you might hurt him if you rejected him. he was afraid of himself, that he might get stupid ideas if he looked at you or even talked to you.

everything about you was reason enough to excite all his cells and organs in his body.

your presence was a fulfillment of his deepest, hidden desires and a painful agony at the same time.

mark felt his pulse slowly rising. he studied you more closely for a moment.

for little mark, it was nothing more than a dream that you were sitting next to him so openly and complimenting him.

he saw how your long, slightly wavy hair fell over your shoulders and lightly touched your breasts at the tips, how you looked at him with smiling eyes, how your whole body was focused on him.

he slowly lowered his gaze and noticed that he could see through your shirt, your bra and how your nipples were slightly visible through the surface of your shirt. it wasn't directly visible, but if you looked long enough you could see them.

you didn't even notice that mark was about to eye-fuck you because you were too engrossed in your story.

then mark looked at your face again, and he noticed the little jam mark on the corner of your lips. he thought you had left it there on purpose so he would notice it.

a sigh escaped him. "are you doing this on purpose?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

you were completely unaware of the jam stain, looking at him with an innocent expression. "what do you mean?"

mark pointed slightly at his own lip to show you the stain. "that jam stain there. it kind of makes you…" he breaks off, searching for the right words, while you searched in vain for the stain with your fingers.

if that's not one of her tricks to seduce a man…

mark thought to himself. but you were really clueless as to what he meant by the stain.

mark looked slightly annoyed and suddenly extended his finger to remove the stain from your lip.

his gesture took you completely by surprise and your eyes widened in astonishment as you stared at him.

mark wiped the stain with his thumb and noticed the way you looked at him.

the two of you were locked in an intense eye contact as mark's thumb still lingered gently on the corner of your lip. his eyes darkened as you felt a sudden electricity in your body.

he gently moved his fingers over your lips while his gaze was anchored on them.

you felt the warmth of his skin and a tingling sensation spread through your body.

your next move was completely instinct-driven, quite risky.

without thinking twice, you slowly opened your lips and took mark's thumb fully into your mouth, all the while gazing longingly into his eyes.

you remembered your plan, your desire for him… your growing arousal progressed.

you firmly held his hand tightly to keep his thumb in your mouth and licked and sucked on it.

if he would be willing and would allow, you were ready to suck his dick on the spot.

marks breath became heavier and his throat dried by the view of you.

he tried to suppress his inner turmoil, but the sudden intimacy of yours obviously threw him off balance.

the intimate air in the office was broken by the surprising sound of the door suddenly opening.

a young, beautiful girl stood in the doorway, looking for mark.

mark jerked his thumb back as you moved away from him, startled and embarrassed.

the girl stood confused at the doorway, staring alternately at mark and you.

mark cleared his throat and quickly rose from his chair. "yo…, hey," he stammered, clearly trying to control the situation.

"i was just on my way out. what's up?" he asked as he approached the girl and closed the door behind him.

you were left alone in the office, still caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, and you couldn't help but smile. your heart was beating fast with excitement and the adrenaline triggered by the unexpected closeness with mark.

you rushed to the window to get some fresh air, breathing heavily.

mark was outside the room, visibly trying to collect himself. he unobtrusively rubbed his thumb over his pants to dry it. his usually controlled façade towards you had been shaken for a moment.

the girl was explaining something to him, but he found it challenging to follow her because his thoughts were still on you.

the next day was really weird. you and mark tried hard to act as "normal" as possible and forget what happened yesterday.

"what's this all of a sudden?!" you exclaimed with a furrowed brow as you stared at your monitor.

the internet connection had broken, leaving you without access to the browser or the faculty's network drive.

since alex was off sick again, you looked to mark, who continued to work undisturbed by your outburst.

you tried to solve the problem yourself but realized after about 10 minutes that you had to run to the it service.

with a sigh, you grabbed your bag and left the office without telling mark; he would ignore you anyway.

luckily, you didn't have to wait long at the it service, and your issue was quickly resolved.

on your way back to the building, you saw mark leaving the building.

as he saw you coming, he gestured for you to follow him. you looked at him questioningly but walked in his direction at the same time.

"how about we call it a day and grab some food together?" he asked casually, squinting his eyes blinded by the sunlight.

his offer sounded definitely appealing. without questioning, you agreed with a "sure." you wanted to say that you needed to grab your stuff but noticed that mark was already holding it and handed it to you.

his kind gesture touched you. where did the guy go who ignored you all day??

when mark made this offer, you didn't imagine that you'd be eating burgers from a drive-thru in his car.

he had parked his car in a nice park's parking lot and started unwrapping his burger. you also took your burger in hand and handed him his fries.

this move made him recoil as if he was startled by you.

you looked at him for a few seconds.

"sorry, and yeah, thanks," he cleared his throat and placed his fries on his lap.

"what was that about? don't worry, i'm not going to stick my finger in your mouth," you remarked slightly offended and bit into your burger.

mark furrowed his brow "what are you talking about? i did not assume, that-" he tried to defend himself.

"judging by your behavior, you were obviously nervous that i might do exactly that," you continued to argue.

he shook his head and changed his sitting position so he could better look out his window.

you wondered why he had invited you to eat in the car if he was afraid to get closer. or, was that exactly the plan? no wonder his first thought was to recoil when you handed him his fries.

"you want me to get closer, don't you?" you asked softly.

"yea, you want us to get closer. that's why you invited me into your car. right?" you looked sideways at him, with a proud smile that you had seen through him.

mark chewed on his burger and shook his head slightly "it seems like you're the one who's hoping for that," he noted clearly.

"is that wrong?"

"what?"

"that i'm hoping for it."

"do you?"

"yes"

mark looked at you blankly. he looked as if he was solving a very difficult math problem in his mind.

"y/n, as a woman, you should be careful and not talk this way with a man. it can end very dangerously," he warned you.

you smirked, "but i'm talking to you."

"still. you're a woman."

now you were the one giving him a puzzled look, "what does that mean? just because i'm a woman, i can't have sexual needs? how old are you, mark? 80?"

"that's not what i'm saying. it's just that you're very attractive and very... dangerous... for me," he noted hesitantly. "...and very attention-grabbing for all other men."

you listened to him attentively, "does that make you jealous? or insecure?" you asked him.

mark sighed loudly, "it makes me uncomfortable... that's why...um... i wanted to eat with you in the car."

his remark made you laugh, while he looked at you as if you had gone crazy, "oh, mark, you're just so sweet. have you ever thought that you might be projecting your own desires onto others?"

"what do you mean?"

"aren't you the one who's mentally fucking me all the time and not the other men? isn't that what you want? just say it if that's the case. look, i'm being honest with you: i want your dick."

mark's eyes widened, he started to blush and protested loudly "wtf, y/n, i said, you, as a woman-"

"oh, stop being mean, mark. i know what i want as a woman. the question is, are you as a man ready to admit what you want?" you hinted with a flirty tone.

mark swallowed as he looked at you. he glanced briefly at his finger and tried to suppress his smile, "can you also...", he cleared his throat, "take other things in your mouth?", he asked quietly, his gaze shifting between your eyes and your lips.

life was really crazy. the guy you once hated so much was destined to take your virginity, and you only realized this during an internship in your studies.

after about 15 minutes of driving, mark parked in front of an apartment complex and stopped the car.

suddenly, it occurred to you that mark might need to know that you're a virgin. would that scare him off?

mark noticed your inner conflict and asked if everything was okay.

you hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. "it's just... you might want to know that i... am a virgin."

mark stared at you motionlessly for a moment, before he suddenly started to laugh. his reaction left you confused and slightly hurt. "good joke, y/n," he said, reaching for the door handle, ready to get out.

you were confused and grabbed his hand to stop him. "i'm serious. i really am a virgin," you said firmly.

mark turned to you in surprise, his laughter fading. "that's impossible," he replied incredulously, his eyes searching for any sign of a joke in your face.

you looked at him directly, your eyes open and serious. "why would that be impossible?"

mark's gaze didn't leave your face, as if trying to see behind your facade. "because... well, your body is... it's just hard to believe that you're a virgin."

you couldn't help but smile. "that has nothing to do with experience, mark."

mark was still not convinced. "dude, you've literally slept with every popular guy in class."

you couldn't believe your ears and were visibly shocked by his comment. "how the hell did you come up with that?! who am i supposed to have slept with?"

mark looked at you incredulously. "dude, come on... jaehyun? soobin? hyunjin?"

you were just speechless. "yeah, i might have made out with them at most..."

"you literally sucked hyunjin off," he said with a poker face.

"you.., okay, wow, i can't believe i'm having this conversation with you. this is not how i imagined our first time," you were just flabbergasted. first, because those guys were spreading stories about your moments, and second, because mark knew all about it.

"mark, just because i've had those experiences doesn't mean i've actually slept with them. i've never met the right one from whom i could get it," you assured.

"not yet... until...?" mark asked with a grin.

"... until i met you," you smiled.

mark felt around your lower back, grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up. while he took off his own shirt, you unclasped your bra.

your breasts were big and full and your nipples light pink.

mark flattened his palm on your boobs, his broad hand pawing at each of your breasts in turn. you had to bite your lips as he found each of your nipple, tweaking them firmly to bring them to stiff peaks.

your cunt clenched and you couldn't help the way your hips tried and bucked up to chase for some friction.

your body was toned and shapely. mark was always aware of that as he let you slight in his wettest dreams many times in the past.

he felt and squeezed your plump ass.

you tore down his boxers and admired his throbbing cock with a bite on your lower lip.

"are you scared?", mark asked with a shaky voice.

"i'm excited", you whispered.

"naughty girl", mark smirked.

you salivate at the way his foreskin strains against his tip, smeared with precome, which you licked away, making mark moan "oohhHh, yes".

mark pulled his hip back and put his hand tight on the back of your neck as you brought your hands up to stady his cock.

you wrapped your dominant hand around the base of his cock as you braced your other hand on his thigh for balance.

mark pressed you down onto his cock with the hand on the back of your head. you splutter at the sudden intrusion, hollowing your cheeks to stop yourself from gagging.

you looked up through bleary eyes to see his mouth agape, his eyes glassy as he watched his dick disappear into the wet heat of your mouth, "aahHhh, fuck-", he cursed.

you moaned around him as you squeezed the base of his cock, losing yourself to the moment as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "good baby, you're taking it so well, ahHhH", he continued to moan.

while you continued to work your mouth up and down, pulling almost all the way out to lap and suckle at his head. you used the tip of your tongue to toy with his slit and he shuddered, you smiled to yourself before committing to something more.

you relaxed your mouth as much as possible before starting to take him deep in your throat with hard, fast movements. the wet sound of you burying his cock deep in your throat was loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"good girl", he said through gritted teeth as he rocked his hips forward to meet your eager mouth.

you coughed and spluttered around him as he picked up the pace fucking your throat until tears were streaming down your face. mark finally relented as you felt your throat contract, threatening to make you gag.

you gasped for air as he held your head back, forcing you to look up at him as he grinned down at you, "i won't just nut in your mouth and end this", he stated with a smirk, "no chance, baby", he said.

you looked up at him, ashamedly open mouthed as you felt the arousal swirling in your core.

"alright, i'm gonna fuck you softly with my fingers and you're gonna tell me, if it feels good or bad, okay? last thing i want is to give you pain."

"yes", you almost whispered.

after getting you fully naked and putting you onto his bed, mark shoved his fingers into you and groaned deeply when he felt you clench around him on instinct.

fuck, i wished, it was my dick, she was stangling, he thought.

"you okay?", he reassured.

you nodded with a heated face and closed eyes, "keep going."

you shivered as he took in the perfectly shapen lips and letting his middle fingertip just run down your slit, making you shudder at how perfectly he split you just a little so it brushed over your clit, stimulating you ever so lightly through the hood and making you tremble.

"mark", you said and stopped his hand from fucking your pussy. you knew, he could feel that you were already wet enough.

"what's wrong, baby?"

"fuck my ass, please", you bluntly said, blushing a little as you just blurted it out. you didn't want to come this early and you always fantasized mark getting you from behind, so it was the perfect time for that.

"you sure?", mark carefully asked, but you already positioned yourself, getting all on your fours in front of him.

you sank your bank and let your knees slide wider to show yourself off.

"perfect", he smirked at the sight of your plump ass, making you glance back over your shoulders at him and smile.

to your surprise, mark dived down and pressed his tongue to your asshole, grabbing your hips to hold you in place as he licked over your sensational part.

"ohmygod", you choked in surprise, the feeling like nothing else you've experienced as he attacked you with passion, taking his time, but gave you no chance to ease into it.

it completely caught you off guard.

your shock turned to willing pleasure, letting your legs slide a little wider, arching your back to push back into him, "hmmMmM.. yeas, baby..", you whimpered.

a tingle ran through your whole body, hands tightening in the cheap sheets as you shivered, body trembling and a stuttering groan escaping your mouth.

suddenly your pleasure was abruptly interrupted as mark pulled away from you, leaving you ready as you gasped in shock and looked back at him.

your eyes locking onto his thick, throbbing erection as he squeezed it out and rubbed it over his impressive prick, slicking the bulging head as he stepped closer behind you.

you breathed deeply to calm your racing heart, the excitement and nerves sent adrenaline through you as mark reached down and grabbed a rough handful of your long hair.

he twisted his grip on you enough to make you wince and pushed his straining cock to your tight, not being that gentle with you as you expected him to be.

he testingly thrusted against you and felt how you resisted, "relax, babygirl", he breathed out. he held you dominantly in place as he worked against you and eased you open.

his pace was steady but inexorable, not giving you a chance to resist or pull away anymore.

you gave away, feeling yourself stretch naughtily over his invading head, mark used just enough pressure to drive his thick cock inside you without going too fast.

"you like that, y/n?", he teased, "is that, what you were hoping for?".

you seethed a little at that, but didn't say a word. you had literally invited it and had to take it, to let him work his magic on you and bring you to climax.

"the popular, sexy girl at school on her knees for me, taking my cock in her ass like a little-", he didn't finish his sentence, seeing you twitch as you held your temper back as he started thrusting himself deeper inside you, making your tightest hole take more of his cock.

"man, i knew, you would love this", he added, smiling as he shoved himself into you firmly, but carefully. his pace was calm and measured, taking his time with you.

his thrusts were controlled and purposeful, working deeper inside you.

pleasure melted into you all as you felt the full, satisfying sensation of the sex you were having with him, nerve endings stroked for the first time by his cock as he pumped you deeper and deeper. working all of himself inside you until his hips pressed to your toned booty.

"oh fuck...", you muttered as you shuddered and started picking up his pace a little. marks pumps got harder and more intent, making sure to go full depth every time you took all of him.

you gasped in pleasure, "oHhHhHH, maarkkk", you moaned. you heart was racing as you immediately blushed, barely able to believe you was enjoying your first time.

your breaths became harder, more intense as he pumped into you. marks hands still pulled at you, his fingers pressing into your soft skin as you readjusted his grip on your hair.

"oh mark, mark, just like that...", you moaned as you felt your orgasm building, your core tightening as he pounded you over and over again.

marks groans filled the room as he filled you.

"please, baby, i'm so close..."

"fuck", mark moaned in response, but didn't give in to your pleas, dragging out your orgasm and pulling back so he could delay you.

you whined in protest and slipped your hand between your legs, where you teased your clit, grinding against your fingers.

"y/n!", mark scolded, pulling your hand away from your aching pussy and restrain both of your hands at the top of his bed.

"i want to come, mark... i want-"

"i know, i know", mark smirked, his voice soothing as he stroked youur hair. "patience, baby. i am enjoying my break, this will make it more pleasurable."

"to the hell with... with... the break...", you groaned, but couldn't deny how much you were enjoying this.

you loved being pinned down, being fucked like this, it made you feel desired, loved and most importantly safe, because it was mark.

mark let out a breathless laugh as he continued his rhythmic movements, his grunting and moaning were only making you want to reach completion more.

"oh, y/n, you feel so good, baby..", he praised, smirking when you let out a huff beneath him.

you gasped when mark adjusted himself, so he was fucking you, just right, his thumb pressed against your clit.

"yes! markkk!", you cried, your eyes squeezed shut and you were breathing heavily as you lost yourself in him.

it was perfect. no one had ever touched you like this. no one had ever loved you like this.

you came with a cry, walls clenching around his cock.

your arousal spilling down his length.

you gasped, your heart racing as you pressed your forehead against his pillow. you felt marks hand grip your hips to steady you.

"y/n, i'm coming, i-", mark let out an unrestrained growl as his hips stuttered and he filled you with his seed, causing you to let out a weak, defeated moan as warmth flooded you as it often did.

"you're just... perfect, so... fucking... perfect...", mark stated, totally exhausted.

you both stayed like that for a few moments while your pounding hearts steadied and your breathings began to return to normal.

mark pulled out of you and you adjusted yourself on the bed, spinning around so you were laying next to him.

you had been fucked senseless, just as you wanted your first time to be and mark made your wish have come true.

today was your last internship day. your relationship with mark had changed since the incident. he couldn't ignore you anymore and always sought your company when alex wasn't around. after that, you even had sex four times. one of those times was in his office - when alex wasn't there.

on your last day, you wore a white, short-sleeved crop top that clung to your large breasts and highlighted your beautiful figure. you paired it with a high-waisted, fitted mini-skirt with a glencheck pattern in shades of gray and classic white sneakers.

it was a normal workday. at the end of the day, you said goodbye to all the employees. except for mark.

he invited you to a café.

once at the café, you both sipped on your drinks until mark broke the silence.

"you know, in school, i couldn't stand you. you treated me like i was a ghost. it really bruised my ego."

you looked at him in surprise before responding. "honestly, i felt the same about you. you were always the perfect child my mother never had."

mark's laughter filled the café. "well, at least your mom had the hotter kid that mine never had."

your mutual amusement quieted for a moment before you became more serious. "you're not fair, mark. i find you totally hot."

mark's gaze softened. "it's going to be hard to part ways with you, babe."

you both fell silent for a while, each lost in thought, until an idea came to you.

"what if you come with me?" mark initially shook his head. "that's not possible."

but you insisted. "why not? think about it. you and me together. every day. every morning. every night.", you gave him a teasing look.

after a moment of hesitation, mark gave in. "you know what? maybe i should really do that." his gaze intensified. "then i could continue to be the one who keeps you wet."

your cheeks turned red at his words.

"shh, mark, not in the café...", you warned him, which made him chuckle.

"so, are you ready to come with me?" you asked him.

"you crazy? i am more than ready. here's to us and to what the future holds."

his words made you smile. "glad you exist, markie."

"glad you exist, darlin'. i'm proud to call you mine."

with those words, a chapter in your life closed, and a new one began - with mark -, full of promises and unknown adventures, side by side.

#nct #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee imagine #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #nct mark x you #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct mark smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct mark x reader #nct mark x y/n #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

[matts-k1tten]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

summary: Matt and y/n were best friends in high school, after graduation they parted ways and forgot about each other and their feelings for years. But what happens when they finally see each other again?

warnings: swearing, heavy smutttt (like yall voted on), fluff, don’t like it, don’t read it.

*not proofread*

————————

ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈᵃʸ

Today’s the day, after this day I’m free from school.

I really won’t miss anyone or anything here. I was always what everyone considered me as, a nerd. Since I always got along with the teachers and always had straight A’s.

But they all agreed on one thing about me, that I was gorgeous. But no one ever went for me because they all thought I was weird.

Not Matt, he loved my weirdness. In fact, he was just like me. He was smart and funny and we got along well. I always had feelings for him. His brothers Nick and Chris were amazing too.

But Matt and I always had a different relationship.

He wasn’t the best looking, but that doesn’t matter because I always go for personality.

So here we are now, graduating school.

“I’m so proud of you Matt, of us. We did it Matt! We survived high school!” I shout as I jump on him.

Matt laughs as he hugs me back. Matt squeezes me with all his strength.

As both of our grips soften I get sad thinking of the downsides of not seeing him everyday anymore. He was the light of my day.

“Matt?” I whisper in his ear in a broken voice.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

I pull back and look up at him. “Promise you’ll stay in touch?”

He smiles.

“Promise y/n, I’m not going anywhere.” He finishes and hesitates for a moment before he leans in and kisses me.

The kiss was so passionate and sweet I melted in his arms.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I paused for a moment before I kissed him back with all the love I have for him. Kissing him made everything around us disappear it truely felt like it was only me and Matt in the room.

His arms sneak around my waist as mine go around his neck. I feel Matt smile into the kiss.

He pulls me impossibly closer as our lips mold together.

I pull back and smile up at him, he smiles back.

“y/n we have to go celebrate! C’mon let’s go!” My mother shouts from behind me. I look back before dropping my hands from matt’s face slowly.

“I have to go Matt, I’ll call you later. We can hang out tomorrow!” I say as I hold his face and kiss his cheek.

He nods and we both let go.

If only he knew how much I really loved him with all my heart and soul.

-

³ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ

I lay on my bed with my roommate also best friend next to me. After graduation, I moved in with Amelia one of my close friends in high school.

We moved to LA right after graduation to get a fresh start and pursue out youtube career.

We got to busy starting our own youtube channel that we could barely manage to visit home.

We’ve gained so much subscribers and got so much love that I’m so thankful for.

I’m scrolling through TikTok when something pops up.

A video of these boys named the “Sturniolo Triplets”.

Sounded familiar, I just can’t remember.

I go to the comments and they’re filled with comments on comments about how funny they are.

I ask Amelia if she knows.

“Hey do you know who these ‘Sturniolo Triplets’ guys are?”

She looks at my screen and shakes her head. “Never heard of them before.”

I kiss my teeth and search them up on youtube. Their channel immediately pops up with their most popular videos.

I click on one and examine them.

This is a waste of my time.

I click out and put on some music. “C’mon Amelia, we have to get ready for this influencer party!” I shout as a song starts playing. She groans before she sits up with a light tug on her arm.

“Fine! Just let me pick out a dress!” Amelia says with an attitude.

I don’t reply feeding into her attitude. Amelia always has an attitude and I learned how to deal with it because if I’m gonna live with her I have to get used to her.

Amelia stomps off to her room to pick out a dress as I start to dig in my closet.

I found this perfect black silky short dress that really compliments my figure. “Perfect!” I shout to myself.

“Y/n! Should I wear a silky royal blue dress or a silky white dress!” Amelia shouts from down the hall.

“I’m wearing a silky black dress you should wear the whole one to match with me pair it with black heels, I’ll wear white heels!” I yell back.

“That’s a great idea!” Amelia says excitedly and slams her door to change.

I change into my outfit and put on my white heels. I use this black pocket purse to hold my lipgloss, phone, and whatever I need.

I run into the bathroom to do my makeup and Amelia walks in right after me. I take one sink and Amelia takes the other.

-

Amelia pulls up to the huge venue to where the party is at and parks far from the entrance.

“Why’d you have to park so far? We’re gonna get drunk and forget where the car is!” I turn my body to her.

She unbuckles and looks at me with a blank face.

“Not us, you. I’m staying sober tonight I don’t wanna wake up with the worst hangover ever because we have to film tomorrow and I don’t want to have the worst headache while filming.” Amelia says sternly and hops out the car.

I groan and roll my eyes before quickly running up behind her. “Who do you think we’re gonna meet? Oh my god! What if we meet Vinnie Hacker!? Or Baylee Levine, Sam and Colby! Ohh! I hope Colby falls in love with me, he’s so sexy. And oh! Tara Yummy! Oh my god I love Tara Yummy she’s literally my wife! What if we meet Jake-“ Amelia cuts off my rant by stopping us mid walk.

“Shush! Yes! There is a chance we’d meet them but just wait till we get in!” Amelia says now annoyed with my random rant and storms off to the entrance. “Sheesh someone’s got an attitude.” I mumble under my breathe and walk a few inches behind her.

We make it to the entrance and get checked in and are immediately greeted bye loud music and the smell of alcohol mixed with cologne.

I drag Amelia to the bar and I order myself a vodka cranberry. “Are you seriously not gonna drink tonight?” I ask as the bartender slides my drink over to me and smiles.

I smile back and turn back to Amelia.

“Like I told you, we’re filming tomorrow! You can get drunk but I’m not!” Amelia snaps back and opens her phone. “Suit yourself.” I reply as I take a sip and look to the dance floor.

I look around and see many familiar faces of influencers whom I’ve seen around social media.

Someone catches my attention by walking towards Amelia and my direction only to figure out it’s Tara fucking Yummy.

“Hey! I’m such a huge fan of you guys! I just wanted to come over here and tell you guys how much I love and and also ask if I could get a picture. sorry if I’m fan girling!” Tara giggles a bit.

Tara yummy? A fan of, us? I looked stunned for a moment before I snap out of my daze and reply.

“Yes of course! It’s totally fine we love you so much I was actually talking about meeting you before this!” I laugh.

Tara laughs as well as she takes out her phone and snap a picture with us.

“Also before we came in she was talking about how you’re her wife.” Amelia says with a small grin on her face. I smile and shake my head covering my face out of embarrassment.

Tara just laughs at my reaction.

“It’s ok babes, you are my wife. But I also wanted to ask if we could collaborate sometime?” Tara smiles at me. My face lights up as I look at Amelia.

Amelia smiles and nods. “We’d love to collaborate with you!”

“Great! Just give me your numbers and I’ll next you whenever!” Tara replies with the cutest smile.

She hands us her phone and we put our numbers in. We hand it back and she yells a quick thank you and walks away.

I slowly turn to Amelia with a cheeky smile on my face still smiling from the interaction. “Tara yummy is a fan of us and wants to collab!” I scream and hold Amelia’s hands.

Amelia smiles and laughs.

“We should go dance!” I yell over the music. “Yes!” Amelia replies and drags me out. Amelia and I start jumping around and screaming with the music.

I stop for a moment to catch my breathe and meet a pair of frozen blue eyes.

Still looked so familiar, I just couldn’t remember.

He was staring right at me as I examined his features. Brunette fluffy hair, defined face shape, slight beard, tall, and wearing all black with keys hanging from his pants.

My jaw slightly drops. He was fine.

He seems to be checking me out pretty well by the way his eyes keep going up and down my body. He was just standing there with a solo cup in his hands and bites down on his lip as his eyes trail all around my body.

His eyes suddenly meet mine and chills surge through my body. His stare was so intense.

He looked at me through his hooded eyes. I couldn’t look away and neither did he. It was only then when Amelia taps me. “What are you looking at?” I break eye contact with the stranger and look back at Amelia. “Nothing, let’s just go sit down my feet hurt.” I smile slightly as she nods.

We go back to the bar stools and take a seat. We start talking and laughing and after a while I look around my eyes finding the boy again. But this time he’s on the dance floor with a smile and he’s holding a girl, a beautiful girl.

It kind of hurt, seeing him there with another girl.

I didn’t even know why it hurt.

Watching them sway to the music her hips gliding against his with his hands around her waist. I wore a slight frown and turn back to Amelia with my head down looking at my lap. She notices the change of mood.

“What happened?” Amelia questions. My head snaps up at her. “I-I don’t know, nothing.” I respond and look back at the dance floor. But the girl wasn’t there anymore, she was replaced with two other boys who look identical to the boy. My eyebrows furrow as I glare at them.

The same boy that was staring at me earlier turns his head in my direction and meets my gaze. I sit there frozen staring at him once again. The two other boys continue to dance as he just stands there moving his body a bit, staring at me.

“Are you sure nothings wrong? you keep zoning out.” Amelia says from beside me which makes me break the eye contact.

I nod. “Yeah.” I reply and turn my whole body back to the bar. There was a slight tap on my left shoulder.

I jump a bit and turn to who tapped me. I met the same pair of blue eyes as he stared down at me with a cold stare.

“Hey, I just came over here to say hello and say you look awfully familiar.” The guy speaks. I just smile and open my mouth to speak when he cutes me off.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself first. I’m Matt, Matthew Sturniolo.” He speaks again.

My eyes widen as my face lights up.

“Oh shit! Matt? Oh my god! I-it’s been so long! Sorry, it’s me, Y/n! From high school!” I shout and hop off my chair suddenly shrinking as I get off my chair.

His face turns as he smiles brightly at me. “Oh my god! Y/n! I didn’t even recognize you! How are you?!” He asks as he goes in for a hug. “I’ve been great! I started my own channel and it was successful! How about you!” I reply as I accept the hug and stay there for a moment then pull away.

He holds me by the waist as my arms are still around his neck. “Same! Me, Nick, and Chris also started a channel and got a lot of love!” He shouts over the music. I smile as my eyes trail around his face now that he was up close.

I could still see the same nerdy Matt from high school. Just different.

My eyes look to his lips, they were plump and pink. They looked so soft.

Since he was closer, I could really see his defined face shape. His cheekbones and jaw line.

I move my hand to touch his face my fingers following his cheekbones and down to his cheek to rest my palm there.

He just smiles and melts at my touch. He looks in my eyes as his pushes his face further in my hand.

“Let’s go somewhere more quiet and catch up, yeah?” Matt says breaking me from the trance he put me in. I nod as I turn to Amelia who was to distracted by her phone to notice Matt. I tell her I’ll be back and walk off with Matt. He brings me outside to the parking lot and to his car.

“I thought we could talk out here since it was a little muggy and hot in there.” He smiles down at me.

I smile up at him and nod. He leans against the car door as I do the same beside him. “You look….different.” I break the silence. He looks over at me. “In a good way or…” Matt asks.

“Yes! Of course! You look amazing, Matt!” I say as I turn my whole body towards him. He just laughs at my reaction. “Thanks, you look great too.” He smiles softly to which I return.

Matt inhales roughly before speaking.

“You know, in high school I had a huge crush on you. So much that I would write about you everyday.” Matt confessed. I chuckle and look down at our feet.

It was nice to be in his presence again.

“I had a huge crush on you too, you knew that, right?” I look back up at him. “I’m pretty sure I figured out by that kiss we shared at graduation.” He smiles. I feel my face flush as I look away. I totally forgot about that.

“Y’know, my feelings for you never changed after all these years. I always wanted you and only you, it broke my heart when you left without a word.” Matt says the energy changing from happy to sad. “I guess we’re confessing now, huh?” I look at him. He just stares at me blankly. I inhale.

“Well, my feelings for you always will forever remain the same even if we are a 6 hour plane ride away from each other or a 15 minute car ride. I’ll always choose you no matter what.” I can’t help but smile after my confession staring in his eyes.

Matt stares at me in awe before he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

I get that same feeling again, the one I had at graduation. I’m taken a back a moment before I lean to kiss him back wrapping my arms around his neck. He sneaks his arms around my waist and continues to kiss me.

We’re in the same position, 3 years later.

The longer we kiss, the more intimate it gets. Matt grips my ass and hips as he pulls my whole body against his. He was way taller than me which made it harder to kiss him.

I had to get on my toes and he had to bend down to kiss me. But it didn’t matter, all I wanted was to feel his lips on mine again.

Matt pins me against the car door and presses his whole body on mine assuring I can’t escape. Matt slides his tongue on my bottom lip asking for permission which I quickly granted.

Our tongues fight for dominance but Matt wins and his tongue explores my mouth.

I put one of my hands on his cheek as the other stays around his neck pulling him impossibly closer.

We both pull away for air and I look down at his lips which are red and plump from our previous actions. Matt yanks me off the car door and opens it then throws me inside. Matt wastes no time in crawling right on top of me and slams the door and smashing his lips back on mine. This time the kiss was more aggressive and needy.

I couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as his hands go everywhere around my body.

Matt pulls away to take off his shirt and goes right back in. His hands trail down to my thighs which are revealed because of my dress. Matt pulls away again and swiftly pulls my dress over my head leaving me in only panties and a bra. Matt examines my body for a moment.

“I always knew I chose you for a reason.” He says lowly and kisses me again as he plays with my breasts. Matt’s hands go under me as I arch my back to take off my bra. Matt unclasps my bra and tosses it to the front as his lips trail down my chest and to my nipple.

My hands are tangled in his hair as he nibbles and licks it repeatedly.

After a while, he switches to the other breast and gives it the same attention. His actions only make my noises grow louder.

Matt trails his lips down further to my stomach, lower abdomen, and to the band of my panties. He looks up at me for permission and I quickly nod to impatient to speak. He slowly pulls down my panties to tease me.

“M-matt, please.” I whine. “Be patient.” He growls. “Let me look at you.”

He then takes off my panties and throws it to where my bra landed leaving me completely revealed for him. Matt licks his lips his teeth showing as he did.

Matt blows cold air on me which makes me shudder and let out a quiet moan.

Matt starts kissing down my thighs getting closer and closer but switching to the other thigh every time he was face to face with it. “Matt!” I yell and groan frustrated by him.

Matt chuckles lowly which sends shivers down my spine. “So needy.” Is all he says as he buries his face in my pussy.

I moan loudly at the sudden impact as he works on my clit sucking aggressively. I whimper uncontrollably as Matt works on me.

Just then, Matt’s phone starts to ring.

Matt grabs it without detaching his tongue from me just looking up at his phone as he has it above me.

Matt hands his phone to me. “Y-you want me to answer?” I say as I look at the contact is to notice that it was Chris. “Mhmmph.” Matt hums against me which sends vibrations through my body.

I press answer and put it on speaker. “Matt where the fuck are you? you wondered off like 20 minutes ago and never came back. Nick and I are getting tired and wanna go home.” Chris says angrily.

“H-hey Chris-“ I say trying to make it sound like his brothers face wasn’t buried in between my legs. “Who is this? wait. y/n? I thought I recognized your voice! why do you have Matt’s phone?” I was about to respond when Matt flattens his tongue and moves his head side to side aggressively.

My back arches as my mouth falls open silent moans leaving it.

“Umm. hello?”

“ye-ah?”

“why do you have Matt’s phone?”

“mmph”

“hello?”

“Matt and I-I! came outside to talk and he went to use the bathroom r-really q-quick and left his phone-ah!” I cover my mouth and smack Matt’s head as he laughs against me.

“Are you okay? what happened?” Chris asks. “Nothing! I’m fine! I-just-uh- hit my finger.” I say in a hushed voice.

“o-kay?-“ Chris is cut off my Matt’s muffled laughter his mouth still attached to me. “Was that Matt? Put him on!” Chris shouts. Matt snatches the phone and hangs up.

Matt drops the phone on the floor and continues. “You taste amazing.” Matt says pulling away for a split second.

My hands go back to his hair as Matt sucks my bud and wraps his hands around my thighs. My eyes roll back as my back arches farther.

Matt inserts one finger, the move taking me by surprise which makes me let out a pornagraphic moan. He starts pumping in and out slowly as his mouth still worked on me.

He inserts another finger and goes faster. I’m a moaning mess as he curls his fingers expertly hitting my g-spot. My moans grow impossibly louder the more he hits that spot.

I feel a knot start to form in my stomach as Matt continues his motions in a faster paste. The knot grows in my lower abdomen and I start clenching around Matt’s fingers.

His fingers were long and slim which made it a perfect fit. I unintentionally start to slightly grind on his face as he moves faster.

He hits that spot again, again, again, again.

The knot grows stronger as Matt looks at me through hooded eyes. My hands stay tangled in his hair.

“I-I’m close.”

“Come on my face, give it to me.”

With his words, I feel myself start to release all over his face with a loud moan.

Matt helps me through my high but doesn’t stop there. He keeps on going even more stronger and aggressive. I couldn’t take it, it was too much.

I try to push him off but he grabs my hands and holds them in a ball. “I’ll stop when I want to, you taste to good.” Matt speaks lowly. I moan uncontrollably as Matt continues his actions.

“M-matt! please! s-stop! I’m sensitive!” I scream and squirm.

“Just a little longer.”

I practically scream with the loud moan I let out. That familiar knot builds in my stomach again. I grow louder as he continues to suck and shake his head. Without saying a word, I come on his face again.

Matt licks up all my liquids and comes up to my face wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands.

“Wasn’t to bad, huh?” Matt says as he kisses me making me tastes myself. I kiss him back as Matt unbuckles his pants and slides down his boxers. We both pull away as I look down at him.

My jaw falls slack. His tip is an angry red leaking with precum.

Matt laughs as he grabs the base and strokes himself a few times. “Tell me if you want me to stop, I will.” Matt says quietly and starts to push himself in stretching my walls.

I bite my lip to muffle my moans as my hands go around to Matt’s back my nails digging into his skin. I whimper once he’s completely in, he pauses to let me adjust.

“Y-you can move now.” I say.

As the words left my mouth, Matt starts to thrust at an ungodly paste making the whole car shake and creak. Little grunts leave Matt’s mouth as loud moans and whimpers leave mine. My nails dig deeper into Matt’s skin as Matt continues to pound me.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” Matt says in my ear. I just look in his eyes with my mouth open.

Just when I thought he couldn’t go faster, he started to move at an inhumane speed. Matt was fucking me so well I couldn’t think straight. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he moved.

“Look at me or I’ll stop.” Matt says.

My eyes snap back to his fighting not to squeeze them closed. Matt goes so deep that he hits my cervix which makes me go crazy.

I’m screaming so loud I’m pretty sure anyone around us could’ve heard us. “I love hearing your pretty little noises.” Matt speaks again. The knot starts to build up again, but this time more stronger and vivid, and satisfying.

I start to clench around Matt as he grips my breast with one of his hands watching them bounce with every movement.

“I can feel you clenching, c’mon. Come all over me baby.” Matt teases and smiles.

Matt reaches his hands down to rub my clit which only makes my nails dig deeper in his back leaving deep red scratches, some even bleeding.

I feel Matt’s dick start to twitch in me as I start to release. I feel myself squirting all over Matt and his lower stomach.

Matt follows soon after me burying his load deep inside me. Matt collapsed on me his head buried in the crook of my neck. We both breathe heavily as I hug Matt close. “I swear to god I can’t feel my legs.” I say in between breathes. Matt laughs at my statement and gets up to reach for his clothes and mine. It’s only then I see his back and what I did to him.

“Oh shit, Matt. I fucked up your back.” I say and breathe out a laugh. “Fucked it up? No baby, you made it a piece of artwork.” Matt says as he pulls up his pants and boxers and leans in to kiss my forehead. Matt reaches in the console for a napkin to wipe my legs and his stomach and our sweat.

He reaches over to grab my dress and bra stuffing my panties in his pocket.

“You alright?” Matt asks as he slides on his shirt. “Besides not being able to walk properly, yeah I’m fine.” I say and pull on my dress.

Matt laughs and pulls me close to kiss me.

“So what now?” I ask.

“Let me take you on a date.” Matt replies.

I giggle as Matt pulls me in again and kisses me passionately this time.

“When I first saw you, I always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.” Matt smiles softly.

I smile as well.

“I always felt the same, I guess it was love at first sight.” I chuckle. So does Matt.

The door suddenly opens and we’re met with Nick’s angry and tired face. “What the fuck! There you are! Y/n? What? I’m so confused?!” Nick screams. Chris comes up behind him and sees us.

Chris doesn’t even seemed shocked. “So this is why you were acting weird on the phone?” Chris says blankly as Matt and I burst into laughter.

“I’ll let you to settle this, c’mon Chris.” Nick tugs Chris and they walk away.

“Y’ know I really love you, a lot, right?” Matt says.

I nod. “Yeah, but I love you more.” I smile. Matt smiles and presses his lips to mine. I guess it really was love at first sight.

——————————

a/n: hey guys!!!!!! this is long asf ik. but i hope u guys like it tell me what you think!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo #nic #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #spotify #soundcloud #fanfic

[evilminji]

You know what I would kill to see?

Nedzu, in the Zone.

He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.

Whoops. Four year old with portals.

In a crowd.

Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.

Starts throwing the word "villian" around.

Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.

The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.

He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.

And to think, all he wanted was some tea.

How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.

He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.

The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.

There was no way to catch him in time.

He was already gone.

Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.

In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!

And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"

Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?

All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"

He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.

Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!

Then?? He just... shows back up to work.

How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori

#dp x bnha #dp x mha #minji's writing #nedzus adventure au

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

I heard you were opening requests right? So here’s mine!

https://www.tumblr.com/bluessmutifyplaylist/737214539832213504/separate-yandere-malleus-hubby-rook-hubby

This but with Lilia, Trey and Kalim bc I’m down bad for them-

Again, this is CONSENSUAL, but turns dubious in Lilia's. Longer scenarios because there are fewer characters.

Warnings: Yandere, Fem AFAB!Reader, Stockholm Syndrome(?), naive reader, creampie, breeding(?), unprotected sex, all characters are adults, sex with the intention of having children, mommy kink in Kalim’s, drugging in Lilia’s

Trey Clover

Even though you were two years younger than him, you basically acted as the parents of Heartslabyul. However, he refused to get into an actual relationship with you until you graduated. He may have a fantasy with you in his mind, but he wants to make sure that you actually love him. Turns out, you did, and you stayed loyal to him, writing him letters every week. He was there at your graduation, and he couldn’t help the fact that the question popped out of his mouth upon seeing you so happy to see him again. You gasped, obviously shocked, but you nodded your head as you pulled him into a kiss. 

The wedding ceremony was small, but you were happy to finally be a baker’s wife. Ace and Deuce joked about how nothing changed about the two of you except for the rings because you both were still their honorary mom and dad.What stuck in your mind was them calling you mom. It felt right to you, and you brought this up to Trey, who agreed that maybe a child was in the books for the both of you.

What you didn’t expect was for him to start right then and there. He picked you up and over his shoulder as though you were a sack of flour and carried you to your shared bedroom. He tossed you onto the bed and immediately started tearing your clothes off, but instead of scaring you it made you more aroused. It didn’t take him long to put his mouth to your pussy, eating you like you were a pastry he had made.

He did not let up until you came at least once all over his face, making sure that you were wet enough to take his cock. He took his time entering, making sure that you weren’t in any pain. However, you were once a demon slayer, and taking something as big as Trey’s dick into your pussy was more pleasurable than anything. Once you moaned in pleasure, he started thrusting into you at a steady pace, going faster once it got to be too much to hold still. You were overstimulated from cumming already, but the way he looked at you with pure love in his eyes made you cum again, and he did too, sheathed deeply inside your pussy. That was not the only round that night, though.

Neither of you were surprised that you had received a positive pregnancy test about two months later, as you both were regularly sexually active without protection. However, to announce it to him, you put a bun in the oven at the bakery you both now owned. He picked you up into his arms and twirled you around, but something dark was festering in his mind. You would never be able to leave him now. Nor ever. You were his.

Kalim Al-Asim

He definitely is a delusional yandere, but it doesn’t really go further than that. He would rant to you about his desires for your shared future, forgetting to ask you what you wanted, but it was lucky that you wanted everything he wanted. You wanted to retire from being a demon slayer, and who better to spend your future with than Kalim, who proposed to you on the last day of his senior year? It wasn’t like you could go home. When you accepted, he immediately went to the Land of Scalding Sands to tell his parents, who were very excited.

Your wedding was definitely a very grand event, and your mother-in-law as well as a few sisters-in-law helped you get ready. Jamil was Kalim’s best man, and you promised your friend that he would no longer be the servant and that you wanted him to live his best life. Walking down the aisle, your really-soon-to-be husband was super excited. He had been waiting for this moment, and it was finally happening. He dipped you down into a kiss once you said “I do”, not waiting for the officiant.

That night, your husband didn’t really know what he was doing. He was a virgin, but not for long after that. You took charge, showing him how to finger you and eat your pussy, and when he made you cum for the first time, he was so happy. He was nervous about the actual intercourse, but you gently stroked him a bit before leading his tip to your entrance, getting on top of him, and sinking down. 

The way he moaned ‘mommy’ nearly made you cum again, and so you started praising him, calling him your ‘good boy’ and asking him to make you an actual mommy. While he didn’t last long, he was ready to go again just a few seconds later. This man had endless stamina. You ended up on your back, as you instructed him to place your hips at a higher elevation as he continued to whimper and moan, thrusting desperately into you, cumming over and over again.

When you announce your pregnancy about 3 months later to your in-laws, all of Kalim’s siblings are excited at the prospect of having a niece or nephew, and his parents are excited to be grandparents. You weren’t even showing yet, but you and the baby were already being spoiled. No one wanted you to do anything. Mrs. Asim was there every step of the way, which was super helpful considering she had over 30 kids.

Lilia Vanrouge

Just so I don’t have to justify him getting married to someone younger than Silver, this is before Silver is even in the picture. In the war between fae and humans, you had joined their ranks despite being a human yourself. You didn’t agree with what the humans were doing, and you were stuck here, so you used your demon slayer abilities to fight under General Lilia’s command. To say he fell in love would be an understatement. No, he wanted to forever keep you to himself, and he killed anyone who wished you harm.

Despite merely courting, you gladly accepted your (rather forced) place as Silver’s mother when Lilia found him. This led to you two agreeing that you should be married a year later, and it wasn’t a very big celebration. Actually, it was the Briar Valley equivalent of going to Vegas and getting married for $20 in a drive-thru chapel. Seeing you being so motherly to the baby really woke something up in the former general.

Luckily, Baul volunteered to watch over Silver, as he seemed to do well with his grandson. So, you both quickly rushed home and started shedding clothes between passionate and messy kisses. Being as old as he was, he definitely had experience with pleasuring lovers. However, none was quite as memorable as you, as he quickly learned the signals of your body. That night was wild, as though you had taken aphrodisiacs… and he may or may not have slipped a bit into your tea at the ceremony. 

Your pussy was so warm and wet, and his cock was rock hard. The moan you let out as he thrust his dick into you made his sanity snap. He immediately started pulling out just to shove himself back in, reveling in the heat between your legs, thrusting in again and again. He doesn’t know when the need to breed you came into play, but you had two orgasms by the time he came in you. It didn’t stop him from continuing, as he wasn’t overstimulated just yet.

Anyway, two months later you found out that Silver had a sibling on the way. Again, it didn’t surprise you, but Lilia was very excited about it. His darling wife was pregnant with the product of your love, and he is definitely doting on you. Don’t get me started on when you start showing and your baby bump protrudes and your breasts fill with milk. He will gladly give you massages wherever you need, and you can’t help but be a bit turned on when you see him singing Silver to sleep… leading to a lot of pregnancy sex.

#divider by cafekitsune #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst smut #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #trey #trey x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #twst trey #twst trey x reader #twst trey clover #twst trey clover x reader #kalim al asim #kalim #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim x reader #twst kalim al asim #twst kalim al asim x reader #lilia #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

[storiesforthemoonchild]

I Think I Like You | Alessia Russo x Reader

based on this request. friends to lovers vibe... Enjoy :)

“Where’s (y/n)?” Alessia asks the moment she reaches her family after the match. Her eyes had been searching for yours the whole match. 

“Well hello to you, too darling,” her mother Carol jokes. 

Alessia blushes, wrapping her mother and father in a hug, “sorry. Hi mum, dad. You alright yeah?”

“You played well, 2 goals,” her father Mario praises excitedly.  

“Thanks… so (y/n)?” She questions again looking between her parents and brothers. 

“She wasn’t feeling the greatest when we arrived to pick her up today hun. I made her stay home,” Carol informs. 

The panic quickly rises on Alessia’s face. You never missed her games. The two of you had been inseparable ever since you met back in uni over in the states. Finding comfort in one another since you were both English. You’d followed her back to England after graduation, but refused to admit she was the reason why. Instead you just said there were more job opportunities for you out here. 

“Would you look at that? Guess who’s ringing me,” her brother Gio teases, holding the phone in Alessia’s face before pulling it out of her reach. 

“Knock it off Gio. Something could be wrong with her. Give it here,” the striker fusses, ready to tackle him for the phone. 

“Cut it out Gio,” Carol swats at the boy's arm. 

With a playful roll of the eyes he lets Alessia grab the phone. The striker frantically pressed at the accept call button. “(Y/n), you alright?”

“Lessi, you played amazing! Of course you wait until I’m not there to score 2 bangers,” you say through the phone. 

Alessia relaxes, a calm smile gracing her face at the fact you don’t sound too bad, “how you feeling bug? Mum said you weren’t feeling well.”

You huff, “I’m fine. She was being too cautious. I’m sorry I missed your game Lessi.”

She can just hear the pout on your face, “don’t worry about that. Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it with me.”

You always melted at the way Alessia took care of you when you were sick or even just having a bad day. You couldn’t help but feed into how she tends to you, “can we have ice cream and cuddle?”

Alessia swooning over the cute tone of your voice, “of course bug, anything you want. I’ll grab some food and medicine too. Just give me a bit to finish up here and go to the store okay?” 

“Lessi?”

“Yes?”

You smirk even though she can’t see it, “2 goals on the day I can’t be there, really?”

She laughs, turning her back and lowering her voice in an attempt to not be heard, “they were both for you. Did you see me kiss the pinky?” 

That was your thing, ever since uni. A pinky promise was sacred between the two of you. “I did. Super cute. Nice that you finally have a unique celly,” you joke.  

“I’ll see you soon,” Alessia releases a breath as the call disconnects. Turning around she’s met with two curious gazes and two teasing ones. 

“Is your wife alive and well?” Of course it's Gio who starts.  

Alessia ignores him handing the phone back over. “When are you just going to go for it Less? She is practically a wag already,” it was Luca’s turn to get in on it now. 

“We’re just friends,” Alessia grumbles face turning beet red. 

“Yeah, a friend who you dedicate goals and goal celebrations to.”

Carol pulls her into her arms allowing Alessia to bury her face in her neck, “you two cut it out now. How is she doing sweetheart? Does she need anything?”

“She just wants ice cream and cuddles, the usual,” she mumbles. 

“Glad my daughter in law is fine,” Mario chimes in much to the amusement of his sons. 

A groan escapes Alessia as she pulls away, “I’m going to change and head out, so I can get to (y/n).”

“Good idea. Don’t keep the wife waiting,” Gio as always had to get the last word. 

It’s a few hours later that there’s a knock at your door. Wrapped snug in a blanket you answer, knowing it was your favorite blonde striker. “Took you long enough. I’m freezing. Put all that down, I need your body heat.”

“No hi? Just immediately barking out orders today huh?” Alessia sucks her teeth jokingly. 

“Sorry, hi Lessi,” you wait until she’s dropped the bags on the counter before pulling her into a hug. 

“How you feeling?” She places a hand to your forehead and then neck. 

You shake out of her protective grip, “I’m fine Lessi. Please come cuddle.”

She nods, putting the ice cream in the freezer and leaving the rest for later. You are standing by the couch when she enters, “assume the position.”

Alessia lays across the couch, opening her arms wide for you to lay on top of her. A strong grip around your waist as you flop down, encasing you both under the blanket. Burying your face into her neck as she soothingly strokes your back. This was your peace. 

You giggle when you feel the racing heart of Alessia beneath you, “running a marathon are you?” When you get no response and her hand stills you pull away so you can see her face. “What’s wrong Less?”

“Nothing sorry,” she says, trying to pull you back down. 

You fully sit up resting yourself in her lap as she lays there. “Liar. Did something happen after the game? Are you thinking about the sitter that could’ve got you a hat-trick star girl,” you tease trying to lighten her mood. 

“I hate that nickname,” she whines. 

“Talk to me.”

Alessia grabs at you pulling you back down. “Gio and Luca were winding me up over our call. Now I’m in my head.” 

You get yourself back comfortable with your head against her chest, “why do you let them get to you Lessi?”

You feel her sigh. You’ve known Alessia long enough to know that when she’s in her head it’s best to let her work it out alone. The striker was an over-thinker. Silence was never uncomfortable between the two of you. 

“I think I like like you (y/n),” Alessia murmurs. 

You’re stunned. You’ve known Alessia for years now and had long given up on the thought that she may feel the same. You knew from the moment you met her, but all the girl thought about was football. 

“I know it’s out of the blue and we are just friends but not having you in the stands today I felt like a piece of me was missing. Then Gio and Luca were going on about how you were already a wag and I-… I know that I like you. I just… we are best friends. Please don’t hate me.”

You don’t move from your spot on her chest, “I like you too Alessia.”

“You do?”

You nod against her, “I do. I was just waiting for you to like something other than football.”

The moment is exactly how you’d imagine something like this going with Alessia. No pressure. Everything was calm, no need for any theatrics. Just the two of you, whispering secrets to each other like you did all those years before in uni. 

“Do you want ice cream?” She asks. 

“In a minute, let’s just stay like this a while longer.”

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo imagine

[subastian-swallows]

Sebastian Sallow x You

Comfort Zone ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Thoughts Full, Head Empty 

Sebastian Sallow, Seventh-Year, Slytherin:

Overworked, overstressed and way too much tension 

Joined the Slytherin Quidditch team, main reason? Heard you talking about your interest in the sport. Wants to be the reason you care for it.

Beater, likes showing off his strength - mainly due to your comments about arms, doesn’t really get it, until he does.

First game Slytherin wins, Sebastian flys to the stadium in search of you, questions you on how he did, gives you his Quidditch team shirt

Over-tired, practise takes a lot out of him, mentions having trouble sleeping again - subtle hint for you to help out

Cuddles only, begrudgingly, ends up on you - you don’t mind, it’s more comforting than it sounds

Nightmares - crying, Sebastian feels embarrassed and yet you hold him until he stops fighting you 

Kisses - soft, innocent, desperate, pleading

Until they are more - heated, intense, longing 

Sebastian finds you - regardless of you slinking off to be away from the crowds, Sebastian always asks if he can stay and you always say yes

Subtle hints of a future - would you like children? Where do you see yourself settling down? Feldcroft is nice 

Sex is always intimate with Sebastian - even the steamy, please-fuck-me-after-Quidditch moments, but he always makes sure you are satisfied before himself 

Jealous!Sebastian - hates seeing you smile around other boys, except Ominis 

Lap sitting - Sebastian always needs you in his lap, for example: Picnics with your friends, you must be in his lap as you giggle along with the others

Gifts - Mother’s ring, a promise for a future 

“Run away with me?”

Graduation hits and Sebastian can only think about you - it’s late, drinks are flowing, the crowd is cheering and he steals you away

Last fleeting moments in the darkened halls of Hogwarts, filled with far too many memories and Sebastian just needs to hold you

“Thank you for coming into my life” 

I don’t know what this is but take it,, and appreciate Boyfriend!Sebastian  

#sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x y/n #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts

[yaksha-lover]

The ringing of metal cutlery clashing against glass plates is the only sound that fills the great hall. It echoes, far beyond where it should. The high ceilings and wide walls make sure of it.

Malleus has never felt at a loss of words before. It’s strange for him, let alone with his grandmother. The questions - they’re stuck in his throat. Like his own body is protecting him from the answers.

His grandmother is quiet too. The two of them have never been garrulous fae, but it’s never been awkward before. He’s never felt afraid to speak his mind.

She usually indulges him. She always has: chatter of gargoyles and grotesques when he first found the encyclopedia in the castle library. All the nonsense he’d spouted off about when he had no one else to talk to. She’d smile and listen, much better than most.

The table is too long. He’ll have to speak up, so she’ll hear. At her age, her hearing is only about as a good as the average human’s. If he mumbles or trips over his words, it’ll all be lost in the distance between them.

The table is meant for many, but the chairs have all been cleared away. The two of them sit at the heads of the table; the only place for the current and future rulers.

A servant comes to take away their finished plates, leaving the table empty, except for the black and silver cloth that stretches the length of the hardwood. The Draconia sigil is embroidered in gold at each corner.

“Do you have much on your mind, grandmother?”

She smiles gently. “Not at all. I’m just tired from the diplomacy. I’m sure you’ve realized by now how exhausting it all can be. Enjoy this time, before your responsibilities chain you,” she laughs.

Malleus frowns. “What did you think of Yuu?”

She responds casually, but a moment too late for there not to be awkwardness: “They were very nice.”

“And?”

“And what, dear?” she replies, pausing for a moment to sip the last bit of red liquid swirling in her wine glass.

“Are you not…upset? I know you have plans for me, that you intend to wed me to some high-born, but grandmother-”

“Not for another two hundred years,” she interrupts. “You’ll be older, there will be time for you to settle into governance.”

He’s stunned into silence for a few seconds. “Why does it…”

“Have your fun, my dear. I understand young love. I was once coming into adulthood too.”

“Yuu isn’t ’fun,’” Malleus stares down at the gold sigil. “Grandmother, I love them.”

“I know, Malleus.”

“Then why? Why are you fine with our relationship?”

“Because I know it will resolve itself before you’ll have to attend to your duties.”

“Resolve? We will not break up over some simple lover’s quarrel, I assure you.”

“Oh, Malleus. I’m sorry, but Yuu is human. They’ll be with you but a tiny fraction of your life. I have no doubt in your love, but this is reality. Things will come to their natural conclusion.”

“Then I want to marry them. As soon as possible.”

His grandmother stands from the table. “Let’s not be rash. I understand how you feel, but a royal wedding is too big an event for it to happen in another hundred years once your beloved has passed.”

“It won’t happen again. I will never be in love, unless it should be with Yuu. I will never marry again or have a family with anyone else. The Draconias will end with me.”

She sighs. “Malleus…I know in time you’ll see, I only have your best interests at heart.”

“Yuu does not have time. You promised, once I graduated I could have anything I wish as a gift. I want Yuu. Let me wed them.”

“Is it the crown you want, or them?”

“I’ve made it clear what choice I will make, if it comes to it.”

He feels a tinge of grief in his heart when his grandmother’s face saddens.

“I see. Malleus…sometimes when I look at you, it’s as though I’m seeing your mother again. I do not wish to lose you. Not as I have her,” she pauses. “Please, bring Yuu to the castle tomorrow. I wish for us all to talk.”

“Of course, grandmother. Thank you.”

She smiles at him weakly.

-

Quick note: This is just an idea I had (that I don’t really believe would be Malleus’ grandmother’s canon attitude) but I thought would be fun and angsty to explore. Malleus introducing his beloved to the last family member he has left, and his grandmother being apathetic, not out of malevolence but because she knows where this is going.

She’s seen humans die in practically the blink of an eye, so it would be hard for her to encourage Malleus to become seriously devoted to this relationship, knowing how he’ll get hurt. This isn’t really about any kind of political marriage that she wishes to make for him, more about feeling sadness for his loss to come, and knowing that he won’t get a happy ending with Yuu how he wishes. I imagine in this drabble that she may have had her own ‘young love’ experience with a human (or maybe just friendships) that have made her more apathetic to the lives and deaths of humans, as a sort of coping mechanism to deal with the grief and pain of losing and living without someone for the hundreds of years she’s lived.

#twst x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleyuu #malleus x yuu #malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland #k.concepts

[wongyuuu]

strange love | csc/kmg

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader x mingyu genre: angst, fluff word count: 3.1k summary: years after your divorce, you meet your ex and he wants to pick up where you left off warnings: cheating, cursing

requested by @thepoopdokyeomtouched

“You regret it?”

Out of all the things you could have heard, of all the people you thought that you could see, the man standing in front of you was the last of them.

It had been years since you last Seungcheol, talked with him, or even heard his voice. You had managed to eliminate him from your mind completely as if he were some kind of plague. You really thought that you’d never see him again, especially after everything that happened. But most of all, not after you moved away to a city that hated more than life and promised to never, ever, set foot again. 

“You don’t know how much” he took a step towards you, hands stretched trying to hold yours “I don’t know why I did that… My mom, she …”

Looking anywhere was better than looking at Seungcheol, at him trying to shift the blame to someone else. The truth was that your marriage had never been easy — your entire relationship for that matter. 

Seungcheol’s mother never liked you. Hate was, probably, the most accurate word for how she felt about you. You were together for eight years, almost nine, and during those years she made sure that you were aware of her distaste for you. She would mention how improper you were on every possible occasion. From the way you dressed to the way you talked, to your major, to your job. Nothing you ever did was good enough for her.

In the early years of your relationship, she kept most of her comments to herself. And when she did say anything, Seungcheol was quick to apologize on her behalf and shut her down. Then, when she realized that your relationship didn’t end once you graduated from college, her words became harsher. 

Even then, you pushed through. Seungcheol seemed to be just as bothered as you and you were with him, not her. 

Despite her attempts against your relationship, there was no denial of the fact that you were in love and until that moment you never thought that anyone would ever understand you quite like Seungcheol did. It was like you complimented each other. Of course, like any other couple, you fought. But most of those fights were never about his mom and you’d make up quickly

Life was easy and good. You had the job you wanted, shared your life with the man you loved. 

So, when Seungcheol proposed, you said yes. It was the easiest answer you had ever given. His mother was no longer a concern to you and innocently you thought that she would finally see that you were serious about Seuncheol. You hoped that she would see your love for her son. Because to you, that was what every mother wanted, for their kid to be in a good relationship, with someone they loved and who loved them. That was what your mother wanted for you. 

And, sure, maybe that was something Seungcheol’s mother wanted too, she just didn’t want you in his life. 

Even so, you got married. Moved in together. The first year had been great, the kind of stuff dreams are made of. Paradise. Then your first anniversary rolled around and that perfect little bubble burst. Just like that. What was once perfect became none existent. 

Seungcheol started to get home later and later, his replies to your texts were monosyllabic at best — most days he didn’t even reply. You gave up on phone calls because he’d either ignore them or he’d turn off his phone. It didn’t take long for you to notice that he started to reject your kisses, your touch. 

Fights became intense, almost a screaming contest. You’d scream because he was never around anymore and he would scream because you were too demanding. 

“I'm just fucking busy, okay? Work is driving me insane. And now I have you hoovering around me like I’m sort of child. I thought my mom was the only crazy bitch around. I guess I was wrong.”

Nothing anyone had ever said to you hurt so much. His mother’s words? Nothing, not even a scratch compared to his. But having the man you loved, the one you promised to love through sickness and health, till death did you part, say those things? Call you a crazy bitch and because of what? Because you were worried about him? Someone should punish you for wanting to spend time with your husband. 

“Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol,” was all you had managed to get out. 

There was nothing else you could say. You heart dropped to your feet, the space where your stomach was supposed to be felt hollow. The entire world was spinning. So you did the only thing you could think of, locking yourself in the bathroom and crying under the shower. After some time, you didn’t know what was just water and what were your tears.

By the time you got out, Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. 

That was the moment you knew your marriage was over, there was nothing to save anymore. 

Seungcheol didn’t come home for days after that. You didn’t know where he was, if he was okay. So you did the one thing you feared the most, you called your mother-in-law. Much to your surprise, she invited you for lunch. Truthfully, you didn't want to go but it was the only way to know anything about your husband. She had refused to give you any information at all unless you met her. 

Everything inside of you, every cell in your body told you not to go. There’s no way the lunch wouldn’t end in your heart breaking even more. The million pieces of your heart would shatter yet again. 

Maybe you had known the entire time and just forced yourself to pretend that it didn't exist. Seeing Seungcheol walk into the restaurant, hand in hand with a woman who wasn't you, the brightest smile on his lips, made the entire world suddenly fall into silence.

You felt stuck in place, your eyes refused to look at anything else that wasn't him. Not in the way it did when you first started to date, when you were so enamored by him that other men just paled in comparison, but out of poor morbid curiosity. You needed to see just how far he'd take it.

The buzzing in your ears started when he sat by her side, his whole attention focused on her. She talked excitedly about something and Seungcheol looked at her like he was in love. Like he used to look at you. He pushed her hair back from her shoulder and you noticed that his wedding ring was nowhere to be seen.

The woman seemed to be the perfect representation of what his mother wanted. And her smile, watching you crumble, was all the confirmation you needed.

"Thank you for bringing me here today," you told her. Her smile faltered a little when you got up and left. She probably expected a scene, maybe she hoped to see you screaming at them. That would imply a fight and you just didn't have it in you anymore. 

You were the only one fighting for that marriage for almost a year. Seungcheol didn't care, of course, especially considering how he had taken that woman to your favorite restaurant on your second anniversary. 

By 9 pm, on that day, you were out of the apartment. You took almost nothing with you, just enough clothes, documents you would need, and memories of your childhood. You didn't want to keep anything that could be a reminder of Seungcheol. If it was so easy for him to throw away a nine-year relationship down the drain, then it would be for you too.

I'll send you the divorce papers soon, was what you wrote for him on a note. The only thing you had left for him, alongside your wedding ring.

"Don't blame your mother for your actions, Seungcheol. No one made you go to that restaurant, no one made you cheat on me. That was all you. Your mother, believe it or not, was kind enough to show me the truth"

Seungcheol thought that he'd never see you again. You had managed to completely leave his life, not a trace of you to be found. 

The house was still filled with you, your clothes, the decorations you bought over the years — things you had shown him excitedly and he had never paid much attention to — the dishes from breakfast, your wedding pictures still on display — the only one missing was of you, as a kid with your parents. He realized then that you only took things that were yours before him, things that had nothing to do with him.

No one wanted to tell him where you were, your note didn't say anything about where you went. The hospital you worked at simply told him that you resigned and refused to tell him anything else.

The divorce papers were handed to him, by your lawyer, precisely three weeks after your anniversary, after you left. Your friend stood in front of him, Joshua's face the most professional and serious he'd ever seen. The man who usually had kind eyes and a bright smile, looked at him as if he was just any other stranger.

"Joshua, I'm not singing these" he dropped the small stack of papers onto his desk "I want to speak with my wife and I'm sure you talk to her daily. So if you could just tell me where she is, I'd be really thankful. We also need to discuss how we will divide our possessions"

Joshua took a deep breath, finally looking at him for more than three seconds.

"Mr. Choi, my client doesn't want to see you or talk with you. There's nothing to divide as she doesn't want anything, as it is written in the divorce agreement. If you wish to take this to court you will just be spending money needlessly and wasting our time, as, like I said before, my client doesn't want anything. She just wants to be free of your relationship"

It was the first time in five years Seungcheol was seeing you. He tried to look for you everywhere he could possibly think about. He went to all the other hospitals in town, every single one of them, looking for you. He always gave different names to make sure that you wouldn’t refuse to see him. All of them were a dead end. 

No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t forget your last words to him fuck you, Choi Seungcheol, the look in your eyes of complete hurt. How he knew his words would make you cry and that’s why he said them. But you refused to let your tears fall in front of him. He had heard you in the shower. The sound had been too much, too annoying, so he left. 

At that point, he had already cheated on you more than once. He had let his mother get too much into his head. The stress of work mixed with his mother's constant nagging made him do things that he wouldn’t normally do. It was only much later that he realized that his stress didn’t come from you. If anything, you were the one who always helped feel normal, more like himself. 

After years of no contact, even social media updates from your friends or family didn’t include you, he finally saw you again. In a different town, a phone was pressed to your ear as you talked with someone. And you were even more beautiful than remembered. Your hair was shorter than before, something you always said you wanted to do but never went through with because Seungcheol liked your hair long. You were wearing jeans and a t-shirt, also something you never wore after college because of this mother, women don’t dress like teenagers, she used to say. Your smile was also beautiful, and free. Seungcheol couldn’t remember the last time you smiled at him.

“I know, it was all me. But I was wrong, yn, so terribly wrong” he tried to hold your hands again but you took another step back, away from him “I want to try again. I love you so much, so much. I can make you happy again, I know I can”

You laughed. Because what else were you supposed to do? Five years later nothing at all had changed with Seungcheol. He still thought that he could just come around and you’d be waiting for him.

Waiting for him to choose you. 

He never did though. You came to realize that, after you moved away, and really started to think about your relationship, from the day you started to date to the day your marriage ended you were never his priority. For many years you thought that Seungcheol had your back, that it was you and him against the world. But, in all honesty, it was just you against his world and the rules he lived by. He never told his mother to just stop the harassment, he would just appease her for a while and stay quiet when she tried to change you. He never said anything when you changed your entire being to try to fit into what she wanted. 

You were to blame too but in your mind those changes were just something you had to do to with the the man you loved. 

“Hi, baby” you felt lips press against your hair and the bags you were carrying being taken away from your hands “Did you wait for a long time?”

Finally, you pulled your eyes away from Seungcheol and looked up, to Mingyu. Up until that moment, your heart was beating like crazy inside your chest but at the sight of Mingyu, everything seemed to calm down.

A year after moving, you met Mingyu. He was the owner of a small restaurant close to the hospital you worked at. Joshua was the one to find the place when he went to visit you  You were one of his first clients and then probably the most assiduous one. You went there almost every friday for lunch, ordering something different every time because if the steak was that good, everything else has to be good too. 

After a few months, he was the one who brought out the food for you. You were yet to order but he placed a plate in front of you, the most delicious smell intoxicating all of your senses. 

“I haven’t ordered anything yet,” you said, confused, looking up at him. 

Mingyu was probably the most handsome man you had ever encountered in your life and that was saying a lot. His eyes were spectant as he talked with you, he hid his hand inside the pocket of his apron.

“I know but you come here every week and you seem to enjoy the food. Since I’m trying a new dish, I thought that you would like to try it”

Your lips formed a smile, the biggest one you had given someone in a very long time. 

“Thank you.  I’m sure it’s fantastic, especially if it tastes as amazing as it smells”

A few weeks after that, after a lot of flirting, Mingyu asked you on a date. A dinner after hours at the restaurant. You’re a busy woman, so I’ll take whichever moments you're willing to give me. 

Saying yes had been hard. Though you were no longer in love with Seungcheol, a part of you was still hurt by the end of your marriage. You were thirty, divorced, only one relationship in your entire life. You felt like you didn’t have anything to give. And then Mingyu happened. 

He made you forget everything about your past, about your lack of experience.  When you told him that you were divorced, you sort of expected a change in the way he saw you. But that didn’t happen. He simply asked how it ended, and you gave him a very brief explanation — he cheated — and the conversation moved forward as if he had asked you what you did the day before. 

The first date led to a second one, then a third, and soon you were dating. There was no official question or big gesture. Both of you just fell into this sort of routine. Some of your clothes were on his place, some of his on yours. A year and a half into the relationship you moved in together. You figured, since the two of you always spent the night together, either at his place or yours, living together would just be easier.

You were happy.

After you told him everything that had happened in your relationship with Seungcheol, from his mother to the cheating, Mingyu held your face in his hands. All of his emotions were in his eyes, the anger he felt for what had happened to you, for the hurt he heard in your voice whenever you spoke of your marriage, to the love he felt for you.

“I can’t promise that I won’t do anything that will hurt. If I could, I would do it right now. I know I will make mistakes and some of those will hurt you. But I will do everything in my power to not hurt you, to love you like you deserve to be loved”

His thumb wiped your tears away, and a second later you felt his lips over each of your eyes. His touch was ever so tender. Despite his hands being only on your face, you felt Mingyu everywhere.

“Where did you come from?” you had asked in a whisper.

“I was right here, just waiting for you”

Life with Mingyu, you came to understand, was very simple. Late-night talks, walks on the beach on sunny afternoons, meals you ate together, and undying laughter. Just a life completely filled with love. 

“Who’s this?” Mingyu asked. 

He didn’t like the way your back was stiff, how tense you looked. He had never seen a picture of your ex-husband, you didn’t have one and although he was curious about the man who was stupid enough to let you go, he didn’t care enough to look for his face online. Based on your reaction alone, Mingyu already knew who he was before you even said his name. 

“Seungcheol”

Mingyu looked at the man who broke your heart. There wasn’t anything special to see. The only thing Mingyu did to acknowledge him was a short nod and a distaste hum.

“Come one, let’s go home” he tugged on your hand, walking past Seungcheol.

Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling your body against his and kissing your hair once again. You wrapped your arm around his waist and squeezed him, a silent thank you, but also a silent i love you. He kissed your hair a third time.

Not once did you look back, to see if Seungcheol was still standing there. 

Seungcheol was your past. But Mingyu was your present and your future.

taglist: @wonwooz1, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @ho34gojo, @feat-sun, @wonvsmile, @belladaises, @mhlsymlysn, @swinterr

if you want to be tagged in my next fics, please fill out this form

#k-labels #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups x you #scoups #seventeen angst #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #s.coups #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #kim mingyu x you #mingyu #seventeen fluff #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu #mingyu fluff

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #au #series #daddy lessons #backwoods au #obx #the outer banks

[matchavellichor]

All My Riches for Her Smiles

Ominis Gaunt x f!pureblood!MC - NSFW/Angst - 4.7k words - ao3

Tags: Ancient Pureblood Bonding Rituals, Post-Graduation, Arranged Married, Loss of Virginity, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Post-Coital L-Bombs, "Un"requited Love

Summary: Forced into an arranged marriage for the benefit of their pureblood families, Ominis struggles to make his closest friend-turned-wife feel less like a prisoner.

For as long as she could remember, there had always been a special sort of familiarity between her and Ominis. A comfortableness that only came from some morbid form of trauma-bonding, a shared understanding of just how horrible their respective pureblood families were. 

Plights and sorrows shared under the blanket of moonlight with their feet dangling off the edge of the Astronomy tower. Laughs drenched in the smoke of shared Muggle cigars after they’d snuck off to some secluded terrace together during another ridiculous high-society event. A passive form of rebellion. They’d confide in each other about every expectation placed upon their shoulders, the weight suffocating at times.

He knew her inside out, just as she knew him. Knew her dreams and aspirations. Listened to her rave on and on about how after graduation she’d gladly leave it all behind, run off to pursue being an Auror, regardless of if she was disinherited and left without a sickle to her name. He’d just laugh and make her promise she’d take him with her. 

Even if they were just tall tales, words without real action behind them, he’d never admired anyone more than he admired her. Just how much braver she was than him, a vivid fire inside of her that hardly ever even flickered. He never had the courage to do half of the things she did. Never had nearly as much fight inside of him that she had, always falling quiet and obedient at the hands of his family.

Despite all of their years of friendship, it felt as if a complete stranger led her through the morose, darkened halls of the Gaunt Manor. A vaguely recognizable figure with lean, broad shoulders and neat, blonde hair.

Ever since the bonding ceremony, the both of them had hardly spoken a word. Exchanged less than meaningful glances, faces schooled into careful stoicism throughout the entire ordeal. There was an almost unbearable ache in his chest at just how hollow she sounded reciting her vows, that everlasting fire inside of her seemingly snuffed out. He felt he could be sick with remorse.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as soon as he closed the door to their now-shared chambers. He stood frozen near the door as he thought of a way to make any of this even remotely right. He could offer her empty platitudes, express his apologies, but he knew none of it would do any good. Nothing could change what had already been done, what the both of them had been subjected to. 

Whatever he was feeling, he knew her enough to know she was feeling indescribably worse. 

Trapped. Suffocated. Her hopes and dreams following graduation cruelly stolen from her, replaced instead by a future her parents had carved out for her. A wife, a mother. Quiet, submissive, and obedient. A mere possession for some powerful pureblood scion.

It was a role he could never envision her in. His headstrong and steadfast best friend, who’d drag him on every single one of her thrill-seeking adventures. Who’d fight acromantulas and poachers all day and still make it in time for dinner at the Great Hall.

He wanted to reach out, comfort her the way he had done for years when things with her family had gotten especially difficult, but considering the circumstances, he felt he had no right to even touch her.

Instead, he wrung his hands together and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

The first genuine words he’d spoken to her throughout the entire procession of the wedding ceremony, that had stretched for several, long days. She glanced up from where she had been staring at the carpet.

“Why are you apologizing?”

His mouth set into a rigid line. “Because I never wanted this to happen to you.”

“Well, it’s happened.” She said bitterly. “Not much use in wanting anything, is there?”

A pit of guilt carved itself into his chest. He repeated himself, regardless of the lack of good that it would do. “I’m so sorry.”

She made her way over to the ornate vanity situated on the adjacent wall and began undoing the intricate chignon her hair had been styled in for the wedding, pulling out pins and pearl-crusted hairpieces. Her voice was quiet, tired. 

“This isn’t your doing, Ominis.”

His guilt burrowed itself even deeper into his chest, sinking into his heart like the dull blade of a knife. 

She stared down at her perfectly manicured nails on the mahogany surface, such a stark contrast to the haphazard, chipped manner they were normally kept in, a byproduct of her unladylike hobbies —as her mother referred to it.

“If it weren’t you, it would’ve been someone else. I never would’ve escaped this fate.” 

His mind stumbled over a million possibilities of how to rectify this, of how to make his new bride not feel like such a prisoner, not feel even more trapped than she’s felt her entire life. He felt just as trapped in his inability to correct this, bound and gagged by his own powerlessness. He took a fortifying breath. 

“I’ll make this work. I’ll find a way to send you to Auror training and– and we can—”

“We both know that’s not happening.” She interrupted. “My job is to be nothing more than arm candy at high-society events and produce your next heirs.”

His heart ached at just how easily she seemed to have given up. Her fate sealed. He was willing to do anything to make her happy, but deep down he knew the only way to do so would be the dissolution of their marriage, something that was out of his hands. He couldn’t give her the freedom she craved.

Some selfish part of him hoped that one day she’d learn to accept his devotion. That she could learn to love him the same way he loved her. He knew it was a sick thing to wish for out of something born of coercion, but he was desperate for it.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make this as easy as possible for you. I swear it. Anything — whatever you desire, it’s yours. Just say the word.”

The corners of her lips twitched, pulled into a rueful smile, her fingers twisting the Gaunt heirloom ring around her finger. “Not everything can be fixed with money. Some things are simply out of your control, Ominis.”

Deep down he knew she wasn’t the kind of woman to be acquiesced with riches and luxuries, even if he was more than willing to give her every last sickle. What he didn’t tell her was that he was prepared to give himself to her just as wholly, devote mind, body, and soul to making her happy. It wouldn’t change anything.

He felt just as hopeless as she did. 

Forced to witness the woman he loved become a prisoner in his own home, knowing he was the very lock and key that restrained her. He couldn’t bear the thought of one day being the object of her resentment. Of her slowly growing to despise him.

She broke him out of his dismal worrying by rising from her seat and walking over to where he was still planted near the door, turning her back to him. “Will you help me with my dress?” 

“Oh,” He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

His fingers reached out to feel for the laces of her corset, running tentatively down the length of her spine. He pulled softly at the ties and they unraveled easily in his hands, one-by-one, trailing down her back. 

He seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, and took a sharp inhale when she finally stepped away after the last of the laces had been undone. He heard the ruffling of fabric as she divested herself of her gown and suddenly he was acutely aware of the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

They both knew what they were expected to do now. What they had to do to finalize the bonding ritual, a consummation of their eternal union. Neither spoke a word. 

She moved silently to the lush, king-sized bed poised in the center of the room, decked in creamy jacquard linens and comforters. He followed just as quietly and sat beside her, hands clasped nervously in his lap.

Of all the times he’d fantasized about a moment like this with her, this one was a horribly twisted act of fate. A morbid joke being played on him by some higher power with an awfully sick sense of humor. He felt nauseous at the thought of what he’d have to do to her, what she’d probably resent him for. 

He flinched when he felt her reach over to squeeze his hand in his lap, her fingers warm over his. Her tone was sympathetic, reassuring. “It’s alright.”

He cleared his throat and tried to ignore the anxiety coursing through him, the unsteadiness in his voice. “I won’t kiss you.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Or touch you anywhere, or–”

She breathed a huff of amusement. “I think you might have to touch me, Ominis.”

“Right, I– I just meant—”

“I know.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity. He heard the sound of the comforter underneath her ruffling as she shifted to face him more comfortably. 

“Should I lie back?”

He nodded. “Please.”

She laid her head back against a mound of pillows, soft and faintly-smelling of vanilla. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the circumstances were different. 

That the bedding underneath her was just a bit scratchy and a vivid emerald green. That they weren’t in the Manor, but tucked away behind the curtains of her old four-poster at Hogwarts, like the world outside didn’t exist.

That this wasn’t something forced on them, but something soft and kind and tender, born of confessions of true love and not forced matrimony. 

That when she opened her eyes, Ominis wouldn’t look faintly horrified and sickly pale, but instead she’d be able to see the soft creases in his eyes that only appeared when he smiled.

She couldn’t bear to look at him as he began on the buttons of his outer robes, divesting layer by layer with a practiced slowness. When he was stripped down to his undershirt and briefs, he grabbed his outerrobes to rummage through the pockets in search of his wand. 

She finally picked her head up to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, er— lubrication charm.” He reddened as he said the words.

“Put your wand away, Ominis.” She sighed and took hold of his hand, urging him to drop the garment and make his way over to her. 

Her entire life had been stolen from her by her family, she refused to have them steal this from her too. Her first time wouldn’t be something cold and rigid and unfeeling, with lubrication charms and calming draughts to ease her through it. She wanted to at least have this. To at least share something pleasant, something genuine, even if his only love for her was platonic.

He let her guide him to kneel beside her on the bed, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, an oddly grounding gesture. She parted her legs slightly and he felt the skin of her bare thighs brush against his. 

“Here, just—” He gasped when she brought his hand down to make contact with her clothed center, strikingly warm under his fingertips. “You can touch me, Ominis.”

He froze, his fingers unmoving. She half-expected him to pull back. His voice was quiet, nervous. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “It’s alright.”

He swallowed hard and gently, tentatively, ran his fingers over the heat of her with feather-light touches. He had always been so careful with her, and she should have expected he’d be just as tender now.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, just like that,” She sighed in content. “A bit more, maybe.”

He noticed her voice had developed a slightly breathier quality, her breathing having grown heavy. The sound coursed through him, lighting every last one of his nerves on fire, and leaving him with the desire to coax even more soft noises out of her.

He applied a bit more pressure, his strokes becoming more focused, swirling tenderly against the little nub he could feel through the gusset of her knickers.

The softest moan escaped her parted lips and he couldn’t help himself. He leaned closer to her, one of his hands coming to part her thighs wider for him, the other continuing to rub tight, focused little circles. 

Her breathing hitched at the change of pace and her hand came up to brace herself on his forearm that was parting her legs, her nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his wrist as her head fell back against the pillow. He had quickly grown achingly hard in his trousers.

Before long, he could feel wetness seeping through to his fingers, dampening her knickers and clinging the fabric to her cunt. He cursed under his breath at the sensation and resisted the urge to climb down her body to tongue at the slickness, the same way he’d fantasized about doing for the longest time.

Even though the original aim of touching her had already been accomplished, he found he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He continued to hold her thighs parted for him, to rub at her in a desperate quest to hear her come apart at his fingers, to pull more pretty noises past her lips.

He could feel her tense underneath him, her hips instinctively coming up to grind against his hand, desperate for more friction. Shamelessly, he brought his own hand to palm at the almost painful ache that had grown in his trousers, rubbing himself through the fabric while he continued to swirl his fingers around her dripping cunt.

She let out a strangled gasp and then she was pushing at his hand between her thighs, a frantic pleading. “S-stop, stop, stop, please—”

His hand shot back like he’d been burnt as soon as he heard the word. His eyes widened, guilt washing over him immediately, that maybe she hadn’t wanted it, that maybe he had hurt her. “I’m — I’m so sorry.”

She took a moment to catch her breath, panting as she tried to compose herself, having been brought so close to the edge with just his fingertips. “It’s…It’s alright.” When she sat up to look at him, his face was pale, blanched with remorse. “I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

She reached over to give his hand another reassuring squeeze, her voice quiet and faintly tinged with embarrassment. “I…enjoyed it.”

“Oh.” There were soft splotches of pink painting his pale skin, peeking out from the white linen of his undershirt, his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed a bright red. 

She couldn’t help but find it a bit endearing. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Right.” She watched the lines of his throat bob as he swallowed down his anxiety, wiping his hands nervously on the front of his trousers.

It was a bit too dim in the faint glow of candlelight that was bathing the room, but she glanced down to his lower body and tried to make out if maybe he’d like her to return the favor. 

“Do you need…help?”

His cock throbbed in his briefs, a sticky bead of precum bleeding a damp spot through the front. He shook his head sheepishly.

Slowly, he made his way closer to her, settling himself in between her legs. He placed his hands on either side of her on the pillow, hovering over her for a moment as he tried to compose himself as best as he could. 

Finally, he tentatively brought his hands down, skimming faintly over the chemise covering her torso, and down below it to rest at her hips. His fingers paused at the hem of her knickers, an index hooked on each side. 

“May I?”

She nodded. “Please.”

He pulled the fabric down her legs, and she felt her cheeks warm as she realized just how wet he had gotten her, a glistening string of slick painting the inside of her thighs. 

She brought her hands to the waistband of his briefs. “Would you like me to—”

“No.” He pulled her hands away immediately, mortified at how she would react if she realized just how much he wanted her. “It’s…it’s alright, I can do it myself.”

She nodded and tried to not let her curiosity get the best of her, keeping her eyes trained on his face as she heard the sound of fabric rustling as he unsheathed himself.

She gasped when she suddenly felt him pressed against her, slipping under where her nightgown had slightly ridden up, warm and throbbing against her stomach.

He closed his eyes at the feeling of her soft skin, his lips parting in a faint, shaky exhale. He noted with shame that all it would probably take was a few, pathetic ruts against her stomach and he’d be painting her skin in milky white.

“Are you alright?”

He nodded, embarrassed. “Yes, I just…need a moment.” A sticky bead of his precum dripped out to wet her skin, coursing even more mortification through him.

He took a deep breath before he reached a hand down between them to position himself at her entrance. His mouth dropped open when he felt just how wet she was, coating him so easily.

“Fuck,” He gritted under his breath, rubbing himself slowly through her folds.

She couldn’t help but tug up her chemise the rest of the way over her waist, filled with the strong desire to expose more of herself to him. Her nipples pebbled as they came in contact with the cool air of the room and she let out a breathy pant at the sensation.

His voice was strained when he finally managed to speak. “If I hurt you, tell me, please. I’ll — I’ll stop.

She nodded, and even if she felt safe with him, she couldn’t help but tense as she felt him slowly press against her entrance. She gasped at the sensation.

“I’m sorry,” He brought a hand down to stroke soothingly at her skin, his fingers splayed broad and warm over her waist, a gesture strangely grounding and comforting. “Try to relax, I know it’s difficult.” 

He was so soft-spoken, so tender with her, that she felt herself ease immediately. He pushed in a bit more, letting out a quiet groan that he tried desperately to stifle.

He paused, brows furrowed in concern. “Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He continued to sink into her, his thumb rubbing gentle, soothing circles on the soft skin of her stomach, calming her with reassuring whispers. She felt so full already, yet she knew she’d barely taken even a quarter of him, a delicious sting around where he was stretching her out so achingly slow.

He looked almost pained when she looked up at him, his features pinched and strained, his hand fisting the pillow beside her head, the other digging into her hip. 

Tentatively, she brought a hand up to soothe him herself, smoothing her thumb over the tense lines of his brows, his lips. “It’s alright, you’re not hurting me.” She whispered. “You can give me more. Give me all of you.”

He shuddered, at the feeling of her hand caressing him, at her soft, encouraging words. He lost himself in the sensation, bringing his palm up to keep her hand pressed to his cheek, before he brought his hips down to connect with hers, sheathing himself completely inside of her. 

They both let out sharp, strangled gasps in unison. 

His head dropped down to her shoulder, overwhelmed by the feeling of her squeezing so tight around him. She brought a hand to run her nails down the nape of his neck, equally as overwhelmed by the feeling of being so full.

His voice was destroyed when he spoke. “Okay?”

She nodded fervently. 

Slowly, he eased his hips back, and just as slowly, eased them back against hers. She could feel his warm breath, panting heavy where he had his face buried in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. He nosed at her throat softly as he settled into an excruciatingly languid pace, terrified of hurting her. 

“More,” She breathed out against his ear. “Please, Ominis.”

His hand on her waist tightened at the sound of her pleading. “I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t,” She begged. “Please, I just want to feel more of  you.”

He let out a groan, his composure crumbling, and then he was bracing himself over her, hitching one of her legs up until her knee was pressed to her chest, and thrusting himself fully inside her again. 

He let out a guttural, depraved moan at how the new angle felt, his cock pushing right up against her walls. 

“Oh my gods,” She cried out, feeling him so much deeper inside her like this, her head falling back against the pillows.

He pressed his forehead against hers as he continued to rut into her just as she asked, her smaller body jolting as his thrusts became more forceful, more unrestrained, ones he couldn’t stop himself from giving her. He could feel every little whimper he tore from her, every soft pant ghosting his lips. 

He resisted the aching urge to kiss her. It would be so easy, to just tilt her chin up slightly for him, to lick into her parted lips and taste her the way he’s always wanted to taste her. To have her moan into his mouth while he continued to thrust into that sensitive little spot on her walls that made her see stars.

Thankfully, she didn’t make him resist any urges.

He nearly broke down when her hands came up to thread her fingers through his hair, bringing his lips down to crash into hers. The groan he let out against her mouth was utterly starved, a sound stemming from years and years and years of longing.

Her tongue tangled with his in a frantic quest to taste him just as eagerly, leaving them both spit-sticky and kiss-bruised, a messy desperation, too hungry for any sense of decorum. He wanted to completely drown himself in her, until his lungs were filled with only the air that she allowed him, until he was filled with nothing but her.

Having her moan into his mouth, feeling her lips start to falter against his when he rutted into that sensitive little spot deep inside her that made it overwhelming for her to kiss him back properly, was enough to push him straight to the edge.

His thrusts grew sloppy, on the verge of spilling inside her. He hurriedly brought his hand down to rub focused swirls on the spot he already knew she liked, desperate to feel her cumming around his cock while he filled her.

She let out a strangled moan, her walls fluttering around him, and he could tell she was just as close as he was. Right on the precipice of it, dangling over the edge. He’d never wanted something more, and feeling her writhe underneath him, he wasn’t above begging her for it. 

“Please, please—” He brought his other hand up under her dress to rub at her nipple, kneading the little nub between his fingers while he mouthed hungrily at the soft skin under her jaw. “Let me have this. Please let me have this.”

She obliged happily, in that moment willing to give him just about anything he asked of her. 

He tore her orgasm out of her with a few final ruts of his cock inside of her, hitting up into that spot that made her whimper. She came apart around him with his name spilling from her mouth, over and over again, as if it was all she’s ever known.

“Fuck, fuck—” He groaned at the sensation of her tightening, pulling him over the edge along with her, milking him until he was painting her insides with his cum.

He had never experienced greater euphoria, feeling her tremble against him from the aftershocks while he continued to pump inside of her until he was spent. 

“Thank you.” He kissed her sweat-damp cheeks as if in worship, trailed his lips to press against her hairline in gratitude, breathless. “Fuck, you did so well. Thank you.”

Her response was a lazy hum of acknowledgement, her eyes half-lidded, limbs syrupy and loose from the way her climax destroyed her. 

He kissed her then, sensual and slow, as if he wanted to prove his devotion to her with his lips. Head buzzing with endorphins, still buried deep inside of her, he whispered against her lips what had been playing through his head on a loop the entire time he’d fucked her.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

She froze, her eyes opening, as if all of the air had just been knocked out of her lungs. He noticed the way her body immediately tensed underneath him. His stomach sank. 

“I’m so sorry. That was — I shouldn’t have said—”

“Do you mean it?”

There was a heavy pause, as if he was considering carefully how to respond. Weighing his options. Ultimately, he decided there was no use in denying how he felt for her now. He noted wryly that he had little reason to worry about ruining their friendship with his confession when they were now married. 

“I’ve meant it for years.”

Suddenly, she laughed. A delighted exhale, incredulous. His brows furrowed.

Then, she said it. Words he’d wanted to hear from her for years, words he’d fallen asleep to countless times fantasizing about coming from her mouth. She said it so easily, as if it were a simple thing to admit. “I love you, too.”

An anxious, dreaded feeling settled in his stomach. He grimaced. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t—”

“Ominis,”  She interrupted him. “I mean it.”

His breath caught in his throat. “Swear it.”

“I swear it.” Her hands cupped his face. “I love you.”

He huffed his own soft, incredulous laugh. Then, he broke into a smile.

Stupid and giddy, the kind that made her stomach do somersaults, and left her with a warm, syrupy feeling all over. The kind where little creases showed up at the corners of his eyes. 

“Say it again.” 

She repeated it happily, as if it were natural. “I love you.”

He took her face in his hands and peppered kisses all over her face, overwhelmed with every little thing he was feeling for her in the moment, filled to the brim with nothing but relief and glee and satisfaction, his heart feeling like it might burst out of his chest with how full it was. He paused at her lips.

“Again.”

She laughed, amused, before she grinned and humored him anyways. “I love you.”

He kissed her again. Sweet and soft, enough to make her head spin, and she felt in that moment like she had been suddenly dragged under the warmth of a sunbeam. 

A soft, amber glow that shone itself on the dreary, dark future that she had envisioned for herself. That melted away her anxieties and replaced them with images of gentle caresses and smile lines and blonde hair threaded through her fingers. 

When he finally broke away, there was concern etched over his expression. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”

“Then trust me and let me make this right.” He brushed his thumb across the line of her cheekbone, traced her features with feather-light touches. “I’ll turn this into something good, I swear it to you. Whatever it takes, just let me make you happy. Please.”

She smiled then, hopeful. A flicker in her eyes. That little spark reignited inside of her, the everlasting fire. “We’ll make this into something good together, won’t we?”

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, pulled her into him until she was tucked safely into his chest, enveloping her in layers and layers of adoration that he prayed she could feel in his embrace. He closed his eyes. 

“Just like we always have.” 

#ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #angst #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #hogwarts legacy imagine

[sigmoon]

Stepdad!Fyodor . . . [final part]

Desperate times call for desperate measures. As much as you want to, Fyodor doesn't feel the same way about your relationship as you, and nothing you do seems to change that, not even a joint visit to his best friend. As if things couldn't get any worse, you start to get into serious trouble at college. Eventually, you find out what's keeping Fyodor from being yours alone, but in both cases, you have to resort to drastic solutions.

[pt. 1] [pt. 2]

cw: dark content; stepcest, smut, threesome, double penetration, spitroast, creampies, cheating, power imbalances, implied underage, Nikolai is a creep, teacher/student affair, blackmail, manipulation.

Pairings: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x fem.reader x Nikolai Gogol + Osamu Dazai x fem.reader (separately)

wc: 6.8k

Author's note: I had so much fun creating and writing this series over the last few months! I can't believe I've finished it :< A big thank you to all my readers, everyone who contributed to this work, and all the nice anons and my lovely moots <3

⟢ "I’m so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there’s other men I don’t want / If I can’t have you, no one will." - SZA / Kill Bill ⟢ "I remember thinkin’ I had you / And I can see us twisted in bedsheets / August slipped away, like a bottle of wine / ‘Cause you were never mine." - Taylor Swift / august

With each passing day, your gleeful anticipation to sleep with Fyodor and his friend only grew. Partly because the idea seemed more and more fun to you, doing something completely different from your previous sexual activities, but mostly because your opportunities to sleep with Fyodor had drastically decreased since the dinner that had almost put your little affair at stake.

And although your mother’s suspicions had turned out to be wrong, Fyodor had deemed it necessary to be extra cautious from now on, to which you had agreed, until it eventually clicked that this meant having notably less sex with him. 

Not only did it rarely occur anymore, thanks to Fyodor trying his best to fulfill his duties as a loving, faithful husband, and spending a lot more time fucking his wife, rather than his stepdaughter, but the few times you did get to sleep with him, lacked the passion that had been characteristic the first few times. Each time was a quickie, hurried and devoid of foreplay and aftercare, both essential parts of your lovemaking in its earlier stages.

While your mother was on cloud nine, with an attentive husband like Fyodor, and received all the attention that you felt was your birthright, you were forced to witness their ecstasy, betrayed by the sounds of bed springs creaking, their heavy breathing and suspicious thumping seeping through the walls at night. 

Each time you lay in bed with a pillow over your head at night, trying to block out the noises that you ought to make, not her, you grew more and more frustrated, feeling so deprived of your nightly fun, that you thanked the gods when the day finally came– the day Fyodor was going to visit his best friend, and taking you with him to introduce you to a new sexual experience, promising that it would be fun.

But in your opinion, Fyodor could’ve fucked you behind a dumpster in a filthy alleyway and you would’ve been content, as long as he was yours alone, not your mother’s.

Of course, Fyodor had come up with a very fitting lie about how you two were going to spend the day and not be back before evening in advance.

Now that you’d passed your finals (in all honesty, the lack of sex with Fyodor had had a positive effect on your performance at school, at least you’d managed to study well enough to eventually graduate high school, despite your inner turmoil), it was time to find a college to visit soon. 

Being the responsible father that your mother knew him as, Fyodor had offered to spend the day visiting several local schools in one go, to help you decide on one. 

Your mother didn’t have to know that Fyodor had already helped you apply for a school that was good in his eyes and also enabled you to keep living at home weeks ago and that your destination for the day wasn’t different campuses, but his best friend’s apartment, or, to be precise, said friend’s king sized bed with sheets that felt so expensive it was obvious that he had a generous income that he didn’t have to spend on kids of his own.

You’d long forgotten about your mother’s dreamy smile that she'd flashed Fyodor when he had proposed his selfless idea to help you to her, or how she’d wished you fun and good luck when you had left the house earlier.

Now that you were on all fours on the luxurious satin sheets, your clothes long discarded on the bedroom floor, your mind was on nothing but the men in front and behind you, stuffing you with their cocks. 

Nikolai had been giddy and eager to fuck you first, and, after waiting for your approval, Fyodor had allowed it, willing to patiently await his turn. In the meantime, he was enjoying the blowjob you gave him, sprawled out before you with his thighs spread wide.

“God, you're so cute. You feel so fucking good, baby,” groaned Nikolai, his hands, larger and rougher than Fyodor’s, kneading your ass as he buried his cock inside your cunt. “Can’t believe your daddy here waited until you were eighteen to fuck you.”

Fyodor, whose hands gently rested on the back of your head, as you slowly bobbed it up and down his length, hummed in response. “I believe taking advantage of a minor’s curiosity to fulfill one’s desires is wrong. But some people obviously have a different opinion on this.”

“Killjoy,” Nikolai scoffed. He grabbed the soft, supple flesh of your ass harder and gave you a little smack. “Let me tell you, sweetie, I wouldn’t have made you wait. Age is just a number, ain’t it?”

You could only whimper in response. You didn’t quite know what to say, as Nikolai’s words carried something creepy, yet he was much hotter than how you’d remembered him, and his groping, combined with the way your stepfather caressed you as your lips were wrapped around his cock, nearly drove you insane.

“Be gentle with her, Kolya,” Fyodor reprimanded his friend. “She’s not like one of your immature little playthings that you can toss around as you please.”

But before you had the chance to overthink Fyodor’s words, Nikolai firmly held on to your hips and pulled you back against him, making you yelp as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your cervix. You moaned around Fyodor’s cock, and it almost slipped out of your mouth.

Nikolai enjoyed your reaction greatly, and he cackled before thrusting again, even harder this time.

„She’s not as fragile as you think, Fedya. See, she likes being fucked hard.“

Not quite convinced, Fyodor tilted your chin upwards, searching for signs of discomfort on your face. “Are you alright, sweetheart? We can stop anytime if you want to.”

His attentiveness was truly touching, and despite the man behind you moving in and out of you at a relentless pace, you smiled and kissed Fyodor’s palm. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“If you say so…but your word is our command, little one,” Fyodor said and leaned back against the headboard of the bed once more, allowing you to pick up where you’d left off and pay attention to his cock. 

“So if Kolya does something you don’t like, tell him. He needs to be put in his place now and then…”

“That won’t be necessary,” replied Nikolai and he reached forward to grab your tits, groping them while he kept fucking into you. “Nobody has ever complained about my performance in bed before.”

It was hard to focus on the task at hand, pleasuring Fyodor, when his friend’s cock, bigger and girthier than his, dragged along your wet walls the way it did, pulling one string of incoherent moans after another from you. 

When Nikolai sped up his movements, and shoved your body forward, almost making you choke on Fyodor’s cock as it slipped deep into your throat, you gave up. You gagged and recoiled, coughing.

“Hold on…”

“Aww, two dicks too much for you to handle, little girl?” Nikolai chuckled. 

“I need a little break,” you told Fyodor with an apologetic look.

“Take your time,” Fyodor whispered and wiped the saliva that dripped down your chin away with his thumb, but you could see from the deep red color of his cock’s tip, and the way it twitched, that he’d been close to cumming, hadn’t you stopped all of the sudden. 

“You’re giving your poor daddy blue balls!” Nikolai laughed, as he once again picked up the pace, grabbing your hips tightly and rutting into you. His pace was relentless and his strength and stamina greater than Fyodor’s, you had to admit that. 

“Don’t you worry about me,” Fyodor said. He brushed your hair, that stuck to your sweaty forehead, out of your face and smiled gently. “We’ve got the whole day, and you ought to enjoy yourself. This isn’t about my pleasure–”

“Right, my bad,” Nikolai sneered and reached down to rub your clit in quick circles while he pulled out of you halfway, only to slam his cock right back into your pussy. “I forgot your balls belong to your wifey now. Snip snap, you left them at the altar.” He cackled at his joke and pinched your clit between his thumb and index finger, making you whimper.

Fyodor’s smile faded, and he glared at his friend. 

“Shut up, Kolya,” he scowled. “Don't speak so ill of my wife.”

“Ohoo, kitty’s got claws now?”

“She had every reason to not want you to visit anymore. And even if she didn’t, do you seriously think I would’ve let you…do what you had in mind?”

“You're just as sick and depraved as I am, my friend. After all, you're fucking your own daughter...” Nikolai grinned, his smirk a sinister one.

You were slowly getting fed up with their bickering. Too fucked out to properly follow their conversation, you were left lying between them being used like a soulless toy, with neither of the men paying attention to you and your pleasure, like they had in the beginning. What annoyed you the most was Fyodor defending your mother’s honor, as if she had to be mentioned and praised by him in a situation like this.

You sat up to pull away from Nikolai and instead grabbed Fyodor’s shoulders, slamming your lips against his, messily making out with him. 

“Shut up already and fuck me, will you?” you growled at him. Your stepfather swallowed thickly, looking genuinely taken aback. Your own crude words made you blush, but whatever it took to get Fyodor’s attention, you were willing to do. 

“Hey, what about me?” Nikolai sulked since you made him the third wheel. He looked adorable, hard, needy cock bobbing against his abs as he sat there, forced to watch you make out with Fyodor.

“Watch us,” you grinned and straddled Fyodor, who was still on his back. When you sank down on his hard cock, slowly, drawing a guttural moan from both of you, you kept eye contact with Nikolai. “Touch yourself…”

Nikolai’s eyes were wide like saucers, and he stared at where yours and Fyodor’s bodies were connected. Just like you’d ordered him to, he wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed it slowly. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see that the size wasn’t the only difference between their genitals. While Fyodor was circumcised, and his dick was the first real one you’d ever seen, it fascinated you to watch how Nikolai’s foreskin was continuously pulled back and forth as he pleasured himself. A truly educational experience.

The sight beneath you was beyond beautiful. As you looked down, you cupped Fyodor’s face; lids fluttered shut, a thin layer of sweat on his pale skin, lips parted as whines and muttered curses spilled from them. 

“I love you…Fedya, I love you,” you said, and buried your face in the crook of his neck, whimpering each time his cock kissed your cervix.

“I love you…too, honey,” he whispered, and you believed him, believing that he meant it in the same way that you did. One of his hands held your waist, the other stroking up and down your back. “My beautiful girl…”

The gentle pace, the whole sensual moment just between you and Fyodor, only lasted for a few minutes and was interrupted when Nikolai started to get bored of jerking off to the scene before him and sat up on his knees and scooted closer. You felt him grab your ass from behind, kneading the soft fat and watching how a creamy white ring of your arousal formed at the base of Fyodor's cock.

“Ever been fucked in the ass, sweetie?” he asked, and before you could answer, you felt his thumb flick over your asshole.

You gasped, as the sensation was strange, unknown, but surprisingly pleasant.

“N-No…ah, but…that feels good…”

Nikolai smirked and leaned down to drag his tongue over your hole, wetting it with spit. He spread the makeshift lube with his thumb, and carefully applied a bit of pressure, until the finger slipped inside, making you mewl.

“I’m not surprised. Your daddy isn’t into anal, although I've been trying to tell him what he’s missing out on for nearly twenty years.”

“Why would I…when there’s another entrance for that?” Fyodor said through grit teeth and slowed down the pace of his thrusts a bit. 

“So narrow-minded,” Nikolai shook his head and slipped another finger inside your ass. You moaned at the stretch, as well as at how Fyodor kissed your neck and collarbones.

“Are you sure you want both of us at once?” he whispered, gently stroking your hair. 

“Yes, I wanna try.”

“Yay!” exclaimed Nikolai, and pulled his fingers out of you, spat into his hand and smeared his saliva all over his cock. “Today’s my lucky day!” 

The stretch of Fyodor’s cock was already enough to make you see stars. But when Nikolai carefully pushed the tip of his dick inside your asshole, your mouth fell agape and you gasped. 

You’d never felt so full before, and Nikolai didn’t give you much time for adjustment, as he bottomed out in one single, slow thrust.

“Shit…ah, so fucking tight!”

You rested your head on Fyodor’s chest while taking deep breaths, still getting used to the foreign stretch in your ass. The sound of Fyodor’s heart pumping blood, like a song that was made just for you to hear, and the feeling of his chest heaving with each breath he took felt like a peaceful wave carrying you. 

“Mine,” you whispered breathily, but Fyodor didn’t even hear it, because at the same moment, he groaned and threw his head back into the pillows, as he felt Nikolai’s cock through the membrane that separated your ass from your pussy, when the latter entered you.

You groaned too, feeling the two men moving inside you at once, and your mind went foggy again as they continued using your holes to get themselves off.

“Are you already close, Fedya?” Nikolai groaned, not missing how Fyodor bit his lip in an attempt to last a bit longer. The way you felt so much tighter now, and the pornographic act of fucking you together with another man made it hard for your stepfather to keep his orgasm from crashing down over him.

“Mhmm…” he replied with a grunt. “Ah, fuck!”

Nikolai had reached down, grabbing a firm hold of his friend’s balls, earning a loud whine from him.

“I wanna watch you cum, your orgasm face is priceless,” he panted and squeezed Fyodor’s balls. Nikolai's cock was buried deep in your ass, though it only lingered there before he pulled out halfway and thrust back into you.

It felt amazing, overwhelming but so good. You made a mental note to beg Fyodor to do that to you too sometime, once this was over.

And oh, how right Nikolai was. When you slept with him, you were often too dizzy to properly witness Fyodor’s face when he came, but when you did manage to catch a glimpse of it, while sucking or jerking him off, for example, it was like a work of art, meant to be exhibited in a gallery for the world to see. And yet, it was all yours, and it was especially pretty to look at how his features contorted in pleasure and he let himself go completely, and knowing it was the result of your work.

Unable to voice his approaching release, Fyodor pulled you tighter into his embrace and dug his teeth into your shoulder. You cried out as well, both from the pain and the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you and painting your walls milky white.

“Feels good, dollface?” Nikolai asked you, grabbing your face to make you look at him. “You like being stuffed with your Daddy’s cum, huh?”

“Yes, yes! I love it!” you whimpered, lips swollen and red from biting them. Nikolai had adjusted his position and was fucking your ass at a new angle now, allowing him to drill his cock deeper inside you than before. His pubes tickled the soft skin of your ass, as he buried himself inside you to the hilt, waiting a few seconds, and pulling out entirely with an obscene sound.

“Don’t stop, please,” you pleaded, your focus fully shifted away from Fyodor, who was still recovering from the aftershocks of his high, eyes closed and chest heaving with shallow breaths.

“Little fucking slut…”

Your hole was gaping, clenching around nothing, and Nikolai inspected it with delight. 

“Want my cum in your ass, hm? Is one load not enough for you?”

Nodding frantically, you wiggled your ass, hoping that he would put an end to your agony and finally grant you your own orgasm. 

“Yes, please…please..”

He grabbed your hip with one hand, and stroked his dick with the other, tapping it against your hole. He was so close he ached already, and even if you wouldn’t have begged him, the chance was low that Nikolai would have managed to resist finishing inside you. 

He pushed in a last time, leaning into you with his full body weight, and spilled into you with a groan.

Hot, thick ropes of cum painted your insides, a lot more than Fyodor’s load. As he caught his breath, Nikolai remained folded over your back, pressing down against you.

“Kolya,” Fyodor mumbled, sounding pretty exasperated, and patted his friend's back– understandable, as there were two people lying on top of him, and Nikolai was heavy.

Obediently, he rolled off of you, and sprawled out like a starfish next to you and your stepfather. Fyodor too, pulled out of you and you felt empty again, aside from the two heavy loads slowly oozing out of your holes. You felt filthy but in a good way. Being jizzed on had never felt wrong when Fyodor was involved.

“How are you feeling, darling?” He whispered into your ear, as you snuggled against each other on the king-sized bed. This moment was yours alone, and you wished you could freeze time and stay like this forever. Fyodor smelled like sweat, and you were sticky with cum, but rarely had you ever felt this content after sex.

“Perfect. I’m with you, Fedya,” you hummed into the crook of his neck and kissed him there. “How are you? Was I good?”

“What a question. Of course, you were, you’re my perfect little girl,” was his response.

Next to you, Nikolai had started to doze off, softly snoring. He looked a mess, though you were hardly looking any more put-together at the moment. His blond hair was disheveled, cheeks flushed, and his cock, which slowly softened as it rested against his toned abs, was still smeared with both your bodily fluids. 

“He fell asleep,” you giggled quietly and reached out to run your hand through Nikolai’s hair, playing with the strands, soft to the touch. “How cute.” 

“He’s always out cold after sex, the moment he’s finished,” Fyodor snorted. 

“How do you know?”

Fyodor raised a brow at you and grinned. “I was also young, some time ago. You think this is the first time we’ve done something like this?”

He laughed when your cheeks grew hot, and you shyly looked away. You could hardly imagine a younger version of him sleeping around with Nikolai and a third party. 

Your stepfather cupped your face and kissed your forehead. “But none of those little adventures ever compared to you.”

───────────────

You’d had your fun at Nikolai’s, there was no denying that, but essentially, that little adventure had only made your bond with Fyodor stronger. At least that’s how you felt.

While you loved and wanted him more than ever before, the love he showed you at home was that of a father, as platonic as it could’ve been, and no trace of the romance you thought had sparked between you at Nikolai’s was left.

Sure, he was affectionate and kind as you knew him to be, but day by day, it got more difficult to deny the obvious: he wasn’t yours, but your mother’s.

Anyone would’ve been grateful to have parents who had a relationship as loving as theirs was, and you were too, in a way. After all, your father, when they had still been together, had never adored your mother as much as Fyodor did, and you knew that your stepfather’s feelings for her were real. And that was the biggest problem.

Fyodor loved you, he’d never shied away from telling you that, but after each time you two had sex, he kissed you goodnight and he was hers again. 

You knew by now that he wasn’t just pretending to only feel fatherly affection for you to keep your secret safe. 

The love he felt for you didn’t go any further than that, as deep and genuine as it was, and his nightly desire for you didn’t change that. As much as you wanted him to, he didn’t see you as a partner, a lover, as his.

And it was all her fault.

───────────────

Your first semester in college had started, but instead of connecting with your peers, going out, and enjoying the classes that you would’ve found interesting under different circumstances, you were busy ruminating about what in the world you had done wrong to be undeserving of Fyodor’s love, that your mother was lucky enough to be showered with day and night. 

Unfortunately, your lack of focus and drive started showing in your grades, the missed deadlines, and the unattended classes that piled up. 

But even that went past you, trivialities undeserving of your energy, as you thought, until one day, one of your professors asked to stay in the lecture hall for a moment once the class had ended.

“Is something the matter, professor Dazai?" you asked once the rest of the students had left the hall, and the heavy wooden door had fallen shut.

“Yes, I’m worried about your performance,” he said and crossed his arms, leaning back against his desk. “If you don’t start taking your education seriously soon, you might fail a few classes, mine included. Do I bore you so much you can’t bother to pay attention to my lecture once a week?”

Shit, you thought. It didn’t surprise you that your professors had a critical opinion about your sleazy attitude by now, but the possibility that you might fail if you kept going like this, hadn’t crossed your mind until now, that’s how mentally absent you’d been.

“No, of course not,” you said quietly, staring down at your shoes. “But I’m having a bit of a hard time at home right now, you know. So–”

“I don’t care,” Dazai interrupted you. “Save your excuses. What I do care about is for you to pass this class, as well as your others.”

Professor Dazai was popular among your fellow students; handsome, and young, compared to most of his colleagues, who all seemed to be about a decade older than him. 

His lectures were usually very entertaining, due to his charisma and wit– he was a true heartbreaker. 

There were plenty of students who started blushing and whispering to each other in the hallways when he was in sight, and you had often overheard a handful of girls giggling and talking about him in the bathroom as they gathered in front of the mirror by the sink, as they combed their hair or reapplied their makeup. 

Ever since your first semester had begun, you also heard rumors about him sometimes, and allegations that he had scandalous relationships with students on occasion.

Naturally, you were surprised at his sudden sternness, another side to him, one that had very little understanding for your laziness.

„Yes, I understand. But I am struggling at the moment. Is there anything I can do to pass after all?“ you asked, hoping to receive some kind of support or advice. Of course, you couldn’t tell Dazai the reason for your poor performance. 

„Study? Maybe don’t skip your classes? Get your head out of the clouds and take this seriously, I’m sure your parents are paying a lot of money for you to be here, and they wouldn’t be happy if it all went to waste, would they?”

„Thank you very much, sir,“ you huffed, wanting to turn around and leave the lecture hall. You’d assumed Dazai had intended to give you some useful advice, not darken your mood further. 

„However…if that’s too much to ask of you, I could offer you something else.“

„I’m all ears.“ You stopped in your tracks.

„Well, I’m always happy to help my students find solutions when they’re struggling. So, if you’ll allow me to…offer you my support, I can guarantee you that you’re going to pass all of your classes.“

„But I thought you only teach contemporary literature and art? How are extra lessons, or whatever you’re suggesting, gonna help me pass my other classes?“

„You’re not very smart, are you?“ your professor scoffed. „I’m not talking about extra lessons.“

„Then what do you mean?“ You frowned, letting Dazai’s words sink in. 

„Lord, give me strength,“ he murmured, then cleared his throat. „What I’m offering you is a little deal between you and me. I have good connections in this institution and more influence than you think. But my help has its price– we’re doing each other a favor, that’s it.“ 

“What do you want?”

Dazai remained silent, merely raising his brows and letting you fill in the blanks. You had an eerie feeling that there was only one thing left he could mean…

„Sex?“

“Bingo.”

“No!” 

You couldn’t do this. You didn’t want this. Yes, he was hot, but not hot enough to be worth cheating on Fyodor with. You shooed away the thought that technically, you and Fyodor weren’t even in a committed relationship, so sleeping with someone else didn’t count as cheating.

„Alright, alright, I was merely trying to help you out. You don't have to, of course. But in that case, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you,” Dazai shrugged.

With that, the professor turned around, grabbed the stack of books he’d used for today’s earlier lecture from the desk, and made his way to the door.

“No, wait!” you called out, just when he reached for the door handle. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Good. After class next week. Wear something cute.” Dazai winked and shot you a last glance before he left the lecture hall. The sound of the heavy door falling into its lock still echoed in your ears, as you made your way home, paralyzed about the decision you’d just made.

───────────────

For almost ninety minutes straight, you’d stared at the clock on the wall, as if your penetrating gaze would make the time pass faster. 

When the bell finally rang, announcing the end of the lecture, you waited for the other students to leave the hall. 

You wanted to shoo them all out, so you could just get the thing that awaited you over with, but they took their sweet time, chattering about the contents of the lesson and other trivialities with one another as they packed up.

“You coming?” one of your classmates, another girl that you’d befriended over the past few weeks, asked when you stayed seated.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right there. I just have a question about the assignment,” you said quickly.

“Okay,” she smiled, unsuspecting, and reached for her bag, before she left the room, leaving you and Dazai alone.

Your professor shut the door behind her and pretended to sigh wearily. 

“Too bad she’s got straight A’s. I’d love to give her a little private lesson too,” he chuckled. 

You grimaced at the crude joke he’d made about your friend but left it uncommented. The less you talked now, the sooner this was going to be over.

You rose from your seat and approached Dazai, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, trying to kiss him. He pulled back and cringed.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

“No, this isn’t how we’re doing this. Turn around, bend over the desk.”

You hesitated but did as he said. The surface of his desk was smooth and cold, and you shivered, though you weren’t sure whether that came from the desk or the chilly atmosphere. 

This was a lot different from sleeping with Fyodor, or even Nikolai. While Nikolai had also been less affectionate than Fyodor was with you, even he had enjoyed thoroughly making out with you before he’d wanted to fuck you. 

But Dazai not only lacked the affection and liking for physical contact that you were used to, no, he seemed to want as little as possible of that. This was all about the intercourse and nothing else, making you wonder if the other students he’d done this with had even enjoyed it, beyond getting off on the thrill that came with being fucked by a professor.

“I’ll make this quick, I know you’re not into me,” you heard Dazai say behind you, followed by the sound of his belt being unbuckled and his fly being opened. Fabric rustled, he pulled his pants and boxers down. Cool, slender fingers flipped your skirt up and tugged your panties down.

“I could tell from the moment I proposed this to you that you’re already someone else's,” your professor said and kicked your legs further apart with his foot. He leaned forward, his breath fanning against your ear when he whispered: “What would he say if he saw you right now, hm?”

Dazai’s cold fingers brushed over your folds, and you didn’t want to, you tried so hard to resist, but to no use, you could feel yourself getting wet as he collected some of your arousal.

“Would he be jealous?”

One cold finger slid into your pussy, and you gasped.

“Or would he perhaps…” he inserted another finger, “...not even care one bit?”

You froze, paralyzed. This man was sinister, and sadistic in every way, and he fooled this whole institution with a pretty face and a quick wit.

“No,” you whispered, tears beginning to brim in your eyes. “No, he loves me...”

“If he would, you’d be able to focus in class, darling,” Dazai scoffed and pulled his fingers out of you. He reached for a drawer in his desk and took out a condom, opening the package with his teeth. “You think I can’t spot a lovesick girl when I see one? 'I’m having a hard time at home' my ass.” Dazai slid the condom on and aligned the tip of his dick with your entrance. “Your guy loves someone else. Face it.”

With that, he pushed into you, in one go, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to muffle the sob that escaped you, but it wasn’t from the sharp pain that Dazai’s sudden thrust had caused you, but because of his words and the truth that they carried.

───────────────

“Ah-ah, wait a sec…”

*snap*

*snap*

Still bent over the desk, you squirmed when you heard the sound of Dazai’s phone camera taking a picture.

“What are you doing? Stop” you hissed and swatted his hand away, as he took several snapshots of your cunt.

“Just making sure this stays between you and me, sweetheart.” Your professor grinned at the screen as he swiped through his camera roll. “Pretty, huh?” 

He showed you a few of the photos, in all of them, you were seen in the same bent-over position, your hair a mess, your ass bruised with a red handprint, and smudged mascara on your cheeks. You were sore, as he hadn’t exactly been gentle with you, but your heart ached far more than your body did.

“You wouldn’t want anyone to see those, would you?”

“...no.”

“Good girl.” Dazai put his phone back into his pocket and handed you a tissue. “Clean yourself up. And hurry, my next class will be here in five minutes.”

You snatched the tissue from his hand and rubbed the smeared makeup off your face, once you’d pulled up your panties. Just in time, you fixed your disheveled appearance, before the first students came in through the door. Dazai looked as put together as before, nothing about his appearance gave away that he’d just fucked a freshman on his desk.

“See you in class,” your professor said nonchalantly as if nothing had happened. 

You nodded briefly and, without looking back, hurried out of the lecture hall and towards the school’s exit. Since this quickie had ensured that you were going to pass this semester no matter what (as Dazai had promised it, and you believed him, why else would he risk his job like this?), you felt zero guilt skipping the rest of your classes for today. You needed to be at home now, you needed Fyodor.

───────────────

Not long after, you stood in the kitchen at home and did the dishes you’d left in the sink earlier this morning, and Fyodor returned from work. 

He hung up his coat, took off his shoes, and tossed his keys onto the cupboard. Then, he joined you in the kitchen.

“Hey, princess…had a nice day at school today? 

Strong, yet gentle arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you against a warm chest. Fyodor pressed a kiss against your temple, humming quietly as he watched you scrub a plate.

“Hmm…it was okay,” you replied and leaned further into the comforting embrace. This felt heavenly. How you’d longed to be embraced by these arms for hours…

Of course, you felt like bursting into tears and confessing to Fyodor what had happened that day, but you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to argue about your reckless decision, or disappoint Fyodor because your grades were bad, nor did you want to admit to him that you’d cheated on him. Dazai’s hurtful words were stuck in your head, though you tried to ignore them. Your eyes stung and you felt a lump in your throat, but you pulled yourself together.

“What’s that smell on you?” Fyodor asked and sniffed your hair. 

“What smell?” you replied, and hoped that Fyodor hadn’t heard your voice crack.

“Men’s cologne. Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” he grinned conspiratorially.

Dazai’s cologne. Of course, Fyodor was going to smell it on you from this close.

“Of course not,” you laughed awkwardly. “We are packed like sardines in the lecture halls, so it must be the cologne of the guy who sat next to me.”

“I was only joking, my dear,” said Fyodor. “Besides, you know I wouldn’t mind if you were seeing other people. It’s a joy watching you grow up, and I guess dating is part of that.”

Don’t say this! You screamed internally. You should mind! We’re in love, aren’t we?

“I’m not seeing anyone. I have no interest in a boyfriend when I have you.”

Fyodor laughed at your pout and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “You’re so sweet. I’m so happy you’re my daughter. But it wouldn’t hurt you to go out more, you know? College is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, you’ll remember that time forever!”

I fucking hope I won’t, you thought, but instead of answering, you leaned up to kiss Fyodor’s jaw.

“Are you free tonight? I’ve got a new bath bomb we could try together…” you whispered suggestively. Your stepfather pulled back with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, sweetie, I can’t. It’s your mom’s and my anniversary today, and I was planning to take her out. Another time, okay?”

Right. The day of the year you always feared the most, followed by the annual flu shot. 

“Fine. As you wish.” You turned your attention back to the dishes in the sink, frantically scrubbing them.

“Come on, please don’t be mad at me, okay?”

“I’m not.”

“Darling…we need to properly plan our special time together if we don’t want to get caught one day, you know that. It’s hard to do that spontaneously. And while I’m having a lot of fun with you, and I love you to the moon and back, we are no couple, and we most definitely cannot act like one with others around the house.”

You felt your stomach twist. Dazai had been right, and your greatest worry had been confirmed. Your secret affair was nothing more than a little adventure to Fyodor, while it was the center of your life to you, and he was your great love, but to hear him say it out loud hurt differently.

“Have fun with Mom,” you grumbled and squirmed out of Fyodor’s embrace. You needed a plan, as soon as possible, for you weren’t sure for how much longer you would be able to take this agony.

───────────────

You had barely slept that night, partly because of your planning, and partly because Fyodor and your mother had been awfully noisy when they’d gotten back home from the restaurant, tipsy and giggly as they’d stumbled into their bedroom. As you were used to, they had hardly given you a choice but to listen to them having sex again. It was infuriating. 

Trying to come up with a plan took you a couple more days and sleepless nights, and although what you eventually came up with was cruel, you felt it was the only way that ensured you’d have a future with Fyodor, a future where your mother wasn’t his number one.

Fyodor wasn’t going to want to leave her, so she had to leave him.

You’d figured that, if you couldn't have him, no one should, especially not her.

The day you decided to go through with it, you weren't going to have any classes until noon, so, once Fyodor and your mother had wished you a nice day before they left for work, you hurried upstairs.

After a last moment of contemplation, you dug out a pair of brand new panties from your drawer– hot pink and lacy, and they did a very poor job at covering anything. 

Slutty and tasteless were the only fitting words to describe what they looked like.

You’d just bought the lingerie the other day, specifically for this occasion, which meant that your mother couldn’t possibly have seen them in the laundry yet, and identified them as yours.

Your heart was thumping like crazy when you entered your parents’ bedroom and placed them underneath Fyodor’s side of the bed. You took a step back to inspect the picture you’d created, then knelt before the bed again to adjust the undergarment’s position, so that one corner of the fabric peeked out from underneath the bed.

Today Fyodor was going to be home from work earlier, so technically, he had the perfect opportunity to invite his mistress over. Not like Fyodor had one, but what other conclusion could your mother draw when she’d return from a long day of work to find underwear that was neither hers nor her daughter’s, underneath their shared bed?

It wasn’t right to stab Fyodor in the back, but you had to frame him for something he didn’t do.

Confusion, shock, hysteria, divorce– that was the series of events you hoped to happen today, and all that you had to do now was heading off to school with a devilish grin, and later return home to find at least one of your problems solved. 

When they were done with one another, and you were going to stand by him, he would finally see who loved him the most and love you back just as much.

───────────────

The look on Fyodor’s face made you pity him when you returned home to find the exact scene you’d hoped to play out. He looked so hurt, so desperate to save his marriage that it made your heart flutter. 

What a man, you thought. The kind you don’t get over. And it was your mother’s loss that she was unable to see that.

Her voice was raised in fury and rang through the whole house, as she aggressively flailed around her arms, yelling at Fyodor and holding your lacy panties in one hand. 

Her poor husband tried to pacify her, stammering as he promised over and over again that he had no idea whose underwear that was, and that he had no idea how they’d gotten under the bed. 

On any other day, you would have interrupted the fight to defend Fyodor, but as sorry as you were for him that the woman he loved was slipping through his fingers, and that the upcoming breakup would catapult him into deep grief, this was necessary to ensure that he was going to be able to spend the rest of his life with the one who truly deserved him. He simply needed a little push to understand that.

Quietly, you walked past the living room and smiled as you went to your room. When the time would come, you would make sure that your beloved stepfather had someone to lean on to cope with the loss and eventually find love again, and god knows you were going to be that someone…

#bsd #fyodor.bsd #stepdad!fyodor #dark content #bungou stray dogs #nikolai.bsd #bsd smut #dazai.bsd #bsd fic #bungou stray dogs smut #tw stepcest #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #fics

[mvltisstuff]

could you please write ANYTHING for steven! no one writes for him and i love your writing!

would love a friends to lovers story but im working with crumbs so anything will do

you are in love - s.c

summary: request

steven conklin x reader

a/n: he looks so cute in this gif i’m crying 🩷 i hope you enjoy this, one of my fav tropes :))

the years had passed by so fast, each one leaving lost confessions in the dust. y/n would always regret it, but then new years came around and she promised herself she would say something. then year one passed, and year two.

she didn’t say anything to steven. she only gave small hints and signs, but he never really saw any of them. little did y/n know was that he was doing the same, sending her little messages with his mind and he broke every time she didn’t notice. it was pure oblivion, neither of them seeing the pure love they had for each other.

they lived as friends for too long. the runs on the beach, the bakery trips, the boardwalk dates were still friendly engagements. it was the complete opposite of what they wanted.

y/n had no idea how steven was missing it, even being valedictorian. he was the first to stand up at her sport games, or any of her activities that she did good at. he’d always have the most loving beam on his face when she showed him a good grade she got on a test. and she was the first one on her feet at his graduation.

she helped him practice his speech all the time, over the phone and even some long weekends in person. y/n was always there for steven, through the good times and the bad. when he achieved his goal, or when he lost susannah. she held him while he cried, listened to every agonizing word that left his mouth. he has no clue how to thank her for any of that, as she was the only consistent support system in his life, the constant source of love that he could never be derived of.

she drove hours to his school, sitting right in the audience with his family as he walked up to the podium. each word of his speech left with such grace, being delivered with his class in a mature way. the moment the last word in the paper left his mouth, she was on her feet, clapping her hands together and getting his attention first. his eyes wandered to her, the most alluring smile illuminating the room he was in. he was surrounded by classmates and their families, but suddenly, he and y/n became the only people there. he stepped down, accepting his diploma and making his way out after the graduation ceremony.

y/n pushed through the crowd of people in their blue gowns and caps, trying to find the only one who mattered to her. as she twisted and turned around the people, seeing no one that was remotely close to steven. he noticed her from far away, pulling away from an embrace with his mother and sister, seeing y/n trying to shuffle through the crowds.

his feet started moving toward her before he could even think straight. he just saw her gorgeous face, the one he just wants to love out of the silence. she finally landed her eyes on him, seeing the diploma being handed off to laurel. she started stepping quicker toward him, but it still felt like slow motion.

her heels clicked on the ground outside, trying to contain the wide smile she had on her lips. she was preparing to be there for steven after his graduation, but only as a friend. she so badly wanted more, but she pushed through their friendship with what seemed like ease.

when they finally reached, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her legs off the ground and her knees bent. y/n wrapped her arms around him, softly squealing in his ear about how proud she was, and that his speech was perfect. she started to blabber on about how amazing he is, moments away from spilling her whole heart out on the floor.

he giggles at her words flying out of her mouth at an insane speed, placing his hands on her shoulder and stealing her from her own mind.

“steven, you don’t even understand how good that was!” she rants in the most adorable way. “i don’t know how else to say how proud of you i am!”

“y/n, listen,” he grins, lifting her chin up to look at him, who stands tall over her.

“i’m sorry! i just needed you to know how amazing you are.”

he can only manage to smile back, tilting his head a bit at her. “can i talk now?” he asks, jokingly, as she quiets down to let him talk.

“i just wanted to say, that i’m leaving the stupid steven in high school,” he begins, leaving y/n’s brows and nose to scrunch up.

“huh?”

he places his two fingers back on the tip of her chin, lifting it closer to his face and planting his lips on hers. it felt so natural, as if they could’ve been doing it for years. y/n simply let it happen, the moment she’d been praying for finally happening.

his soft, warm lips touched against her own, the faint taste of mint gum on lips and the strength of his cologne. a weight was lifted off stevens shoulders as he deepened the kiss, the same load being swiped off y/n’s.

when they finally fell back down to earth, y/n smiled against stevens lips, the sweet grin only making him further infatuated with her.

“you’re the only one i want, y/n,” he says. “i can’t hide it anymore.”

“don’t ever hide it again,” y/n replies, reaching up on her toes to peck his lips again. the firework had finally been ignited, and burst beautifully in the brightest colors in the sky.

#tsitp #the summer i turned pretty s2 #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fic #tsitp fic #tsitp steven #steven conklin #steven conklin fic #steven conklin x y/n #steven conklin x reader #steven conklin x you #taylor jewel #belly conklin #team cam cameron #team conrad #team jeremiah #team steven #team belly #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #laurel conklin #susannah fisher #we’ll always have summer #it’s not summer without you

[1nyourdr34ms]

baby, you're so mean - teaser

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: mark x fem!reader

synopsis: you and mark know each other since middle school, but you always thought of him as a loser and he hated you for that. one day you meet again as college students, but mark is and looks completely differently which gets you confused until you realize you're head over heels for him.

genres: smut, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers

warnings: fem!reader wears revealing clothes, mark is kinda bad here, he smokes, unprotected sex, toxic kinda relationship, vulgar language

releasing date: march/april '24

mark and you have known each other since you were fresh teens. he is and was always too aware of your beauty and attractiveness. he knows exactly how you can light up the room when you smile, that radiant smile of yours. mark also knows how much you love lemon cake, and he has noticed your sadness when someone is treated unfairly.

but beyond that, and he is all too aware of this, he has intensely studied your body. he has attentively observed how your juicy butt sway sensually when you did rope jumping in front of him in gym class. or how seductive your cleavage always looks when you bend over to get a notebook from your bag.

were you a girl that all the boys in school dreamed of? definetely.

were you a girl that mark dreamed of as a love interest? not exactly.

despite all these enticing observations, mark could never really stand you. your mothers were good friends, and you were neighbors, meaning you have actually known each other since forever.

but you never truly paid him any attention. no matter how friendly he was to you, you were mostly reserved in his presence. a friendly smile was the most you would give. and what was even worse, at school, you acted as if you didn't know each other at all, although you practically grew up together. you treated him as if he were invisible.

instead, you gave your attention to the 'hotter' and 'more popular' boys in your class or school. with them, you were entirely different than with mark. you were popular, had good grades, got on well with everyone, but never gave mark a bit of your attention. that's why he hated you!

after graduation, the family lee, decided to move to another city which was 25 miles away from your house. for them, it was professionally advantageous, as mrs. lee had found a more promising position in her field and mark could go to the university he had desired.

it was a mild summer evening when you went down the stairs to the living room and found that your mother was not there. you looked out the window and saw your mother talking to mrs. lee, while mark was loading suitcases into his car. then it struck you like a bolt of lightning: mrs. lee said goodbye to your mother.

you rushed to the porch to join the farewell. 'i'm terribly sorry, mrs. lee. i completely forgot that you were leaving tonight,' you explained with a concerned smile.

mrs. lee smiled broadly. 'no problem, dear. we're still here,' she reassured you. you hugged her warmly, while mark only received a blunt 'take care, mark' from a distance from you. you didn't even look to his direction properly.

'what a...', mark thought, and hurried to the driver's seat of his car, before he could think about it for too long.

to him, you were just a... well, a 'bitch', a 'hoe' whatever. one who sought the attention of boys, who hung around and slept with the biggest idiots of the school.

he didn't deny that he found you beautiful and attractive, but you were and would never be more valuable to him.

the only thing that connected you were your mothers. apart from that, you were fundamentally different.

he came from an educated, wealthy household, while you in your childhood hoped that your mother had enough money to visit an amusement park the coming month.

thanks to your mother's promotion at her job, you reached a turning point in your lives. just before high school, everything changed for you both. you moved to a new area, bought a house, your mother had a successful career, you did super well in school and now you live happily together.

mark couldn't help but feel a deep aversion to the indifference you had shown him, an ignorance that offended his ego and challenged his pride at the same time.

he sat in the driver's seat of his car and waited for his mother. he allowed himself a glance in the rearview mirror to watch you. despite his hatred, he found it hard to resist your seductive aura.

he saw the way your hair fell playfully around your shoulders every time you tilted your head, the slight sparkle in your eyes that remained alive even in your absence, the way your smile warmed the surrounding atmosphere, the way your breasts moved slightly up and down every time you made short jumps of excitement, the way your waist line was in perfect proportion to your wide, defined hips.

the view of you was torture for him, because you were something he deeply desired but loathed on principle.

as mark's mother got into the car and he started the engine, took one last look at you and drove away, unaware that your paths would cross again in an unexpected turn.

#nct #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee imagine #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #nct mark x you #mark lee imagines #nct dream #nct 127 #nct u #nct fics #nct mark smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x y/n #nct mark x y/n

[grapejuicestyless]

Every Road Leads Back To You.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n have always been life long friends. A friendship that fell apart with his fame, but came back with hers.

From the moment they knew what a friend was, it seemed that Harry and Y/n had been that. Two friends who spent each and every second together. Sharing crayons in pre-school. Harry’s red wax scribbled on a thin sheet of paper to Y/n’s deep blue. Together they made purple.

They always shared, without realizing they did. Always so giving to one another, so gentle. They held each other closely, never alone. Always one step to the side of the other.

In elementary school, Y/n shared the sweetest candies with Harry when his mother insisted on packing healthy foods to help him grow up strong. Always letting him pick off what he wanted first before taking her share of the sweets. A smile plastered on their faces and chocolate smeared across their cheeks.

By middle school Y/n was buying all her shirts a few sizes too large. A habit she picked up so Harry could borrow anything he wanted, just as she had done to him. Raiding his clothes each sleepover and keeping them until he all but took them back. Something he said he found slightly annoying, but the redness on his cheeks and the guilty pleasure of seeing her in his clothes was nice. Only dueling his little kid crush on her. Nothing they had was ever just theirs. It always connected right back to the other but neither of them minded. They completed each other in so much more than materialistic ways. While a shared shirt or a worn down crayon box was a nice reminder of their invisible tie on one another, their constant presence and kindness that was reflected special for one another really completed them. Each becoming the better half of the other in their eyes. Something that was rare and so pure.

High school was the first ending between them. Each day spent together, hours dedicated to hearing Y/n’s laugh and Harry’s horrible jokes that she adored for reasons nobody else could quite get like she did. Homework was copied, tests were failed and tears were shed all on his bedroom floor like they always had been. And they remained together. It was their graduating year that Y/n gave Harry his final gift, one that neither had thought to be the last. Y/n had signed Harry up for X-Factor. A competition Anne and her had always encouraged him to apply for as he had such a raw talent. Harry believed that they were only saying that because they loved him, but Y/n believed he was the best singer in the world.

He went on the show. The Styles family excited waiting backstage in the T-shirts Y/n had made. Showing support even when she wasn’t allowed to be there. A touch only the family would know existed until the end of time.

By the time Harry was placed into a boyband, inching closer and closer to the end of the competition, it seemed he was growing more and more into someone you’d only ever read about in the latest edition of Vogue. His boyish demeanor never changing and his kindness strong, but his time diminishing quicker than anyone could’ve bet on.

So Harry no longer had time to be with Y/n ever minute anymore. No longer dedicating hours on his floor, back aching almost as hard as his cheeks from his smile. No longer joking about everything under the sun with her, no longer taking her shirts and trading off his as a fair deal. It all ceased to exist. And Y/n faded away into obscurity. Falling far from her role as Harry Styles’ best friend and into only his origin story.

………………………………………………………………………………..

One Direction was over. Whether the world chose to accept it or not. The promised return after the break becoming more and more obvious as one that fell through as the years continued to roll on.

It was always hard for Harry, being on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, he had grown to be self sufficient over the last decade. Learning how to do things on his own. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle it, it was that he had never mastered liking being alone. Always longing for a companion. Someone he could share everything with. Someone he could count on to laugh at even his worst jokes. Not just to humor him, but because they believed he was the funniest person on the planet. Someone that could give as much as he did. Someone who didn’t mind sharing.

Someone like her.

Over the years, Harry always thought about her. The reminiscent sound of her laughter still new and familiar to his ears. Something that he vowed to never forget. She always loved his jokes. Eyes constantly crinkled and teeth showing.

She gave too. Gave everything she ever owned to him in a joint custody. An unwritten rule between them. That no object was nearly as important as they were to each other. No job, no paycheck, no ranking in education could ever mean more than they did to each other. Harry still had some of her shirts. Bowie, Mercury, Buckley, Nicks. All the greats spread across some of his favorite shirts.

Everything about her was his favorite. Even after all this time. He’d had four boys to call his best friends all these years. Everyday spent together, bunk beds under one another and socks mixing together in their laundry loads, but nothing ever shared in the same way he had with her. His love for them not the same as it was for her.

That sense of loneliness always lingering in the back of his mind. Maybe a tinge of regret. He always wished he hadn’t let himself get pulled away from her. Maybe then she would be there, laughing with her head in his lap, mouth muffled against the denim on his thighs as she rolled around, holding her stomach and warning him that she just might piss herself.

Maybe they could’ve become more. Her hand in his and his lips on hers. A daydream he used to think about in middle school. One that faded away as his crush had. But now he would never see her again. Never hear her laugh or know how her smile changed with her age. He bet that it was just as beautiful, if not more. Just as welcoming. Just as genuine. But he would never know, as Harry had no idea were she was, where she had gone. Her phone number belonging to someone else now and all social medias deactivated and unused. She had truly slipped from his life, only to remain a wonderful memory. Until recently.

Like some unworldly creature had been guiding him, watching him and helping him, Harry had found her. It wasn’t in person, by any means. Her physical presence still as empty as it had been these past years. The loneliness still lingering and the regret still as sharp. But he had seen her. And everything he had ever wondered about her had been true.

For there she was, her face looking out an older looking window, surrounded by some of the biggest names. Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Timothée Chalamet, Saoirse Ronan. There was his beautiful Y/n, the girl who always dreamed of Broadway and movies was on the movie poster for the new adaptation of Little Women.

Something about it felt so right. The way she aged like fine wine, looking just as youthful as she did in her later teen years now even in her mid twenties. The way she had made it into a large project, something she always dreamed of, and something Harry had always wanted for her as well. A accomplishment that she deserved more than anyone. That and the knowledge that her name, Y/n Y/l/n was scribbled under the quiet, yet kind character, Beth. Someone Harry believed fit her perfectly. As to him, Y/n was the best of anyone he’d ever loved. Even all these years later, Harry still believed she was something of an angel that was sent straight from heaven just for him. The better parts of him and the even better parts of her beside him for what should’ve been eternity, but were taken away without reason.

He tried not to be weird when he passed it. Trying with all his willpower to not stop and stare for an uncontrollably long amount of time. Yet, his feet grew heavier with each step by until he fell to a stop. Mouth opened slightly and eyes sparkling with joy and wonders. He looked like a young boy again, excited over something short of Christmas in his eyes. The best gift of all had been granted to him, the knowledge that his best friend was doing just fine.

Harry was quick with his fan girl natures over her. Sneaking a quick photo underneath his coat sleeve and turning his brightness down to such an aggressive dimness that only he could quite see what was on his screen. His fingers wandering away from the photos app and searching her name, trying to find anything out about her.

Y/n Y/l/n. A twenty five year old actress who had stared in a handful of critical acclaimed films now, and earned spots on a few well established television shows. How could Harry have not known? Had he really been so caught up in himself that he couldn’t see his old friend rising to a similar status as his? How could he have not known she was in so many different projects, many he had even planned to watch himself. How could he have been so blind to his Y/n, who had been just a few steps away from his reach, who had continued to stay by his side all while he thought she was somewhere far away?

It seemed almost absurd, the whole situation. Someone who was so involved in the media not knowing about a very popular actress, who just so happened to be his best friend. But it was true. Harry barely spent time on social media anymore, not enjoying it the same as he did in the band. And his feed was mainly just his new friends, any posts of other celebrities unseen. Deep down, Harry knew it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know. How could he have? There was no way to ask her, no way to reach her. But even then, he felt that the drifting was his fault to begin with.

He wanted to blame it on his tour schedule and his long studio hours he spent locked away from the real world in order to create something he loved. But in reality, Harry could only feel selfish. Selfish that he couldn’t even be bothered to pay enough attention to the rest of the world to see what was always there.

He tried not to overthink it, letting it slip into the back of his mind as he geared up for promotions and lavish parties that tumbled his way, schedule too full to be worried about someone who had probably already forgotten those years and their secrets. Someone who had probably stopped caring long ago. And so even as the thought sat in the back of his mind, Harry did what he always had. Shoving himself into his work until the rest of the world and his worries melted into a nothingness.

………………………………………………………………………………….

It had been the night of a Gucci event. Something so prestigious to the outsider, but to Harry seemed more tame compared to the other events he was being dragged to. One that he could relax at knowing he had some familiar faces being in attendance.

He had worn his nicest suit. A simple white set with a ribbed tank top underneath. Pink sunglasses large on his face, but in a way he managed to make it look good. Hair tamed but free at the same time. To say he looked good was an understatement. Because Harry looked damn good, and he felt it too.

Not only had his appearance been a confidence booster, but the immediate finding of some of his friends helped to ease his mind from the pain of small talk. He had gone over lines he would say to new people, wanting to make friends and be kind, but felt more calm around those who already knew him.

It went smoothly, at first. His posture slightly slouched and drink held loosely in his hand. Eyes glued to the circle of people that had formed in the corner of the large room.

He felt comfortable, at ease with the whole night. It seemed that even in the beginning of the event he could see how it would end. With the professionalism fading away the deeper everyone grew into their drinks, and he would slip upstairs with a smaller group to do some questionable things, forget he did them in the morning and regret it while he was over the toilet by the afternoon.

A hot mess he would’ve taken any day over the hot mess Harry was about to become.

If he could’ve shattered his glass without facing consequences of it, he would’ve. Harry would’ve broken the glass and stared as hard as possible if it were acceptable. But it wasn’t, so when the all too familiar laughter, the same one that he could recognize anywhere as if it were one he still heard everyday just barely made it to his ears, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing and his eyes from widening.

Just beyond Alessandro, someone Harry had worked with in the past and was comfortable enough to call a friend with, was the one woman who haunted him innocently as a ghost.

At first he believed he was seeing things. His drink could’ve been spiked, for all he knew. He could’ve had one too many, even if he was only two drinks in and was nowhere near a lightweight after all his teen years conditioning to stomach the drink. But with the soft rub of his knuckle to his eyes and a few clear blinks, he could see it was true.

She glowed, standing out even in a room full of the most well known names. Her hair straightened until it was absolutely pin straight, the front pieces slicked back behind her ears into a sleek look. Her clothing similar to Harry’s, ironically. She wore a suit as well. The fabric the same shade of white and her face wearing glasses just as big. The inside the same shade of orangish-pink, the rims thick and black. A classic look that was perfect in her fact.. The only thing that seemed different was the fact that Harry had worn a tank top beneath his suit coat. She had a white vest underneath hers. One that acted as her shirt, and made her look that much better. She even had the same lazy grasp on her drink that Harry had on his.

She had been talking to someone Harry hadn’t recognized when he spotted her. Laughing at something the other woman had said genuinely before beginning her goodbyes. Her hands laying over the older woman’s gracefully and her head tilting down to excuse herself. How ironic that Harry would catch her slipping away, just as she had watched him do all those years ago.

Watching her walk away felt like his leaving all over again, and something snapped inside of Harry.

All these years of wondering, of regret and wishing that she was there had finally built up enough to make him forget that he was meant to stay and mingle. Make himself look good for future promotion of his upcoming album, Fine Line.

“Excuse me, sorry. I have to use the bathroom.” Harry hadn’t meant to be rude, but his eyes just couldn’t slip away from her fleeting frame, hands stuffed in her pocket and hair flying behind her.

His footsteps were rushed and quick, the warmness of the party turning into the darkness of the night the closer he got to the exit. Front door still wide open and the streets abandoned. Paparazzi not yet lined up on the sidewalks. He could see it now.

His broad shoulders had brushed another’s in his panicked state, soft sorry’s exchanged and his eyes becoming forced away from the only person in the room that seemed important in the moment.

The air was cold and with each heavy breath Harry could see a faint puff of his own breathe in front of him. He had lost sight of her quick, in his incident inside. His focus only lost for a beat, but long enough for the girl to slip away into the night like a ghost. It was only when he’d turned the corner, feet planted and chest heaving underneath a flickering lamppost that he saw her. The elegant woman smiling and thanking the driver whose car she’d began to get into.

He wanted to scream, to call out her name. Yell at her to stay, beg her to recognize him. But all that came from his lips was a heavy silence. Harry realized he hadn’t rehearsed what he should say to her. How do you speak to someone who knows you in and out after drifting so far apart and losing everything you once loved about each other? How do you reconnect? It was much too late to think about that, even in his jumbled mess of a head, he let his head speak.

“Y/n!” It came out staggered. Out of breath and winded from rushing out to get to her before she left. Feet heavy again on the pavement, goosebumps aggressive underneath his smooth suit. He was hell for leather in this moment, desperately trying to reach her.

His attempt was poorly timed, and just as they had all those years ago, the pair had slipped out from each others grip without realization of what was happening. Neither of them at fault, the only thing to blame was the lack of awareness that seemed to hurt them each and every time.

Y/n drove off in the opposite direction, oblivious to who had been shouting for her, who had been all but on his knees, begging for her to come back so they could see each other again. It looked pathetic, and he felt just as much. But Harry would much rather feel pathetic than regretful. A feeling it seemed the universe ordered him to continue feeling.

………………………………………………………………………………….

Y/n never knew what happened that night, and maybe she never would. It was ironic, and all together idiotic that the pair, who had always been so in sync with each other had fallen out of it.

If there was one thing for certain that they still had, and would always have, it was the known fact that no matter where they were pushed or pulled, they could never stay apart for too long.

With each new release of an episode from some corny, yet brilliant series or the premieres of a highly anticipated film, it only became more and more apparent that she would forever be a name cemented into Hollywood pop culture. The crowds of paparazzi and cheerful fans lining the exit to each shop she visited usually only furthering it. Her presence at lavish and exclusive events becoming something that was regular.

So it wasn’t out of the blue that Y/n would be spending her night at yet another gathering. Yelling and dancing with another well established name in Hollywood, and one of her good friends at some random celebrities party. The lights blinding her and the music way too loud. That was the one thing that had changed over the years, with her status in the world.

Y/n used to adore this kind of thing. The constant moving, the sweat and the coolness of a hard drink soothing the intense heat of a club. She loved being social, partying only to regret it in the morning.

It wasn’t that Y/n had become dull, no quite the opposite. Y/n was always the life of every party. The one starting the stupid drinking games and cracking way too many jokes, laughing hard at the ones being told. It was the fact that everything was just so fast paced. Waking up too early and going to bed too late, Y/n longed for those quiet nights alone more and more. Loving being able to curl up with a friend or two and just enjoy the night intimately. Something she’d always loved, but something that she had grown to love even more now.

Still, she let herself be persuaded into nights like tonight, three drinks in before midnight and makeup smudged in rockstar kind of way. She had glitter over her eyelids and a devilishly lustful smile painted across her face. The alcohol bringing out the flirt within her.

So she let herself grind up against the man she had come with. No one more than a friend to her, but someone she trusted enough to let loose with. Someone with the same mindset as her.

And with her head thrown back against his shoulder, hands running down his neck and his fingers pressing into her hip bones firm, it seemed like nothing else in the world would matter. Maybe the headlines would be crazy if someone caught them being so scandalous, being so free, or maybe no one would care. A risk that was all too fun, all too familiar.

The laugh she let out was one of pure joy, eyes snapping open and head leaning back up. She slowed, stepping away from her friend. His eyes opened too, missing the feeling of her body on his. She waved her hand, signaling she was okay, always one step ahead, already expecting his worried expression and questions.

“I just need to sit for a minute, sorry.” She downplayed it, acted like she was only getting tired when in reality, the whole room was spinning at a forty five degree angle. Her brain mush and lipstick wearing down from its crisp red to a smudged pinkish color.

She found a home in a well worn leather couch, tucked away in the back of the room. The music still loud but the lights not as intense. She could feel herself finding her grounding all while the leather stuck to her thighs and swallowed her into a comfortable slump.

Eyes heavy, she swore she could’ve fallen asleep. She would’ve let herself too, if it were not for the all too familiar voice that just passed her by.

Even with the music pounding and the distant ringing that was leaving her ears now, she could make out the faint conversation, catching the ending of, “-so maybe in December? I’ll be home by then and we can totally try!” It was all so enthusiastic and light. The accent not too strong but present. One that was similar to hers. She was sure she knew who it belonged to, and in her curiosity, everything he assumed was true.

There, only a few feet from where she sat, she caught a glimpse of those all too recognizable green eyes. Ones that seemed fake, like contacts but were deeper and less intense the closer you looked. A deep green. Emerald even. And his dimples just as deep.

She rubbed her eyes, glitter residue on her knuckles. Blinking hard and swallowing, she squinted. Was she dreaming?

No, she decided. He was there. In the middle of a sea of people, just as youthful and energetic as she remembered. It felt sort of bitter, seeing him now. How after all these years of nonstop thinking of him, there he was. Easily accessible and closer than she could’ve wished. Y/n practically drank up his appearance. He was just as beautiful as the day he left. It was emotional, weirdly enough. Everything rushing back. How now, they had spent more time apart than together probably. The distance killing her slowly all while he lived a good life. She wondered if he thought of her like she did of him. If he missed her like she missed him. She wanted to know.

So, pushing herself up by her knuckles, leaving a trail of glitter, Y/n weaves between the crowd. His name on the top of her tongue, eyes blinking rapidly to drown out the lights shining down. Flashing and moving too quick.

He was moving, fast. Walking with a friend of a friend, a taller man who looked about the same age but gave the vibe that mentally, he was more mature.

“Harry!” She shouted, her voice falling mute to the loud music and side conversations. A hand found her wrist, pulling her away from him, just as she almost broke away from the crowd. As she almost reached him.

“I thought I lost you, dude!” Tom had joked, his voice loud and light. Y/n turned her gaze away from where Harry stood for a moment, making sure it was really her friend that had her in his hold. And only after seeing his curly hair and half buttoned up shirt did she look back.

Her gaze was met with the emptiness of the space where her old friend once resided. Frantically, she searched from where she stood idly, but he had gone quicker than he had came. Almost like in her tipsiness, he was a figment of her imagination.

But she was sure he was real, she could feel it. She hoped it too. Y/n eventually managed to unstick her eyes from the blank space, finding her attention locked on Tom’s lopsided smile and his heaving chest. She allowed a smile to spread across her cheeks, letting go.

Even then, while playing pretend and seeming like everything was fine, in her head she couldn’t quite enjoy the night the same, mind clouded by what could’ve happened, what could’ve been. And in that moment it felt like the wound of missing him had torn again, cutting deep into her chest and causing a shut down in her heart.

The rest of the night would only be spent in the ways she had expected it to when it started. With her drunk, glitter everywhere and lips smudged. What she hadn’t expected was the regret of not trying harder to reach out to Harry and letting him get away again to be so strong in her mind.

The wishes that he was still there no longer just lingering thoughts. Selfishly, Y/n began to pretend that Tom was Harry, the drunker she got. His name almost slipping past her lips while they danced.

………………………………………………………………………………….

The air was crisp, the moon high. Even the softest breath could be seen, exposed in the cold December evening. The lampposts lights shining a translucent yellow that stretched across the pale pavement.

It was quiet, at this time of night. Late enough that the world was toeing a line between early morning and the latest parts of night. The clock inching closer to midnight with every passing second.

The world was asleep, the only sounds emitting into the once busy streets in the outskirts of London being the faint rustling from inside the twenty four hour pharmacy, the sharp crunch of hardening snow beneath his feet and the soft melodies that filled Harry’s earbuds, swallowing him into a world of his own. He had forgotten a few things at the market on his way home, and knew if he didn’t get them now, his future self would scold him for it in the early morning.

So there Harry was. He walked with his head down, one hand stuffed so tightly in his pocket, the warmth of the small enclosed space causing the palm to sweat a little, even in the cold. His other hand wrapped firmly around his phone, he searched his playlist for another song, wanting to find the perfect one to encapsulate this moment, cement the beauty of an untouched snowfall on the deserted streets of one of his favorite places.

“Umph!” It was muffled, when it fell against his ears. Music blasting still. Almost so quiet that he could have missed it, if not for the confirmation someone else was now with him with the very clear contact his body had made with another’s.

Harry let his hands tug at the wire leading to his ears, putting a pause to the noise that had swallowed him while for a moment. Ready to form some sort of short apology and be on his way, he took the chance to look up in search of the others eyes.

But what Harry found was something short of what could only be described as some sort of destiny.

Mirroring him, her hand stuffed into one pocket and the other pausing the music that had also seemingly taken her consciousness briefly, stood an old friend. One that haunted him every night, it seemed. Ever since his discovery of her.

“Y/n?” He meant to apologize, he really did. But in that moment he remembered having uttered her name too late all those nights ago, so it seemed that his heart was desperate to get it out in time now. Get her attention and never lose it again.

Her face was one that reflected his own. Eyes flickering up from her phone, mid-stuffing it into the empty pocket, headphones hanging down by her waist. And as hers met his, the whites surrounding the irises grew just as the slight parting of her mouth did. She looked equally as shocked as she did happy, in that moment. The circle of her mouth curling into a slight smile.

“Harry.” She breathed out, sounding breathless, he had taken it away. Seeing him that close, something Y/n had dreamed about for years, felt surreal. She could reach out and touch him, now. That’s how close they were. Like old times.

Harry took the time to inspect her before saying anything else, wanting to take her in a moment longer. Her shoes were just as well loved as all pairs of hers were. And her jeans were just as worn in as the deep blue puffer jacket that just about swallowed her whole in its size. One that had a slight tear in the left sleeve and ripped up fabric on the zipper. One Harry recognized to be his own.

Knowing Y/n had kept the jacket, after all these years, and even still wore it sent something through his body. An electric shock, his heart beating faster, body suddenly getting hot in all these layers. He felt good, seeing her still proudly showing off things that were his, but guilt soon took over.

What if she had only kept it because it was the only thing left to remind her of him? The only thing he had left for her? She wouldn’t have needed to keep it if he had been around. Had stayed by her side like they had dreamed about. His hand in hers.

“Is that my coat?” Harry felt stupid that, that was the question he thought of to break the silence. He could’ve asked her how she’d been, or what she was doing in London, but instead his mind stayed stuck on his jacket, a detail only he would ever realize was so intimate.

She blushed, at his question, looking down briefly as if she had no idea what she was wearing. Downplaying it in her own embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d want it back. I found it in my closet when I was packing my stuff.” Y/n flashed the warmest smile she could, one that hit directly at Harry’s heart.

“I can’t imagine it smelled too good.” He cracked a smile of his own now. It wasn’t the funniest joke, only one to help lift the heaviness of them meeting, but Y/n still laughed. It was quieter now that it was later and only for him to hear, but it felt just as good as it did all those years ago.

“No, it smelled good. Smelled like you.” Her eyes didn’t leave his when she said it, highlighting the unspoken fact that even after all this time apart, even after he had left her, she still thought of him fondly. She still loved him the same.

“Mm, teenage boy musk.” Harry joked again, feet starting to move, he let his hand find the small of her back, spinning Y/n so she was walking with him now. Something they’d both done half on purpose, but mostly subconsciously. Totally focused on just being beside each other again. Y/n let out a breathy laugh this time, swatting his arm playfully. Harry let out a fake groan, holding his arm even though it didn’t hurt in the slightest. And the sidewalk fell quiet, Y/n searching for what she wanted to say next.

“It smelled like vanilla. Like your old house and that bakery you used to work in. Like childhood.” She couldn’t have described it better. For every lingering scent that had stuck to the fabric in her old closet smelled like growing up. It grounded her. It reminded her that even when she got all big and well known, she always had a place back home. That she could always come back and hide away in her rocket ship bedsheets that Harry had permanently tinted blue after washing them with his.

He loved knowing that she thought of him still, he figured she would like the same.

“You know, I still have every single one of our old shirts.” Our. Not his, not hers. But our. Because that’s what they were, there’s. They shared them. Bought them with the other person in mind, shared them like they’d both bought it. Like they both owned it.

Going back to that, Harry began to realize just how right Y/n was in her description of the jacket. Even though Harry barely wore the shirts anymore, it wasn’t because he stopped loving them. No, they were just as special now as they were back then, but he hadn’t had her like he did then. He didn’t have her constantly around to stick to the shirts and remind him that they also belonged to another. Harry hadn’t worn them because they still smelled of her. Of cinnamon and strawberries. Of early morning breakfast and wet April rain. It smelled like all the places and things she’d done. It smelled like childhood. He worried that if he wore them now, he would lose that one last memory of how she smelled. Of who she was.

But now here he was, right beside Y/n, and she still smelled the same. Sweet and fresh, like she had never left. Harry was sure he smelled just the same now. His scent still vanilla and his love for baking still as strong. He hoped he smelled the same, wished he brought that same closeness to Y/n’s heart as she did to his now.

“They still smell like us.” He wanted to say they smelt of her, but he thought it might be too much. Y/n almost wished he had only said that it smelled of her, but she knew that Harry was always going to be less forward than her. Just a little bit shyer than her in his feelings.

The conversation carried away from their old relics of childhood memories and into more recent things. But the entire time, it flowed just as easy. They’d managed to catch up without really aiming to catch up. It just sort of happened throughout their conversation. Just like their friendship had started, they had shared themselves with one another, shared everything without realizing it. And in it, Harry realized he hadn’t gone to the pharmacy like he intended, but instead had walked past it. He knew that in the morning he would still need those things he’d forgotten, but he wouldn’t be mad. Because now he had something better. He had his Y/n back.

………………………………………………………………………………….

In the next few weeks, Harry and Y/n found themselves with their phones glued to their ears. The others voice filtering through the speakers. They talked everyday again. Hours on end like they used to. They hung out in every free minute they had. Like they were always meant to. In that, they found that they had done so much more than just miss the other. They had longed and desired one another. Always wondering, always thinking about the other.

In the new time spent together, their lives intertwining once more, Y/n realized she never wanted to miss Harry again. She never wanted to loose him like she had before. Her heart had grown too fond of him to let him go. And for Harry, he remembered why he had, had such an intense crush on her when he was just a boy. It was so cheesy, how he had fallen for her so quickly again. But you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. And they had, had a lot of distance to help that grow.

So the pair became more than friends, it seemed. The best friends enlightening everyone on their long, hard road to each other, all with their hands in one another and Y/n’s lipstick staining the corner of Harry’s mouth.

Harry’s fame had taken him away, but in some sort of luck, hers had brought them back together.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #yn x harrystyles #harry styles #fine line harry styles

[nichuuu]

Dried Things & Humanity

말린 것들과 인류

Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC

"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai

Dried flowers. 

They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.

You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do? 

Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.

“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”

Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.

The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)

The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”

You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head. 

“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”

Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.

“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.

“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him, 

“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”

“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”

You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”

Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”

Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.

By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”

Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once. 

The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.

You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch.  It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.

“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”

Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”

“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.

Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”

“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.

“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”

After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on. 

“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”

He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”

You nodded. 

“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”

And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought. 

Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover. 

“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”

That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers. 

“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf. 

As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you. 

 On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.

After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.

One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual. 

“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”

You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch. 

He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water. 

“What do you see?” he asked you.

“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.

“Just answer me.”

You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”

“Good. What else?” he urged. 

“There’s nothing else,” you told him.

“Wrong. Look again.”

You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”

“What else?”

You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”

“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.

Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.

“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”

He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly. 

“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.” 

The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life. 

“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”

Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.

In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road. 

It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.

***

Dried Persimmon.

That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.

“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”

“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!” 

You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope. 

“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”

“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered. 

“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”

“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”

You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring. 

You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit. 

Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight

“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.

When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag. 

“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”.  Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store. 

When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say. 

True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.

“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”

You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.

With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box. 

“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”

“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked. 

You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”

Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment. 

“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”

You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”

“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.

***

Dried leaves. 

That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you. 

“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?” 

You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out. 

You recognised the city accent in their voices. 

The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open. 

Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you. 

In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.

“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.

“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”

“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!” 

It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled. 

“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter. 

“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!” 

You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.

“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”

You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store. 

“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”

The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly. 

“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.

There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.

Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you. 

The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”

She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.

“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice. 

“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly. 

“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed. 

“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”

Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.

Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her. 

She grinned. 

You felt a burning sensation on your face. 

***

Dried Pollack soup.

That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.

“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”

“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.

“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?” 

You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?

A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.

“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely. 

Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”

“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.

“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”

***

A very, very dry mouth. 

That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work. 

She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine. 

Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.

“What should I do now?” you heard her ask. 

“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.

“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply. 

You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer. 

A tap on your shoulder.

“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”

You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter. 

“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”

Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions. 

Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch. 

“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life. 

It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm. 

You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.

“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested. 

“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”

You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street. 

“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.

“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her. 

“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”

“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”

“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.

Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.

“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.

“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned. 

Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…” 

She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again. 

“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked. 

“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”

Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.

“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”

The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.

“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”

You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?

The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.

“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”

She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more. 

Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her. 

Human. 

With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”

***

A dry wipe. 

That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.

Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.

Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice

Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves. 

“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.

“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.

“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”

Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort. 

Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks. 

Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him. 

“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed. 

“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her. 

For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.

“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”

The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.

“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.

“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.

“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”

“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”

You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.

Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…

As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.

“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”

The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother. 

“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.

“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease. 

They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day. 

“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.

“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.

“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump. 

“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.

“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”

Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”

You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”

You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.

“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.

“Hm?” she hummed. 

You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”

You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”

You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.

“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”

“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.

“I can imagine that,” she whispered. 

She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move. 

You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability. 

You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.

It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature. 

“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise. 

“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”

You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose. 

You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.

***

Dried apple slices. 

That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.

“These are so good!” she exclaimed.

“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.

Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.

“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.

“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.

“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her. 

“Don’t you have to search for a university?” 

You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”

Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day. 

You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.

“How long have you been here?” she asked. 

“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied. 

“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed. 

You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”

Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”

You were glad she understood you. 

“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”

You waved it off. “No problem.”

Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”

She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.

“It must be tiring,” you said.

“Hm?”

She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind. 

“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.

“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”

You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her. 

“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”

Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.

She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.

“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”

Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.

The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such. 

“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”

She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face. 

“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.

“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”

The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy. 

“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.

“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.

Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.

***

Dried anchovies. 

That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner.  You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease. 

The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late. 

You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna. 

“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?

“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back. 

“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.

You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market. 

9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.

“What are these?” you asked. 

“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”

The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.

You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you. 

“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim. 

“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked. 

“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”

I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on… 

When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble. 

As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.

***

Drier air.

That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house. 

“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”

It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you. 

“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear.  “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”

You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.

That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.

The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city. 

The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out. 

“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”

Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle. 

When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.

“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”

Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol. 

As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.

It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving. 

She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be. 

To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.

***

Dried flowers

That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other. 

You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her. 

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them. 

“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”

She stared up at you for a moment. 

When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could. 

When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”

You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”

She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.

“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”

You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you. 

In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”

***

The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents. 

You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left. 

The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron. 

“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you. 

“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back. 

It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life. 

The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.

“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”

Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace. 

“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”

You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all. 

You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!

It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying. 

“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always. 

Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare. 

“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”

“I can imagine that,” you replied. 

Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”

“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”

“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you. 

“Is she healthy?” you pressed. 

“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.

Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”

You lowered your gaze to the frozen water. 

“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”

The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…

You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.

“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”

Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”

“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university. 

“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”

The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.

For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave. 

“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”

“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”

The right person… 

Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.

Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.

Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you. 

Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense. 

There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her. 

You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.

Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.

“Hey,” was all you could manage.

“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”

Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…

When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…

She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.

Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot. 

“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.

“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”

She laughed at that. 

When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.

Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night.  A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back. 

“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.

“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”

“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”

You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”

“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”

“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”

She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”

You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”

You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two. 

Then it was time for the hard question. 

“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.

“I’d like to think so…”

Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”

Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”

“Ah,” you mused.

“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”

You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”

“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”

There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street.  Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night. 

I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.

It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.

She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now. 

She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.

But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today. 

Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second. 

Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.

Hoping faintly…

No. You wouldn’t settle for that. 

The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it. 

In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms. 

A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours. 

“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”

She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air. 

“I-I have to go,” she muttered.

You were tired of waiting.

“Yuna please,” you begged.

She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.

“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”

“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”

Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.

Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said. 

I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you. 

When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away. 

“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.

“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”

With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian. 

But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.

Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.

_______________________

Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.

~Lots of love, Nichuuu

#shin yuna #itzy yuna #fanfic #writing #kpop #fluff #itzy fluff #kpop fluff