#Also HOW did he have the time to do all that
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cherrygirlfriend · 2 days ago
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touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1
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you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.
"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.
"what is it?"
"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"
you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.
the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.
you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.
and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.
you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.
"rafe…?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.
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"i saw him yesterday."
"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"
"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."
"and how did he look?"
"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."
"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.
"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."
"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"
rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.
"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"
"the loss of a child..."
you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.
"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.
"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."
the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.
when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.
the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.
you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"
"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."
"rafe, this is-"
"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."
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you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.
you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.
"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."
"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"
"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."
"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."
"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"
"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."
"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.
but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.
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maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.
rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.
a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.
"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.
"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."
"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."
"i'm sorry, but the patient-"
"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"
"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."
"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"
the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."
when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.
you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.
but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.
"rafe."
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astonmartinii · 2 days ago
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put it all on red (bull) | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem russell reader
her brother won the race? does she know? does she care?
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, georgerussell63 and 204,300 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: VIVA LAS VEGAS
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user3: this is fucking hilarious
user4: her whole ass brother won the actual race and there's not a peep of him on the post
user5: i mean her boyfriend did win the championship...
yourusername: exactlyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i mean my instagram is for pretty girls only
user6: do not erase george's beauty
yourusername: nothing to erase girlypop - FUGLY!
user7: the way the guys are in the media pen and can't see that y/n is coming for their necks in instagram comments
user8: i fear she's already started drinking...
user9: in the back of the sky broadcast she hands max a drink and i'm starting to suspect that it was not water or red bull
user10: LMAO HELMUT TOOK A SIP AND LIKE NEARLY FELL OVER
yourusername: i've never claimed to be good at mixing drinks
maxverstappen1: WHERE WAS THE TONIC ???
yourusername: i don't believe in tonic 💔
maxverstappen1: YOU GAVE ME STRAIGHT GIN?
yourusername: straight 🤣
maxverstappen1: Y/N THAT'S ATTEMPTED MURDER ON HELMUT ???
yourusername: free me i did nothing wrong !!!
user11: these people kill me
user12: sign of a healthy relationship is making gay allegations about each other
yourusername: ALLEGATIONS ???
yourusername: george is lucky that he was the first russell carmen met ...
georgerussell63: RIGHT, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH
georgerussell63: thank you for the congratulations but STOP flirting with MY girlfriend
yourusername: congratulations??? for what?
georgerussell63: WINNING THE RACE?
yourusername: boring!
georgerussell63: you are so lucky we're family because you are a few cards short of a deck
yourusername: CARDS? that reminds me ... time to gamble!
maxverstappen1
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 1,342,988 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: winning without the fastest car isn't for everyone
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user13: this caption has y/n russell written all over it
yukitsunoda0511: i sat here and watched them giggle to themselves for a good five minutes while posting this
user14: tell max to post more pictures like the second one
yukitsunoda0511: they are not safe for innocent eyes and they are not taken with a locked door :/
user15: why are you there ???
yukitsunoda0511: they're very generous when they're drunk !
user16: so real
yukitsunoda0511: it's also not just me :(
user17: just how many people are using the bar tab?
liamlawson30: me!
oscarpiastri: me!
charles_leclerc: me!
landonorris: me!
pierregasly: me!
alexalbon: me!
yourusername: broke bitches
carlossainz55: you do not have a job?
yourusername: gambling and being pretty is more of a job that what you will have next season 🤨
carlossainz55: has anyone ever told you you're a really mean drunk
yourusername: just george about a billion times, you get used to it (we just don't invite you out)
user18: she is just dragging anyone now
user19: hold on that is her boyfriend's work boyfriend's enemy
user20: girl is 90% of lestappen twitter's source and you think she's not gonna have a problem with sainz???
yourusername: you're so sexy i actually can't even function
maxverstappen1: gotta put the trophy in trophy husband somehow
yourusername: jokes aside i am super duper proud of you, this year has been insane and you've proven that you are the bestest eva
maxverstappen1: couldn't have done it without my fave cheerleader
yourusername: i'll wear the uniform and everything ....
schecoperez: STOP
georgerussell63: still no congratulations? i know you won the title or whatever but we're going to be brothers soon SHOW SOME RESPECT
yourusername: literally suck his dick
yourusername: wait no
yourusername: suck my dick
yourusername: WAIT NO
yourusername: choke ❤️
georgerussell63: i have no words at this point
maxverstappen1: so romantic hehehehe
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, kimiantonelli and 410,300 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: put it all on on red (bull)
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user22: ma'am why is there a cat?
user23: i think we already know the answer
user24: oh i know the answer i just wanna know the batshit explanation
georgerussell63: exsqueeze me ???
yourusername: don't speak like that about your nephew ??
georgerussell63: tell me you're not keeping it??
maxverstappen1: IT? HE JUST LEAPFROGGED YOU IN OUR WILL
georgerussell63: 1. you have a joint will ??? 2. why am i on it ??? 3. what is a cat doing with a monaco penthouse ???
maxverstappen1: i thought you could use the money ? i know toto ain't paying you what he promised me
yourusername: george your weird sugar daddy is more broke than you think sorry xx
georgerussell63: once again, what is stopping me taking the monaco house from a literal cat ?
yourusername: caesar will be very aware of his rights string bean - just because you talk in an uppity accent doesn't mean you actually know anything
georgerussell63: i cannot tell who corrupted who but i am sick of being your victim :(
user25: yes as fun as watching them dog george is i do want to know caesar's origin story
user26: i have a very bad feeling i know where he got his name
alexalbon: HE'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE CASINO IS HE?
yourusername: ding ding ding we have a winner, always knew you were the smarter half of galex
maxverstappen1: your gambling is getting out of hand
yourusername: did i or did i not win us a cat ?
maxverstappen1: AND £250,000 ???
yourusername: didn't want to promote gambling too much
yourusername: KIDS DO NOT GAMBLE IT IS DUMB
yourusername: look at me i literally have a child now ???
user27: we have lost the original plot of the movie
user28: you must be new, we stopped trying to make sense of these two years ago
lewishamilton: i can assure you it does not get any easier when you know them personally
yourusername: we aim to be sexy and mysterious
lewishamilton: that's strange because you guys dance like little boys and overshare at any given opportunity
maxverstappen1: guilty !
georgerussell63
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 873,409 others
tagged: lewishamilton, yourusername & maxverstappen1
georgerussell63: i won the las vegas grand prix and all i got was this lousy cat
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user29: i am sensing a y/n and max meltdown incoming
user30: maybe they're too hungover to argue?
yourusername: NEVER
maxverstappen1: LOUSY CAT? FIRST OF ALL HE'S NOT YOURS SO KEEP HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH AND ALSO I WILL KILL YOU WITH A GUN
georgerussell63: excuse me?
yourusername: do NOT threaten my boyfriend !!!!!!!!
georgerussell63: do you have selective sight or something?
yourusername: no i just like him more than i like you
georgerussell63: you only met him because of me?
maxverstappen1: i have faith we would've found each other regardless we have a SOUL TIE
yourusername: EXACTLY
georgerussell63: i give up.
yourusername: this is exactly why you don't have a championship ... no drive (pun intended)
georgerussell63: NOW THAT'S IT
maxverstappen1: are you threatening my girlfriend?
georgerussell63: OMG LEAVE ME ALONE
user31: their commitment to never letting george have a day of peace is really quite charming
user32: they're going to give him grey hairs before he even turns 27
alexalbon: i gotta say georgie, i'm not with you on this one - caesar is THE dude
georgerussell63: are all my eggs falling out of the basket at once?
maxverstappen1: that's called karma for calling caesar 'it' and a lousy cat
georgerussell63: i can't lie i am missing your honeymoon phase you guys were a lot nicer
yourusername: we never left the honeymoon phase we just like annoying all of you
maxverstappen1: makes you people leave us alone :3
landonorris: you don't have to be mean to do that
yourusername: YOU JUST GOT OFF OF THIN ICE NORRIS WATCH YOUR STEP
user33: they can make excuses all these want but they just like annoying everyone else
user34: i mean based on their vegas shenanigans i think they would be super fun to be around
yourusername: oscar literally came to stay while he 'looked for a flat' in monaco and hasn't left... it's been three months. face it we're a HOOT
oscarpiastri: they are fun! the secret is to not be annoying sorry george!
maxverstappen1: they grow up so fast :')
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maxverstappen1
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tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: took a gamble when i went for the lanky posh dude's sister and i can now say it was definitely worth it
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user37: bro says snug as a bug in a rug once and now he's labelled as posh HE'S FROM NORFOLK
user38: it's also the way that y/n never gets the posh allegations
georgerussell63: it's because she's scruffy as fuck x
maxverstappen1: literally outside your house with a knife, keep talking
georgerussell63: i'm a grown man, max, you don't scare me
maxverstappen1: so i'm free to do a little gardening while you hide inside?
georgerussell63: you wouldn't...
yourusername: GO FOR THE PEONIES MAX
georgerussell63: NOT THE PEONIES I BEG HAVE MERCY
user39: so i'm supposed to read all of this shit and take them seriously when they get in the car
user40: it's part of the charm i think
user41: it's all fun and games until you remember they are full grown adults who can vote who are arguing over flowers
yourusername: i'd go through the strenuous task of growing up with george thousands more times just to be with you
maxverstappen1: i've been in love with you since i was 14, there has never been anyone else for me and there will never be anyone else for me
yourusername: ugh why didn't we just get married in vegas ?
maxverstappen1: because even though i did just harm his flowers, i do want to marry you in front of our families
yourusername: i guess you're right
georgerussell63: you know what? based on how you usually talk to me... i'm touched
yourusername: if i'm feeling generous i'll even let you do the seating chart
georgerussell63: I LOVE YOU BEST SISTER EVER
user42: only a declaration of love between max and y/n could end with george proclaiming his love for charts
user43: how does one procure an invite to this wedding ...
yourusername: be cunty
yourusername: @zakbrownceo YOU'RE BARRED
yourusername
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tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: i'm the sibling who can't drive and yet i'm the one with four championship trophies in their house... george, step your pussy up x
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user44: omg queen who can't drive, she's such representation
yourusername: george says i'm so mean all the time but really i'm generous, i clearly gave him all the driving genes
user45: have you even tried driving?
yourusername: i went on max's sim once and got motion sickness and i'm also with the best driver in the world and siblings with an okay one - i'm surviving
alexalbon: he's already texted me about your language on this post
yourusername: just because he's a boomer in a string bean's body does not mean i must censor myself - he should know what stepping his pussy up means by now
georgerussell63: i will not be stepping on any pussy, i respect both felines and women
maxverstappen1: you called caesar 'it' so PLEASE
georgerussell63: i respect women?
maxverstappen1: you called y/n scruffy?
georgerussell63: that's y/n it doesn't count
maxverstappen1: that's not very feminist of you george. i am disappointed
yourusername: i agree, i really think the GDPA should reconsider the type of person they're letting run it
georgerussell63: huh?
yourusername: not once have i been invited to a grid meal ....
georgerussell63: well you're not on the grid that's why
yourusername: FEMALE EXCLUSION
maxverstappen1: you know we have attachment issues, you're so heartless george
georgerussell63: what is going on ???
yourusername: you CLEARLY don't care about me
maxverstappen1: and you CLEARLY don't care about the wellbeing of the grid
georgerussell63: I'M SORRY???
user46: george is unbelievably easy to rattle
user47: it must be so fun
yourusername: oh believe me, we have way too much fun
maxverstappen1: we once convinced him that it was a social faux pas to shake hands in japan lol
georgerussell63: IS THAT WHY MERCEDES WERE TOLD THAT EVERYONE THOUGHT I WAS REALLY RUDE ???
yourusername: LMAOOOOOOOO
maxverstappen1: so so so easy bro
user48: i guess a couple that plays mind tricks together, stay together?
yourusername: 4eva
maxverstappen1: til death do us part
yourusername: quite literally you're not leaving me alone with GEORGE
georgerussell63: you know what: DIE
yourusername: GASP
maxverstappen1: @fia get his ass
fin.
note: HAPPY MAX VERSTAPPEN CHAMPIONSHIP DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE. IE. ME LOL
2K notes · View notes
foxy-eva · 2 days ago
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Send Nudes
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Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex
Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!
Word count: 3.2k
Masterlist
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Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 
It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 
It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 
Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 
A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 
You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 
“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 
You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 
You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 
Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 
“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 
“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 
“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 
“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 
Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 
A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.
“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 
“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.
Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 
“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 
“I’m not… offended.”
You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 
“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 
Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 
The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 
If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.
The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 
He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 
“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”
“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 
He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 
Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”
“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?
He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”
“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”
That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 
You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 
“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”
His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.
His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 
The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 
It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 
He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 
A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.
Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”
The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 
“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”
A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”
“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 
Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”
His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 
Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 
He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 
When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 
Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 
Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 
Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 
It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 
As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”
His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 
“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 
He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 
“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 
“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 
The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.
He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 
You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 
Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 
Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 
“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 
It was everything you wanted right then, too. 
“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 
His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 
He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 
Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 
“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 
Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 
You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 
“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 
He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 
There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.
“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 
His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 
With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 
The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 
You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 
“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 
“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 
Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 
With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 
“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 
The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 
“So, you want to fuck me?” 
“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”
With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 
Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 
“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 
Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 
Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 
“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”
One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 
“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 
With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 
For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 
“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 
You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 
“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 
“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”
Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”
“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”
“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”
Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”
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Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!
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Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago
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Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.
So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.
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Mr crawling
Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.
He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.
‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.
‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.
‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.
While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.
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Mr silvair
The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.
He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.
He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.
Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.
He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.
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Mr Scarletella
Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.
He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.
He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.
His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.
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Mr Hood
Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.
He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.
It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.
It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.
Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.
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menagerofmischief · 3 days ago
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M4X
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summary: after max wins his 4th title in vegas, you congratulate him in a special way in his driver's room
tags: pwp, kinda sub!max, semi public sex, blowjob, deep throating, I went a bit wild on use of "champion"
wc: 1.4k
a/n: do I have an exam tomorrow? yes! am I in the middle of writing a lando fic? also yes! but ever since the race ended I keep thinking about this so I had to write it.
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You waited patiently, bounding on the balls of your feet as you gathered outside the RedBull garage alongside the employees, feeling like both your nerves and excitement were choking you up.
Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling when Max pulled the car up in front of the “champion” banner, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as you watched him get out of the car.
A quick pose for the picture and then he was pulling off his helmet and balaclava, eyes searching across the many faces in the crowd until they finally met yours. And then he was running, a smile on his face as he reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up to spin you around in joy, both of you laughing through choked sobs.
“You did it!” You said, your voice cracking. Max put you down, your feet now flat against the ground and you looked up at him, looping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you.
It was a desperate, passionate, raw and purely primal kind of kiss. The kind Max rarely allowed himself in public, but this was a special occasion. Open mouthed, his tongue stroking against your own, licking into your mouth desperately.
Finally the two of you pulled away, the loud cheers coming from the workers of RedBull filling your ears as everyone celebrated the win.
You part your lips, a breath coming out as your eyes meet with his and your lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Congratulations, champion.” You say, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Go celebrate!”
Max nodded, leaning in for another kiss, shorter this time, and then going down to greet the rest of the team and celebrate with them before heading to the cool down car.
Once all the formal celebrations and interviews were down, and everyone gave their congratulations, Max went to search for you.
A brief talk with one of the mechanics let him know you were waiting for him in his driver's room and he wasted no time in making his way over there.
He twisted the door, stepping into the room and his eyes immediately scanning the small space until they landed on you, sitting on top of his massage table with legs dangling down, wearing one of by now very spottable shirts in the RedBull garage, with his name. M4X.
"Do you like the shirt?" You ask with a laugh, pushing your chest out a bit to show him the logo.
He hums, making his way across the room and to you, one of his hands grabbing your chin and lifting up your head to kiss you. "Love it," he replies, lips brushing against your own with each word he speaks.
You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back a bit, enough to give you space to jump down from the massage table. You circle around him, running your fingers along his shoulders and back.
“You looked so good today,” you purr in his ear, fingers grasping onto the zipper of his racing suit as you slowly start pulling it down. “A 4 time world champion. My world champion.”
Max groans at the words coming from your mouth and you take the moment to lean forward and press open mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck, licking against the spots you know are the most sensitive for him.
“Fuck, schatje.” He says, his voice coming out more as a broken whisper than what he intended.
You move your hands and start pushing down his race suit until it pools around his ankles and with just a second of effort he steps out of it, looking at you with wide eyes and pouty lips, almost as if begging for anything you want to give him, as long as it’s something.
“Go on and sit,” you tell him, gesturing towards one of the chairs in the room. For a second he’s completely still and you think maybe he hasn’t heard you but then he bolts towards the chair, practically tripping over his own two feet as he moves to sit down.
You pull down your pants and step out of them, the slightly colder Vegas air making goosebumps raise across the skin of your legs. You leave the shirt on, a pair of navy blue panties barely peeking out. 
Max takes in a deep breath as you sink down onto your knees in front of him. “Wait!” He says, and you still instantly, you’re about to ask what’s wrong when he gets up to grab his discarded racing suit and pulls you up just enough to slip the fabric under your knees before moving back into the chair. 
“Thank you, baby.” You smile at him, leaning forward and pressing kisses along the skin of his thigh, the muscles flexing due to him tensing up from your actions. “Now, I think my champion deserves a reward, isn’t that right?”
“Yes!” Max says, his voice overly excited but you can’t blame him. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.” You say, palming him over his boxers before sinking your fingers under the waistband. He lifts his hips in an effort to help you pull his boxers down and once you have them off you waste no time wrapping your hands around his already hard cock.
You slide your fingers over the slit, collecting the bits of precum that has already started leaking and using it as lube as you twist your hands down his dick. Max hisses, feeling pleasure overwhelm his senses as you lean forward, pressing a kiss onto the tip of his cock before opening your mouth and gently sucking on it.
Max’s moans are nearly pornographic, his cheeks flushed and lips open as moans and pleas slip past. You push your head further down, gliding your tongue along his length and pressing it just a bit against the vein running along the underside of his cock.
“You feel so good, schatje.” He says, his voice cracking. His hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair as he pulls it into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face.
He pushed your head down, not too rough, forcing you to take him deeper into your mouth until the tip is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is rubbing against his neatly trimmed base.
You hollow your cheeks around him, giving him a long suck before pulling your hair halfway up and then dropping it down again, gagging a little from the pressure at the back of your throat. 
It doesn’t take long for you to feel Max’s thighs tensing and slightly shaking as he approaches the edge of his orgasm, the grip of his fingers in your hair tightening. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He moans out, hips lifting off the chair as he thrusts his dick into your mouth, chasing the warmth around his dick. “So good, schatje, so good." Gonna make me cum.”
Encouraged by his words you speed up your movements, bobbing your head along his dick faster until you feel him twitch inside of you, and then filling your mouth with his hot cum. You pull off his slowly softening cock, letting it slip past your lips, and swallow.
You smile at him as you eye the mess on his cock and then teasingly lean back down to lick him clean. “You did so good baby,” you tell him, pressing your lips against his briefly as you go to stand up.
Max stands up, one of his knees buckling slightly, he leans down and grabs his boxers and pulls them up. “I didn’t get the podium today but this was so much better.” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You laugh in response, pressing your lips against the palm of his hand. “Come on, champ, get dressed.” You say, the tone of your voice teasing. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight.”
“Or maybe I’ll be hitting your cervix tonight.”
A laugh slips past your lips, your tongue darting out to lick them. “Maybe after a few drinks and some dancing.”
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the-knight-of-the-stars · 23 hours ago
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Are we gonna talk about how that finale entirely erased any conversation about class divisions or are we too focused on ships?
Are we gonna talk about how Caitlyn for a good chunk of the season willingly enforces violence and opression against the lowest class, no doubt directly causing more deaths and suffering, and she is forgiven by the narrative without any meaningful reflecting?
Her great moment getting together with Vi is right after she JUST had a conversation with Jinx where we see she STILL doesn't recognize any class bias she clearly has, insted making it about HER.
Her and the other enforcers are treated like noble heroes in the final battle, all the blame put on Ambesa. Vi's happy ending is getting into a relationship with the exact type of person who perpetuated all the suffering she endured as a child.
Are we gonna talk about how Jayce never leaves his privilege pedestal, never actually reflects on how he was also enforcing violence to the people of the undercity and living on his bliss of progress at THEIR expense?
Jayce, who got help on every step of the way to get to where he is, who wasn't disabled, who never lived the kind of poverty or class obstacles Viktor did, who never recognized the harm he enabled and was complicit to, HE was the one to tell Viktor "People build their own destiny." and "There is beauty in imperfection" ?????
Not to mention the whole bit where he implies Viktor did all that because he wanted to "eradicate what he thought was weakness"??? Didn't we stablished Viktor wanted to HELP THE PEOPLE FROM THE UNDERCITY TO HAVE BETTER LIFE CONDITIONS?? don't try to gaslight me.
I know this is just a TV show, but I need to remind everyone that what perpetuates opressive, discriminatory and violent systems as long and as deeply as they do is indiference. Is turning your head and enabling others to stay ignorant.
Edit: You guys are misunderstanding me. And I admit it is probably my fault, I wrote this high with emotion I wasn't as eloquent.
Jayce's exact choice of words or his time living in the alternate world is nowhere near my point.
My point is, that the narrative is establishing that the privileged character, is the one that has to show (and is quite literally, textually, always the one to show) the underprivileged character that "he was looking at life the wrong way." Forgetting that Viktor's journey of feeling powerless was greatly influenced by the fact he was poor and from the undercity.
That's what I meant by it erasing the part of the plot about class systems. In the end, the story only requires Jayce to understand Viktor's struggle on a superficial level, but the text never recognizes that it as the product of a deeply rooted SYSTEMIC ISSUE. One Jayce and even Viktor on some level, benefited from and perpetuated.
Understanding Viktor still doesn't give him any moral ground, and nobody ever challenges him on that because the story isn't interested in that anymore.
And the same with Caitlyn. She knows what she did what's wrong, fine, she feels bad. Like I said, she still has a class bias, and no character challenges her on it again because the story derails to magic and fighting and whatnot.
The plot just forgets (or ignores) that layer of the story despite it being so prominent up until now.
And ignoring the class discussion does a disservice to every single character because they were initially built on it. You can see it in how they lose the essence they had on s1.
I know y'all love the characters and want to empathize with all their motivations, okay? But the fundamental issue is that characters also represent things, and more so in a story as political as this one. We also have the right to point out that the show told us they represented something and then abandoned that narrative.
What do I think they could have done differently? If I tell you scene by scene we could be here for an entire year. The gist of it is: I think they should have stuck to the character themes they already had established.
Vi as someone fiercely loyal to the undercity beyond her relationship with Powder/Jinx, and being "cursed" by the role of the older sister. Jayce as someone with good intentions but who is ultimately limited by his blind idealism. Mel as a cunning politician who thinks she is on the right path because she isn't violent like her mother, not realizing she is still perpetuating it. Caitlyn as someone kind and compassionate who realizes the institutions she believed in are fundamentally flawed, and because of the way they are built will never be on the side of kindness. Etc, etc.
None of that gets any meaningful resolution.
I am glad if you liked it, or got something from it, you are entitled to your opinion.
I wanted to say this because I was angry, and still am. Because there was so much incredible potential, and honestly, to me, it feels like the writers chickened out on actually saying something in the end.
That's all I have to say about that.
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wonustars · 3 days ago
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In Front of Me (2)
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cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚
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⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1: here) (part 2)
⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.
⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (smut and content warnings under the cut)
⊹ note: here is pt.2 i hope you like how this ended :) thank you for reading ♡ please leave a reblog, comment, or ask with your thoughts, i appreciate u !
⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.
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⊹ smut tags: dry humping, kissing, fingering, penetrative sex, corruption kink, degradation, dom!wonwoo, brat!reader, virgin!reader,oral (f. receiving), creampie, exhibitionsm (?), slightly perv!wonwoo undertones, petnames (reader: darling, baby) (wonwoo: baby), big dick wonwoo, riding, headlock (this is a warning actly). ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p
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act two, self control.
chapter one, before the fight. 
The booth you sat in was far too cramped for your liking, yet there was a sense of relief that washed over you. Raval had been a go-to hang-out spot after all the tireless hours spent studying during the weekdays. The atmosphere was lively, your friends’ laughter drowning out most of your thoughts. 
Tonight also marked the first time in your life that you could fully enjoy a night out with your friends. Without Wonwoo’s presence clouding your worries. 
Despite his obvious plea for attention, you felt like you could finally breathe. The adjustment and decision to flat-out ignore him was difficult, but thanks to Seokmin it had become a little easier to bear over time. This past week was filled with more joy than you’ve had in a long time. And Seokmin had been extremely doting towards you throughout it all. 
“Babe, can you pass the pistachios please?” Jun pouts, his cheeks red from his third glass of beer. 
“Did you need me to peel them for you, baby?” June coos, lips curling into a cutesy tone. 
With a quizzical expression, Mingyu turns to Kalia, trying not to laugh at the other couple's foolishness. The two share a look before Kalia fake gags, causing Mingyu to burst out laughing. It had almost gone unnoticed until Mingyu broke out into a fit of giggles, June glaring at him with an unamused expression. 
Watching the whole scene unfold had you smiling to yourself, wondering if there would ever be a time when you got to have these cheesy moments with someone the way your friends did. 
“Oh please, Kalia. You act like I didn’t see you and Mingyu practically eating each other's faces off in the library yesterday, ” June huffs, shooting daggers at the both of them while peeling away the pistachio shells for her drunken boyfriend. 
“Hey! You said that no one would catch us.” Kalia slaps the back of Mingyu’s head, causing him to wince. 
“First of all ouch, second of all, I didn’t know that anyone would go that far back into the library!” Mingyu defends himself.
“Actually, the two of us were trying to do the same thing, but we saw you and dipped,” Jun confesses in his drunken state, while he munches on the pistachios June had been feeding him.
“Ha! Take that June, you're just as bad as us, if not worse,” Kalia gibes, sticking her tongue out at June. 
“Actually, all of you are equally as corny, end of discussion,” Leigh chirps, his eyes rolling as Lynne, his twin sister, cackles beside him. Both evidently fed up with the ‘who’s the cheesier couple’ argument. 
Amidst all the bickering, you take a sip of your drink, eyes glimmering with admiration. It seemed so simple for your friends to find someone who truly loved them, and wasn’t afraid to show it. 
Wonwoo had been at the forefront of your mind for so long that you had denied yourself anyone else. You had been so set on making Wonwoo your end goal when you could’ve found someone who would’ve treated you better. Reminders of all your missed opportunities left a bitter taste in your mouth, the alcohol on your tongue sweet in comparison.
“Something on your mind?” Lynne breaks you out of your thoughts. 
With your glass pushed down onto the sticky bar table, you give her a crooked smile that feels less disingenuous than the previous smiles you have been producing these past few months. 
“Kinda wondering when I’ll have something like those goofballs over there,” you chuckle bitterly, head motioning to the two girls fake arguing while their boyfriends sat there cluelessly. 
“I thought you were dating Wownoo?” Lynne asks, and you couldn’t help but laugh at your pitiful situation. 
His face flashes briefly within your mind, and you’d almost forgotten that you had chosen not to speak to him, for how long? You weren’t sure. It could be days or months, or until you’ve finally healed from your one-sided heartbreak. 
“No… no. He and I were just close friends,” your tone is melancholic. Lynne’s worry is transparent as she squeezes your shoulder. 
Desolation filled your senses regardless of the bar patrons' exuberant chatter. Your group of friends were all in their own worlds while you were troubled and inattentive. There was guilt gnawing at your insides. You didn’t want this to be one of those talks where you delve into the intricacies of your peculiar friendship with Wonwoo. 
“And that's okay, too. I'm not sure what happened, but he’s an idiot if he can’t see what's right in front of him,” she affirmed as you sat there, relieved that she didn’t press the situation further. 
“Tell me about it, it feels like everyone's been saying the same thing,” you mutter. 
Overhearing your conversation, Lynne’s twin brother couldn’t help but jump in, “Wonwoo’s a dumbass.” 
Lynne gives him a pointed look, but can’t help but laugh at her brother's antics.  Feathery giggles leave your throat too, finding Leigh’s unexpected declaration amusing. 
“Sorry, I had to put my two cents in, he kinda sucks! As a friend he’s okay I guess, but as a boyfriend, girl, you’re better off without him,” Leigh puts his hands up in defence, but there was truth behind his statement. 
“True, I’ve seen what he’s done to some of the girls on campus, total—,” Lynne begins, only for her sentence to be cut off. 
“Red flag,” Leigh finishes Lynne’s proclamation. 
Twin telepathy, you assumed.
“Hey, I’ll cheers to that,” you shook your head with a chuckle, taking three shot glasses before topping them up with a bottle of tequila Mingyu had bought for the table. 
“What! You guys are taking shots without us?” Jun whined before filling his glass with liquor. 
The whole table's attention is on the three of you now, joining in on the rounds of shots going around. The clangour of glassware chimes throughout the carved-out space of the bar you and your friends had claimed for the night. 
“Wonwoo’s an asshole!” Leigh blurted out loud before throwing back the alcohol in his cup. 
There's a moment of silence amongst the rest of your friends at the table, before they all burst out laughing before repeating Leigh’s words. 
“Wonwoo’s an asshole!” They all say wholeheartedly in unison. 
The gleam in everyone’s eyes caused warmth to swell all over your body. Nothing could compare to moments like these, and you desperately hoped that the night wouldn’t end. The reassurance that your friends had given you should’ve been worth the pain of cutting Wonwoo off. Praying that their effort to cheer you up wouldn’t be wasted on foolish decisions you desperately wanted to make; the yearning for Wonwoo has only skyrocketed and it frightens you to the core.
 No matter how distracted you attempt to make yourself, he still floods your every waking thought. 
two. 
 Since your decision to ignore Wonwoo, Seokmin has been coming over to your place a lot more often. You can’t recollect when it started to happen, but you're not opposed to his company. It’s quite the opposite actually; if anything he’s made your days a lot brighter, keeping you distracted from your urge to text Wonwoo. 
The time you spent with Seokmin mostly consisted of him trying to get you to finish the whole Harry Potter series with him. When you told him you’ve never seen the movies before, he had a comical look of shock painted over his face. Hands slapped against his cheeks, eyes wide they almost popped out of the sockets, type of comical. 
“Not even the first movie?! Not even on Halloween during elementary school?” Seokmin gasps, hands on your shoulders, trying to gauge what you did and didn’t know about the infamous films. 
“Yes! Not even when I was a kid, is it bad that I haven’t watched it?” 
“It's not just bad, this is almost criminal,” Seokmin sighs, feigning distraught. 
You chortle at his remark, baffled by how seriously passionate he is about Harry Potter, which ended almost ten years ago, you might add. 
“Well, there’s only one thing we can do,” he shakes his head, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. We’re going to binge-watch this thing until you're caught up.” 
“What? Isn’t that a bit much? There are like a bajillion movies,” you exasperate. 
Not wanting to hear another complaint from you, Seokmin shushes you dramatically. His pointer finger was in front of your lips before you could get another word in. 
“I'll get the snacks. You sit here and get comfy because you’re in for a ride,” Seokmin asserts before standing to grab food and drinks from your kitchen. 
An audible sigh leaves your lips, arms crossed as you pull the blanket over yourself to “get comfy” just as Seokmin wanted. 
A few minutes passed before Seokmin returned to the living room, a bowl of microwave popcorn perched on his side and two cans of soda cradled in his other arm. 
“You left your phone on the counter, by the way,” He mentions before placing it on the coffee table. 
“Oh! Thanks, I didn’t even realize,” you smile, shifting to make room for him on the couch. 
“You ready for the greatest movie experience ever?” Seokmin beamed, plopping back into his seat beside you. 
“Sure, but we can only watch the first two,” you bargained with him, knowing that if he had it his way, you two would be up till sunrise. 
Seokmin rolled his eyes jokingly, pretending to be annoyed with your lack of enthusiasm. Despite his antics, he agrees with your compromise. The movie begins to play and you let yourself relax in his presence. A bowl of popcorn is shared between you two while he wraps his hand over your shoulder. Not used to the proximity between you and him, you're thankful the increased volume drowned out the pitter-patter of your heartbeat. 
“Well that was a lot better than I expected,” you admit. 
Although you were uncertain about watching the movies at first, you had acknowledged the hype around the Harry Potter franchise. Seokmin had caught all your facial expressions while watching, peering over to catch your reactions during all the major plot points. You had been so obviously absorbed in it that you didn’t realize he had been staring.
“I told you! It just gets better from here. The Goblet of Fire is my favourite, you’ll love it,” Seokmin marvels, wanting to indulge in his interests with you. 
“Tom Riddle is kinda cute, I won’t lie.” 
“But he’s evil…and you know he gets ugly anyways. He’s literally Voldemort!” Seokmin disputed with a stare of mild disgust. 
“Yeah, I know, but there’s a bunch of attractive villains, like Killmonger from Black Panther,” you shrug, but Seokmin looks at you like you had just insulted his entire bloodline with your statement. 
Giggling, you didn’t expect him to take your opinions so seriously. 
“Fine. I won't say anything else. You go take your shower, and I’ll clean up,” he ushers you toward your room while holding the empty bowl in his hands. 
“How did you know that I was gonna take a shower?” you ask with curiosity. 
“I’ve known you for so long, you always take a shower before bed,” Seokmin explained nonchalantly.  
Heat radiated off your face, and your timid expression would’ve been visible if Seokmin’s back wasn’t facing you. You hadn’t realized how well Seokmin knew you.
“Thanks for cleaning up, I won’t be long,” you give him a smile of gratitude before heading over to your bathroom. 
The more time you spend with Seokmin, the more you regret falling for Wonwoo. Seokmin is kind and doting, and he never causes you to feel any worry. He is the prime example of home, reminiscent of a warm fire while snuggled up on the couch with a pile of blankets.
 Seokmin feels safe. The safe choice, the smart choice. 
Unfortunately, you were too foolish to have known sooner. Your irrevocable love for Wonwoo overshadowed all the possibilities of being with Seokmin. 
A knock on your front door brings you out of your spiralling thoughts. But before you head over to open the door, Seokmin beats you to it. 
“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” you call out from your bathroom, not bothering to leave. 
“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin half yelled from where he stood. 
There was a moment of doubt in your mind, why would your neighbour want to borrow something so late into the night? Instead of investigating further, you leave it to Seokmin to help them, too tired to talk to anyone else for the rest of the evening. 
“Okay!” is all you say. 
You turn on the shower, allowing the steam to congregate and relax your senses. As you step in, you grant the warm water the ability to wash away your conflicting thoughts about both Seokmin and Wonwoo. 
after the fight. 
“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”
The bile in your throat stings, the corner of your eyes wet with tears. You didn’t expect Wonwoo to burst in here accusing you of things you wouldn’t dare do. There’s a familiar hollow feeling in your chest as you recollect how much of your heart you laid bare for him to witness. 
Had you known that ignoring him would lead to an outburst of unrelenting anger, you wouldn’t have done so in the first place. Even when this cologne hangs in the still air of your apartment, you yearn for his presence. Even when you unleashed your fury at him, kicking him out with no remorse, you still yearn for his touch. 
There hadn’t been many fights between the two of you, only enough to count on one hand. It would be petty arguments over stupid things. Arguments that would lead to one of you apologizing before the day was over. This fight seems different. It can’t be resolved with a quick ‘I’m sorry’. 
Defeated and tired, you move to your bed. Your phone sits atop the dresser. Curious and wishing for Wonwoo to just return and apologize, you click his contact. You almost feel like you are in some fever dream, the words ‘you’ve blocked this number’ staring back at you in flashing red. 
Horrified by the sight of your phone screen, you don’t remember blocking him in the first place. Wracking your brain, you’re trying to think of all the instances where you had been drunk or high enough to even do so, but nothing comes to mind. If you didn’t block him, then who did? 
You unblock his contact as quickly as possible, not wanting to create even more distance between you, although it might be too late to rectify the situation. A few messages were sent shortly after the fight had gone down. 
[2:55 a.m.]  [wons <3: idk if you’ll receive this but i’m sorry darling. i mean it.] [wons <3: i didn’t mean what i said earlier. i was just so angry. when ure ready to talk, lmk.]
Wonwoo’s text brings a swell of comfort within you. As much as you hate what he did, you could never bring yourself to hate him. 
three.
“You know, I’m kinda glad you’re here,” you professed. 
The harrowed walls of your home became a lot more bearable now that you had someone other than yourself inside them. The entire place felt far too big for you, especially because you tend to sit alone with your thoughts too often. 
Seokmin coming over to hang out was not part of your initial plan. But his unannounced visit wasn’t unwelcomed either. He was extremely talented in distracting you with his sporadic outbursts of energy and laughter. Seokmin made you feel quaint, almost as if he could be the ‘someone’ after everything you had been through with Wonwoo. 
With crescent-shaped eyes that appeared when his smile broadened, Seokmin wrapped his arm tautly against your shoulder. 
“I honestly just came over to check on how you were doing, after everything that happened, but I don’t mind staying for a while, I’d do anything if you asked.” 
“Are you flirting with me, Lee Seokmin?” 
Seokmin threw his head back with a hearty contagious laugh. Before you knew it, you were laughing along with him. 
The voice in the back of your head hissed symphonies of how easier your life would’ve been if you had just fallen in love with Seokmin instead. No matter how many times you tried to unearth a flaw of his, nothing comes to mind. There were so many signs leading you toward him, and how perfect he would be for you. But your heart still belongs elsewhere, even after what has been said and done. 
Seokmin’s eyes dimmed, “Would it be so bad if I was?” 
Taken aback by his words, your mouth opens and closes, trying to figure out whether he’s joking or genuine about his statement. 
“I-I guess not,” you mumble, watching the way his gaze shifts from your eyes down to your lips. 
Holding your breath, you can’t deny the tension that the two of you had created. Bodies practically meshed together on the couch, you weren’t sure how you ended up in this position but if Seokmin was the answer to distracting you from the fight with Wonwoo, who were you to deny him? 
“I really want to kiss you,” Seokmin confesses. 
“I wouldn’t stop you if you did.” 
Seokmin didn’t need much convincing after what you had professed. Swinging your legs over his lap, he grapples you into a position that has you straddling his thighs. The swiftness of his movements almost caused a yelp to leap out of your throat, but he steadied you before you could let out another noise.
With the faintest of touch, Seokmin places his lips over yours. Ever so cautious, ever so careful, he clearly wants to savour the moment. Despite his heedfulness, you were the exact opposite. You want it to be fast, you want him to be rough. 
There’s deliberate fervour behind your actions, causing Seokmin to groan in surprise. Rough palms gripping your waist, he matches your energy. The world sinks into a deep void along with the cruel songstress who refused to let you neglect your feelings for Wonwoo. 
Even though you have the desire to prolong your make-out with Seokmin, your phone buzzes against the plush cushions of your couch. Practically jumping out of his lap, you unlock your phone as if you weren’t just making out with Seokmin, to discover yet another text from Wonwoo. 
Every time his contact appears on your screen, your heart can’t help but skip a beat. It angers you how easily enraptured you are by something so minuscule. Even after you had kicked him out of your house that night, you can’t deny his diligence and how desperate he is for forgiveness. 
You almost wanted to curse him out for his audacity, but the other half wanted to give in and let him explain. Eyes glued to his messages, you find yourself reading them over and over again, your heart swollen with an aching desire to talk to him again. 
[11:09 p.m.]  [wons <3: hi. ik ur still mad but let me make it up to you. please?]  [wons <3: i don’t know what i have to do to make u forgive me but just know i don’t want us to end on this note.]  [wons <3: please darling, u mean so much to me, i don’t wanna lose u.]  [wons <3: i can’t stand this. please, just give me a chance to make things right] 
Only a fool would be swooning over his visible cry out for attention, and a fool you were.  Wonwoo’s claws have sunk so deep into you, that you can’t even kiss someone without him interrupting. It's like he knew what you were doing without even seeing you. 
“I thought you blocked him?” the inflection of disappointment apparent in Seokmin’s voice. 
Plopping your phone back down on the sofa, your brain finally registers the words that Seokmin had just uttered. You know for a fact that it wasn’t you who blocked his contact, but how the hell did Seokmin know?
 Unless he was the one to do so… 
A moment of realization struck you like a bolt of lightning, and the confusion finally cleared by the slip of Seokmin’s tongue. Why would he block Wonwoo’s contact on your phone? 
Attempting to recall when and where this could’ve happened, you remember the day you left your phone on the kitchen counter during the Harry Potter movie marathon. The burn at the back of your throat intensified as awareness sunk into your whole being. Seokmin was under the guise of a doting friend while you were in your feelings for Wonwoo. Pretending to be your knight in shining armour while you were in a vulnerable state. How could you be so naive? 
Wonwoo had been trying to tell you the truth, but you foolishly snubbed all his warnings out of anger. 
Nauseous and betrayed, you didn’t know that Seokmin would turn out to be the one to manipulate you, to sway your opinions to gain your time and affection. You’re so shaken up from your revelation that you almost forget who exactly is sitting right in front of you. 
“I’m really sorry Seokmin, but that kiss. I wasn’t thinking straight,” you attempt to act calm, not wanting to escalate the situation. 
“It’s okay, I understand. It's only been a week,” he shrugs with a rueful demeanour, “You’re still in love with him and there's not a lot I can do to change your mind.” 
“You’re right, there isn’t,” you reply with certainty. “I've been in love with him for years, and that’s not going to change for a while.” 
“I just want you to know I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
“I can’t do that to you knowing I still love him,” you disclose and hurt flashes across Seokmin’s eyes. 
“I understand.” 
“I hope so, considering you had gone on my phone behind my back and blocked his contact.” 
Shock is the best way to describe Seokmin’s reaction. He probably hadn’t realized that you figured out where his true intentions lie. But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but stand your ground. 
Seokmin doesn’t deserve to be in your presence right now, especially after he took advantage of your vulnerability. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seokmin tries to respond nonchalantly, but his eyes frantically avoid your gaze. 
“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you grit, your knuckles were straining from how hard you gripped onto your phone. Displacing your anger before it was shot full throttle and onto Seokmin’s face.
“Fine. You caught me. But there wasn’t any other way for you to forget him if you kept in contact with him. Even if you weren’t explicitly answering his texts.” 
Standing up and stalking over to your door, you open it to usher Seokmin out of the home. 
“That’s for me to decide. Not you. Now please leave.” 
Without much defiance, Seokmin leaves, evidently hurt by your anger towards him. The frown on his face deepened while he grabbed all his things, and walked out your door.
 As he leaves, he utters his last words, clearly miffed by your decision to kick him out. 
“I may be in love with you just as much as you are with Wonwoo, but at least I’m not dumb enough to go back to someone who obviously doesn’t give a shit about me. Your life will get easier when you stop being an idiot and start seeing how bad he is for you.” 
… 
The unsavoury memories of earlier had you deep in thought, especially after the statement Seokmin had made. He was supposed to be your safe space, but he ruined it with his need to cut Wonwoo out of your life for you. Yet there was clear wisdom to what he had said. Wonwoo only complicated your life and feelings further.  
Everything would be so simple if it were Seokmin instead, and you acknowledge that. But your heart didn’t seek out his touch the way it did with Wonwoo. 
 Seokmin let his feelings get in the way of what could’ve been the start of something good. If only he hadn’t done what he did, maybe if he had just given you more time to heal, things between the two of you would be different. Although the friendship with Seokmin had turned sour, he still deserves someone who would love him unconditionally, it just wasn’t you. 
 Wonwoo was the person you truly wanted, and although the break and argument between you two were enlightening, you cannot deny how right he is about Seokmin. 
You also cannot deny how much you still miss him. 
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Can’t Get You.
chapter one. 
“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost so much of myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you.” 
You are an enigma inside Wonwoo’s mind, and it was the first time in a while that he had experienced deep regret and grief. Forcing himself into your home to accuse you all because of his resentment towards Seokmin, he couldn’t have been less irrational. And now he had to face the consequences of his actions.  
Sleepless night after sleepless night, he had no way to make up for what he had done to you. Years of cluelessly assuming that you only ever saw him as a friend, of using you as a crutch for his anguish. He had been so unfair, and there's a sense of exasperation he cannot disenthrall. 
Wonwoo is supposed to be your friend as much as you were his, but he dared to treat you as his therapist, his support system. If he hadn’t been so blind to your feelings, none of this would’ve happened. Maybe he would’ve been able to reciprocate your feelings earlier if he had known that you were in love with him this whole time. 
The buzz of a notification illuminates his dim bedroom, the light of his screen creating shadows that harboured his contrition. He had half the mind to answer, but after what he had said to you that day, he knew it wasn’t going to be you. 
Wonwoo decided to take a look anyway. 
[12:09 a.m.] 
[darling <3: you were right about seokmin]
[darling <3: that doesn’t mean i forgive u. i just thot id let u know]
With his heartbeat hammering inside his chest, Wonwoo couldn’t contain his elation. It’s been so long since he’d seen your name on his phone screen, and despite the context not being ideal, he decided to look at the brighter side. 
Although he’s not sure what had gone down between you and Seokmin, Wonwoo couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he knows is that he was right to warn you, and he has a chance to have you all for himself once again. Without the worry of Seokmin interrupting his plans.
[12:10 a.m.] 
[wons <3: i’ve missed you, darling] 
[wons <3: i know i’ve been a bad friend in the past, but i want to show u that i can change. please]
[wons <3: i promise, i'm going to be better]
Desperation was never Wonwoo’s thing, but if it meant having you in his arms once again, then nothing else matters. If he’s perceived as pathetic for trying to gain your trust again, then so be it. 
Eyes glued to his phone screen, he observes how your grey chat bubble appears and disappears again. The anticipation of what you’re going to say next has Wonwoo on the edge of his bed, wishing he could just peer into your mind, to catch a mere glimpse into what you’re thinking. 
[12:14 a.m.] [darling <3: 👍] 
There’s an immediate drop in Wonwoo’s smile, he’s never experienced you acting indifferent towards him. The feeling is so foreign he has no choice but to find some way to get rid of it. You had given a sliver of hope just by texting him, and that was all he needed. Wonwoo is your best friend, he knows you better than anyone, he knows you better than Seokmin. 
Apathetic towards the lengths he may have to go to to bring you back into his life, Wonwoo is determined to make you forgive him. Even if it meant abandoning his pride or his ego, he didn’t care anymore. Everything else is meaningless if you’re not his. 
two. 
The next time Wonwoo is forced to be in a room with Seokmin is the day Jeonghan decides to have an impromptu study session in the library. Unbeknownst to him, the person he has grown to hate would be there too. The tension was increasingly palpable to the point that both Jeonghan and Leigh found it difficult to focus on their work. 
“Why are you here?” Wonwoo queried with a scrutinizing gaze. 
The sound of uncomfortable shuffling is pronounced within the long pause of Seokmin and Wonwoo’s staredown. And Jeonghan gives Leigh a look of curiosity with a hint of confusion. They were obviously under the impression that the two of them were good friends, especially because no one had a clue about what happened between them. 
“Jeonghan invited me to study, why? Is it illegal for me to be here?” Seokmin quipped, evidently unamused by Wonwoo’s presence. 
Wonwoo scoffs, chair legs scraping against the hardwood as he takes his seat. 
“It should be.” 
Seokmin huffs before crossing his arms over his chest, taking a guarded stance. Various textbooks cluttered around the table, long forgotten in favour of watching Seokmin and Wonwoo bicker. 
“What’s up with those two?” Jeonghan whispers in Leigh’s ear, which the latter only shrugs in response. 
Wonwoo and Seokmin were lost in their world of conflict, and neither paid attention to their two observers. They were both ready to pull out bowls of popcorn amid their studying, which seemed more entertaining than whatever they were reading earlier. 
“Not sure. I bet you ten dollars it has something to do with you know who…,” Leigh whispers back, obviously amused by his friends' clear disdain for each other. 
“I’ll bet you ten dollars and a kiss Wonwoo did something to piss off Seokmin,” Jeonghan challenges his deal. 
Leigh giggles at how Jeonghan takes every opportunity to flirt with him but agrees to his wager anyway. 
“What does a kiss have to do with any of this?” 
“Nothing, I just wanted to give you one,” Jeonghan shrugs. 
Their conversation is cut off by Seokmin’s need to curse out Wonwoo, standing up from the table only to poke his finger into the elder's chest. 
“I hope you know that if you pursue her, you’ll only end up hurting her,” Seokmin accused, causing Wonwoo to flare with outrage.
Wonwoo isn’t pleased by Seokmin’s intrepid need to provoke him. From what you texted him the other day, it’s unmistakably clear that he has the upper hand. This means that Seokmin’s vexation is only a projection of the fact that his plan has gone awry. 
“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a manipulative bitch, she wouldn’t have come back running to me,” Wonwoo smirks, the realization in Seokmin’s eyes is nothing but confirmation that he struck a nerve. 
Seokmin is left baffled by Wonwoo’s statement, “You seriously cannot be talking right now.”
“Oh, but I am. I may have done wrong before, but at least I know how to get her back,” Wonwoo retorted.  
Thankfully, the library wasn’t traditional in the sense that students had to be quiet while using the space. Most passersby' barely batted an eyelash as the two men were raised from their seats while in a heated argument. 
The bitter taste in Wonwoo’s mouth only intensified the more time he wasted quarrelling with Seokmin. There are better things he can do with his time, like finding a way for you to forgive him. But he can’t help that every time he lays eyes on Seokmin, the only thing he can think of doing is socking his so-called friend in the face. 
“We’ll see who she ends up with in the end, and I’ll make sure it isn’t you,” Wonwoo finalizes. 
Deciding that he is done exchanging words with Seokmin, he leaves before he wastes any more of his time. The bag hooked on his shoulder was still unopened since their fight started before he could even retrieve his things. Harsh footsteps echo throughout the bustling library, and Wonwoo makes it his mission to find you. To have you in his hold before Seokmin could even think of getting near you. 
Three o’clock. On Wednesdays, your anthropology lecture always ends at three o’clock. Wonwoo knew you wouldn’t be pleased to see him inside the arts building, waiting right outside the lecture hall. But he had to take his chance, or else Seokmin might find a way to weasel into your life once again. Just the thought of it made Wonwoo’s ears flare red. No one deserves to have you as much as he did. 
The rush of students begins to trickle into the hallway, and he spots the top of your head before you stray too far away. With a shout of your name, he watches as you try to find the voice that has been calling out for you. 
Suddenly, the world around Wonwoo lacks colour as his gaze sets upon you. Standing there, you shine brightly, and Wonwoo couldn’t care less how stupid he looked while trying to gain your attention. The people around him are nothing but blockages that stop him from being able to grab onto you. Your expression is filled with curiosity as he waves his hand, beckoning you closer to him. Despite the obvious conflicting thoughts that are running through your head, Wonwoo knows you won’t be able to resist him. 
As you near, Wonwoo almost sighs with content, hearing your voice for the first time since that night. 
“What are you doing here?” 
The two of you wedged into one of the corners, waiting for the crowd to thin out. Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo pulls you against him. Your back is flush with the wall; the rest of the students push past the both of you to get to their next class or to go home. 
“Wanted to be the one to give you a ride home,” Wonwoo mutters truthfully, but he knows that’s not why you’re asking. 
He watches the way you gulp, trying not to get caught up in the heat of his body. You’re so close to him that if he makes one slight movement he could end up kissing you. The feathery breath you let out almost causes Wonwoo to forget what he’s meant to be doing. Enamoured by your soft pink lips and how the heat on your cheeks intensifies with each passing moment. He simply can’t take his eyes off you. 
It seems as though you're making Wonwoo fall for you without even realizing it. 
The delightful scrunch in your brow only leaves him tingling, satisfied with the fact that you two are in such proximity after everything that happened. Although Wonwoo knows he has a long way to go to gain your forgiveness, he allows himself to enjoy the smaller moments with you while he can. 
“I can walk,” you retort, recoiling out of his grasp before walking over to the exit. 
“Walking is fine too,” Wonwoo attested, catching up with your fast pace. 
“Alone,” you reiterate. 
Wonwoo is amused by your direct attempt to get him to leave you alone. He almost laughs, you should know him well enough by now. What Wonwoo wants, he gets, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad at him. He’s confident enough in himself to know that he’s capable of making you fall for him all over again. 
If there’s one thing Wonwoo is unmistakably good at, it’s the chase. 
With his experience, it doesn’t take much for you to be perched right back into his palm. You’re a woman after all. The only difference between you and everyone else is that Wonwoo can envision a future with you in it, which has always been hard for him to do. But with you, Wonwoo can only wish that he could live till he’s a thousand if it meant that he could spend the rest of that time with you. 
“Please darling, let me take you home,” Wonwoo begs, his slender fingers grasped against your wrist. “You’re probably tired from walking around campus all day.” 
He could practically see the way the gears were turning in your head like you couldn’t decipher his underlying motives, and he couldn’t help but grin at your obvious overthinking.
“Fine, but you’re giving me a ride. That’s it.” 
The smile on Wonwoo’s face widens as you try to act uninterested, but he knows deep down your resolve is beginning to weaken.  
three. 
Wonwoo can only surmise that his plan has been taking effect. Not only have you been less reluctant to agree to him giving you a ride to and from school, but you’ve also been replying to his texts more frequently. Albeit they haven’t been the same long and sporadic messages you used to send, Wonwoo can’t seem to complain.
[5:05 p.m.]  [wons <3: u got home alright darling?] [darling <3: u drove me home.] [wons <3: ik. but i still wanna ask] [darling <3: i should be asking u that] [darling <3: not that i care tho] [wons <3: sure u dont]  [darling <3: i don't! now bye i have to study for my quiz tmrw]  [wons <3: okayy wtv helps u sleep at night 😆]  [wons <3: dont study too hard. ill pick u up tmrw at the same time ok?]  [darling <3: 👍] 
Smiling like a kid on Christmas, Wonwoo can’t help but feel the rush of butterflies flutter in his stomach. He can tell you’re trying to put on a detached facade, but your caring nature seems to be slipping through the cracks. 
His plan to slowly reinstate himself into your life seems to be working. Even though he understands it won’t happen overnight, Wonwoo doesn’t mind waiting for you to forgive him. At least he knows that he’s one step closer than Seokmin ever will be. 
“Good morning,” Wonwoo greets you, moving to the side to open the door. 
As you slip into the passenger seat, he realizes how much he misses you sitting beside him. You were always in your world while he drove, staring at the window reading all the signs along the way, or humming softly to the lyrics of the current song playing. 
“Morning,” you mumble back, settling into your spot. 
It’s that time of the year when all the leaves start to fall off the branches. The pavement was littered with hues of brown, red, and yellow. Wonwoo loved autumn the most out of all the seasons. It reminded him of the smell of cinnamon and warm cups of tea. Most importantly, it was autumn when he first met you. 
“You ready for your quiz?” Wonwoo decides to fill the silence. 
As you turn your body, you give him a soft smile, and he knows with that expression, that you probably didn’t get much studying done the night before. He chuckles at your meek countenance, you’ve always been the type to procrastinate. 
“I know that look. Don’t worry, you’re the smartest person I know,” Wonwoo reassures you. 
The right hand he had gripping the steering wheel strays from its place, seeking your hold. Allowing himself to take a glance at you before interlocking his fingers with yours, rubbing soothing circles along your delicate skin. Sensing you freeze upon his touch, Wonwoo’s hands almost break out in a sweat, hoping you won’t pull away. And surprisingly, you don't. 
Both of you returned to a relaxed state, and he’s overjoyed that you’ve decided to allow him to touch you again. Even if it’s something as innocent as hand-holding on the way to school. Wonwoo squeezes your hand tighter, reminding himself that you’re still beside him. That you chose to be with him. 
It wasn’t long before the campus university was in Wonwoo’s view. Pulling into his parking spot, he does so without letting go of your hand once. Even when turning the gear shift into park, his hold on you has yet to be relinquished. 
There’s a pause of silence that Wonwoo decides to break. 
“I know it’s not going to be easy to forgive me, I’ve done so many things that, if I was in your position, wouldn’t have let slide. But I’m asking for a chance, just one chance to show you that I can be better,” Wonwoo confesses. 
He observes that way you take time to think, his thumb continuing to rub mindless circles into your skin. Wonwoo didn’t think he’d be so nervous to hear what you had to say, or if you would say anything at all. 
“Just be patient with me, okay?” is the only thing you end up saying. 
To Wonwoo, that’s a win. You didn’t deny his request for forgiveness, and that can only mean one thing. His plan is working just as he’d hoped. 
“Take all the time you need, darling. I just want to be close to you again,” Wonwoo reassures you, his voice stable and comforting. He searches your eyes for even an ounce of unease. 
Nodding your head, you finally loosen your hand from Wonwoo’s. As you step out of the car you leave with one final remark. 
“I'll see you after class okay?” 
That was all the assurance that Wonwoo needed. He’s convinced that he’s a step in the right direction. You’ve fallen for him once again, perhaps not fully, but soon enough you’ll be back to where the two of you had left off. 
… 
When Wonwoo gets to see you again, it’s to drop off your cognitive psych textbook. By the time he realized it was on the floor bed of his car, it was already too late to give it back to you.
As he returns to the same long hallway, he nears your apartment with a sense of unease. Flashbacks of what happened the last time he even stepped foot into the building flood his memories. Wonwoo had no reason to be nervous, especially because you’ve become more lenient about him seeing you again. But this is different, he can’t help but wonder if you’re over that night, or you’re just allowing him to enter your life again because it was easier. 
The sound of him knocking on the door reverberates through the empty hallway, and a chill shoots down his spine. Why is he so nervous? He’s been here more times than he could count, and above all that he’s only here to return your textbook. 
From the other side of the door, he can faintly hear your footsteps as you make your way over. A hand clasped around the thick spine of your book, he grips it harder as he awaits your arrival. 
“Hi?” you greet him with a puzzled expression. 
The breath in Wonwoo's throat evaporates into thin air, his eyes glued to the curve of your body. It’s the same sleep set you wore the night he saw Seokmin leave your apartment. Trapped in his mind, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Plush thighs hugged tightly by your shorts, no bra in sight, allowing your nipples to outline the satin. With a tense gulp, he knows he can’t stay for long. 
“H-hey, uh, you forgot your textbook in my car,” Wonwoo stutters, eyes raking over your figure. 
What the hell? Wonwoo’s seen you in everything under the sun, including a bathing suit. But why does this damn sleep set have him tripping over his words? 
Before he can say anything more, you move forward to grab the book from his hands. Your hair flows over your shoulder while the strap of your tank top slips down. 
Shoulders stiffening at the sight, Wonwoo really can’t stay. He might even combust into a million pieces before he can get to his car. 
“Thanks.” 
“It’s really no problem, sorry I’m here so late. You’re—” his words are cut off by your unexpected proposition.  
“You wanna come in? I’m making some tea.” 
Wonwoo is completely fucked, though he doesn’t stop himself from entering your home. 
As you turn around, Wonwoo almost lets out a strained groan. He had been lucky enough to cover it up with a cough. You shoot him a confused look over your shoulder, and he mumbles a curt “It’s nothing” before you can question him further. 
The scent of peppermint tea engulfs his senses, your favourite. It was your routine to drink a cup of tea before bed, but peppermint has always been your go-to. He only knew this because his mom always made sure to send you boxes of a loose-leaf version from your hometown. You didn’t drink any other kind. 
There’s a sway in your hips as you move over to the kitchen counter and Wonwoo’s lost in a hypnotic state. Taking a seat at the island, he watches as you grab two of the coffee mugs from your cupboard. As you move to reach for the glassware, he observes the way your shorts ride up, giving him a direct view of the curve of your ass. He felt like a pervert for staring but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. 
“Here, let me get them for you,” Wonwoo offers, moving behind you to retrieve the two mugs. His body is perfectly aligned with yours, he can feel you stiffen against him. 
A rough palm is placed delicately against the exposed skin of your waist. You’re so warm. Wonwoo’s brain short circuits and he almost forgets what he’s actually meant to do. He holds you tighter against him while the handles of the cups are hooked against his fingers. With as much delicateness as possible, he situates the mugs against the granite. 
The soft “thank you” that left your lips was almost too faint for either of you to hear, but due to the stillness in the atmosphere, Wonwoo heard you loud and clear. 
With reluctance, Wonwoo leaves his spot behind you to return to his seat. He continues to watch you as you prepare the tea, and he’s never been more mesmerized in his life. It was almost criminal how closely he examined your actions, but you had become so captivating. It would be rude to deny the pleasure of being able to see you again. 
“This one’s for you,” you mutter, setting the mug in front of his person. 
“Thanks.” 
A comfortable silence blankets the two of you. Your hand around your cup, savouring the tea while you scroll aimlessly on your phone. Wonwoo allows his thoughts to wander. It almost felt sinful to be inside your apartment once again, compelling him to apologize once more. 
“I know I've already said it before but, I hope you know I’m not going to let this second chance be taken for granted. What I did was wrong, and I was so angry and confused that I didn’t even think about what I was saying.” 
Looking up from your phone, a frown is apparent on your angelic face. But you don’t say anything, allowing him to continue with his admission of guilt. 
“There are so many things I could’ve done differently, but I let my anger get the best of me. You’re the most important person in my life and I don’t want to let you go. I know I’m terrible at showing how much I care but I want you to know that deep down inside of me my love for you is there. You’re my greatest friend and I was a dumbass for not treating you that way earlier on.” 
There’s a pregnant pause in the air before you respond. Wonwoo’s nerves are spiking, but he waits diligently for your reply. 
“I understand that you’re sorry. And I wish that things had gone differently. I’m sure that night was a lot for both of us. Seokmin wasn’t the person I thought he was, and it sucks that you were right but I wanna move forward. It just felt so wrong for you to assume that I was with him in that way. It hurt and it was insulting for you to talk to me that way.” 
The words that had been brewing in his mind were lost as he continued to listen to you. 
“What’s even funnier is that me and Seokmin kissed a couple of days after our fight. I’m not even sure why I did that, but I regret it. I probably just wanted to get my mind off you and all the other stuff. Honestly, I was so naive, I didn’t think Seokmin would go to such cruel lengths to manipulate me.” 
“I want to forgive you. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you either. Seokmin had put it in my head to just cut you off, and it almost felt wrong but I listened anyway. I should’ve known why he had convinced me to do all those things. I was so stupid to believe him. But I do want to fix us, I just need time.” 
To hear you talk about what Seokmin did to you, and to also find out that you two had kissed made Wonwoo’s insides churn. He felt sick at the thought of the two of you, but why? You’re his friend, he shouldn’t care about the fact that you and Seokmin shared an intimate moment. Wonwoo should only care about the fact that both he and Seokmin hurt you.
“Darling, I’m so sorry. I wish there were more ways I could show you how apologetic I am. I promise I'm going to do better.” 
There’s a glazed look over your eyes, and Wonwoo’s chest almost collapses into itself. The subtle pout on your lips causes a sigh to leave his lips. 
Standing up, he walks over to you, cooing as he deluges you into his hold. Strong arms pull you into his chest, the faint weeping coming from you almost kills him. He hates to see you sad, and what he hates even more is that he’s the one behind most of your pain. 
“I’m not going anywhere from now on. So please darling, don’t push me away anymore. I’m gonna do everything I can to show you how important you are to me,” He whispers in your ear as he runs a hand down your hair. 
Wonwoo knows how much you love it when he does that. It always calmed you down on the days you couldn’t regulate your emotions. 
Sensitive to the sad things in life yet ardent towards the things you are passionate about. You have always been a softer soul, a soul that feels everything without a care in the world. At the same time, you are a whirlwind of emotions, and different colours of sensibilities, it’s your greatest strength but also your weakness. Wonwoo admires that about you. Never afraid to feel, never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything he isn't. 
That night, Wonwoo vowed to be a better person for you. He also promised he’d never let someone like Seokmin take advantage of your kindness again. 
four. 
Despite Wonwoo’s desire to submerge his feelings into a deep void, he can’t seem to dismiss the fact that he’s slowly falling for you. It didn’t start when you had begun to ignore him, nor did it start when you decided to search for comfort in another. 
Seeking a piece of you in everyone he’s been with. It's always been in a subconscious manner, but the more he looks back on all his relationships, he’s started to realize that the one thing that was missing was you.
Falling in love with you was gradual. 
In the same way, the tides along the shore would slowly pull the sand back into the ocean. In the same way, the seasons changed from summer to winter. Wonwoo’s love for you is like autumn leaves. Shades of green morph into the familiar, comforting, yellow, red, and brown. Their descent from their branches slowed, dwindling with the breeze before they ultimately hit the ground. Before he knew it, autumn had begun. 
Before he knew it, he was in love. 
Everything over the past month had just been a wake-up call. Slowly rising from an insomnious state, he began to find clarity in his past actions, in his reasons for wondering why none of the relationships worked out in his favour. No one understood him the way you did, and no one understood you the way he did. And he had been foolish enough to not act upon those realizations sooner.  
… 
Wonwoo ached to see you again. To be close to you, with your scent filling his nostrils, your warmth engulfing him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Yet he sat in the library trying to make sense of his pending assignment. Mingyu sits across from him, looking close to slamming his forehead with his textbook. 
Wonwoo couldn’t care less about regression to the mean or whatever it is his statistics professor is trying to teach him. Every second that passed his mind would end up wandering to thoughts of you. That night in your apartment, the whiff of peppermint tea, your arms around him as he held you close. Desperation is a dangerous emotion, for it only made him want to close his laptop and rush to your side. 
Why didn’t he just fess up about his feelings for you right then and there? He could’ve done it, but his intuition stopped him. From the start of you finally letting him back into your life, neither of you brought up your confession of being in love with him. The prospect of him even acknowledging the subject has Wonwoo believing it wouldn’t end the way he hopes. 
Attempting to suppress his curious thoughts, he’s afraid of you denying everything you disclosed to him that night. He didn’t want you to renounce your declaration of love under the guise of anger or the heat of the moment. The only thing he wanted from you now was the truth. 
“Well, you look a lot better than you did last time we were here,” Mingyu speaks up. 
Taken out of his trance, Wonwoo lifts his head from the screen of his laptop. An involuntary chuckle erupts from his chest. Despite his muddled thoughts, Mingyu is right. He looks and feels a lot better than he did before. 
“A lot of shit happened, but yeah, I guess you can say that.” 
“Hmm, let me guess. You two made up?” Mingyu doesn’t beat around the bush. 
Wonwoo is aware that Mingyu’s probably only asking to remedy his curiosity, or so he could update Kalia about the situation, but he doesn’t care. If anything, he wants everyone to know that he won you over instead of Seokmin. 
“Yeah, kinda? I don’t know. I’m trying my best to be better for her though,” Wonwoo lets out a half-hearted sigh. 
Mingyu looked at him with curiosity, and Wonwoo knew that expression a little too well. It was the ‘since when were you the type of person to change for a girl’ look. His friend didn’t have to say much for him to understand what Mingyu was attempting to convey. 
“You’re serious?” Mingyu presses, a lilt of doubt in his tone of voice. 
“Yeah, I'm serious. Never been more serious in my life,” Wonwoo scoffs, he already knows where this conversation is heading. 
Mingyu didn’t seem to buy it though, eyes rolling as he leaned back in his chair. Wonwoo crosses his arms defensively, it is typical for Mingyu to wonder where his true intentions lie. His track record wasn’t the best when it came to girls, unlike Mr. Perfect across from him. 
Mingyu knew how to deal with relationships, he’s practically married to Kalia at this point. 
Wonwoo, on the other hand, tended to obsess for a few months before inevitably breaking things off. It’s practically second nature for him to do so, but this is different. It's you. And Wonwoo knew that meant more to him despite his old habits. 
“Be for real man, I know you. Are you sure this isn’t the same as the last hundred times you’ve liked someone?” 
“Like? I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.” 
Mingyu’s eyes go wide, Wonwoo has never dropped the L–word on his friend before. Not about Haein, or any of the other girls he’s dated. 
“Woah. That's different,” Mingyu lets out a low-whistle. 
“That's what I mean. We’re not talking about just some other girl who I find interesting. This is my best friend,” Wonwoo continues to defend himself. 
It felt weird to say those words out loud for someone else to hear, but Mingyu was the only person Wonwoo didn’t feel insecure talking to despite the fact he practically criticized him during the last study session. Wonwoo needs to let his feelings out into the world, and Mingyu is willing to listen. 
“Okay, you’ve convinced me, but you better not fuck it up. I won’t punch you but I know Kalia would,” Mingyu shrugs, and he’s right. Kalia would beat him up. 
Wonwoo snorts at Mingyu’s remark, “Your girlfriend is scary.” 
“She is. Just don’t be a dumbass and she won’t kill you. You know how much Kalia cares about her.” 
��Seems like everyone does. Seokmin cares a little too much,” Wonwoo huffs, thinking back to what you had told him the last time he saw you. 
“Ah. I heard about that,” Mingyu smirks. 
Wonwoo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stick up. He didn’t particularly like the idea of you and Seokmin together. In all honesty, he doesn’t even want to see him within a hundred feet of your person. Wonwoo had half the mind to beat him to a pulp for how he hurt you, and he’s sure that Seokmin feels the same way about him. The only difference was that you had a clear choice, and Wonwoo came out on top. 
“I can’t believe him actually. He’s dead to me,” Wonwoo scowls, hating the bitter taste Seokmin’s name leaves on his tongue. 
“Dude… Seokmin is still our friend,” Mingyu attempts to mediate, like the soft-hearted man he is, but Wonwoo doesn’t care. 
“No. He’s your friend. What he did is fucked up, even for me. His dumbass is not stepping a foot near her, not if I have any say in the matter.” 
Hot on his heels, Wonwoo packs his belongings and exits the library with flames blazing his trail. Mingyu still sits there dumbfounded, recovering from the shock of his friend's crass declaration. 
five. 
[12:11 p.m.] [wons <3: meet me at our spot? i have a surprise :)]
Pacing back and forth, Wonwoo waits for you at the aforementioned spot. It’s a hidden corner on campus you two found in your first year. There were multiple wooden picnic tables scattered around the lawn of green grass, but no one seemed to come to this side of the university. It had been an alcove of secludedness for the two of you since that day. Wonwoo had spent most of his lunch breaks eating here with you when the crowds of students got too overwhelming. 
Deciding it wasn’t doing him any good walking back and forth like a madman, he takes a seat at the table you both claimed for yourselves. Even with the abundance of available picnic tables, neither of you ever sat anywhere else. The table’s location had always been perfect. Right under a large oak tree that had just the right amount of shade yet a prime amount of sunlight. The leaves had already shed, and there was no protection from the rays, but Wonwoo settled in his unassigned seat anyway. 
Inspecting the food he bought you, he made sure that it was still warm enough for you to eat. Two grilled pork banh mi’s with extra pickled vegetables wrapped securely within the plastic bag, your favourite. 
Wonwoo had no reason to buy it for you, other than the fact that as he was leaving the library in a sour mood, he was able to snag the last two from the dining hall. Thinking about the look you would have on your face once you got here made him smile to himself. So without a second thought, he paid for the sandwiches before sending you a text. 
“So what's the surprise?” 
Ears perking, Wonwoo whips his head over in the direction of your sweet voice. Skin glowing in the sunlight, he admires you with a lopsided smile. You look so good today, almost too good. The black skirt you wore flounced with each step you took, while your cardigan hung low on your shoulders. 
He wishes he could have you only for himself, finding it unfair that everyone else in the whole damn world got to admire how gorgeous you are, including himself. Wonwoo doesn’t get tired of looking at you, it’s like a breath of fresh air each time. 
“Hi, darling. There were only two left,” he nudged his head, motioning to the plastic bag that you are very familiar with. 
With glowing eyes, you let out a squeal of delight. Wonwoo knew he did something right for once. 
“Oh my god. How did you know I was craving these today? I was thinking about it all morning,” you gush, rushing over to open the bag that held your most prized possession.
“I didn’t, but I know you’d never say no to your favourite,” he chuckles. 
You didn’t even get to take a proper seat before diving into the banh mi. 
“I forgot to pack a lunch today,” you bubbled, mouth still half full with food. 
Wonwoo continues to grin, pleased with himself that something small like this brings you so much happiness. Tutting, he jokingly scolds you, wiping the cilantro that stuck to your cheek. 
“You shouldn’t talk when your mouth is full darling, you’ll choke.” 
Rolling your eyes at him, you swallow your food and take a sip of water before continuing with the conversation. 
“I woke up late today and forgot to make something for lunch, so thank you for this, I was starving,” you beam up at him, sitting cross-legged on the bench. 
“It’s a good thing I’m here then, right?” He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, not wanting it to get in the way of your eating. 
“Yeah I guess you’re right,” you mumble before taking another bite. “Fuck this is so good right now, you don’t even know.” 
Wonwoo hums, amused with your reaction before unwrapping his sandwich. Admiring his view of you, he continues to listen to you talk about how you’re absolutely in the trenches for your next cognitive psychology midterm. 
“I’m so screwed. I can’t seem to properly memorize the theories, especially the one about Piaget’s stages. It keeps getting mixed up in my head,” you mutter in between bites. 
“I wish I could help, but you're the psych major,” Wonwoo shrugs, bemused at how your cheeks resemble those of a hamster. 
“True. Enough about school, my head hurts just thinking about it,” you sigh. 
“Alright. No school. Do you have plans for the weekend, at least?” Wonwoo asks. 
Your eyes lit up at his question, and you were ready to divulge what you had going on for the end of the week. Midterms were only a few days away, and everyone was so high-strung about them. Wonwoo knew you just wanted it to be over. You’ve always been the type to hate preparing for exams. 
“Well, June, Lynne, Leigh, and I are hitting up Raval on Friday. We wanted to celebrate the start of the mid-term break,” you explain. “You can join us if you want.” 
Before either you or Wonwoo could get another word in, his phone rings obnoxiously on the table. His mom’s caller ID flashes across his screen before he accepts the call, propping it up so the both of you are within the camera lens. 
“Hi mama!” you wave excitedly, Wonwoo’s mom smiling back at you. 
There wasn’t much he was grateful for in life, but the fact that you and his mom were so close was one of those things. 
“Hey ma, what’s up?” Wonwoo greets her, the grin on his face widening. 
“Hi, my babies. I just wanted to say hi!” His mom waves her hand at the camera, trying to stay in the frame. 
“Dear, did you get your box of peppermint tea?” she asks you, Wonwoo’s gaze returning to your beautiful smile. No words could explain the happiness he felt seeing you talk to his mom. 
“Yes mama, I did, thank you so much! I’ve been drinking it every night,” you assure her, sending her flying kisses through the phone. 
“Wonwoo, treat her well while you guys are away, got it? I just wanted to check on you both real quick,” his mom chattered through the speaker. 
“Yes, ma, I know. We’re eating lunch, but I’ll call you when I get home. Love you,” Wonwoo feigns annoyance but still tells her he loves her. 
“Bye, mama! Love you,” you bid her farewell, the call beeping indicating that Wonwoo had hung up. 
For the rest of Wonwoo’s lunch break, the two of you ate your banh mi in comfortable silence. There was a silent agreement of eating and just enjoying the view of the secret spot that Wonwoo shares with you. With everyone else gone, it was perfect. 
If Wonwoo could have any superpower in the world, it would be able to stop time. He yearns for this moment to last forever. Enjoying your company in a secluded part of campus, where there’s no one to bother you, no one to question your friendship.   
He longs for more days with you like this, away from the noise, away from distractions that cause his attention to stray away from who he cares about. He only needs one thing in his life to truly feel fulfilled, and it's you.  
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act three, Hold Me by the Heart. 
chapter one. 
Despite the reconciliation between you and Wonwoo, you still find yourself doubting his actions. Did he want to change for the sake of your friendship? Or was he only putting effort knowing you had almost slipped through his fingertips? 
Warmth enveloped you every time he was around, every time he gave you small words of affirmation. Even with all these signs of growth from him, you still had that vexing churn in your gut. 
That swirl of intuition felt like you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. As much as you hate not being able to trust your best friend completely, apprehension continues to gnaw at your insides. 
“Hey? You still in there?” June interrupts your train of thought, waving her hand in front of your gaze. 
“I thought you and Wonwoo made up?” She continued to press for answers, which was typical of her. 
“We did,” you sigh, taking a sip of your Long Island iced tea. 
“Then why the long face?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just thinking too hard,” you chuckle, although there’s no humour behind it. 
June mirrors your expression, frowning alongside you as she pats your back, trying to get you out of your forlorn state. 
“That calls for another drink!” She attempts to lighten the mood, her pointer fingers poking at your smile lines, forcing a grin to grace your lips. 
Rolling your eyes at her, you agree to her proposition. Not wanting to waste your weekend on immutable thoughts of Wonwoo. He’s the only person who could make you sit around a room full of people and still feel like something, or rather, someone, was missing. 
In the back of your mind, you wonder if he remembers the confession you accidentally spilled during your fight. In the midst of all the anger, the pent-up frustration, you deliberate whether he still remembers the fleeting “I love you” that left your trembling lips that night. 
Before you could blink, June was already back in her seat. A tray of shot glasses filled with brown liquor. There was enough for everyone to take at least two. Although you know it’s not a good idea to get drunk with the negative thoughts floating within your mind, you choose to ignore your rationality for one night. 
“Wonwoo still may be an asshole, but if he makes you happy, who am I to judge?” Leigh speaks up from his seat, knocking back the shot glass till it’s empty. 
A small giggle leaves your lips, duplicating his actions and swallowing the alcohol in one go. 
“So what is the deal with you and Wonwoo now? I feel like every time I see you, he’s right behind you like some kind of brooding bodyguard,” Lynne queries, ready for you to fess up. 
The breath you take in is sharp, not knowing where to even start. The past month has gone by in a blur, too many events happening in such a short amount of time. You couldn’t even process it properly yourself, let alone recite all that has gone down to your friends. 
“Well, I may have texted him after that incident with Seokmin. And after that, it just snowballed. He started driving me to school again, eating lunch with me, apologizing every chance he got. I-I don’t even know anymore,” you inhale, not realizing that you have barely taken a chance to breathe. 
“Interesting…” Lynne mumbles, tapping on her chin as if she is deep in thought. 
“He’s just become more considerate. I don’t know why he’s decided to change, but I can’t complain because I can see the change,” you continue, defending him. After all, you knew your friends didn’t see him in a particularly positive light. 
There was a pause in the air, everyone sitting at the table still processing your defence. Even if they still hate him, you don’t really care. Yes, you care for their opinions, and you cherish their affection for you, but Wonwoo deserves a second chance in your eyes. 
“I mean… Isn’t the reason he’s even acting like this because he hated seeing you with Seokmin?” Leigh disputes, and you frown. 
There’s truth behind his statement. Wonwoo only noticed your absence because you had started hanging out with Seokmin more. But it worked in your favour, so can you even be mad? 
“Maybe. Honestly, I don’t think I care about his reasons. He's trying and that’s all that should matter, right?” you mutter, taking another shot from the tray. 
The looks on your friends’ faces say more about what they want to say to you than their words ever could. You’re disregarding Wonwoo’s toxic behaviour in hopes that this new chapter with him is more than just some facade. 
“Oh, that’s not…” Leigh whispers under his breath but doesn’t say more. 
They know they can’t change your mind. 
[11:17 p.m.]  [wons <3: still out with your friends?] 
Your screen's brightness illuminates the bar's dim lighting, bringing everyone's attention to the bubble with Wonwoo’s name clearly on display. 
“Speaking of the devil,” Lynne shakes her head as she nurses the drink in her hand. 
[11:18 p.m.] [darling <3: yeahh, we’ll probably head home after a few rounds, why?]  [wons <3: jw. have fun darling]  [darling <3: thx! ]
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather we drink till I forget everything from midterms instead of talking about Wonwoo,” June pipes up, disrupting the silence that had enveloped your group. 
As she calls for someone to bring more shots to your table, you quietly smile to yourself. Wonwoo usually was not one to text first, but it’s different now. Even if everyone else can’t stand him, you can’t help but feel the exact opposite. 
There’s a hum of agreement, and everything becomes a blur after that. The constant flow of alcohol forces you to focus on what’s in front of you. Wandering thoughts of Wonwoo are brought to a halt as you feel yourself slipping into a drunken state. 
… 
“Jun! My boyfriend is here!” June exclaims, practically walking sideways outside of Raval. It’s deep into the night at this point and your friend decided that the best person to call was her boyfriend. 
As she sways on the sidewalk, your two other friends hold you up in an attempt to keep you from falling face-first into the cement. Despite how late it was, there were still cars bustling past on the street. Jun’s car idling as he tries his best to help his girlfriend into the passenger side. 
The university town is still alive with students entering and exiting outside of the bars and restaurants as everyone celebrates the end of the week. You can only wish for Wonwoo to be here with you, but you knew he wasn’t the type to go to bars this late, opting to stay up playing League on his computer instead. 
“Hey babe, if you want, you can call Wonwoo to come pick you up,” Lynne speaks to you soothingly, obviously not as intoxicated as you are. “You’ve been mumbling his name for like ten minutes now.” 
“Wonwoo? Is he here?” 
“No. But I’m going to call him so he can get you,” she gives you a tight smile.
Pulling out your phone from her purse, and bringing the screen to your face. You widen your eyes, moving your head closer to the camera. A lopsided smile sneaks its way onto your lips as it unlocks. 
“Are you sure this is a good idea? She’s fucking gone,” Leigh chastises his sister. 
Lynne gives him an exasperated look, shrugging her shoulders. Her brother rolls his eyes in return, both defeated. They know they can’t stop you from wanting Wonwoo, plus he’s the only one who knows the code to your apartment. You’re too drunk to even unlock your phone, let alone press buttons on the keypad of your door lock. 
Hell, you can’t even stand without falling aimlessly to the ground. 
“Wonwoo? It’s Lynne. Can you come to Raval?” you barely register your friend's voice, looking off into the distance. Hoping that Wonwoo would magically appear any second from now. 
The call is dropped and they manoeuvre you onto the bench outside the entrance of the bar. Head flopping onto Leigh’s shoulder, you close your eyes. Maybe the next time you open them, Wonwoo will be standing right in front of you. 
What felt like seconds were actually ten minutes to your slightly more sober friends. Jun and June waiting diligently beside their car waiting for Wonwoo to finally arrive as the other two are constantly trying to keep you upright. 
When they agreed to have a few more shots, they didn’t expect you to take another five along with two more long islands. Regretful for their lack of heed, they had forgotten how much of a lightweight you are. 
“Oh! Fucking finally, I swear he drives like a Grandpa,” Leigh scoffs, seeing Wonwoo’s car pull up behind Jun’s. 
“Where is she?” Wonwoo's voice bellows, and it’s as if he’s near. 
With your eyes still sealed shut, you mumble incoherently to Leigh, “It’s like he’s right here. Am I that drunk that I’m imagining things?” 
“Oh my god… take her home please,” Leigh doesn’t answer your question and you’re slightly offended. 
“Hey!” you pout, finally opening your eyes as you feel someone tug you away from your source of heat. 
Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, a broad chest is the only thing within your line of sight. 
“Excuse me! I’m waiting for my Wonwoo to come and pick me up,” you squeak, slapping the chest of whoever is trying to take you away from your friends. 
There’s a collective groan behind you. 
“She’s wasted.” Lynne sighs to her brother while he nods in agreement.
“Your Wonwoo?” A familiar voice has you stopping in your tracks. 
Looking up at the once faceless person who was dragging you away, you find yourself face to face with the man you had been yearning for all night. 
“Woah. You look just like him,” bemused with the stranger in front of you. 
Squinting your eyes, your palm traces along his structured jaw. The tips of your finger poking at his cheek affirm your suspicions. He felt very real under your touch. Every line and freckle is scarily alike to your Wonwoo. 
“Like who?” 
“My Wonwoo.” 
The man’s chuckle vibrates deeply against your side. The same side where he has you pinned to his chest. A smug expression is plastered on his face as he watches you with intrigue. 
“I believe there’s only one Wonwoo,” he argues. 
“I disagree,” you huff as he pats your head, ushering you to his car.
 Unsure of why you’re even following some random is beyond you at that moment. All you could think about is texting Wonwoo once you’re safely tucked into bed. 
“Thanks for giving me a call, she hasn’t been answering her phone,” Wonwoo bids farewell to your friends as they start to pile into Jun’s car. 
“At least you can see why she hasn’t been texting you back. We might’ve given her too much to drink,” Lynne shakes her head as she chuckles at your drunken state. 
“If my opinion matters, I think I had the perfect amount,” you butt in, wanting your friends to know that you can still kind of register what they’re saying. 
“Right…” Leigh speaks up. “Anyway, we’re going to leave now that you’re here. Make sure she gets home safe!” 
“Will do,” Wonwoo promises, waving them off as Jun drives away. 
Glowering, you take a second look at him. How weird is it that a Wonwoo look-alike exists?  
The street lights that line the sidewalk cause your vision to go in and out periodically. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that the man in front of you was the real deal. But you did know better, and you would’ve recognized your Wonwoo from a mile away. 
“I think it’s time that we get you home,” Wonwoo smirks down at you, reaffirming the grip he has on your waist. 
“How do you know where I live?” You interrogate him, finding it weird that this man would have your address in the first place. 
“That’s a secret that will be revealed later, darling,” He teases, opening the door to his car so you can take a seat. 
Once he’s on the driver's side, Wonwoo adjusts your seatbelt so it’s not uncomfortable during the ride. The warmth of his arm brings you to snuggle against it, looking up at him with a coy smile. 
“You know, for a fake Wonwoo, you’re pretty cute.” 
“Fake Wonwoo?” 
“Yeah, real Wonwoo wouldn’t come all this way just to pick me up,” you sigh, pulling away from his warmth to stare out the window dramatically. 
“I think he would.” 
Laughing at his statement you roll your eyes. The person in front of you didn’t know your best friend like you did. 
“How would you know?” You bite back. If anyone could win the ‘I know Wonwoo more than you’ contest, it's you. 
“That’s also a secret.” 
Slouching back into your seat you huff out a breath of air once again, “Why do you have to have so many secrets?” 
“Because.” 
“It’s a secret?” you counter. You had a feeling that would be his answer anyway. 
“See? You’re finally getting it,” he gives you a cheesy smile, pinching your cheek. 
Slapping his hand away, you’re offended at how endeared he is with you. The only thing on your mind was the softness of your comforter and the warm mint tea that you knew you were going to have later. 
“Just take me home,” you sneer, shifting your whole body away from the driver’s side. Thighs pressed against the door, your brattiness starting to peek through your insobriety. 
“Hey, hey, don’t be like that,” Wonwoo pouts, lip jutting out as his eyes sparkle under the city lights. 
You don’t budge, body firmly pressed against the plastic of the car door. Arms crossed as you feign annoyance at him. 
“You know, I get really scared driving at night. I think I need you to hold my hand.” 
With a sense of reluctance, you offer your hand to him. Unsure of what has you agreeing to his request, you can’t say no to someone so handsome. Wonwoo interlaces his fingers with yours, and it surprises you how well your palm fits into his, allowing him to rest your intertwined hands on your lap.  
The ride back to your apartment is peaceful for the most part. The wistful city lights calm the drumming beat of your heart. Everything moves past in a blur; you can’t help but admire the cars driving past, time slowing down with the music lulling through the radio speakers. 
Serenity is the best way to describe the time you spend sitting next to Wonwoo on the drive towards your place. 
“I wonder if the real Wonwoo is thinking about me right now,” you mumble, still staring out the window. 
Wonwoo’s hand still entwined with yours, he hums along with the music, the other one on the steering wheel. Initially, you thought he didn’t hear what you had said, but he ended up replying to you. 
“I know he is.” 
Turning in your seat, you look at him, analyzing his side profile as he stares ahead. There’s yet another frown that settles into the fine line of your face, how could he possibly know whether or not Wonwoo is thinking about you? 
“You don’t know that,” you speak with a sour tone. 
“I do though,” he counters with a glance towards you. 
“How?” 
Disgruntled at his amusement, you know he’s just going to say it’s another one of his secrets, which you’re starting to get sick and tired of. Why can’t he just tell you? It’s not like you’ll see him after today. 
“Nevermind. You’re just going to say it’s a secret,” you grumble but still hold onto his hand. 
For whatever reason, you become engrossed in the view of your hands linked together. His slender fingers and clean nails had you intrigued. You had a feeling that you looked silly just staring at his hand in yours, but there was no helping it. 
Fake Wonwoo has nice hands. 
“You have pretty hands,” you tell him, no filter left within you due to your lack of sobriety. 
“Thank you,” he grins, tightening his grasp on you. 
The drive felt longer than you’re used to, but you decided to blame everything on the alcohol. 
“Are we almost there yet?” 
“Yes darling, just a few more minutes,” he answers you, rubbing small circles on the side of your thumb.
Another five minutes felt more like a year, but you couldn’t complain. Your seat was comfortable, the heater was at the right temperature and Wonwoo’s hold brought you solace. 
“We’re here. I’m gonna help you out okay? So just sit pretty and I’ll get you,” Wonwoo explains, and your cheeks burn from his indirect compliment. 
“Okay.” 
A few seconds pass and the door opens, his tall figure slouching down to grab you by your waist. He circles behind your back before leaning over to undo the seatbelt. It was almost too affectionate for a stranger, but something inside you had you leaning your head against his shoulder. 
“Don’t worry about walking. I’ll carry you.” 
You don’t respond to him, instead, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and hold onto him even tighter. Breathing in his cologne, you smell the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s cologne. Your olfactory senses take in the aroma of rose and pear. 
Lazy Sunday Morning. It was your favourite out of all the perfumes he owns. 
Closing your eyes, you allow Wonwoo to carry you inside your apartment. The sound of buttons beeping at the front of the entrance, and the warmth of his body, almost entranced you into a slumber. But you didn’t want the fantasy to end, you didn’t want this version of Wonwoo to slip out of your grasp. 
Nose nuzzling into the dip between his neck and shoulder, you make yourself comfortable as he stands inside the elevator, you in his arms, waiting to ascend to your floor.
The beeping sound returns as Wonwoo opens the front door that leads to your home. There’s a sense of wonder: Would this be what it would be like if Wonwoo were finally yours? 
Would he carry you to bed when you were too tired to stand? Hold your hand in his during every car ride? The thought of those things happening seemed like it would only be possible in some made-up faraway land. 
“Darling, we’re home,” Wonwoo’s baritone voice brings you out of your half-awake dream. 
We’re home. How bittersweet it sounds coming from the lips of someone who isn’t yours. 
“Thank you.” 
“Anything for you.” 
The mattress sinks a tad as you feel yourself being placed into the warmth of your comforter. Your arms don’t let go of your hold on Wonwoo’s shoulders. As you stare into his eyes, the dim lighting of your bedside lamp aids in resurfacing a sense of clarity within you. 
“Will you finally tell me your secrets?” You whisper, even though there is no reason to. 
“Only if you tell me yours.” 
There's a pause. No one dares to speak as you two continue to look at each other in silence. All that is left unspoken can be seen through his eyes, you wanted to ask. Every particle inside you just wanted to know whether there was a chance he felt the same way you did. 
“Come and lay beside me?” You request, tone laced with reticence. 
“Anything for you,” he repeats once again. 
Lowering his body onto yours, arms still circling his shoulders, he shifts a little so that your hands are still on him. The two of you face each other while the atmosphere is left unwavering. 
What you thought would be better left unsaid takes permanent residence at the forefront of your mind. Why do you want to tell this version of Wonwoo your deepest most kept secrets all of a sudden? 
Perhaps you thought that if you admitted anything now, it’ll be forgotten in the morning. It was safe with this fantasy Wonwoo who had no real attachment to the one who lives in your reality. But the effects of all those shots have started to wear off, and you’re left with a very real version of the person you’re irrevocably in love with. 
“You have to go first,” you speak in a hushed tone. 
Wonwoo’s arms grip your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. The arms that are linked behind his neck do the same, holding him taut against you. You don’t want him to leave. You don’t want this form of Wonwoo to disappear before your eyes. 
“Well, I didn’t think it would take you this long to realize but, I am the real Wonwoo,” his chuckle is deep, the glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. 
“I think I did. I just didn’t want this dream to end,” you smile bitterly. 
“But it’s not a dream? I’m here with you, and I’m very real.” 
Burying your face into his sweater, you sigh harshly. This is where it ends. 
“I’m sorry. It was probably such a nuisance having to pick me up just for me to spew out nonsense in return,” You’re embarrassed, hiding your face even further into his chest. 
“Will you please look at me?” Wonwoo asks, his voice low, “You’ll never be a nuisance to me.” 
  His hand comes up to your head, fingers carding down your hair. Staring deeply into your eyes, you can feel his sincerity. The breath in your throat is caught and you’re unable to conjure up a reply. 
“I know that old version of me is stuck in your mind, but I don’t want to be like that anymore. I’m willing to pick you up, no matter the distance. I wish you knew that sooner,” he vows, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to convey his feelings to you. 
“I’ll tell you my secret since you told me yours. I don’t think I would be able to say this while I’m sober,” you begin to lay your heart out bare for him. 
Taking a moment to think about how you want to word your confession, you grasp the hand that’s cradling your head. Intertwining your fingers with his once again, you stare at Wonwoo like he’s the answer to all your problems. 
The siren-like voice that sings within your heart is finally able to release itself from the prison your brain had placed it in. All you’ve wanted from Wonwoo was for him to love you, and on the off chance he feels the same way, then you’re willing to take the plunge into the deep waters of the unknown. 
“I don’t know if you remember me telling you, that time during our fight. I was–I am in love with you. I know you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I don’t think I can be friends with you after this.” 
“Real or fake, whatever you are or whatever this moment is. I’m still in love with you. I hate that I can’t tell you this without feeling scared or ashamed. I’ve loved you since the moment you came into class with your big nerdy glasses. I’ve loved you since you came back for a senior year when you had everyone’s attention on you. And I’ve loved you even when you were in love with someone else.” 
Taking a breath, you stop your tangent for a moment before beginning again. 
“I’ve loved you during everything we’ve been through together. Even when I chose to ignore you, I woke up every morning with you still on my mind. It was hard, and I don’t know why I couldn’t let go of my feelings for you but a part of me was always hoping that one day you would feel the same way.”  
It’s done. There was nothing you could do to backtrack on your words. No time machine to take away your confession and erase it from his memory. Your heart felt free for the first time in years, and the weight on your shoulders lightened exponentially. 
Wonwoo doesn’t dare speak, and your pulse quickens from his prolonged silence. The mere seconds that passed felt like an eternity, and that was enough to bring you out of your drunken state. 
“Will you still love me tomorrow? When it's morning, and you’re sober. Will I still be the one you love?” Wonwoo's voice is timbre, barely loud enough to hear over your beating heart. 
“Yes. Even when you weren’t around. Even when you weren’t available, I still loved you,” you admit to him. 
The fingers that were laced with yours move to your jaw, Wonwoo’s palm tracing every outline of your face. The rough skin from his thumb contrasts the softness of your cheek. Memorizing every line and wrinkle, he continues to caress you, as if he was communicating with his touch. 
“If you didn’t want me tomorrow, you’d still be the person I wake up thinking about.  I hated not knowing whether you meant what you said,” he pauses, clarifying his jumble of words, “the night we fought, I mean. Because I heard you, even when I was blinded with jealousy and anger. I had hoped you meant what you confessed to me that night.” 
The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t subside. There hadn’t been a day in all the years you’ve known your best friend where you thought you would hear him reciprocate the feelings you were holding deep down inside you.
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that it was you all along. I don’t know why I never admitted it to myself, but you’ve been in front of me this whole time.” 
The pad of Wonwoo’s thumb shadows over your bottom lip, your breath hitching under his touch. With soft eyes and an even softer touch, Wonwoo couldn’t take his hands off you. There was no lewd denotation behind his actions, just wanting to feel his skin against yours. 
“I feel so much regret because you were always the one person I truly wanted and I never acted on those instincts,” Wonwoo confided, the weight of his words seeping into you with a profound sense of awareness. 
“I’m yours, Wonwoo. That will never change,” you speak frankly. 
“Just promise me you’ll love me tomorrow too,” he chokes out. 
“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.” 
chapter two, the first day of junior year. 
Before the age of sixteen, everything was a blur. Your routine was mundane, with average grades, average parents, and an even more average love life. Before the age of sixteen, there were no particular moments in all your years worth noting. It wasn’t until you met Wonwoo on the first day of eleventh grade. 
Once you laid your eyes on him, you saw the potential of a new friendship. However, your teenage self didn’t realize how deep-rooted Wonwoo would become in your life from that day forward. 
“Hi! It’s nice to meet you. Wonwoo right?” You greeted, your figure looming over Wonwoo who was sitting at the picnic table in the school's courtyard. 
The September sun shone bright, blinding Wonwoo as he placed a hand over his eyes to get a better look at the stranger in front of him. 
You explicitly remembered him eating lunch alone while playing Super Smash Bros on his Nintendo Switch. His black hair was long and covered his forehead, glasses were thick and large-framed. Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air from the other boys at your school. Unlike the rest of them, he was more reserved and didn’t talk much. His silence intrigued you. 
“Hi?” he replied as a confused frown graced his lips before he returned to his game.
Deciding to ignore his introverted personality, you introduce yourself. You take out your lunch box, unveiling the spam musubi you prepared the night before. 
“Do you mind if I join you?” you ask him even though you’ve already begun unpacking the food from your bag. 
“Well, I guess it’s okay,” he shrugged, interested in everything but the person sitting beside him. 
Peering closer at his screen, you watched with intent. The two characters fighting on a floating stage, Wonwoo spamming buttons with expertise. You’ve played Super Smash Bros before, but you weren’t as good as him. 
“Are you playing Smash Bros? You’re really good,” you mumbled, taking a bite of your food. 
“Thanks.” 
Miffed by his lack of speech, you continued to watch him play, his triangle kimbap left ignored as he focused on winning. 
“You can do multiplayer with this right? Can I play too?” you asked him, observing his gameplay over his shoulder. 
He shoots you a quirked eyebrow before returning his attention to his screen. Three to zero. You found Wonwoo to be an expert compared to your novice skills. 
“You know how to play?” Wonwoo stared at you in disbelief. 
“Duh! Sometimes Seokmin brings his switch for spare period. I only play Cloud or Bayonetta though,” you explained. 
Wonwoo looked impressed with your knowledge of the characters. He shrugged his shoulders before setting up his switch into a two-player mode. Handing you the red switch controller, you shook your head in refusal. 
“Nope. I can only play with the blue controller.” 
“Huh? How does that even make sense?” He scoffed but gave you the blue one anyway. 
Taking the controller from his hands, you gave him a grateful smile. 
“Blue is my favourite colour,” you told him, bumping your shoulder with his. 
Wonwoo is confused by your outward personality, unsure of how to react to you being so comfortable with someone you had just met, but he didn’t complain. It was his first day at a new school and it wouldn’t be so bad making a new friend as soon as possible. 
The player screen lit up and you quickly decided on Cloud, while Wonwoo opted to play Kirby. Smart, you thought. If played correctly, Kirby can easily absorb the abilities of his opponents. 
With a randomly chosen stage, the game commenced. It didn’t take long for Wonwoo to win. He was more experienced than you were, but you had fun nonetheless. 
“You’re terrible at this,” He chuckles, looking at you with a cat-like smile. 
The smitten grin on your face was difficult to hide as you stared back into his eyes. Something shifted in you that day, and it marked the first time you saw Wonwoo in a romantic light. Call it cliche for falling for him so quickly, but you couldn’t help it, you were only human after all. 
“I never said I was good,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 
“I guess you’re right.” 
“Can we play again tomorrow?” 
“Sure,” Wonwoo nodded his head, placing down his switch to get back to his food. 
Enraptured by him from that moment on, you found yourself hopelessly wishing to become closer to Wonwoo. If there was one sure thing about you, it was persistence. From that day forward, you didn’t leave Wonwoo’s side, spending your lunch under the autumn sun and playing games on his switch. 
… 
october of junior year. 
[10:00 p.m]  [you: did you finish ur hw? :D] [wonwoo: yes. did u?] [you: nope :( it was hurting my brain so im watching nana]  [wonwoo: nana?] [wonwoo: never heard of it]  [you: omg…] [you: it’s the best anime ever!!]  [wonwoo: i didn’t know u liked anime] [you: uve got a lot to learn abt me wons] [wonwoo: wons?] [you: my nickname for u obvs hehe]  [*you changed wonwoo’s nickname to wons*]  [wons: ok]  [you: u should watch it. It WILL change your life]  [wons: ok, maybe later. gotta go to bed. see u tmrw]  [you: ok grandpa :p see u tmrw!!] [you: bring ur switch!]  [wons: sure. bye.] 
“Wonwoo! Wait up for me,” you hollered, waving your hand in the air even though his back was facing towards you. 
Turning around, Wonwoo stared blankly as you ran up to him. Halting his steps, he waited for you to catch up. The backpack you were wearing flops up and down as you picked up your speed. 
The weather was colder now, and the leaves morphed into deeper shades of yellow and red. Wind whistling as you finally reached where he stood, you gave him a bright smile, so bright that it offset the gloomy sky. 
“Morning,” he greeted you. 
Air knocked out of your chest, and you folded over with your hands on your knees, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Wonwoo grasped your elbow to help, but this didn’t help your already out-of-breath state. His touch caused sparks to erupt under your skin. Luckily, the commotion caused by your run concealed your nerves. 
“Why didn’t you tell me we lived on the same street?” you heaved while Wonwoo used his grip to help you stand straight.
“How was I supposed to know?” he rebutted. 
Rolling your eyes at him, you knew he was right. But if you had known sooner, you could’ve spent your previous mornings walking with him to school. 
“Can we walk to school together from now on then?” you batted your eyelashes at him, shooting him a sweet smile. 
“I don’t mind,” he shrugged his shoulders again. 
You’ve found Wonwoo to be quite nonchalant, his reactions never more than a distant stare, a chuckle, or a shoulder shrug, no in between. Wonwoo’s lack of care for anything and everything is what endeared you the most. Despite his standoffish personality, you knew there was more to him deep down. He didn’t talk much, but his actions spoke louder than his words did. 
… 
november of junior year.
Thanks to your English teacher, Mr. Park, you and Wonwoo have been paired up for your biology project. Not only did that mean you would get to spend more time with Wonwoo but it also meant you secured a good grade for the assignment. 
Science in general has never been your strong suit, but whenever you asked Wonwoo to explain the concepts to you, everything somehow made sense. 
The walk to his house was nerve-wracking. It was the first time going over to a boy’s place, and the fact that it was Wonwoo made you even more anxious. He didn’t talk much about his family unless you asked. The only thing you knew was that he had an older brother named Seongho. 
“Ma! I’m home,” Wonwoo greeted his mother, and you're taken aback by how loud his voice got. 
Due to his introverted personality, Wonwoo didn’t talk at school unless spoken to, and it was exciting to finally see him in a setting where he was comfortable. 
His mom poked her head out from the kitchen and gave you both a warm smile. Patting her hands off the apron, she immediately pulled you into a hug. She smelt like lavender and vanilla, giving off a homey aroma. 
“Wonwoo! You didn’t tell me you got a girlfriend,” she exclaimed, pinching her son’s cheek. 
Wonwoos's face flared red, and he retracted from his mother's touch. “She’s not my girlfriend. We have a project to work on.” 
“Oops! Sorry. You two had better get to work then. I’ll call you when the food is ready. You’ll stay for dinner, right dear?” She beamed down at you. 
“If you and Wonwoo don’t mind, then I can,” you grinned at her while Wonwoo was urging you upstairs. 
“Of course, I don’t mind. It’s nice to see my little Wonwoo making friends at his new school,” she cooed at her son, which had him rolling his eyes. 
“Mom, I’m sixteen,” Wonwoo groaned, discreetly stepping towards the direction of his room. 
“Thanks, Mrs. Jeon!” you responded as Wonwoo dragged you by the wrist, hauling you along with him. 
His fingers are wrapped around your forearm, trying to get you away from his Mom as fast as he could. 
The moment you stepped into his room, you found it cleaner than an average teenage boy’s would be. Your eyes panned over his space, spotting the gaming pc in the corner. Marvelling at the RGB lighting, you gasped at the clicky-ness of the keyboard. 
“Woah… this is so cool!” you gushed, tapping random keys to feel the switches underneath. 
“I guess,” Wonwoo muttered, shutting the door behind him. 
The closed door muffled any sound from outside his room, and you were left alone with Wonwoo and the silence he brought along with him. 
“Your mom is really nice,” you chirped. 
Wonwoo responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Classic. Instead of saying anything more, he took the poster board out of his bag and placed it on his bed. 
“We should get started,” Wonwoo said firmly. 
You could only sigh at how serious he was about school. Of course, you knew the importance of diligence when it comes to projects and assignments, but you felt that this was the perfect time to learn more about your new friend. 
Sitting beside him on his bed, you crossed your legs and took the large biology textbook out of the bag alongside your laptop. 
“Inherited genes and Sickle-cell anemia, sounds boring,” you huffed. 
Wonwoo ignored your statement and grabbed the textbook from you to look up information that would help with your project. 
“Don’t you think we’re working on this too early? We have like…two weeks,” you whined. 
“The sooner we get this over with the better,” he nipped, flipping the pages without a single glance over at you. 
The brightness of your laptop illuminated Wonwoo’s dim room. Aside from the computer and his bedside lamp, the rest of his lights were off. Opening up the doc, you couldn’t help but sneak glances over at him. 
Wonwoo fixed his glasses, pushing the frames up his tall nose. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. There was something about him that made him undeniably handsome, your teenage brain couldn’t comprehend it. 
“Y’know Mr. Park is pretty chill. We don’t have to do this all in one night.” 
“I know,” Wonwoo muttered, still reading the textbook, looking for information to cite for your project. 
Wonwoo could feel your eyes focused on him, but he ignored them, pretending to read the words on the page instead. Wonwoo didn’t mind that you had a habit of staring at him, but he didn’t know how to spark conversation. You were quite talkative, so he decided that it was better for you to take the lead. 
Putting up with his adamance, the two of you worked on your project for a good hour before you decided that the words "sickle cell" and "genes" were hurting your eyes. 
“Can we take a break, it feels like my brain is going to pop out of my skull,” you sighed, flopping against his mattress. 
Wonwoo shot you a scolding expression but gave in to your wishes. And like a lightbulb had gone off in your head, you quickly got back up. Furiously typing on your laptop, you go onto the illegal site where you had NANA bookmarked. 
“How about we watch an episode? You haven’t started it yet right?” you enquired, looking at him with the biggest grin on your face. 
“I haven’t, no,” he answered you. 
With a squeal, you clicked on the first episode while making yourself comfortable. Wonwoo moved next to you, and excitement coursed through your veins. His warmth radiated off him, and the feeling of him sitting so close made butterflies erupt within you. 
Despite Wonwoo’s reluctance to take a break from schoolwork, you found him genuinely interested in the show. Nothing could compare to the feeling of sitting in silence with him, just enjoying his presence as NANA played on your laptop. 
For the rest of your self-declared break, you and Wonwoo got through the first two episodes. 
There was a part of you that wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was racing, being that close to him. But you felt daring in that moment, allowing yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. Wonwoo stiffened slightly at your proximity but didn’t budge. If anything, he relaxed further. So you stayed in that position, if he could hear your thumping pulse, you didn’t care. 
“Well, what do you think?” you looked up at him, curious about his first impression. 
“It’s good. Nana seems very naive though,” he disclosed, pushing his glasses up once again. 
“Hmm, interesting. The plot gets better the more you watch, so I hope you’ll give it a chance,” you gave him a shy smile which he returned. 
Any other person probably would’ve refused to watch this show with you. Knowing Wonwoo, he was more into shounen than shoujo or slice of life. Yet, he spent an hour watching an anime that was out of his usual genre. It made you feel safe. Safe enough to talk about your interests without worrying whether or not he’d find you bothersome. 
“Sure. I think I liked it enough to watch on my own,” he admitted. 
“Wait. Really?” you gasped, shocked that he enjoyed it. 
“Yeah. At least then we have more to talk about,” he specified.
The smile on your face broadened, and you leaned into him even more as you both stared ahead, starting the third episode. Once again, he didn’t stop you. Instead, Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. 
“You’re a good friend Wons,” you confirmed. 
“And you’re my only friend,” he confessed, patting your shoulder. 
“Don't worry. I’ll always be your friend,” you mumbled before staring deeply into his eyes. 
Wonwoo chuckled at your words, nodding his head in agreement. 
“I feel like I should be the one saying that,” he mused, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. 
“It’s okay. I’m glad I decided to sit next to you on the first day of school,” you laughed, reminiscing about that warm September day. 
“I’m glad too.” 
After that day, Wonwoo had become more comfortable with talking to you about the things he didn’t share with others. He made you feel special. Although you had close friends like Seokmin and Mingyu during your first two years in high school, there were parts about yourself that you knew you couldn’t unveil to them. 
It wasn’t that they were judgmental or bad friends; Wonwoo just brought out something different in you. Although it took a while to break him out of his shell, he continued to reveal more about himself the more time you spent with him. 
The closeness that you two shared that night in his bedroom, watching NANA on your laptop sparked a flame inside you. Wonwoo took over every crevice of your mind, his scent, his touch, even if it was a mere hand on your shoulders, you didn’t want to go a day without him. Life was meaningless before you met Wonwoo, a blur of memories you couldn’t pinpoint. Now that he was with you, you didn’t want to ever go back to a time when he was not by your side. 
chapter three, present time. 
Sunlight pours through your curtains, hitting your eyes with a blinding sheen. The ache of last night's decisions trickles down your head and into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You can only curse your past self for drinking way more than your limit allows. 
Whatever had happened last night felt straight out of a movie, especially because it had caused you to dream about Wonwoo finally being yours. As you recollect the memories of yesterday, the pang in your heart intensifies. 
The oddly vivid visions of you and Wonwoo cuddling under blankets leave a bitter taste in your mouth. It felt so real you could almost smell the faint lingering scent of his cologne on your sheets. But alas, it was just another drunken fantasy you wish you could live in. 
“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.”
You almost scoff at how cheesy you sounded in your dream. What kind of fool speaks this articulate after countless shots of tequila? 
The sounds of pots clanging brings you out of your thoughts, and you practically jump off your mattress and run to the entrance of your room. Placing an ear against the thick wood, you listen carefully for signs of an intruder. There’s a grunt that resounds through your apartment and has sirens blaring in your mind. You must’ve been very drunk last night, and stupid enough to leave your door unlocked. 
There was nothing in your bedroom that could be of use to you in a situation like this. Except for the dildo that June gifted you for your birthday last year. With a defeated sigh, you decided that it was needed during this life-or-death situation. Opening up your drawer you carefully take out the pink sparkly dildo that was still left in its packaging, gripping it tightly as you burst through the door. 
Screaming, you lunge towards the intruder’s large frame with your eyes shut tight, smacking him repeatedly with the phallic piece of plastic. 
“Get out! You freak! Get out!” You shriek, hitting his back with a large thump. 
The intruder groans in pain, the sound of his discomfort all too familiar. Halting your assault on his naked back, you open your eyes. Only for your sight to befall an extremely muscular and shirtless Wonwoo. 
“Ow! What the fuck?” Wonwoo grunts, turning around to see your smaller frame gripping a bright pink dildo. 
His eyes widen with recognition, adjusting his glasses, he chuckles at you and your dishevelled state. The sex toy in your hand falls to the ground as you stare at him with an expression filled with not only pure shock but horror. 
Never in your life did you think that Wonwoo would be the one standing shirtless in your kitchen. The idea of someone breaking into your house seems more plausible than whatever is happening before your eyes right now. 
“I’m tryna make you breakfast, and this is how you repay me?” Wonwoo laughs, grabbing the toy from your kitchen floor and placing it down on the counter. 
“I-Uhm. It’s a gift! Yeah,” you stutter, “June gave me it last year as a gift. It’s unused, I promise.” 
Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow at you, stepping forward, crowding you with his large chest. The counter hits your back and you find yourself caged between the granite and Wonwoo’s naked upper half. 
“So you used it to hit me instead?” Wonwoo deducts, his palms gripping the counter so you have nowhere left to run. 
Despite the awkward situation you put yourself in, your mind is elsewhere now that Wonwoo has you in his hold. The words that you want to come out of your mouth are clogged with Wonwoo’s bare chest, the only thing you’re able to focus on. 
“W-well, I thought you were breaking in so,” you start but Wonwoo cuts you off. 
“Do you not remember what happened last night, darling?” He asks you, and the breath in your throat is caught. 
“Last night? I-I thought that was a dream,” you mutter, still staring deeply into his eyes. 
Sighing, Wonwoo pushes the loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. His thumb moves languidly against your skin while you lean into his touch even more. 
“No. It wasn’t a dream. I told you I loved you last night and I meant it,” he clarifies, earnest with his confession. 
“I love you too,” the words spill out of your mouth effortlessly, like you were meant to tell him all along. 
Grinning down at you, Wonwoo places a gentle kiss on your lips. His large hands cupping your face as he does so. 
Pulling back he smiles at you once again, satisfied with the one little peck that he had given you. But you can’t help but pout. You wanted more from him, but there was a lot to address than just the feelings you two shared last night. 
Like the dildo suctioned to your counter, for example. 
“Why are you shirtless?” you ask, starting with the first thing in front of you. 
“Because darling, you’re wearing my shirt,” answering nonchalantly as he turns back to hand you a plate of eggs and bacon. 
Oh, right. You look down at the white shirt that’s draped over your frame. Dumbfounded, you mumble a quick thanks before nibbling on the food he gave you. 
Wonwoo grips your hand, pulling you to sit down on the couch with him. You weren’t sure what else to say, opting to focus on the food in front of you instead. If there was something Wonwoo wanted to mention, you gave him the time to do so. 
“You probably don’t remember me helping you get ready for bed. You were kinda out of it once we got home,” he explains. 
With your legs crossed on the sofa, you nod, processing the information before waiting for him to continue. 
Wiping the corner of your mouth, Wonwoo’s lips are upturned into a fond smile. Your cheeks grow hot as he continues to stare. 
“Whatever happened last night wasn’t a dream. I do love you, I mean it. I want to be yours if you’ll give me a chance,” he professes. 
All while you’re sitting there eating strips of bacon and a couple of eggs. You had been mistaken to think that last night was some fever dream because this moment is more fitting. 
For anyone else, eating while Wonwoo is admitting his love for you would be odd, and out of the ordinary. But this felt natural somehow like a different version of you in some other universe has already experienced it. 
“I just want to be yours, Wonwoo.” you sigh, placing your plate on the coffee table. 
Inching closer to him, you place yourself on his lap, your hands circling his broad shoulders. Your head makes itself at home in the dip between his shoulder and neck as you breathe in his cologne. 
Lazy Sunday Morning. Your favourite. 
“I’ve always just wanted to be yours,” your voice is meek, muffled from hiding your face against his skin. 
Wonwoo’s hand rubs up and down the expanse of your back, and you relax under his touch. Completely disarmed under the daze of your subsiding headache and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath. 
Nothing else in the world matters to you when you’re in his hold. Outside disruptions are muted, the only thing that can be heard is your heart pounding within the confines of your chest. 
Pulling back from where your head was resting, you drink in Wonwoo’s every feature. The ones that you’ve memorized and the ones you’ve missed from never being this close to him. You want to know all of him, want to feel and see all of him. 
With the most delicate of motions, you place your lips over his. There’s a ruggedness to his skin, yet he feels so gentle against you all at the same time. The softness of love that you’ve never experienced before. There haven’t been many instances where you’ve got to kiss someone so deeply, yet it’s the least of your worries. All that matters to you now is Wonwoo. 
He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which almost seemed impossible. But he makes it happen anyway, clutching onto you like his life depended on it. 
“Wonwoo.” Pulling away, you whimper breathlessly, wanting more and more of him. 
The sweet sounds that erupt from you cause a groan to leave his throat, crashing his lips against yours once again. The tenderness that was evident before is overtaken by the heat of lust. Like tides to an ocean, Wonwoo kisses you with full force, and you don’t care if you can barely breathe or if your heart is suddenly going into overdrive. You’d rather suffocate in his grasp than go another minute without him all over you. 
“You’re fucking perfect, darling,” Wonwoo whispers in your ear, his lips trailing down your cheek and down to your neck. 
Your head lolls with pleasure, feeling him press hot kisses against your scorching skin. Tiny licks here and there that force your eyes to roll back, you find purchase in his black locks, tugging at them in an attempt to ground yourself. 
“Be my girlfriend. Be mine, please,” Wonwoo speaks in hushed tones, his lips searing against the shell of your ear. 
You moan out, nodding your head as his hand moves down to squeeze the meat of your ass. He pulls you right onto his hardening length, your sleep shorts leaving nothing up to the imagination. The hands he has placed on your bottom forces you to drag your hips back and forth against his clothed dick. 
“Yes, I want it so bad. I wanna be yours, forever,” you sigh, mustering up enough brainpower to answer him.
Before you two could get any further the shrill of a ringtone brings you out of your lustful state. Wonwoo refuses to let you go, instead, he keeps you firmly on his lap while he answers the phone. 
You can’t help but giggle at how frustrated he looks. Eyebrows furrowed with a disappointed frown on his swollen lips. He’s still hard against you, and the thought of teasing him while he’s speaking to someone over the phone seems like a brilliant idea. 
“What do you want, Jeonghan?” Wonwoo grumbles, his hand moving under your shorts to squeeze you properly. 
While his hand massages into the fat, you kiss up his neck while rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. His voice becomes strained, attempting to cover up the sounds of pleasure he’s emitting with a cough. 
“What? You had to call me just for that?” Wonwoo seethes, yet he continues to play with your ass as he takes his call. As if you’re some type of stress ball to relieve his vexation. 
“No. She’s right beside me,” he mumbles and you perk up now that his attention is back on you. 
Grabbing the phone that he’s holding, you greet Jeonghan through the speaker. 
“Hi Hannie!” 
“Hi, beautiful. Are you down to go to my place tonight? Everyone’s coming over,” Jeonghan explains, his voice like honey. 
Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the pet names, clearly unamused by his friend's flirty personality. Without a second to waste, he dives into the skin at the base of your neck, trickling down to your exposed shoulder where the collar of his shirt fails to cover. 
“O-of course! We’ll see you later, okay?” you stutter, unable to focus with Wonwoo all over you. 
“Got it! Don’t be late, love you!” He says his goodbyes before hanging up. 
“Love you too!”
Wonwoo stops in his tracks, his eyes piercing into yours, deadly and swirling with desire. The phone in your hand is discarded somewhere on the floor before he grabs your face, pinching you with his thumb and index finger. 
“You’ve got a lot of nerve baby, teasing me like that. Telling Jeonghan you love him,” Wonwoo spits, but there's amusement behind his serious tone. 
“M’sorry, I’ll make it up to you later, okay? I want to get ready for Jeonghan’s thing,” you smile at him cheekily as you release yourself from his hold. 
“Oh I’m sure you will,” he huffs, but lets you go anyway.
Acting unaffected, you get up from his lap, running to the bathroom to start a shower while you leave Wonwoo hot and bothered on the couch. You can’t help but giggle to yourself, excited for whatever awaits you later on. 
The pain and undeniable suffering you had gone through seemed like a memory of the past. The years of yearning for your best friend are nothing but another fever dream. At least you wish it was all a dream, but now that you have Wonwoo in this reality, you don’t want to let him go. 
It's almost laughable how quickly things can change overnight, it felt like yesterday you were crying yourself to sleep over Wonwoo not reciprocating your feelings, and now you have him shirtless on the couch after a very hot make-out session. 
This must be what your heart was telling you all along. This must be what was beyond the dark water of the unknown. You’re thankful you took the plunge because the risk of unveiling your true feelings has given you something undeniably saccharine in return. 
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Kiss it Better. 
chapter one.
When Wonwoo met you for the first time, he couldn’t help but find you annoying. You had a habit of sticking to his side when he chose to spend time alone, but in hindsight, it brought him more joy than annoyance. 
He had always been a shy kid and preferred to sit alone at lunch playing games or reading. But when you came into his life, he realized that some company isn’t so bad after all. 
Now that he’s older, and the two of you have grown together, he wouldn’t replace your presence for anyone else. There was something about your personality that made him feel comfortable. It wasn’t long before Wonwoo found a home within you, from your bright smile to your incessant need to play Super Smash Bros each lunch period. He’s thankful he had decided to let the walls he built up come down for the sake of your friendship.
… 
It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at Jeonghan’s apartment. The door was left unlocked for others to come and go as they pleased. Music was blasting from his surround-sound speakers. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how his friend was able to get away from noise complaints, but he decided that it wasn’t any of his business. 
The only thing he was looking forward to was the look on Seokmin’s face once he saw that you were finally his. 
Wonwoo didn’t care that it was selfish of him to arrive with you draped on his arm; he wanted everyone to know that you were off limits. He simply couldn’t wait to see the reactions that would erupt from his friends once he disclosed that he’d claimed his mark on you. 
“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan calls out for him, standing by the island pouring drinks for him and Seungcheol. 
His attention diverges, stalking over to his friends with your hand clasped in his. The small action doesn’t go unnoticed as he watches Jeonghan briefly glance over to your intertwined hands. 
The pride brewing in his chest swells, you look irresistible and he knows what awaits him later on when you two get home. But he can indulge in his fantasy later, for now, he’ll settle for admiring your beauty in a more discreet way. Which wasn’t all that methodical in retrospect, because he can’t take his eyes off you. 
Your skirt is short and the frilly lace top you’re wearing shows off your cleavage tastefully. If Wonwoo had it his way, he wouldn’t have let you out of your apartment till the sun was up the next morning. 
“Hello, beautiful. You look amazing,” Jeonghan greets you, forcing you to take your hand out of his grasp to hug your extremely flirtatious friend.
The absence of your touch irked him, but he let you go, not wanting to startle the rest of the group with his growing possessiveness. 
“Thank you, Hannie,” your voice muffles from being engulfed in Jeonghan’s arms. 
“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo gripes, clearly bothered with the way his friend is holding you. 
“You’re no fun,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, before whispering something incoherent in your ear, causing a giggle to erupt from your sweet lips. 
Jeonghan lets go of you anyway, giving into Wonwoo’s sour attitude. 
“You guys just got here! Don’t tell me you’re going to be grumpy the whole time,” Jeonghan teases. 
 “I’m not grumpy, you just have grabby hands and I don’t need you all over my girlfriend for the rest of the night,” Wonwoo grumbles bitterly, taking ahold of your wrist to pull you closer to him. 
He sees the way you roll your eyes, but deep down he knows you enjoy how commanding he can become, especially with you. 
“Girlfriend huh? That’s a big word for you,” Jeonghan laughs while raising his eyebrows. 
“Jeonghan!” you gasp, amusement sparkling in your eyes. 
Wonwoo gives the two of you an irritated look before pulling you away to greet the rest of your friends. You don’t protest the way he handles you and he takes note of that. Who knew you could be so pliant, even in social situations? 
“You don’t have to worry about Jeonghan baby, you know how he is,” you murmur to him, shooting him a reassuring smile. 
“I’m not worried about him, darling,” he huffs. Jeonghan is the least of his worries. 
After what happened between you two this morning, Wonwoo can’t help but want you all for himself. God forbid you let Seokmin touch you the way he did. The mere thought of it made him feel sick. 
He understands that he shouldn’t have thoughts about you with other people, especially because he knows you haven’t dated anyone officially before. But now that you’re his, he has to make sure it stays that way.
“Okay, but still. Just relax, I'm not going anywhere,” you reassure him. 
Your gentle words and the soft squeeze you give him allow him to chill out a little more. He couldn’t help but be on high alert after what Seokmin put you through, after what he put you through. 
Wonwoo has the constant reminder that you’re both here for a good time, and even though he might not be able to hold himself back once his eyes are set on Seokmin, he continues to obey your wishes. 
Disappointment proceeds him as he feels you leave his side. Wonwoo lets go of you, allowing you to grab drinks from Jeonghan’s bar. Instead of wandering around like a loner, he sits on the couch, patiently waiting for your return. 
“Hey, Wonwoo? Do you remember me?” a girl’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. 
Turning to the person who forces themselves into the seat next to him, he frowns at her. She didn’t illuminate the room the way you did, and her voice was unpleasant to his ears. 
“No. Sorry,” he kept his response curt, not wanting to entertain the faceless stranger who was attempting to flirt with him. 
“It’s me? Josh’s friend. We met at Seokmin’s place last time,” she continued to press, and Wonwoo could feel his ears growing hot with annoyance. 
“Oh, right.”  
A hand is placed on his shoulder and he flinches away, he doesn’t want anyone but you touching him. It almost makes him want to throw up. 
“I have a girlfriend,” he quips, not wanting to prolong the interaction any longer. 
The girl beside him cackles, and Wonwoo really can’t stand the sound of her voice. 
“That’s never stopped me,” her voice lowers an octave in an attempt to sound seductive but Wonwoo feels nothing but repulsed by her very being. 
He moves further away from her, evidently angry with the way she’s coming onto him. Cursing at himself inside his mind, he should’ve never flirted with her to begin with. The puzzle pieces start to slowly align as he remembers that night at Seokmin’s place. It was that night that you went home without him, and the realization hit him like a truck. 
A part of him always wondered what moment had been your breaking point, and there she was, sitting right beside him. 
“I really don’t care,” Wonwoo doesn’t spare another glance, escaping her suffocating presence to search for you. 
Stopping in his tracks, he watches as Seokmin comes up to you, clearly apprehensive as you search Jeonghan’s fridge for a spare Diet Coke. The music is blaring, and the sheer volume of the speakers drowns out Seokmin’s voice. 
He watches as you start to notice that someone is talking to you, trying to get your attention. Wonwoo can see the pained expression in your eyes, and he can’t even blame you. Seokmin was your friend before he even met you, and he can’t even fathom the pain you’re feeling from losing someone so close to you. 
Sure, he understands the depth of your relationship with Seokmin, but that doesn’t stop the fury that is forcing its way through his veins. Smoke practically comes out of his nose and ears as he watches everything unfold before his very eyes. 
Seokmin is visibly trying to reason with you, his lips moving at lightning speed as you stand there holding your drink close to your chest. Every bone in Wonwoo’s body wants to go up to you and snatch you away as fast as possible. But he can’t help but relish in the sight of Seokmin so desperate for your attention. It’s satisfying to see your reactions morph from sorrow to anger the longer you’re frozen in your place. 
The second he sees tears beginning to well up in your eyes is the moment Wonwoo finally decides to take action. 
Marching up to you, he pulls you by the waist until you are glued to him. With a firm hand, he squeezes you tightly, staking his claim in front of Seokmin. 
“I’m sorr—,” the words Seokmin so desperately wants to say are cut off by Wonwoo’s presence. 
Wonwoo’s lips press into a thin line, gazing down at him with nothing but a look of disgust, and also triumph. Seokmin seems to realize he’s lost because he steps back slowly, shaking his head as his shoulders slouch with defeat. 
Wonwoo has won, and Seokmin can’t do anything to get in his way anymore. 
“I don’t know why you think you’re allowed to talk to her, but you should leave her alone from now on,” Wonwoo seethes, gaze unwavering. 
“Whatever man,” is all Seokmin can say before retreating into the crowd. 
Wonwoo turns you slightly, hand placed delicately on your cheek, scanning your features to make sure that you’re alright. 
“You okay darling?” he asks, before pecking your lips. 
“I’m okay. I don’t wanna be here anymore, can we go home?” you squeak, your voice faltering. 
Wonwoo hates to see you affected by someone so unimportant like Seokmin. 
He doesn’t think for another second before agreeing with your request. Bidding Jeonghan farewell while holding tightly onto your hand. Before either of you knew it, you were out the door and on the way back home. 
The unsavoury moments that happened while at Jeonghan’s place are gone with the wind as Wonwoo speeds down the road and back to your apartment. 
“Thank you for earlier, I was so in shock I couldn’t even move or speak,” you mutter, grabbing his palm and placing it on your cheek. 
Wonwoo feels your warmth and glances at you pouting as you stare out at the empty road. 
“It’s alright darling, you’re here now, that asshole is not going anywhere near you anymore,” Wonwoo reassures you as he takes your hand in his, giving you a comforting squeeze in an attempt to soothe the thoughts he knows are running through your head. 
The moment Wonwoo reaches your building, he quickly parks the car before running to the passenger side to open your door. His hand is out in front of him for you to hold while you take a step, doing everything he can to distract you from what happened.
Once the front door of your apartment closes behind him, you turn around with a cheeky smile. It almost gives him whiplash at how quickly your mood changes. 
“I didn’t peg you as the possessive type,” you remark, eyes glinting against the dim lighting of your living room lamp. 
“I'm not. But it’s different with you, darling,” he admits. 
Wonwoo rarely felt jealousy in his previous relationships, he knew he was in control either way. Although he knows how much you love him, he still finds himself peeved when someone other than him is close to you. There's a fire within him that he couldn’t extinguish, one that only you could put out. 
“You gonna give me what you promised earlier,” Wonwoo’s voice lowers an octave, crowding your smaller frame. 
He towers over you while watching the way your eyes shine over with intrigue. The image of you moaning for him is a vision he can’t erase from his mind, a vision he wishes he could replay over and over. 
“Depends. Were you jealous about Seokmin coming up to me?” you press, slender fingers tracing circles into his chest. 
Your touch felt like a crackling fire under his skin, Wonwoo’s thoughts were depleted of anything that could distract his awakening need to ravish you. 
“I think you know the answer to that already.”
Stepping closer to you, he places both his hands on your waist, pulling you in until you’re flush against him. His breath trails against your skin as he breathes you in, wanting to memorize the sweet notes of your perfume. The smell of lemon blossom and amber engulfs his senses. 
Amyris Femme. His favourite. 
You have always known how much he loves the smell of it on you. It’s simply addictive and intoxicating. Everything about you is always so sweet, from your honeyed eyes to your heavenly voice, the moans you exude dripping in sugar. From head to toe, you are everything Wonwoo’s ever wanted to indulge in, wanting to experience the high of you with all seven senses. 
He’s convinced that some higher power has sculpted you into everything he’s ever asked for. The universe had known all his preferences, and all his interests and bottled them up into one person. You. 
You. You. You. 
His.
 His darling.  
Cradling your cheek, he presses his lips against yours, truly savouring every brush of skin against yours. Drinking in your sweet scent through his taste and sense of smell. The longer the two of you stand there and make out, the more passionate it becomes. 
Wonwoo pushes himself against you even further, until he’s sure you can feel his already hardening length grow between you. 
You own him in so many ways, in ways you probably wouldn’t be able to comprehend. From his heart to his very soul, he’s yours. And he wants to show you how much of an effect you have on him. Wonwoo wants to show you how crazy you make him. 
Taking the lead, Wonwoo doesn’t relinquish his hold on you as you two slowly move to your bedroom. Opening the door while he leaves wet kisses up and down your neck with the goal of leaving marks against your delicate skin. 
“Wonwoo,” you sigh, your smaller hands gripping his biceps as he lays you down on the bed. 
Wonwoo doesn’t rush, taking his time to strip you of your clothes. His hands breeze against the bare skin of your stomach, pulling up your top along the way. Eyes zeroing in on the black lace that’s clad against your breasts, he can feel the drool starting to pool in his mouth. 
Your skirt is next, and with a hawk eye, he watches the way you lift your hips as he brings down the one thing that's obstructing him from completely devouring you. 
“Please, I wanna go faster,” you whine, squirming under his touch. 
Wonwoo refuses, he needs this moment to seep into his brain until it’s all he can see when his eyes are closed. The desperation emitting from you is almost tangible, but he can’t bring himself to waste a precious second. 
One leg after the other, and finally you’re bare, partially exposed under his body. 
Ready. Waiting. 
“I wanna savour you, darling,” Wonwoo’s baritone voice reverberates against the four walls that enclose the both of you. 
You sigh with annoyance and it only intrigues Wonwoo further. He never thought your brattiness would translate to the bedroom. How naive of him to think otherwise. Excitement courses through his veins, imagining all the fun he’s about to have with you. 
“Just fuck me please, I wanna feel you inside me,” you whisper in his ear, bringing him closer to you. 
“Holy shit, you can’t talk like that or I’ll have to give you what you want.” He groans, hooked on how sexy you sound. 
The cheeky smile you give him returns, and he’s bewitched by your beautiful features. Fully naked before him except for your bra and panties. 
Pinning you against the bed, Wonwoo regains control over his thoughts, the same thoughts that are screaming at him to take you in one go. He rebukes those sentiments, he knows what he wants. 
He knows what you need. 
“But I wanna know what it’s like. I know you wanna fuck me, so just do it.” 
Wonwoo almost loses his vision with the mere utterance of your words. How much of a nymph do you become once you’re horny? Something about the way you speak is so saccharine, putting him in a trance. You could force him into murdering someone with that tone, and he would do it with a smile on his face.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, baby,” his voice strains, the control he once had starting to lose itself within your lustful gaze. 
Thinking of ways to stop you from saying anything more, he rips your panties off in one go. Nimble fingers graze against your plush thighs, squeezing and pinching where he can. 
The whimper you let out is nothing but music to his ears. Seeing you desperate for his touch causes him to focus on his end goal. He wants you to unravel before him, deflowering you till you’re fucked out and panting his name. 
As he spreads your legs, he can’t help but allow his nose to trail against your inner thighs, inhaling the scent of your body emitted under the heat of his touch. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the apex of your sex, glasses fogged while the bridge of his nose is rubbing against your skin. 
Wonwoo finally allows himself to dive in. Ripping the frames off his face, teasing your folds with wet, hot kisses. He repeats his actions till you're moaning deliriously under him. 
“W-Wonwoo, please, fuck,” you cry out while he watches your hole clenching around nothing. 
One of the hands that was holding your thighs down moves to your entrance, teasing you before he slowly inserts a finger inside you. Your head hits the pillows while your eyes are screwed shut, and Wonwoo relishes in your pleasure. 
“God you’re so fucking tight, so wet,” Wonwoo mutters before licking at your clit. 
Nothing is more euphoric than hearing you struggle to contain yourself. His boner getting harder to ignore as the juices from your pussy squelch with every thrust of his finger. 
“Is that what you do when you touch yourself? Using your fingers to fuck this tiny hole?” He asks even though he knows you won’t be able to answer. 
You’re too busy twitching from his hands on you, gripping onto the sheets to the point the threads look like they’re about to tear. 
Wonwoo takes your silence as an answer before fully engulfing your cunt in his mouth. Practically making out with your pussy lips, he licks and rubs your sensitive heat till you writhe against him. 
“You taste so good darling,” he mutters before taking a deep inhale of your musk, “no one’s ever touched you like this huh?” 
“N-no. Just you,” you squeak. 
“Good girl.” 
Hooking your legs over his shoulders, his free hand moves up your body till he’s able to grope at your breasts. The feeling of the lace covering your pert nipples motivates him to make you cum faster. 
Your body vibrates within his hold while he resumes eating you out. Dipping his tongue into your entrance as his thumb goes to rub your clit in sharp circles. He can feel your abdomen retract from his actions. You're close. 
It’s only a matter of time before your juices begin to pour out of your pussy, flooding his mouth with sweet nectar. Wonwoo fully believes he could get drunk from the taste of your cum, the liquid gold dripping down his chin as he slurps and nips at your puffy bundle of nerves. 
“This pussy is mine,” he concludes, slapping your dripping core. 
Eyes drunk with lust, he smiles up at you. A smirk filled with pride as you’re left twitching against the mattress. Hair displaced against the pillowcases, skin glistening under the nebulous light of your lamp. 
Your room is filled with the aroma of sex and sweat, your chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high. Wonwoo’s length straining against his pants, he can’t neglect his need to fuck you for any second longer. 
Laying there, winded from your orgasm, he lets you watch him as he removes the clothes covering his body until there’s nothing left. Wonwoo’s abs and muscular arms flex as he releases himself from his tight pants. He clasps his palm around his cock, rubbing himself while staring down at your fucked out state. Grunts erupt from his throat while he rubs the bead of pre cum dripping down his tip. 
You stare at him, eyes lidded, before sitting up to take off your last piece of clothing. Your breasts bounce as you release them from the confines of your bra. The tip of your fingers graze your nipples, playing with them while Wonwoo stands over you, stroking himself. 
He’s so in deep, it’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt like he’s about to combust in seconds. He hasn’t even been inside of you yet, but he knows he could cum untouched at just the sight of you playing with yourself in front of him. 
“Will you fuck me now? Wanna feel you cum inside me,” you plead with doe eyes, your other hand coming down to your heat. 
He watches you insert a finger in yourself, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his movements. 
Before you can let out another sound of delight, Wonwoo halts whatever he’s doing to flip you around. With you on your stomach, he focuses all his attention on your plump ass. Groping you with rough palms, and your hips fly off the bed to give him better access. 
Retracting his hand, he comes down to you even harder. The slap on your skin echoes throughout your room. You squeak but he can see the juices starting to gush out of your pussy. 
Fuck, Wownoo is obsessed. Obsessed with your neediness, obsessed with the way your ass jiggles with every strike he lands on you. He simply can’t wait to be inside you, engulfed in the heat of your tight walls. 
“Hngh, Wonwoo!” you almost scream, your voice becoming nasally every time he hits you. 
The hand marks on your soft skin drive him crazy, and he knows that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, he’ll cum prematurely. 
“What a needy little thing. You want it that bad huh?” he taunts, spreading your ass cheeks, watching the wetness drip down to your thighs. 
“Please, take me please,” you continue to beg, your voice level as you stare at him over your shoulder. 
Your hips cant back and forth, waving your tight pussy in front of him. Enticing him to fuck you. 
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” Wonwoo grunts, slapping your sopping hole. 
Jerking forward, you let out a salacious moan, eyebrows furrowing as you slump back down onto the bed. 
“I’m being so patient, baby. Just stick your cock in me please,” you fuss, lifting your hips again. 
Wonwoo sighs, turning you over once again so you’re on your back. 
“You’re lucky I love you,” he grunts, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him. 
Sitting on his haunches, he spreads you out, getting the perfect view of your glistening entrance. Taking his dick in his hand, he rubs the tip against your folds. You match his thrusts, moving up as he envelopes the underside of his length between your soaking lips. The sounds emitting from your bodies connecting is sinful and Wonwoo’s jaw goes slack, finally feeling your heat against his manhood. 
“God, this pussy.” 
“Wonwoo, fuck me,” you whimper, grabbing his biceps to pull him against you. 
Engulfing you into a heated kiss, he continues to slide his cock along your slit. The sheer wetness of your pussy lubricates him enough to move with a rushed pace. He’s not even inside you yet and he’s already starting to feel that knot form in his lower stomach. 
“You gonna be a good girl? Show me how bad you want this cock inside you?” he whispers, lips brushing along your own. 
“Yes. fuck yes,” you pant breathlessly. 
Slotting his arm between the two of you, he finally aligns his length with your entrance. He can feel you trying to get him inside you, thrusting up slightly to try and catch the tip so it pushes into your awaiting heat. 
But before you can get away with your tricks, he slaps your thighs. Wonwoo’s large hand presses you down firmly before you can get any further. 
“Liar. You said you were gonna be a good girl,” he spits, “don’t get impatient or I'm gonna leave you lying here without cumming again.” 
You pout at his words. Your cheeks are hot, and your eyes are teary. The things you make him feel, it’s unmatched. 
“Gonna breed this little cunt till you're stuffed full,” he groans, finally inserting his dick inside your heat. 
The gasp you let out is high-pitched. And Wonwoo’s head falls against the space within the dip of your shoulder. His hands are firm against your waist, thrusting into you until he’s fully sheathed in your pussy. Being inside you was like dipping into molten lava, the heat of your cunt enveloping him with such a tight grip he almost faints upon entering you.  
“How are you so tight?” Wonwoo curses. “You feel so good, baby.” 
He didn’t expect you to be gripping his cock like this. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. Your pussy is made for him with how snugly he fits inside you. 
“It’s so big, fuck!” you moan, breathing heavily. 
Wonwoo doesn’t give you enough time to adjust to his length, even though he should. Blinded by searing hot pleasure, he begins to pound in and out of you. Skin slapping as his thrusts become erratic. With eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull at his strands of hair and he groans at the pain that mixes with the high your cunt gives him. 
At that moment, Wonwoo concludes that he doesn’t want anyone but you. For as long as he can, he wants to be the only one to fuck you, to give you orgasm after orgasm. Until you're spent and in and out of consciousness, he wants to be the only one who can make you feel this way. 
As if a curse is placed on him, your phone buzzes against your nightstand. Seokmin’s contact is on clear display for both of you to see. Wonwoo ceases his movements, sitting up and grabbing your phone from the nightstand. 
“Answer it,” he speaks firmly. 
“What?” 
“You heard me. Answer it and show him I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” 
There’s a flash of panic in your eyes, but Wonwoo knows you’ll obey his wishes anyway. He knows how deeply you’ve fallen for him. You can’t refuse him despite the compromising circumstances, and he’ll continue to use it to his advantage. 
Length still buried to the hilt inside you, you swipe at your phone to answer. Wonwoo presses the speaker button before resuming his rushed pace. Bullying your hole while you attempt to at least seem coherent enough to answer Seokmin. 
“Seokmin?” You whisper, trying your best to conceal the moans that are threatening to slip past your lips. 
“Hey. I just wanted to call and say sorry about earlier. That was stupid of me—,” Seokmin attempts to get his apology in but he’s cut off by your moans. 
Wonwoo slaps your clit while thrusting inside you, his length enveloped in your velvety walls. 
“You okay?” Seokmin asks you, and Wonwoo’s satisfied by the scene in front of him. 
You’re flustered and trying your best not to reveal that you’re being fucked hard by your boyfriend, while your ex-friend is trying to reconnect with you. Key word, trying. 
“Tell him you don’t want to ever see him again,” Wonwoo grunts out as he continues to fill you up deliciously, thrusting inside you hard enough that Seokmin could probably hear it over the phone. 
“Fuck! Wonwoo! ‘M sorry Seokmin, but I don’t want you to talk to me anymore. Please, don’t contact me again.” Whimpers escape your lips and Seokmin stutters over the speaker. 
Wonwoo knows that Seokmin is aware of what’s happening on your side of the phone call. The line goes dead the moment you utter your last words to him. 
“Bet you liked that huh? You like it when I show everyone that you’re mine?” Wonwoo emphasizes while he continues to push past your entrance. 
“Yes. Shit,” you mewl out, clenching your walls against his thick cock. 
The ridges of your pussy massage Wonwoo in the most perfect way. Throwing his head back the slightest bit, he watches how his dick moves in and out of you. The creamy ring of your mixed juices pooling at the end of his hardness only arouses him further. 
“You gonna let me cum inside you?” Wonwoo questions, not to ask, but to make sure you’re prepared to feel his seed seeping into you. 
“Mhm. I wanna feel you fill me up,” you let out a breathy moan. 
Tossing you onto your stomach, Wonwoo pulls out and grapples you into the position he wants you in. Clutching onto your hips, he sits on his heels while forcing you onto his thighs. Your back against his chest, head lazing back onto his shoulder while Wonwoo’s muscular bicep wraps around your neck, placing you into a headlock. 
Entering your abused cunt once again, he assaults your pussy with enough force and strength to send you into another dimension. Wonwoo bounces you on his cock and you’re screaming his name at this point. His balls slap against your ass cheeks, while the juices from your hole drip down and onto his thighs. 
“I-I’m gonna cum,” you wail, your walls spasming. 
Wonwoo's balls retract while your pussy pulsates, your cum coating his dick. He pumps into you one more time until his sticky release fills your walls. The flood of semen overflowing while his red tip kisses your cervix, holding you firmly in place as he continues to cum inside you. 
“Hmph, it’s so good. Your cock feels so good,” your words are slurred as Wonwoo releases you from the headlock. 
Body slumping over, you push your ass in the air, giving Wonwoo the most delectable view of his cum overflowing past the lips of your bruised cunt. The thick white substance comes out in globs as you lay down with your legs spread. 
Wonwoo can feel the twitch in his cock, almost coming back to life as he watches your little pussy push out his cum. 
“You were so good darling, so good for me,” he mutters, kissing your temple as you lay there spent and exhausted. 
“Fucking love you and your big cock,” you mutter, turning around to kiss him passionately. 
Pride blooms within his chest, knowing he was your first. The elation Wonwoo feels is comparable to when you confessed your love for him. 
He’s finally won. You’re his, and he can’t wait to show you how much he loves you every chance he gets. Not only by fucking your brains out but also with dates and random acts of affection. He can’t wait to show you off, to let the world know that you’re his best friend and girlfriend. 
“Gonna clean you up okay? Then we can take a shower,” he imparts, wrapping you up in your blankets so you don’t get cold. 
“Wonwoo?” 
“Yes, baby?” 
“I love you,” you call out, smiling at him lazily, your eyes tired but full of fondness. 
“I love you, too.” 
Wonwoo woke up that morning feeling refreshed. The sunlight beaming down on him through your curtains. Your nude body is pressing into him. He loves how he can observe you so closely, taking note of every line and freckle on your skin. The rays of the sun hit you, causing your skin to glow beautifully. Your breath steady as you sleep peacefully, curled against his side. 
Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he was lying there admiring you and how gorgeous you are, but his excitement spiked when you began to stir. 
“Good morning darling,” he whispers wistfully in your ear. 
The smile that tugs along your lips makes his heart flutter, and he swears he’s never felt this whole in so long. He can’t remember the last time he felt happiness in its true form. The closest thing that made him experience this type of joy was that night in his bedroom watching NANA with you when you two were still in high school. 
“Morning,” your voice is sickly sweet, enough to have him grinning at such early hours in the day. 
Shifting from your spot, you prop yourself up using your forearms, hair moves swiftly with your movements.
“Sleep well?” 
There’s a shy smile on your face, eyes twinkling with the sunlight, and Wonwoo can only presume that it was you recollecting the memories of last night. 
“The best,” you mumble, leaning in to peck his lips. 
What was meant to be an innocent peck turns into something more heated. Wonwoo grabs you so you’re sitting on his lap, a squeak erupting from your throat as he manhandles you. 
“Wonwoo!” you yelp, slapping his bare chest. 
He doesn’t respond to your dumbstruck reaction, instead, he continues to kiss you, harder than before. That morning he woke up a victim to morning wood, and the only way he could even fathom relieving himself was to fuck you senseless. 
The angle he has you in is sinful, your bare cunt rubbing against his length, his hands firm on your hips, rubbing your folds against the underside of his cock. 
Your head is thrown back, submitting to the pleasure that Wonwoo continues to give you. Removing his hands, he lets you move on your own accord while he focuses on your breasts. His large hands squeeze the flesh, pinching your nipples till your eyebrows are strewn tight. 
“Oh fuck…,” your voice trails, your head coming down, entranced by how Wonwoo’s hardness slides between your pussy lips. 
Wonwoo groans, trying his best not to cum from how wet you’ve become from a little bit of foreplay. It almost feels like he’s still dreaming, watching your hips sway against him. The fuzzy feeling in his brain doesn’t cease, the same fuzziness he felt last night while you were under him, screaming his name. 
“You like that, huh?” He mutters against your skin, trailing kisses all over your chest. 
The same hands that were fondling your round breasts come down to your ass, lifting you. There is a whine that leaves you, and Wonwoo can feel your disappointment from the loss of contact. 
The whine you let out dies quickly as Wonwoo forces you down on his erect cock, pushing your hips till you’ve fit the whole thing inside you. The breath is knocked out of his throat as your warm walls welcome him back into your heat. Being inside you is life-changing, his hand dull in comparison to the feeling your tight hole gives him. 
“So big,” is all you can say. 
“Wanna see you ride me, baby,” he breathes out, trying to centre himself so he doesn’t spurt his cum inside you before you even get to move. 
Your fingers dig into the skin on his shoulders, and slowly, you lift yourself off him before slamming back down. Wonwoo grunts at your speed, not expecting you to use so much force. 
“Shit. Slow down darling,” he sputters, trying to control the way you're bouncing furiously on him. 
“I don’t wanna, it feels too good,” you pout, staring down at him with the most lewd expression. 
Your jaw goes slack, panting for him like a dog in heat. He can feel your walls clench with each stride you take and the words he had on the tip of his tongue evaporate into thin air. He knows if he allows you to continue he won’t be able to savour you on top of him. 
Instead of flipping you on your back, Wonwoo’s arms wrap around you, bringing you close to his chest. His feet are planted firmly against the mattress, he holds you tightly before fucking up into your delicious cunt. 
“This pussy is fucking mine,” he growls, emphasizing his words with each thrust. 
“Baby, I-I can’t, I wanna cum,” you sob, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. 
“Cum for me darling, give it to me,” and as if on command, you do exactly that. 
Wonwoo’s palms drift to your ass, spreading your cheeks, squeezing them tight as he forces you to match his pace. Almost blinded by the sheer pleasure, he pumps into you a few more times before his semen floods your insides, thick and warm, it mixes with the nectar dripping from your heat. As he releases, he keeps his hands firmly on your waist, plugging you to ensure none of his cum spills out. 
The two of you lay like that for a while, catching your breath after Wonwoo had fucked your brains out. Again. In all honesty, he’s convinced that he’ll never get tired of fucking you. 
“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” you sigh, voice muffled as you rest along the slope of his shoulder. 
“So we can’t go again?” Wonwoo asks, feigning innocence, “Hey! Ow!” 
The playful slap you give him on his bicep stings as he chuckles at your wordless response. 
“No more,” you refuse his request. 
“Oh, Wonwoo! You’re so big!” he imitates your voice from earlier, teasing you until you beg him to stop. 
Propping yourself up, his flaccid cock slips out of you, the cum spilling onto his abdomen. 
“You fucker!” you hit his chest again and Wonwoo erupts into a fit of laughter. 
“Oh baby, this pussy is mine.” Your voice lowered in multiple octaves, copying the words he spoke out of lust, “Not so funny now, is it?” 
Wonwoo continues to crack up at your embarrassed state, eyes turning to slits as he tries to calm himself down. 
“Actually, it’s pretty funny,” he attests, grabbing your chin to kiss your cheek. 
“Fine. I won’t say anything while we’re doing it anymore.” You complain, but he knows you secretly love it. 
Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow up at you, in love with your playful side. Still sitting on his lap naked while you’re bickering with him is just as hot as you riding him with your boobs in his face. 
“That wouldn’t stop me,” he shrugs, pretending to act nonchalant. 
The best part of fucking you is how vocal you are, and it drives him insane. 
“Whatever you horny loser,” you roll your eyes. 
Grabbing your arms he pulls you down against him again, kissing your neck, and he can feel you relax under his touch. 
“Says the one who has a massive dildo in their drawer,” he whispers in your ear before falling back onto the mattress, chuckling at your dumbfounded state. 
“I’ve already told you! It was a gift from June and it's unused,” you huff, emphasizing the word unused. 
“Sure it is,” he drawls, not convinced. 
“I'm serious! I literally took it out of the box before beating you with it.” 
“Whatever you say, darling,” he snickers before enveloping you in his arms, “let’s use it next time, yeah?” 
For the rest of the day, you both lay there, talking about the most random things after a long but steamy shower. With fresh sheets on the bed, the atmosphere is filled with nothing but warmth and utter joy. 
This past month or two has been a whirlwind of realizations. Realizations that have shifted the world around him into something beautiful. If someone had told him at the beginning of the school year that he would find a new meaning of love in you, he would’ve laughed with disbelief. But now that you’re here, sitting beside him with the most angelic smile on your face, he recognizes just how much comfort a single person can bring. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore while he visited his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.
Even though he regrets not confronting his feelings for you sooner, he can’t find a reason to complain. Everything had fallen into place, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he realized that the one person he was searching for was in front of him this whole time. 
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epilogue. 
freshman year of university. 
[8:56 p.m.]  [you: raval tonite w junepi and the others?]  [wons <3: yeah but can we leave early? i wanna play league after :)]  [you: is this u tryna get out of drinking by being my dd?]  [wons <3: maybe] [you: fineee but we leave at 12] [wons <3: anything for u darling]  [you: darling?]  [wons <3: u like it?]  [you: yes!! its cute hehe]  [wonwoo has changed your nickname to “darling <3”] 
the end.
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⊹ a/n: thank you for reading this story! this thing is my baby and i would love to hear your thoughts :) i appreciate everyone who took their time reading it because i poured my whole heart into it :") thank you again and see you in the next fic ♡ please rmbr to reblog and share your thoughts :3 it motivates me to continue writing stories like these for u ♡
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starkwlkr · 2 days ago
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she’s always a woman | max verstappen
an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader
tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother
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Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.
KARTING DAYS
At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.
“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.
“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.
“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.
It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.
Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.
As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.
Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.
“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.
“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.
“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”
The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.
Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.
All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .
Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.
The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.
“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.
“But she wasn’t!”
“She was.” Jos confirmed.
Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.
As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.
2021 SEASON
Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.
It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.
The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.
“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"
Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.
“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."
“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."
“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.
You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."
After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.
Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.
“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.
“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."
Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.
“Max," you began, but he cut you off.
“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”
Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.
Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.
“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."
Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"
Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.
Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.
Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.
"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.
His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.
Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.
When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.
“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.
“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”
“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”
“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.
“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."
“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”
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QATAR
The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.
“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”
He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.
“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”
A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.
“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”
His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.
“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”
Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.
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ABU DHABI
It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.
The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.
All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.
“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.
Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”
She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”
Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”
Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.
Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.
“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”
Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”
Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”
Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”
Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”
His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.
“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”
Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.
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The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.
You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.
You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.
You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.
But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.
“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.
Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.
“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.
“You won. Congratulations.”
Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”
You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”
Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”
You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”
Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.
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“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”
Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.
While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.
“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”
Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”
Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”
The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.
Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”
You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.
“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”
That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”
“We both did. I owe it all to you.”
839 notes · View notes
kiwriteswords · 1 day ago
Note
could you write a hotch x reader story where reader is literally a knockout bombshell and the team meets her for the first time and both are humbled and shocked tht Hotch could pull that. Also maybe she works in different department of the FBI, but not BAU and derek and others have always talked about how hot reader is but happy id they cnt have reaader that hotch can!
The Beauty and The Boss
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Masterlist || Ao3
AN: Thanks so much for the request! Sorry, it took me so long to get it written :)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Tags/Warnings: Mild language, fade-to-black smut scene, reader wears makeup, workplace flirting, commentary about reader's appearance by BAU, jealous!Hotch, mention of a Holiday party, mentions of a bar scene.
Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism hides a secret: he’s been in a relationship with you, the stunning agent who turns every head at Quantico. While his team spends months admiring and teasing about you—unaware of the truth—Hotch quietly enjoys keeping the relationship private. But when the BAU holiday party reveals the truth, the team is left shocked, realizing the woman they’ve been swooning over is already spoken for by the man they least expected.
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The Quantico breakroom buzzed with life as Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, a grin stretching across his face. “I’m telling you, there’s not a person in this building who doesn’t turn their head when she walks by.”
Emily Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms as she perched on the edge of the counter. “Understatement of the year, Morgan. She’s practically stopped traffic in the hallways more than once.”
Penelope Garcia, seated with her tablet, chimed in. “More like a goddess descended from Mount Olympus, wielding a to-do list and a killer power suit. The woman is unreal.”
You had no idea you were the current topic of conversation as you breezed through Quantico’s corridors. Your heels clicked against the tiled floor with the kind of authority only a seasoned professional carried. Your fitted blazer hugged your form just right, the kind of attire that screamed competence but still left a trail of stunned admirers in your wake. You were a boss, and you knew it—not in an arrogant way, but in the way a woman who worked twice as hard to get half as far in a male-dominated field knew her worth.
Little did they know that, as much as they admired you from afar, you had a certain someone who saw all those layers they missed—someone who knew how you carried the weight of your team, your projects, and your life with equal parts grace and grit.
That someone was Aaron Hotchner.
Unbeknownst to the BAU, the stoic Unit Chief had been keeping a significant secret. You and Aaron had been together for over a year. Though you both worked under the same massive roof, your respective departments didn’t often overlap—an intentional boundary to keep things professional and out of sight from prying eyes.
Aaron entered the room just as Morgan’s laughter rang out. “No, but seriously, Hotch, you’ve seen her, right? You can’t tell me someone that fine doesn’t have half the men here wrapped around her finger.”
Aaron’s sharp gaze flicked to Morgan, his jaw tightening subtly. “Morgan, shouldn’t you be focusing on case files rather than office gossip?”
Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, man, beauty like that deserves to be appreciated.”
Emily grinned. “Don’t let Strauss hear you. She’d have you running sensitivity training for a month.”
Garcia waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe Hotch is just annoyed because she’s his type. Dark hair, smart, confident—maybe there’s some unspoken pining we don’t know about.”
Aaron’s lips pressed into a firm line as he reached for a file, “Let’s keep the speculation to yourselves. We have enough on our plates without playing matchmaker.” His tone was calm but carried enough weight to signal the end of the conversation.
He didn’t let his composure falter, but inwardly, he found himself caught in a tug-of-war between amusement and annoyance. You were undeniably stunning, and he couldn’t blame his team for noticing, but their casual banter skirted dangerously close to the truth.
Later that afternoon, the sun streamed through the tall windows of the BAU bullpen, casting golden streaks across the room as you entered. Your heels echoed confidently against the polished floor, their rhythmic click commanding attention as you moved with purpose. A fitted pencil skirt emphasized the natural sway of your hips, and your blazer was tailored perfectly, hinting at the strength and grace beneath. Loose curls framed your face, falling just so, and your makeup—subtle but flawless—added to the aura of a woman who meant business.
Conversations quieted as you passed by the desks. Agents glanced up from their work, some stealing longer looks than they should have, while others leaned toward their neighbors to murmur something under their breath. You didn’t acknowledge the attention. You were used to it. Your focus remained locked ahead as you carried the neatly bound folder in your hands, its weight a mere fraction of the responsibility you carried daily.
You reached the door to Aaron Hotchner’s office just as it opened. He stepped out, his posture as straight and commanding as ever, but his sharp eyes softened for the briefest moment when they landed on you. The shift was imperceptible to anyone else, but you caught it—it was the kind of look he reserved only for you.
“Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted evenly, his voice steady but low enough that it felt personal.
“Agent Hotchner,” you replied with a nod, the professionalism in your tone betrayed by the faint twitch of a smile at the corner of your lips.
Behind you, Morgan's voice rose in a stage whisper. “And there she is…”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your expression neutral as you extended the folder to Aaron. “I just need your signature on these budgetary adjustments. It’s time-sensitive.”
Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly as he accepted the folder, his long fingers brushing against yours briefly. “Of course,” he said, already flipping it open to skim through the pages. “Give me a moment.”
As he turned and walked back into his office, you followed without hesitation, pushing the door closed behind you. The muted sound of the latch clicking shut seemed to signal a shift in the atmosphere. The second the door was closed, your composed expression melted into something softer, teasing.
“I heard Morgan,” you said in a low voice, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes. You set a hand on your hip, leaning slightly as you watched him work.
Aaron’s lips curved into a subtle smirk as he scribbled his signature onto the documents. “They talk about you often,” he replied, not looking up right away. “Morgan more than most.”
You tilted your head, your brow arching playfully. “Jealous?”
Finally, he looked up, setting the pen down and stepping closer. “Observant,” he corrected, his tone dry but his gaze warm. He handed the folder back to you, and as his fingers brushed yours again, the slightest spark of electricity passed between you. “You look stunning today, by the way.”
“Today?” you teased, your voice dropping slightly as you tilted your chin. “What about yesterday?”
Aaron’s smirk deepened, the rare expression enough to make your stomach flip. “Every day,” he replied smoothly, his voice dipping into that low, velvety tone that sent a thrill through you. He stepped just close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne—subtle and clean, just like him.
For a moment, the space between you felt charged, but you straightened, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. “Careful, Agent Hotchner,” you said, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Someone might notice.”
He chuckled softly, the sound rare but rich. “Let them speculate.”
The corner of your mouth twitched in amusement, but you turned on your heel, your exit as purposeful as your arrival. Behind you, Aaron watched, his expression softening again as the door clicked shut. The office suddenly felt emptier without you in it, and the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips.
Moments after, when you stepped out of Aaron’s office, the door closing softly behind you, you nearly collided with David Rossi. The veteran profiler stepped back gracefully, offering you a warm smile as his eyes flicked to the folder in your hands.
“Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted smoothly, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “You’re lucky Hotch doesn’t have a ‘No Stunning Women’ policy in his office. Makes the rest of us forget what we’re working on.”
You gave a polite laugh, your smile measured but warm. “Always a pleasure, Agent Rossi. Don’t let me distract you too much.” With a nod, you stepped past him and continued down the hall, your heels clicking confidently on the polished floor.
Rossi watched you leave, shaking his head slightly before stepping into Hotch’s office, and shutting the door behind him. “You didn’t tell me your office doubled as a runway, Aaron,” Rossi quipped as he took a seat across from Hotch’s desk, still grinning.
Hotch didn’t look up from the report in front of him. “Rossi.”
“I’m just saying,” Rossi continued, leaning back in his chair. “Agent Y/L/N is quite the… presence. Can’t imagine you get much work done when she’s around.”
Hotch finally glanced up, his sharp eyes locking on Rossi with a calm but pointed look. “She’s one of the most competent agents in this building.”
Rossi raised his hands in mock surrender, the grin still on his face. “No offense, Aaron. I’m just appreciating fine talent when I see it. Professionally, of course.”
Hotch’s expression didn’t shift as he returned to his paperwork. “Make sure it stays professional, Dave.”
Rossi chuckled, standing up and adjusting his suit jacket. “Noted. I’ll leave you to your work, but for the record… you’ve got good taste.”
Hotch’s eyes flicked up for a brief moment, narrowing slightly as Rossi turned to leave. Once the door closed behind him, Aaron exhaled, his jaw relaxing as the corners of his mouth twitched faintly. You had that effect on people. Rossi wasn’t wrong about that, but Aaron wasn’t about to let anyone reduce you to just that. Not on his watch.
It wasn’t much later in the week when the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses filled the dimly lit bar as the BAU team finally unwound after wrapping a grueling case. At their usual table near the back, JJ, Penelope, and Emily leaned close together, conspiring with mischievous smiles. Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, his beer in hand, as he glanced across the room toward you.
You were with your own team, sitting at the far end of the bar. The laughter coming from your group was infectious, and more than a few heads in the bar had turned to admire the sharp, confident woman at the center of it all. You were a vision, dressed in a fitted, dark emerald blouse that complemented your glowing skin, your hair falling perfectly into place despite the long week.
Emily nudged Derek, her grin widening. “Now’s your chance, Morgan. She’s right there, and she’s smiling. That’s basically an invitation.”
Penelope nodded eagerly, swirling her cocktail. “Seriously, Derek. You’re Mr. Smooth—to make one of your famous sweet moves. She’s gorgeous, brilliant, and, let’s face it, probably way out of your league, but you’ve got charm. Use it!”
JJ smirked, sipping her drink. “They’re not wrong. She’s definitely the type to keep you on your toes.”
Derek chuckled, shaking his head, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment. “You ladies make a good point. Pretty boy over here has been staring so hard, I think he forgot how to blink.”
Reid’s head snapped up, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I haven’t been staring—I was observing!”
Penelope laughed, reaching out to pat his arm. “Sure, sweetie. Keep telling yourself that.”
Meanwhile, Aaron Hotchner sat quietly at the edge of the table, nursing his drink and doing his best to keep his expression neutral. He caught Rossi’s amused glance and ignored it, his attention drifting toward you. Across the room, your eyes flicked to his, and in that instant, the noise of the bar seemed to fade. Your lips curved into a soft, knowing smile, and Hotch’s lips twitched in response, his gaze steady but warm.
“Alright,” Derek announced, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Time to show you all how it’s done.”
As he sauntered toward you, the rest of the team watched with poorly concealed anticipation. Hotch leaned back slightly, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he took another sip of his drink, clearly amused.
At the bar, Derek slid into the seat beside you, his trademark charm on full display. “Well, well, Agent Y/L/N,” he began, flashing you a dazzling smile. “A woman like you at a place like this—it’s like a shooting star landing in a parking lot. Rare. Unexpected. Stunning.”
You turned toward him, your smile warm but professional. “Agent Morgan,” you greeted. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I’m just wondering if I can buy you a drink. You look like someone who deserves only the finest.”
You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “That’s kind of you, but I’m good for now. Thank you, though.”
Derek raised an eyebrow, undeterred. “You sure? A woman like you turning down a Morgan Original? That doesn’t happen often.”
You smiled, leaning in slightly, your voice light but firm. “I’m flattered, Derek, really. But no, thank you.”
Derek blinked, clearly surprised but respectful, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame a guy for trying. You have a good night, Agent Y/L/N.”
As he returned to the table, Rossi leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. “I think I know why she turned you down.”
Derek arched a brow. “Oh, yeah? Enlighten us, wise old man.”
Rossi swirled his drink lazily. “She’s already seeing someone.”
That caught the team’s attention. JJ frowned thoughtfully. “She doesn’t wear a ring.”
Emily shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything. Rossi’s probably right—someone like her? Definitely taken.”
Penelope gasped. “She’s got to be dating some rich CEO type. Like a Christian Grey situation—minus the creepy stuff. You know, private jets, expensive suits, maybe even his own island.”
Reid tilted his head. “Statistically, high-powered women often prefer partners who are equally accomplished, so it’s not unreasonable to assume…”
Hotch, listening quietly, couldn’t help but chuckle softly under his breath. It was rare for him to indulge in such amusement, but their wild guesses about your personal life were too far from the truth to resist.
“Something funny, Hotch?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.
Hotch met his gaze evenly, his lips twitching. “Just enjoying the show, Morgan.”
From across the room, you glanced at him again, your eyes meeting his with a spark of shared amusement. You knew, just as he did that the truth was far more satisfying than any of their guesses.
That night, the familiar warmth of your shared apartment enveloped you as you stepped out of the bathroom, your hair still damp from the shower. The soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the room in hues of gold, casting a gentle light over Aaron as he stood at the dresser, folding his tie with precision. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, and his expression was calm, though you could tell from the faint tension in his jaw that something was on his mind.
There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved—calm, methodical, and yet there was an intimacy in the gesture that always left your heart fluttering.
You crossed the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old FBI academy T-shirts that hung just above your thighs. It was soft and familiar, smelling faintly of him, and you loved how it made you feel wrapped in his presence.
As you climbed into bed, you leaned back against the headboard, watching him with a small smile. “You’re quiet tonight,” you teased, running a hand through your damp hair. “That’s usually my thing.”
Aaron glanced at you, his lips quirking slightly before he shook his head and continued folding. “I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
He sighed, placing the tie in the drawer before turning to face you, his arms crossing over his chest. “My team.”
You raised a brow, leaning forward slightly. “Oh? What did the BAU do this time?”
Aaron smirked faintly, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his watch. “It’s not what they’ve done. It’s what they keep saying.”
You tilted your head, your curiosity piqued. “Do tell.”
He exhaled, his voice even but carrying a hint of frustration. “They don’t stop talking about you. Derek, Emily, Penelope… even Reid, apparently. It’s constant.” He turned to look at you, his dark eyes warm but serious. “I’ve been patient. I’ve let it slide because they don’t know. But I think I’ve hit my limit.”
A slow smile spread across your face as you scooted closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You’re jealous,” you teased, your voice light and laced with amusement. “Aaron Hotchner, stoic leader of the BAU, is jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” he replied firmly, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed him. “I just don’t appreciate them… ogling you.”
You chuckled softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin against his shoulder. “You know I think it’s kind of hot when you’re jealous, right?”
He turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression softening. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” you said with a grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s sweet that you care so much. But you don’t have to worry, Aaron. I’m yours. Completely.”
He turned fully now, his hands coming up to rest on your knees as he looked at you with a rare softness in his eyes. “You have no idea how much I appreciate hearing that.”
You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “Good. Because it’s true.”
He kissed you back gently, one hand sliding up to cradle your cheek. When you pulled away, you saw the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Aaron lingered close for a moment, his thumb brushing your cheek in a rare display of vulnerability before he exhaled softly and pulled back. Standing, he moved toward the dresser with the same calm, deliberate manner that always captivated you.
His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, working them loose one by one. The sound of each button sliding free seemed amplified in the quiet of your shared space. You couldn’t help but admire the way the soft light played over his features—his strong jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and the faint lines around his eyes that only made him more striking.
Aaron shrugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and the scar along his side that you knew he sometimes still tried to hide. He folded the shirt with the same precision as his tie, setting it neatly aside before slipping out of his slacks and into the lounge pants he favored at night.
“Don’t stop on my account,” you teased, your voice warm and playful as your eyes lingered on him.
He glanced back at you with a small, knowing smile. “Enjoying the show?”
You grinned. “Always.”
Aaron shook his head slightly, his smirk growing as he crossed the room and slid into bed beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the familiar warmth of his body radiated toward you as he leaned back against the pillows, one arm sliding around your waist to pull you close.
“You really don’t have to worry about what your team says,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest. “I only have eyes for you.”
His hand came up to cup your cheek, gently tilting your face toward his. “You’re sure about that?” he asked softly, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed the question’s seriousness.
“I’m sure,” you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one who gets this version of me. The rest of them don’t even come close.”
Aaron deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that still sent your heart racing. His hand slid down to your hip, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair, and for a moment, the world outside your shared room ceased to exist.
The soft rustle of sheets and the low hum of your shared laughter filled the space as your words became unspoken reassurances, translated into the way he touched you, the way he held you, the way he kissed you as though you were his lifeline.
In the darkness, as the lamp flicked off and the night stretched on, you made it perfectly clear—he was yours, and you were his, completely. Always.
The annual Bureau holiday party arrived soon after and was in full swing, the large event hall buzzing with laughter and conversation as agents and staff mingled under the soft glow of festive string lights. Tables lined with food and drinks flanked the room, and a DJ played a mix of holiday classics and upbeat pop songs. The BAU team had claimed a table near the center, already deep into their drinks and holiday banter.
Derek leaned back in his chair, scanning the room with an easy grin. “Alright, I’m calling it now. This year’s party MVP? Gotta be me. I’ve got the charm, the moves, and the mistletoe strategy ready to go.”
Emily rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. “Your confidence is astounding. Let’s see how it plays out when someone turns you down again.”
Penelope chuckled, adjusting the festive reindeer antlers perched on her head. “Maybe don’t aim for anyone who’s already out of your league, like a certain Agent Y/L/N.”
“They’re never letting that one down,” Reid laughed. 
Derek smirked. “She’s not here yet, but hey, holiday parties are all about surprises. Maybe she’ll get a look and change her mind?”
JJ raised a brow. “Speaking of surprises… does anyone else feel like Hotch is acting weird lately? He’s been way too quiet during our usual teasing.” Will was at her side, with an arm wrapped over her shoulders. 
Rossi, swirling his glass of whiskey, gave a knowing smirk but said nothing.
The conversation halted abruptly as the door to the hall opened, and heads turned to see Aaron Hotchner entering with you at his side.
The two of you stepped into the room, hand in hand, your fingers loosely intertwined as Aaron scanned the crowd with his usual composed demeanor. You looked radiant in a fitted emerald dress, its sleek design effortlessly elegant, while Aaron’s sharp black suit was understated yet commanding.
The BAU table fell silent, their jaws collectively dropping.
“Is that…?” Penelope started, blinking rapidly.
“Hotch,” JJ finished, her voice barely above a whisper. Will let out a breathy laugh. 
“And Agent Y/L/N,” Emily added, looking between the two of you as if she’d seen a ghost.
Morgan leaned forward, his grin faltering. “No way.”
Hotch’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as he caught their stunned expressions. He led you toward the table with a calm confidence, his hand still firmly in yours.
“Evening, everyone,” he greeted, his tone as steady as ever.
You smiled warmly, giving a little wave with your free hand. “Hi, guys. Hope we’re not late.”
The team exchanged glances, still struggling to process what they were seeing.
Derek was the first to recover, though his grin was more sheepish than his usual swagger. “Well, damn. Hotch, you really know how to keep a secret.”
Hotch arched a brow, his hand resting protectively on your back as he pulled out a chair for you. “It’s never been a secret. Some things are worth keeping private.”
Emily leaned closer to Penelope, muttering, “Okay, I officially feel bad for every single comment I’ve ever made about her in front of him.”
Penelope nodded vigorously. “Same. Oh my gosh, same.”
JJ shook her head, laughing softly. “And Derek, all the flirting?”
Morgan held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t know! But I’ll admit when I’m beat. Respect, Hotch. You’re a lucky man.”
Hotch’s expression softened slightly as he glanced at you. “I know.”
Rossi, still sipping his drink, chuckled. “For the record, I knew when to quit. The first time I made a comment about her, the look Hotch gave me said everything I needed to know.”
You raised a brow, your lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh? And what look was that?”
Rossi smirked. “The one that says, ‘Say one more word, and you’re not making it to retirement.’”
“Back into retirement,” Hotch corrected with an amused look. The table erupted into laughter.
Emily leaned forward, her curiosity winning out. “Alright, spill. How long has this been going on?”
You exchanged a glance with Aaron, his hand still resting lightly on your back.
“A little over a year,” you admitted, and Hotch nodded. 
“A year?” Penelope gasped. “And you managed to keep it quiet this long? I’m impressed.”
Hotch’s gaze swept over his team, his voice calm but with a subtle warmth. “We wanted to keep things professional. But we both agreed it was time.” A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes as he added, “Especially before one of you asked her out on a date next.”
The team erupted into laughter, though Derek groaned, throwing his head back. “Aw, come on, Hotch! You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”
Emily smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You really did shoot your shot, Morgan. Respect for the boldness, but hindsight? Not your best moment.”
Penelope covered her mouth with her hand, barely containing her giggles. “I’m never going to stop picturing Hotch sitting back in his office, watching that go down and just... waiting.”
JJ joined in, shaking her head with a grin. “Honestly, Derek, if looks could kill…”
Derek held up his hands in surrender, chuckling despite himself. “Alright, alright! I didn’t know, okay? And for the record, I was nothing but a gentleman.”
You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you smiled at him. “You were, Derek. I thought it was sweet.”
“Sweet?” Hotch interjected, his tone laced with playful sarcasm as he glanced at you. “I’d call it… bold.”
You nudged his arm with your elbow, your smile widening. “Aaron.”
His lips twitched into a faint smirk as he looked back at the table. “But in all seriousness, I can’t blame anyone for noticing how incredible she is. I just happen to be the lucky one.”
The table quieted for a moment, the sincerity in his tone catching everyone off guard. Emily was the first to break the silence, raising her glass with a grin. “Well, here’s to the two of you. A BAU power couple if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Cheers to that,” Penelope chimed in, her eyes sparkling.
As the team raised their glasses once more, you glanced at Aaron, your fingers brushing his under the table. His quiet smile and the gentle squeeze of your hand told you everything you needed to know. You were his, and he was yours, and no amount of teasing or surprise from his team could change that.
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Tag List:
@zaddyhotch
@estragos
@todorokishoe24
@looking1016
@khxna
@rousethemouse
@averyhotchner
@reidfile
@bernelflo
@lover-of-books-and-tea
@frickin-bats
@sleepysongbirdsings
@justyourusualash
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motorsportbarbie13 · 2 days ago
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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions
In which you interview 2 multi-world champions in one sitting.
Warnings: discussions of the traumatic 2021 Abu Dhabi race (lol) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2k words
- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - Master List
(quick note. shoutout to @shelbyteller for the inspiration for this one. Hope it lives up to your expectations bb!)
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"I can't believe you got him to agree to this." You say, shuffling a few papers on your desk in the Monaco apartment you share with Max.
Max looks at you, brow raised. "Are you kidding me? I didn't have to do any convincing. That man loves you. Honestly, I should probably be a little jealous of how eagerly he agreed to come on the show."
You roll your eyes, knowing that Max is being ridiculous. "As if I'd ever look at anyone but you." You tease, rising from your desk chair before crossing the room to sit on Max's lap.
When you had moved in with Max earlier in the year, one of the things he had insisted on was turning one of the spare rooms in his (well, now it was yours too, he had insisted on putting you on the deed to the property after your engagement, much to the dismay of his lawyer) apartment into a dual recording studio and office for you.
Tucked away in one of the corners was a large mahogany desk that you spent most of your time at. On the other side of the room that's decorated in tones of gold and champagne pink sits your podcasting setup with 2 comfy sitting chairs, microphones, and side tables. It's the perfect cozy setup. You didn't use this room all the time for your guests, a lot of the time you were traveling to meet them. This room was used for when you did your 'bonus session' episodes and when you had more personal friends on the show, like today's guest.
Max wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you closer into his chest. "Have I ever told you that I love you?" He murmurs, breath tickling the shell of your ear.
You hum, small grin spreading across your face as you lean your head further into the crook of his neck. "Not in the last ten minutes."
"Well, let me remedy that terrible fact." Max's lips skate over your jaw before they find their home. "I love you beyond words, schatje." His words are mumbled against your lips but you understand them all the same.
When he slips his tongue into your mouth you can't help the sigh that leaves your body. It doesn't matter how many times Max kisses you because every time his lips land on yours, it feels like the first time.
The make out session continues for several moments before you're interrupted by a buzzing on Max's phone. "Looks like he's here. You ready?"
You glance down at your outfit, casual but put together for the interview that you're sure will make some waves in the F1 world. Not only because of who it is but also because of what you got him to agree to discuss today. "I hope so!"
Max leaves the office to retrieve your guest as you begin prep on the room. You had decided to just run the entire episode by yourself today, giving Steve and Shannon the day off from filming since it was in your home and you liked to keep this environment as relaxed and low key as possible.
Voices float towards you as you finish up the last bits of preparation. And then, they're standing in the doorway.
"I hear congratulations are in order!"
"Lewis!" You croon, setting down the papers in your hands before crossing the room to your friend's opened arms. "Thank you so much."
Lewis chuckles before holding you out at arms length, "Let me see that rock. I'm sure Instagram did it no justice."
You happily hold out your left hand for Lewis to take, grinning like an idiot over his shoulder at Max, who is leaning against the door frame with the same goofy grin on his face. The word 'proud' didn't seem to do what he felt for you in this moment justice.
"He did good, didn't he?"
"Ma'am, that man is so wildly in love with you." Lewis chuckles before looking over his shoulder at Max. "Good taste there, mate."
Max nods. "Thanks. Can I get you anything before you guys get started?"
Lewis shakes his head and just like that, you go into work mode. You give Lewis a brief explanation on how it's going to work, just like you did for Max over a year ago. Meanwhile, Max sits at your desk and watches you work. In the last year, he hasn't really had the opportunity to watch you film and record a show because he's always felt in the way but this time is different. He had been the one to ask Lewis onto the show and it had been Lewis that insisted he stay to watch the entire interview when he had tried to excuse himself moments before.
You were so in your element is left Max in awe. The way you moved around the room with such confidence, setting up the cameras and microphones, talking to Lewis like he was a brother or an old friend, you really commanded the room and made both of these drivers, who were used to wrestling flying torpedos around hairpin curves going fast enough to kill someone was just awe inspiring.
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"Okay, but seriously, before we wrap this up we need to talk about one more thing." You giggle a bit, watching as Lewis reaches down to scratch Rosco on the head.
"Shit." Lewis hisses while Max laughs from his spot at your desk where he's been watching the entire interview quietly. "I thought you were going to forget about that."
You toss your head back, laughing maniacally. "And blow the chance at having two fan bases hate me? As if, Hamilton. Max, do you want to join us?"
Although you have the air of someone who couldn't care less about the upcoming topic, secretly, your stomach twists with anxiety. When Max had suggested the finale to your landmark interview with Lewis and when Lewis had agreed to is, you had been confident that you could handle such a touchy subject but now? Now that you were face with actually having to talk to your friend about it on camera to be released for the entire world to see? You were having second thoughts.
Max stands and sits next to you in the chair that you had pulled out moments before.
"And before we even get started, I want to preface this final segment by saying that you both agreed to this before hand and I am not blindsiding anyone, right?"
Both men grin at you where you sit between them and nod. "We both agreed to this." Lewis says.
"Well I, for one, feel a bit like a hostage here having to agree to this on camera." You reach across and smack Max on the shoulder, causing him to smile even wider. "Yes, of course. We both agreed to this."
"We're a few years removed from the 2021 season. Lewis, looking back do you think there's anything you could have done differently to change the outcome?"
Lewis shrugs, "If you would have asked me that a year ago, I would have probably said yes but as we get further away from it I think we did everything we could have. Sometimes, there are decisions made and things happen that are outside of your control. As a racing driver, you want everything to be under your control and even when it's not, it's in our nature to take on everything as if it is under our control."
"Are you calling me a control freak?" Max quips from your other side.
"We're all control freaks, man." Lewis says with a chuckle.
"What's that saying? Hindsight is 20/20? Looking back, there are always things you see and go 'well that was a terrible decision." Max says, smiling over at his rival. "But at the time, we all made what we thought were the best decisions we could with the information we had in front of us. I don't think there was anything either of us could have done to have change the outcome based on what we knew then and there."
You nod, grinning at both of the men. "Can we talk about Abu Dhabi for a second? I don't want to talk about the race, that's been done to death. But, can you walk me through what was going through your head in the days after?"
"I isolated big time." Lewis says, looking down at his hands before reaching to scratch Rosco's head. "I took off and spent time alone and just did a lot of thinking. I hated that my championship came down to the decisions of one man. Had we been better and more consistent the entire year, it wouldn't have come down to the last lap. That was on me and no one else. I had to take that on and figure out how I was going to face the team after letting them down."
"But you didn't let them down." Max insists. "That entire season was a masterclass in never giving up and making something out of nothing. I mean, sure I was the beneficiary of that final call from Race Control but it could have easily went the other way. I don't know what I would have done had I been in your shoes after that race."
"You would have been fine." Lewis says. "You've always been better at compartmentalizing things on the track. I take a lot of my work home with me. It's why I struggle to let people in. I'm often caught up in my own world focusing on what I need to do to perform better and improve, racing takes up my whole life and I'm content with that. You're a different breed. You don't take work home with you and that's how you were able to land this gorgeous girl."
"Hey, lay off the flirting with my fiance." Max snaps good naturdly, reaching for your hand and giving Lewis a wink. "Your singular focus is how you've won so many championships though and no one can fault you for that."
The rest of the interview continues for a few more minutes before you begin to wrap things up. It's been almost two hours at that point and the last 30 minutes of the interview is just Max and Lewis talking racing, Max threatening to retire, and Lewis threatening to pull an Alonso and never retire.
When the episode it released, it is a complete surprise and incredibly well received by everyone inside and outside the F1 community, which was somewhat surprising to you as you know what a hot button issue the 2021 season was and how polarizing discussing that very last race could be. In the end, it's one of your more favorite episodes and it opens up the doors to many more sports interviews, including a partnership with F1 TV for some mid-season post-race work that has you doing even more of what you love: getting to know the people beneath the sheen and shine of their own celebrity.
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TheYappingHour Posted:
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928,991 likes liked by charlesleclerc, ferrari, roscolovescoco, and others theyappinghour newest episode drops today featuring this handsome boy and his dad! ;) make sure you listen to the entire hour...there may be a surprise guest at the end! lewishamilton pleasure being on with you. and once again, congrats on the engagement! max is a lucky man! >>>theyappinghour oh lewis! you're the best. thank you <3 user028 i cannot get over how good she is at making people feel comfortable talking to her about hard things. i've NEVER heard lewis open up about 2021 like that before. >>>user9281 seriously. she is a magician. user0911 the cameo at the end! the yapping about the engagement! lewis sounding so genuinely happy for them! this may just be one of my favorite episodes ever.
tags: @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99
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monstersflashlight · 2 days ago
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Insect anon again. I brought it up because I have been falling in love with tarantula themed driders over normal spider ones. Something I like that would be different is when a tarantula is looking for a mate they'll drum on webbing and enclosures, I think it's cute and I can't stop thinking of a drider who has a crush on reader just drumming their hands against any flat surface when they see their little human. Their webbing isn't strong like normal spiders/driders but is a lot softer (used to make burrows more than catching things)
A/N: Hi darling! I’ve been thinking about this ask/request for a long time (sorry it took so long) and I think it requires a bit of sweetness. Hope you enjoy this short thing!
Tarantula-drider (spider monster) x fem!reader
Drider boyfriend who happens to like your face more than he likes anything else in the universe. Especially when you are writhing in pleasure against his webs.
You met him by accident, tripping over his web when you were trying to get to the supermarket faster. He was just creating the most beautiful and intricate webbing. His face was weird and angular, but also kind of beautiful, you were mesmerized in a second. He stopped dead in his tracks and you thought he was going to get mad at you because you messed the project, but instead he started drumming his hands against the wall next to him, making you smile as you looked at him.
The little stunt of drumming against surfaces didn’t stop there, it was like a stim he did every time you were near. He explained it had to do with his happiness, and how he knew right away you were his mate. And you found it incredibly adorable.
And then, when you less expected it, he turned incredibly kinky. You thought the saying about all driders being into shibari and bondage was a joke, but the first time you two had alone time, he spent hours covering you in his soft webs, until you were nothing but his prey, positioned perfectly for him to do whatever he wanted with you. He ate you out for hours. Hours. Until you were a mess of fluids and screams, until he was satisfied with the amount of times he made you come (too much to count).
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ellecdc · 10 hours ago
Text
no fondling in the dog house
Sirius Black x fem!reader who has to pick him up from the kennel [1.1k words]
CW: talk about fondling bollocks, a police station, Sirius being the least serious person, a good humoured argument between partners, threats of neutering/castration
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“Now, ma’am, you are aware that under the highway code, dogs must be kept on a lead?”
“Yes sir.” You offered as earnestly as you could, though you couldn’t help the indignance that coloured your voice at the fact that you were the one being scolded for this misdemeanour right now. 
“And that they must be accompanied by their owner.” The enforcement officer continued, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow at you for your insolence. 
“Of course; I really am sorry, sir.” You offered more sincerely; you were really very sorry that you were here at all. 
“They’re also meant to be microchipped by the time they are 8-weeks old.” He continued, sifting through the numerous documents you signed after proving that the large black dog that had been picked up by muggle animal control did, indeed, belong to you. 
“Oh, he’s going to be microchipped alright.” You grumbled, adding a quiet “gonna look at having him neutered, too” under your breath. 
The officer ignored you as he called to his coworker to bring the stray out. 
“What did you say his name was again?”
But before you had a chance to answer, his coworker let out a surprised ‘oof’ when you heard the sound of paws galloping down the kennel hall before a large, long-haired black dog came barrelling through the doorway and sat excitedly at your feet.
“Padfoot.” You offered reproachfully, both in answer to the enforcement officer you just spent the past forty minutes being chastised by and in greeting to your boyfriend who was officially in the dog house. 
Padfoot offered you a bark back in response; the enforcement officer still seemed rather displeased with the both of you, but the kennel attendant let out a pleased laugh at the exchange. 
“What the fuck?” You asked the dog, to which he responded by nuzzling against your hand with his snout. You gently shoved it away from you. 
“He’s really quite a well behaved dog.” The attendant offered, either missing the disbelieving and reproving looks from both you and the enforcement officer respectively, or choosing to ignore them. “Usually strays are all stressy and anxious, but he sat patiently during intake and followed me right to the kennel without any hesitation.”
Padfoot looked between you and the attendant as if saying “did you hear that? I was good!” whilst you and the officer both stared at them a little bit longer before you ultimately broke the silence. “Yeah,” you deadpanned, “I’m sure he was a real treat.” 
“Don’t forget to invest in a tag for him.” The officer called as you slid a collar and lead onto Padfoot.
“Will do, officer. I really am sorry for all of this. I swear, it will not happen again.” 
Seemingly appeased, he waived you off, and you and Padfoot exited the police station. 
You dropped the lead and let Padfoot drag it himself as you turned down the alleyway - nearly snapping your wand with the force you used to tap the enchantment that brought you back to the magical side of London - and stepped right into Diagon Alley. 
“Baby-”
“Oh don’t you baby me, Sirius.” You hissed as you turned on your heel to glower at your boyfriend; you watched his cupid’s bow flatten as he folded his lips over his teeth in an attempt to keep from laughing, though you were pleased that the furrowing of his brows and the fact that he was wringing the collar and lead between his hands let you know he was at least somewhat contrite. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?”
“Uhm, I think it was a little bit more embarrassing for me, doll. The intake form asked if I was altered or not, which ultimately saw that attendant fondling my bollocks.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you hated that.” You spat as you turned on your heel, fighting against the smile that threatened to take over your face at Sirius’ bark of laughter. 
“Baby, I’m sorry. You know you’re the only one I like fondling my bollocks.” He laughed as he jogged to catch up to you.
“Yeah well, it won’t be happening any time soon, I can tell you that much for free.” 
“Oh come now.” 
“What were you even doing!?” You asked then, stopping in the spot and nearly causing Sirius to collide with you. 
“I may have said something to James, Remus, and Pete about how stags love Padfoot, and they argued that Prongs didn’t exactly count as a stag, so I wanted to prove them wrong.”
“They dared you, didn’t they?” You surmised, hearing Sirius’ half truth for what it was.
“It wasn’t so much of a dare as it was a scientific experiment-”
“Sirius.”
“Okay! Okay, yes, they dared me. So, I figured I’d head over to Richmond Park and befriend myself a stag. I would have, too! If that fuckin’ auror hadn’t gone and foiled my plan.”
“They’re called officers, Sirius.” You corrected darkly. “You were caught by muggle officers.” 
“Why do you think you had to pick me up!?” Sirius exclaimed then. “I couldn’t very well turn back into myself and explain the situation away. And you know I’m pants at obliviation.” 
“Shame.” you huffed as you carried on towards Gringotts. “I was hoping you could obliviate this entire memory for me.”
“I would, too. Better than being stuck in the dog house.” Sirius muttered, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “Where are we going?”
“The bank.”
“Why?” 
You halted in your quest again, this time causing Sirius to trip in his attempt to avoid slamming into you. “You owe me - I had to bail you out, Sirius! They charged me fines; I have a record now.” 
“Completely fair, doll. I’ll be right back.” He agreed, pressing a kiss to your cheek that had you pretending to shove him away before he started towards the bank. 
“And take out enough to buy yourself a collar and a tag with my contact information on it!” You shouted, pausing before you added “And enough for ice cream!”
“Consider it done, babe. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” you called as you started walking towards Flourish and Blotts, “you’re getting microchipped.”
You didn’t need to turn around to know that Sirius was looking at you quizzically. “What’s a microchip?” He called as you kept walking. “Babe? Oi, babe! What’s a microchip!?”
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felassan · 2 days ago
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David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:
"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."
"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."
"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"
[source thread]
User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]
User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]
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beautifullilacsky · 9 hours ago
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"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.
Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"
"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."
"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".
And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.
It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.
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clown-bimbo · 2 days ago
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Sugar Daddy Leona
Definitely a gender neutral reader because he is rood in this and we already know Leona is canonically more respectful to women, so you are yuugender in this
You’re down on your luck and need cash. Maybe you’re even in debt to azul, who knows. But you need money.
Fortunately for you, a certain royal lion who throws money at problems he’s too lazy to deal with (which is most of them) currently has a problem that you can solve.
Leona needs a date.
Some stupid ball thing he has to attend. And for most of his life he’s been able to get away going alone, but this year his family is really pestering him to bring someone. He doesn’t think much of it, he’ll just find someone not too annoying to drag along with him. He’ll even pay them for their time. Win win. (He ends up offering you a stupid amount of money but you take the Ruggie route and just accept it from him)
And that’s how the transactional relationship between you and Leona starts. Innocent enough, right?
but then you and Leona get tipsy. Then you and Leona get handsy. And then you and Leona get in bed.
You wake up the next morning with the usual headache, but also a sleepy lion clinging onto you like a pillow.
Also you’re both naked.
And bruised.
And DAMN did you fuck up Leona’s back—
Tho it was probably deserved, especially now that you can really process how fucking sore you are down there.
Leona stirs, complaining about his headache. If he's surprised to see you in bed with him, you'll never know, because his face remains passive. He mumbles something about upping your pay, then falls back to sleep.
You don't even know where your underwear is.
You eventually do find it, you clean up and get dressed. At some point Leona finally gets up, pulling his boxers on but nothing else. His tail waves lazily behind him.
You try to bring up last night, but he starts digging through his pile of clothes and tosses a wallet at you.
"There'd be trouble if word got out, so I'm counting you to keep your mouth shut, got it, Herbivore?"
You just nod and try to leave as subtly as possible.
Below the cut is 18+ content. Tread with caution.
For my afab readers out there, the extra money is also for you to find last minute contraceptives. He wouldn't know the first thing about buying them himself, but figures you should, right? All he knows is that he came in you. A lot. And he definitely can't afford the consequences, and he doesn't want you to either.
You both expect to brush it all off, put it all behind you.
But uh
Leona finds him thinking about you more. Specifically when he's horny. And it's fucking annoying. So, once again, he decides to go about his tried and true method of throwing money at someone to deal with it.
He contacts you again and says (in the blunt Leona way) that he will pay you to keep going to events with him and also fuck him.
So now you've got the lil sugar daddy transaction going on. You join him to socials and events with his family, then he takes you to bed and fucks all his frustrations out on you.
Typically has you on all fours or bouncing on his cock. Man's has two modes: pillow princess or beast mode. Typically one followed by the other.
He'll be lounging on bed while you ride him. You'll get yourself off on his cock. And while your panting, he's shifting to grab you. He'll whisper in your ear I'm not done yet, herbivore, and suddenly he's pounding into you like a jackhammer.
Or it'll be a session of relentless pounding, but one of you wants more, so he'll lay back and have you ride him.
There are times where you'll both be exhausted (or in his case, where he doesn't want to exert as much effort) but he still insists that you keep going. Really, he just likes being inside you. Don't be surprised when you wake up sleeping on his chest, dick still inside you.
And he refuses to use condoms, he wants to cum inside you, and he fucking will. And he fucking does. A lot.
And if you're afab he absolutely makes sure you're on the best contraceptive plan possible.
He may tear any condoms he sees to pieces, but he still tries to be a safe sex king. Just don't make him wear the fucking rubber, unless you really wanna get fUCKED up that night. They make him so irrationally angry.
Or maybe there is some rationality to it. Maybe it's an instinct thing.
Over the course of the transactional relationship you really become his herbivore. He actively seeks you out for company. Like to the point Ruggie has not only noticed it, but become accustomed to it. Which also means he has teased Leona about it, though not often and a lot, because Leona seems oddly touchy about it...
Speaking of touchy, mans is so handsy with you, always has to be holding you in some way. Later on in the relationship, he started getting cheeky with it, and there have been a few times where you'd swat him and he'd just shoot you that wry smile. He will always move his hand, though, when you express discomfort or discontent. He only does it because he can tell you don't really hate it. You're mostly just embarrassed. And he likes the way you blush.
Will prob do a part 2 because I have more ideas but they're not nsfw and I want to make them available. Sooooooo... yeah.
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itachiiwrites · 1 day ago
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𐙚 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄¡!
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cw. 18+ flithy smut, Sub!Gojo, Dom!Reader, Enemies to lovers, gojo is a virgin and the word loser is used a lot.
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AcademicRival!Satoru believed he'll have a merry time getting paired with you for your upcoming assignment, afterall, you were fun to pick on and he adored the way the vein would pop on your forehead after he says something to completely throw you off the tracks. His plan was to make you do all the work while he gets on your nerves to pass his time.
Satoru prides himself in being jack of all trades, he's the captain of the collegiate basketball team, student body president, has 4.0 GPA in his astrophysics major and is on the dean's list, his stunning good looks were to kill for and to add to those never ending positive attributes he's filthy rich, if it wasn't so obvious by his sports car's raging engine whenever he drifts it around in the campus. Gojo Satoru was a star. Gojo Satoru was game.
Admirers and people lining up for him was no big of a deal, it is the routine when you're him. You're one of the many people who find him fascinating, find him attractive (which was something you would never admit to, even if a ceiling fell over you) but still, why was he shaking his legs underneath the table while he watches the furrow of your brow focused on the screen in his dorm room? He's way too distracted to read this paper about Aesthetics and Marxism—he only took up sociology because it was a humanities requirement within his course and also because he was utterly, out of his mind bored.
Feeling the burning gaze of his abnormally blue eyes, you slam your fist onto the table and anyone who was in their right mind would be able to decipher that your expression was twisted in unfiltered annoyance, the mask of a small, pleasant smile as your veins popped on your forehead was failing miserably. "We could get a lot done if you didn't think this was a staring contest"
"Wow, really? I did think it was a staring contest with how boring all this is" He mocked knowing it would only agitate you further, his eyes shamelessly trailed over the plushness of your thighs and how the skirt fabric sat on top of it, his thoughts were digressing, wondering about the colour of your pant—
"What are you looking at, pervert..?" You point it out to break the unholy chain of his thoughts immediately, his eyes widened by being caught off-guard, evading away to focus on the papers in front of him, lasering his eyes to aim at understand at whatever 'Russian constructivism' meant, his fist gripped the pencil tighter and tighter as he felt unbelievably panicked at being caught, the trance of embarrassment breaking away along with a sharp 'snap' of the pencil.
With a faltering attempt to maintain his cockiness, Satoru looked at you. "Just looking at how much of a loser you look, even broke a pencil because it's annoying how nerdy you dress" a painful roll of his eyes followed by, but his ventures to cover the way he felt were too poor and what was the parameter? The goddamned seductive smile on your pretty lips.
Gojo Satoru was game, but he was a fucking virgin.
"Lying is not going to save your ass, I can literally see the tent in your pants, what are you..a teenager..?" The mockery in your eyes and the superiority you had over him in that very moment was enough to make him let go of his guards and feel his knees buck. You were beautiful and he was so pathetically down bad for that.
"Unlike you, I have many things to excel at..who has time for something as stupid as this anyway" You had to give some kudos for the fact that his voice remained balanced despite the throbbing erection in his pants, and you made a face with slanting pursed lips that was to show him you believed him, although anyone could tell you didn't.
"what is with that face? You think you're better than me? What do you know about sex, having your cute nose burried in those stupid books all day.." And that statement makes you raise your brow, Satoru Gojo, called you cute? This was something, this was when he knew he messed up and you had all the power.
"Why don't I show it to you then? You wanna be a loser in this one area? Come on.. you're better than that, right?" Satoru gulped, the offer was beyond tempting, all those fantasies he ran his mind for while wrapping his hand around his cock in his dark dorm room, relieving himself while yearning for the warmth for your mouth and cunt—finally had the chance to be fleshed out to life. It was tempting indeed but what about his ego?
"Sure, I bet you suck at this too" He huffed a laugh with his faux confidence, only to be miserably proved wrong within a few minutes.
"Please— fuck! Your mouth feels so good.." He breathed heavily with an almost violent rise and fall of his chest, his legs sprawled wide as he was on the couch of his room and you, his beautiful arch-nemesis was skillfully using his cock like it was your personal toy. Satoru didn't feel he was being sucked off for his pleasure, he was being sucked off to be proven of the fact that you were in control here.
He reached his trembling hands to tangle within your locks as you let a thick glob of your spit fall onto his tip with a grin, tantalisingly rubbing it on your glossed lips. "Better than your stupid fist right?" And he moans at that degradation, his eyes marbeling with glassy tears, your pride swelled more than anything.
"Ever seen tits in real life? Or are you that much of a loser to have Inoue Waka as your wallpaper.." You teased further, unbuttoning your blouse and unfastening your bra from the front to spill out your breasts and Satoru's brain simply short circuits the moment the cushiness of your tits gather around his cock and he feels the tightening sting on his abdomen, dripping out loads of his cum onto your tits, painting you like the masterpiece you were with thick ribbons of his ejaculate.
You hum, licking a long strip from his base, swirling your hot tongue around his softening, sensitive frenum as he is limp by the pleasure.
"There's no way you're this good.." He spoke, almost sounding as if something unbelievable happened, almost angry.
"Such a good boy 'Toru.." You giggle in response, kissing his abdomen and he feels pathetically, helplessly in love with you.
Gojo Satoru was game, but you were a roulette.
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