#She will make mistakes and fail some things but that is about it!

[aryesdanger24]

@menofprogress id love that shit so fucking much. Give me more Milo and Clagor shenanigans, give me Vander and Benzo becoming friends, I want Powder blogging about her newest inventions, give me more Heimerdinger and his year alone in an alt universe (his music journey), I desperately need more about Zaun and what it was like with the poison gas!

Give me the aftermath with Sevika, give me post breakup with my bestie (or brother/maybe more) Silco and how he decided to build his power and how.

GIVE ME HOW VANDER AND SILCO MET!

Oh, how Ekko handled the aftermath of Vanders entire family dying and how he picked himself up.

Give me the Jinx who was still trying to get her creations right with Silco.

Give me the story of Elder Arcane God Viktor realizing in his solitude that he had made a mistake and trying to fix it actively. Give me training days Caitlyn at the Enforcer Academy!

Give me Jayce's journey from being a disgraced scientist to being fawned over (he would be so naive in the beginning and make some wrong deals)

I agree....a TV show or even a small YouTube shorts called Arcane and the Character Keys where they dive into showing an unseen part of a character...like (these are hypothetical) Ambessa having a deep and soft affection for Black cats, Viktor having a deep seething hatred for a rude Barista and their daily yelling session where they insult each other and do it again tomorrow, Mel having a weakness for goofy princess like dresses despite them not being in fashion, Vander being an absolutely bad shot at anything he throws and it's just clips of him throwing shirts or random things and failing miserably, or like Sevika having a 2nd job because Silco told her to have a break so she got a second job to stay busy except everyone bugs her 😆 🤣 😆

I get why the plot in arcane is so tightly knit and im so GLAD we got as much as we did, but can you imagine if arcane had the capacity for filler episodes?

Jayce and Viktor lab shenanigans, more of how Mel became the richest person in Piltover, little Jinx making Sevika's life hell, Ekko building his community, Vi being a pitfighter or running a prison gang, Cait solving crimes, more Ambessa backstory, as a whole more backstory and flashbacks for everyone.......

[writingredrose]

for a good cause | Rollo x reader

summary : While having fun at the festival with your friends, you're oblivious to your own guilt and grudge. Luckily, he's here to show you the truth.

warnings : reader is Yuu and she's implied to be a girl ; swearing

a / n : HAD LOTS OF FUN WITH THIS ONE Y'ALL WO!!! Yuu betraying the NRC my beloved. Also I was definitely NOT writing this AND watching the event at the same time and that's definitely NOT why is it so short haha...

A TOAST TO @pomefioredove FOR INSPIRING ME!! Hope you like it <3 🫶🏻🩷

P.S : maybe some grammatical mistakes or weird wording, sorry, English ain't my first language :')

The horrors, the stress, the neglect about every single thing involving your mentality and your body... all of these curses that came upon you when you first set foot in the halls of Night Raven Collage could never be cured, could they? That's what you thought before you met him. He said he can save you...

Can he? Please, you have to let him save you...

The beautiful scenery in the main hall of Nobel Bell Collage never failed to catch your eye. The way the light of the sun illuminated the beautiful stained windows could never not be pretty. Compared to the dark halls of NRC, this school was twice as pretty, that's what you thought since coming here, but you'd never dare tell anyone, you didn't need another reason for people to look down on you as they always do.

“Something must've caught your eye for you to stop in your tracks like that, no?” The voice coming from behind you was as calm and neutral as ever. You caught with the corner of your eye the figure stopping right next to you, looking where your eyes did just a moment ago. “Well, you're never wrong are you?” You let out a silent laugh, at which the figure moved his eyes in you. “The glass...is beautiful. It never fails to amaze me. You don't see this at Night Raven” Your eyes went up to look at the glass again, the one next to you looking in the same place you were. “Hm, your comments make me think that Night Raven Collage isn't that amazing of a school that everyone would die to go in” You snorted at his snarky remark right before covering your mouth. You'd think he hates everyone from that school, but again, maybe he is, at how is looking at them, who can say he doesn't? “Didn't take you for the humorous type, Rollo„

Ah there it is again. Ever since you came here, Rollo can't seem to get tired of the way his name rolls off your tongue. He's heard about you, the magicless prefect who's came from another world. And goodness, you're... perfect. Everything about you, is absolutely perfect. Your face, your voice, your silhouette, everything about you... and on top of all you're so... pure. So pure, he can sense it, the essence of it right in your soul, he wishes to keep it to himself forever, he'd never let anyone touch something so pure and beautiful. Stain it with their dirty magic.

He looked at you again, your form snickering oh so close to his body. “Was it really that funny? I was simply saying what is on my mind...” Your laughing came to a stop, now having your attention fully on him. “I know, it's just the way you said it is all. It was funny. And I mean, you are kind of right. Sure Night Raven is a big school, no denying that. But! I guess you could say the inside is a bit... boring” At your words Rollo let out a laugh himself. “Hmph! Boring? I've known you for a day and I'm sure you can find a better word than boring„ “Meh, I don't wanna be mean is all” Your kindness was also something Rollo adored about you. He can see who you are under all that fake kindness you put on for your little friends at NRC. Right under all of that, the essence of your soul is naked under his praying eyes. He knows you're tired, tired of that school. Maybe he can use that for himself.

The songs and happy voices of the many people surrounding you were loud but not entirely unwelcome. After each group that was made earlier today finished their stroll through the busy streets, it was now time for everyone to gather in one place for the big show. You were currently sitting next to Rollo, watching from far away the boys who were having fun creating fireworks for the townfolk.

You couldn't help but scowl at the sight. It was so irritating, but why exactly...? “Are you alright?” Rollo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Judging by that scowl on your face, I'd say you're ready to rip everyone's heads off” You looked at him, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye, and just for a second, you caught a glint of amusement in them. He was joking. How is it that he only does it when he's with you? You've been observing his actions ever since you came here and he seems to be a totally different person when he's with you. The handkerchief that always seems to be present when he speaks with other people, he never has it when he's with you.

Isn't it weird?

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'm ok. I just...well...” The silver haired boy turns his head to fully look at you, waiting for an answer “I just... don't like the loud music, at all. It always gives me the biggest headache” Rollo let out an almost silent hm, and looked in front of him again. A minute passed before he spoke again.

“Who are you trying to lie to? Me or yourself?”

...what?

The weight of his glace almost crushes you. You could feel his sharp emerald eyes looking at you, no... looking through you, you knew damn well that right now the one called Rollo Flamme was looking straight into your soul, ready to burn it to ashes at any moment.

You turned your head away from him, unable to return the gaze. “I... don't know what you're talking about, Rollo. I'm not lying to myself at all. I told you the truth” He didn't stop looking through you. “Is that so? Because when your eyes are directed exactly to your little friends over there, it's hard to think that it's just the music that's bothering you” You were at a loss of words.

He was right wasn't he?

He knew

Of course he did

After all why bother hide it anymore?

You hated their guts...

You HATED that school

You hate THEM

YOU HATE IT

YOU HATE THIS DAMNED WORLD.

This time, you looked him straight in the eyes. And he knew, Rollo finally realized he got it. He was almost shocked at how easy it was to crack your fake facade. You were like him weren't you? You hated magic just like he hated it. You loathed the evil-doers of this world, the magic users. He knew he was right, he knew he was right to fall in love with you.

He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your eyes. So much hatred. My, how he loved that look of yours. “And what do you plan on doing now?” Your voice took a much more serious tone than earlier. He simply let out a laugh. “Me? Why nothing at all. All I need you to do — Rollo fully turned his body to you, slowly leaning to look into your eyes — is to listen to what I have to say”

The music of the festival could be heard even from the depths of the wall of the waterway tunnels. Rollo was guiding you, with a lantern in his hand, through what seemed like an endless darkness. And after what seemed like an eternity, you were the first one who spoke. “So what exactly do you plan on doing? You haven't explained anything to me at all Rollo” He kept walking, not saying a word. More minutes passed and you were getting more and more annoyed, when was he going to- “Why is it that you hate your friends so much? When I first saw you I could hardly tell you hated their guts” You fell silent at his question, why is it that you hate them? After all ever since you came here- ...oh, that's right. You know don't you? “You want the truth? I'll tell you. I simply hate their guts. Ever since I came here I have been nothing but an obedient little dog to them. Cleaning all the mess they did after every overblot I was the one to clean the mess. Trouble? That idiot Crowley has me going to solve it. Students fighting? Of course, I'm the one to blame. I'm fucking tired, I'm so damn tired of all of them. No one, not a single one at that school has ever cared to check on me, because who cares?!? I'm a magicless student aren't I? I don't have feelings or anything right? I'm just a damn MAGICLESS HUMAN WHO LISTEN LIKE A FUCKING DOG!”

Rollo didn't flinch at the sudden punch you landed on the wall next to you. You stopped walking a while ago, fully turned to you, Rollo watched your actions carefully, seeming to enjoy how you slowly became a victim to your own hatred, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark hole you made for yourself ever since stepping into this world. Stepping closer to you, Rollo raised your chin to look him in the eyes, the light of the lamp allowing you to see his beautiful yet empty emerald eyes. “See now? That's exactly why I guided you here. Your hatred for them is exactly what I need. So beautiful and so dangerous it is” Moving closer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair. “What are you?-„ “So pure and so beautiful you are” You widened your eyes, your face growing warmer at his somewhat bold statement. He let go of you, grabbing your face once again, this time his being closer than it was before, the lamp illuminating half of his face as you saw the look in his eyes.

Predatory admiration. You could see it in the way he looked at you. Eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Raw hunger that felt almost otherworldly.

“Tell me now, Y/N. I can save you, get rid of all those dark thoughts from your head, give you a better life. I can protect you. All you need to do, is give me your word. Let me be your sanctuary” Your breathing became heavy...can he? Can he truly save you? You'd wished to escape this for so long, you're so tired. You'd let him-

“Please, Rollo... — you grabbed onto his clothes, afraid that if you'd let go he'd abandon you just like the others — I'll- I'll let you. Please, be my sanctuary” Rollo's eyes flickered with raw desire. “Very well then”

The lamp in Rollo's hands dropped on the floor as his hand held your chin so you could look in his eyes. His other hand entangled into your hair, finally pulling you for a long awaited kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, every ounce of self control disappeared. He'd been waiting for this longer than he dared to admit. If only you knew what you were doing to him. You eagerly returned the kiss, your hands diving into his hair, careful to not let his hat slip off his head, lips moving in perfect harmony as you've done this hundreds of times before. And when you parted for the first time, your panting echoed through the dark halls.

You looked at him with red cheeks, and before you could stop it you let the words “I love you„ spill from your mouth. You knew your confession came out in a trembling voice, even if you didn't know why. Rollo looked at you and once again he kissed you, this time harder and urgent. He knew you knew he was telling you the same, that what he can't put into words he'll put into this kiss.

A long while passed until you two parted. Damned oxigen, you thought. The silver haired in front of you brought you closer to his face so that your foreheads touched. “How can you be magicless when I can swear that you bewitched me somehow. I'm not myself when I'm with you, did you know that? The things you do to me...” You giggled at his remark, kissing him once more which he happily returned. “Yeah? Well, I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you chose me Rollo” He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Picking up the lamp from the floor, he took your hand and guided you now towards the light that shot up at the end of the tunnel. “Come now my dear, I'm sure you'll like what you're going to see”

The many candles in the Nobel Bell Collage hall illuminated brightly. The students who came for the symposium were all gathered in the hall, waiting for whatever was to come. Suddenly, the loud sound of the bell echoed through the whole school. “The Bell of Salvation? At this time of the night?” Silver looked around him surprised by the tolls of the bell. “If I recall, we were told that the bell tolled there times a day no? Once in the morning, then evening and night. And I'm pretty sure we heard the toll for the night some hours ago. So what could the reason for this one be? Riddle's face twisted in confusion, his brows furrowing trying to figure out what's going on. “U-uhm, am I the only one who's seeing t-that?” Upon hearing Idia's voice, everyone looked in his direction.“What's that? A flower??” In front of them, growing from the ground, there was a beautiful crimson flower, one that had its petals beautifully colored just like wild flames. “What's a flower doing in the middle of the-” *crack* Another one made its way through the floor, cracking the tiles in the process. And then another, followed by thousands slowly covering the whole hall. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Sebek's voice echoed through the hall now full of crimson flowers. “Evreyone! They-they passed out!” In the blink of an eye, every single student who got close to the flowers had passed out cold and they couldn't be woken up.

Fire Lotuses. Dangerous yet beautiful flowers that supposedly went extinct centuries ago. These flowers grew by feeding themselves with magic, sucking it out of people leaving them with no ounce of magic to live with. The methods of extinction were not revealed, therefore there was no way to stop them.

“Standing in this hall while everyone else is passed at your feet is quite pitiful. Don't you think?”

Fighting and fighting, the students tried but there was no end to those flowers, if they can't use magic then they can't do anything. “Y/N! Make sure you stay beh-...what?” Deuce had called for you, but he now realized...you were nowhere to be found. “Y/N?!? NO! SHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hearing his calls, the others looked around them, you were nowhere in sight. “GRIM! Did you not see where she went?!?” Sebek picked up the panicked cat, who had thought you came back with him, your quietness being a normal thing at school so he didn't bother checking if you were truly there, blaming himself for your disappearance. “I-I don't know! I thought she was behind me I swear!” On the verge of crying he started shaking in Sebek's arms, the boy putting him down taking pity on him. “WE NEED TO FIND THE PREFECT NOW! AND SEE TO WHAT CAUSED THESE FLOWERS TO APPEAR!” Next to the loud green haired boy, Malleus was looking up the stairs in the hall. “Hm, perhaps, we should ask him” Sniffling, Grim looked in the direction of Malleus' eyes. “Him? Him who?” And just after, steps could be heard on top of the stairs, indicating who was watching from afar.

And there he was. The students looked at the stop for the stairs that now revealed Rollo's steady figure stepping out of the shadows. “YOU HUMAN! DID YOU DO THIS?” Sebek's voice boomed once again in the halls, at which Rollo merely laughed. “Why? Well it's quite simple. I did so I can rid this world from this magic of course” “Riding the world of magic? THAT'S ABSURD!! You damn wicked villain!” “SHUT IT! — the first time Rollo's voice was raised, the halls trembled at the sound — ME?! I'M THE WICKED VILLAIN?? What about you? You mages tricking the world with your stupid little magic tricks?! You mean nothing but trouble! But I!- I will rid this world of your kind, making it a better place!” He laughed as he talked, the looks of the ones amongst the flowers now flaming with anger. “You're a coward! Come the fuck down and face us if you're so determined of getting rid of us!” “No time for that Deuce! — Riddle grabbed the first year's shoulder — we need to find a way to get rid of these flowers before their thorns find a way into the soil” Another laugh from Rollo could be heard. “Too late for that! Just as we're speaking, the whole city is getting covered in flowers, and soon enough the whole island! You've got nothing left to do!” The flowers slowly started getting closer to them, leaving them helpless, just then, Deuce had realized what was missing from Rollo's speech. “You- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO Y/N?!” Rollo's calm and collected eyes met Deuce's angry ones, smiling at his expression he let out a silent laugh. “Hah! Ask her that yourself won't you?”

Step step step

One by one, the expression of the students went from anger to shock. You. It was you who was now next to Rollo standing straight and looking down on them from the stairs, the same flowers that were now surrounding them, was present in your hair. “Y-... Prefect...?” Deuce couldn't believe it, what were you doing, what-what are you doing with him? “Prefect?! What do you think you're doing?!” Sebek's voice boomed once again. “You're with the enemy you filthy traitor?!” Looking right back into Deuce's eyes seeing his despair, that didn't sit right with you, Deuce has never done anything wrong, but again, did he really care...?

“I truly am so sorry Deuce. You did nothing wrong, really. But I'm so tired you know?” “W-what is that even supposed to mean Y/N? Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did I'm sorry! But why would you do such a thing?” “Because I can't take it anymore. I'm done, Deuce. I've been treated like a damn dog every second I stayed at that school. No one, not a single person has ever thought of checking up on me, seeing if I'm ok, not even you did. I needed to be saved, Deuce, and Rollo, Rollo told me he'd save me. And he did! I feel so much better now that he did” Empty eyes were staring into scared blue ones. Deuce understood, in a way. And the fact that he hadn't even thought about checking on you earlier... maybe if he did none of this would've happened. “Grim. I really am sorry. This time I can't accompany you anymore. Seems like you'll have to become a great mage without me” Shaking next to Deuce's legs, was a crying Grim. “Hench-human...”

This time, the looks you gave to the ones left was boiling through them. “You all deserve this. You all are some egoistic monsters you know that?” Malleus' steeped forward trying to reason. “Child of man this is not the-” “QUIET! You don't get to talk Malleus. You're just like them after all, you've always been haven't you?” Rollo was enjoying this too much. The expressions those idiots Night Raven Collage students had on their faces was priceless. But as much as he'd love to stay more, you both had work to do. “Now now Y/N. I'm afraid we have to go. We have work to do, remember” He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you responded by putting one of yours in his. “Enjoy your last moments”

And with that, the floor around them was gone, leaving them to fall in complete darkness.

[geonwooz]

♡ START OVER AGAIN — HAE-JO / CHAE SEUNGHYEOK

hae-jo x fem!reader | wc : 0.8k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, exes to lovers, swearing, hurt/comfort, mild angst | request : heyy!! i wanted to ask you, have you watched mr. plankton? and if so, can you write something on woo do hwan in it? i don’t mind if its angst or sad or anything!!

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

you cursed lowly, breath hitching in your chest as your gaze met the pretty brown eyes of the man who dumped you after almost five years of dating.

hae-jo’s eyes widened as they fell on you, not having expected in a million years that you were the bride he was commissioned to kidnap from your own wedding.

you cursed your sister in your head, knowing she was the one who insisted on handling everything, assuring you she’d get you out of marrying a guy your father had chosen for you.

“are you just gonna stand there?” hae-jo tried to remain nonchalant, not wanting to show that the sight of you in a beautiful wedding dress was doing things to his heart, even though it had been three years since you guys broke up. “or are you going to get inside the car?”

i’ll just get in the car and get away from the wedding. you told yourself, trying not to focus on the fact that your ex-boyfriend was the one assisting you in running away from your own wedding. i’ll figure the rest out later.

you got into his car, the blue jeep you were overly familiar with, without another word, clicking the seatbelt into place as you closed your eyes momentarily.

hae-jo kept glancing at you as he drove away from the wedding venue, unable to tear his gaze away. how was it that you still looked so beautiful even after three years? the drive was a long one, and he wondered if he should make conversation.

“you look beautiful, y/n.” he confessed softly, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “it’s a shame you won’t get married in that dress.”

you sighed quietly, your mind whirling with various thoughts. one moment he was nonchalant, and the next moment he was soft — it never failed to give you whiplash.

hae-jo knew why you were quiet, yet he still couldn’t stop himself from asking the questions that entered his mind. “why are you running away from your own wedding? i heard the guy’s rich. is he not your type?” he blabbered, his gaze shifting between you and the road.

“i’m not gonna marry some guy just because he’s rich, hae-jo.” the way you said his name was enough of an indication that he messed up. “i’m not some gold digger.”

“no, no. i didn’t mean it like that.” hae-jo intervened quickly, wincing as he realized you misunderstood him. “you know i didn’t, y/n. i know you aren’t like that. i just … i don’t know. i thought you’d have settled down by now. that’s all.”

you sighed softly, looking out of the window. “the guy i wanted to settle down with dumped me. what was i supposed to do then?” you blurted, never the one to keep your thoughts to yourself.

it was one of hae-jo's favorite traits about you; your honest bluntness.

“seriously? you never moved on? is that what you are saying?” hae-jo found himself stopping the car on the side of the road once they were far enough, turning to look at you. “you deserved better, y/n. you deserved better than me.”

 “i didn’t want better, hae-jo.” you met his gaze hesitantly, your heart beating faster when you looked into his eyes. “i wanted you.”

hae-jo felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs at your blunt confession. he couldn’t help but resonate with your words, feeling the same. he hadn’t moved on either, stuck on you even if it had been years since you two had broken up.

“do you, uh…” hae-jo spoke up quietly, averting his gaze from her nervously. “do you still, maybe perhaps, want me?”

you froze, blinking. you hadn’t heard him properly, right? there was no way that he was going to ask you to get back with him, right? you couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited, although you also felt a bit frustrated — after all, he was the one who left first.

you stared at him for a few moments. “do you really mean that?” you responded, your voice wavering slightly.

hae-jo contemplated his words before he nodded. it was a lot to think about, but as he saw you, no problem seemed too big to overcome. he knew he could get through anything if he had you by his side.

“yeah, i do. i want to start over again. with you.” he uttered with a soft yet confident smile. “what say, shall we start over again, y/n?”

you met his gaze, smiling as you listened to his words. starting over again. that sounded nice. as messy as it was, you figured that running away from your wedding day just to get back together with your ex-boyfriend might just be the change you needed in your life.

“i’d like that very much, hae-jo. i’d like to start over again too. with you.”

[gwen-pierce]

“That’s it for today, everyone! Thanks so much for coming, we’ll see ya next time!” Ruth called from her large desk at the front of the room, emphasizing her dismissal with a happy clap. Gwen began to gather her things from the table, the woman who shared the large slab of wood with waved a quick goodbye before taking off. She was going to pick up her kids from daycare, something Gwen had learned in their few conversations over the last couple of weeks since she joined Ruth’s class.

It had all started when she began therapy. Gwen knew she had dependency issues, self-esteem issues, and even some anger issues to work through. She had thought therapy was just talking about your feelings and suddenly you didn’t feel so bad anymore. It was so much more than that. It was work. It was hard and oftentimes it hurt. At first, she didn’t think it was helping but the more effort she put in the more she started to get out of it. When her therapist suggested she take some classes in the area, Gwen dove right in. She tried cooking and it turns out guidance wasn’t what she was missing in that field, she was downright terrible at it but the class was still fun. She found herself able to laugh at her mistakes instead of feeling stupid and unworthy. She tried other things. Failed at some, excelled in others. Ceramics wasn’t her calling but she did make friends in that class that brought her to some paint and fire events which she was actually good at and enjoyed. Aerial silks left her covered in bruises and so did pole dancing, but the later class made her feel empowered. Sexy, even.

Floral arranging quickly became her favorite weekly event. Not only did she easily get lost in creating bouquets she found the instructor, Ruth’s, voice soothing. Her presence calming. The classroom was warm and inviting and the flowers centered Gwen in a way she hadn’t ever been before. Like they understood her. Beautiful and delicate but maybe, just maybe, stronger than they looked.

“Gwen, dear, do you have a moment?” Ruth had asked as the young blonde passed by the front desk on her way to the door. Smiling warmly, she nodded, pausing opposite the instructor. “Of course, is everything okay? I know I sort of went outside the lines of the brief today and that the arrangement leaned a little more winter than autumnal…” Her voice trailed off as Ruth waved her hand with a soft laugh. “There are no rules in flowers, dear. Your arrangement was beautiful any time of year.” She said, smiling warmly and reaching out her hand to take Gwen’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That’s why I wanted to chat with you. I know it’s only been a couple weeks but I think you’re really gifted, Gwen. The flowers, they speak to you. I think you’re ready for my intermediate class. What do you think?” “Really?” Gwen blanched, color rising to her cheeks. Her gut instinct was to reject the offer and put herself down but she swallowed that urge. That learned behavior that told her she wasn’t good enough. Instead, she mustered up a proud smile and returned Ruth’s hand squeeze with one of her own. “Actually, yeah. The flowers do speak to me and they’re telling me I should.” 

[ylangelegy]

no spoiler review!

to err is human. relationships are messy because people are messy. we make mistakes that are unforgivable. we make choices that are questionable. it's a different kind of cruelty, the fact that we tend to hurt those we care about the most.

in front of me features some of the most human characters you will read. in part one, anna warns 'you're not meant to like these characters', and it's so true. wonwoo and y/n will have you frustrated, screaming/squealing, etc. all that is borne out of the fact that they are painfully authentic. maybe you're reading the story like a well-meaning friend who's watching their friend do something stupid. or maybe you're wonwoo or y/n, doing things that may be part of a larger narrative someday.

either way, it takes skill to write characters who are raw and real. it takes even more skill to let them fail and then to redeem them in a manner that doesn't feel forced or rushed. anna does that and so much more.

to err is human— but to love is human, too. @wonustars knows that best, and it shows in all 40k words of in front of me.

spoilers/annotations! ´◡`

^ quick text formatting of some of the notable texts from part two! ´･ᴗ･` unfortunately, i passed out at the ending (!) being wonwoo changing the contact name on his end to 'darling <3',, i have not recovered.

these parallels??? i've already told anna before that 'rejection is foreign to wonwoo' had me LOCKED TF in when it came to the teaser. but having this play out drove me mildly insane

seemingly innocuous but goes to show how a little formatting can really drive u insane!!! the strikethrough at 'best friend' driving home the conflict in wonwoo's emotions!!! i'm going to throw up

[SHAKES WONWOO BY THE SHOULDERS] PLEASEEEEEE!!!!!!!! more /srs though: this is where i truly felt like i was witnessing something absolutely real happening. how often do we neglect to see what is right in front of us (title mention *leonardo di caprio meme*),, how many 'answers' have we missed despite our sincere pursuit of them,, genius

as mistaken as the seokmin sentiment was (again!!! great great great study of hidden intentions + the human tendencies to sometimes be toxic, no matter how well-intending), there's just something achingly real about knowing there is a 'safe' choice... and still wanting something else, something more. bullet to the chest, but i feel like it's also interesting that it doesn't call seokmin the 'right' choice (because he was NAWTTTT.... GET OUT OF HERE SEOKMIN....)

sorry . just thought of wonwoo smiling bright and wide and my head blanked

reader's definition of love for wonwoo being something akin to a car crash because of how chaotic it all initially is + wonwoo's being the certainty of the sea, but both referencing the weather (snowstorms and autumn) ? SHE FELL FIRST, HE FELL HARDER ? my god. i will never recover from this

this + "my wonwoo"...................................................................................

there's a filipino word that, while there is sort of an english translation, it doesn't quite encapsulate it. the term 'rupok' is, in lightest terms, something that can be likened to soft spot. marupok ako para sa kanya i.e. 'i have a soft spot for him', or 'i'm weak to/for him'. and this is exactly, exactly it. also idk how i survived reading this passage

SORR YSOR Y SORY THIS IS MY FAVORITE PROMPT/KINK (??)/TROPE (????) OF ALL TIME . SO LIKE. I WOULD READ A THOUSAND EXTRA WORDS OF SOMETHING LIKE THIS PLAYING OUT I FEAR

here lies user xinganhao. 2024

In Front of Me (2)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ 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.

⊹ 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

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. 

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.  

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. 

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. 

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.

⊹ 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 ♡

[nymphrasis]

Not gonna lie, I really love how the Kuruna lemon animation / gif turned out xd. I am not someone who genuinely animate much qwq. So doing this, esp just being for fun and being all wacky about it, really makes me happy and giggle about it >w<

I still laugh at the stupid faces tbh xd. I think that, because I made a silly little gremlin, that I've allowed myself to actually make this craziness and wild expressions be in character >w<. Just feels fitting and I am blasting all for it!

[storywestistrash]

watched mouthwashing finally. the fact that i saw people be more aggressive towards curly than jimmy is kinda strange. kinda real weird

[the-labyrinth-of-me]

Wait did both Alice and Zane record Alan when he was at his lowest point? Didn't Alice make her exhibition to show the world what she sees? To show Alan the truth about himself? That it never was Scratch visiting and terrorizing her, but Alan himself? Did she depict his "self" and Zane depicted his "persona"? The two sides of him that he wishes he can eliminate bc they brought him into trouble (Scratch representing anger and the fallouts with paparazzi and stuff, Zane representing his self-destructive behavior with alcohol and drugs and the party nights)? The both sides that caused his marriage to start falling apart? Was that the reason Zane made that video of Alan when they were on that booze and drug-fueled bender while working on the Return manuscript? Is this party video the companion piece?? Alan's downward spiral, same as Alice's photos? Do they fucking work together aasdffjfjfkfk

[bitchthefuck1]

you know what, I actually will talk about this because it's bothering me. The issue with focussing so heavily on syd and carmy's potential for a romantic relationship isn't that there's something inherently unintellectual about romance or whatever, it's that a lot of people seem incapable of doing that without immediately flattening the story and ignoring or intentionally misreading any and all nuance for the sake of that romance. Every scene suddenly becomes about how it impacts their relationship, every analysis is done through a romantic lens, every frame or line of dialogue becomes about finding some easter egg or hint that "proves" these people should start dating. Their dynamic is absolutely a fundamental part of this show, but if you can only see it as a will-they-won't-they, you miss so much of what the story is actually trying to say with these two.

There are good versions of this story where their relationship is romantic and there are good versions of this story where it isn't, but as soon as you decide them being together is "the point," you lose the ability to actually judge the story for what it is, not what you want it to be.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Imagine doing so much hard work and persevering through law school to have your failed tests advertised on the internet news. The bar is really hard; he’s not “cringe fail.” I am jealous of his ability to even attend college without committing suicide. He did a good job. Leave my dude the fuck alone.

I don’t care if they’re elites. If they’re elites; then make fun of them solely for being rich nepotism babies. There are non-elites who have failed the bar (or any important test) once or twice as well who will see this and feel bad about themselves.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[chelseeebe]

bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

-

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

[bucks-babe]

Change My Ways For You

Pairing: College!Fuckboy!Bucky x college!fem!reader

Summary: One of the only girls in school that didn’t want Bucky Barnes was somehow the one he fell in love with

Warnings: Smut, fluff, reader doesn’t take any of Bucky’s shit, himbo!Bucky, Bucky being a fuckboy,a bit of forced proximity, small part where Bucky is fucking someone else (ew), pinning, Bucky proving himself to be a sweet boy, non consentual kissing, Bucky being tooth rottingly sweet, Bucky calling reader sweets sweetheart and sweetcheeks, Steve is a dick (sorry not sorry), PROTECTED p in v (they are responsible in this one), fingering, fluffy smut, dirty talk, cockwarming?, so much praise, talk about STDs, delayed aftercare, talk about no aftercare, Bucky learns about aftercare so all is good

Word Count: 14.6k This is a long one

A/N: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading and helping with the direction; however, any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone. This fic is the most adorable and full of emotions. The angst, the fluff, the feelings and especially Bucky. The way they act around one another — it’s absolutely great and definitely a read worth it!

“I have to admit, some of your grades in this class are less than I expected. Some of you have excelled in my class, but there are quite a few students to which their performance, to put it nicely, has been subpar.” A few students in the room look around, trying to see who looks guilty of having shit grades. You couldn’t care less; you know your grades are great so it’s not your problem if someone else is failing. 

All you want to do is get out of class and go back to your dorm to sleep, having stayed up way too late to finish a research paper for a different class. Your professor walks back over to his desk and leans back on it, sighing and taking off his glasses to wipe them on his sweater. 

“Now, while I understand that this course is not for the faint of heart, I still expect all of you to put in effort, and based on these,” he holds up the essays that were due last week, “I can tell that some of you just don’t care. Not even mentioning those of you who didn’t turn in your paper.”

You hear a scoff a few rows behind you and you know it’s Bucky Barnes without having to turn your head. He is the resident fuckboy, not caring about school or his education, just going to parties and fucking every living thing in sight. Sometimes you think that the only reason he is even in college is to have the “college experience” of “being free and having a bit of fun.” 

He’s never turned your head, rather just been a thorn in your side three times a week when you go to class, always joking with his friends next to him or talking about his latest trist. You don’t want to hear about how loud a random girl screamed when she came on his cock. You were here to get your degree and finally move out of this shitty town you were stuck in.

Honestly, you doubt that Bucky was even giving anyone orgasms. In your experience, men who brag about how good they were in bed were nothing but a disappointment, giving you about 30 seconds of mediocre sex until they came inside a condom and rolled over only to ask you, “did you cum?” The answer was always no. You didn’t have the patience to stroke any man’s ego when they couldn’t even make you wet. 

Bucky did nothing but make you roll your eyes, annoyed by the absolute gall of himself. “Now, because I don’t want my class average to go down because of a few dumbasses, I have sent some of you an email to meet me in my office after hours in which I will pair you up with another student in hopes that it will give you a kick in the ass since I cannot be bothered to spend more time teaching you.” You like your professor, you really do. He was one of the chillest professors you’ve had, but a twinge of fear goes through you. You fucking hope that he doesn’t pick you to help another student, especially Bucky.

You hang on to the sliver of hope that he won’t pick you. He knows that you’re busy, right? Between work and school you don’t have any time to tutor anyone. The topic stays on your mind long after you leave class, delaying looking at your email just in case he picked you to help another student. 

As the hours went by, however, you knew that you had to check it. You cursed when your laptop had battery; if it didn’t, it would have given you an excuse to not show up if you were picked. Nonetheless, you opened your school email, only to find out that you had been picked and you needed to go down to your professors office in a half hour.

Getting dressed, you had the most intense scowl on your face. This was the last thing you needed added onto your plate. You only hoped that he would pair you up with someone who didn’t need that much help, but you were proven wrong when you walked in only to find Bucky sitting down looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Take a seat, please.” You huff and sit down, moving your body away from Bucky as much as you could. You didn’t really feel comfortable around him. He’s never done anything to you per say, but you’ve seen his shameless flirting and it makes you uneasy and never want to be on the receiving end of it.

You don’t pay attention to anything your professor says, something about helping Bucky over the next few months until he’s passing or fails out of the course. You’re too lost in thought to care. On top of everything you have going on, now you have to help the one person you can’t stand.

Your professor dismisses the both of you with instructions to meet at least twice a week to study together. Bucky walks out before you and you assume that he has sprinted away to go to another party given that it was late afternoon, but you find him right outside the door. 

“So, sweetcheeks, I guess you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me now.” His eyes run up and down your body, like this was the first time he’s seen you. It makes you shift and wrap your arms around your middle, trying to soothe yourself. Bucky clearly takes this the wrong way and thinks that you like his hungry eyes and steps closer to you. “How about I give you my number and we can meet up, ya know, to study? Or if you ever need something, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

You don’t want to give him your phone, thinking about where his hands have been. Ever since his step closer to you, you can smell the scent of sex on him. If you look closer at his beard you can see the glisten on it, most likely from some girl he ate out right before he came to the meeting. 

“Just tell me your number, James so we can get this over with. I don’t want to help you and you don’t want my help. Clearly you don’t give a shit about this class and you only want to get in my pants.” He raises his eyebrows at your tone, a little shocked that you spoke to him like that. Before he opens his mouth you continue, “I mean, look at you. You’re flirting with me when I can fucking see that someone’s pussy was on your face, and that makes you think that I want to have sex with you?”

He opens his mouth one more time but you aren’t finished, finally able to snap at him for all the times he’s pissed you off. “I’m not going to be one of the girls you add to your roster so you can get that idea out of your head right now. The only time I am going to interact with you is when I have to, okay? Now give me your number so I can go back to my dorm and fucking sleep.”

Bucky is shocked, not having anyone talk to him like that. It pisses him off that you rejected him. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he has time to change your mind. He can’t lie, your sass was making his pants tighter, but he relents and gives you his number before you walk away while he watches your ass, palming his dick through his pants. 

He needs to relieve the pressure in his groin and he’s sure as hell you’re not going to help him and his hand is nowhere near good as a pussy, so he goes out to Steve’s party, knowing that he can get a girl in minutes.

“Fuck, yeah baby, that pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Shit, love that ass too, you gonna let me fuck it? Yeah, I bet you fucking would too.” Bucky doesn’t know how the two of them ended up in the bathroom, fucking each other’s brains out, but he’s not complaining. When she offered to get on her knees and suck his cock he pulled her into the nearest room, cumming on her face before pushing her into the mirror, smearing her makeup and his cum all over the mirror.

The slam of his hips was brutal, surely going to leave bruises on her hips but he didn’t care, as long as she wasn’t complaining, he would do whatever he wanted with her, fucking her like she was a slut. “Fuck, baby, gonna make me fucking cum. Pussy is so fucking tight.” He lets a groan out, close to cumming. 

 Usually he didn’t make much noise during sex other than dirty talk, only breathing heavily and groaning when he was about to cum, but he was always composed. Sex felt great, but he never felt the need to moan. He never understood why men would moan like a slut just over some pussy, and he doubted that he would ever embarrass himself like that during sex.

“Love the way that ass bounces, so fucking hot.” This was the way Bucky fucked - from behind watching the girl’s ass jiggle. He wasn’t one to fuck any other way. Bucky didn’t give a shit to watch her face or look into her eyes, he just wanted to cum as fast as possible so he could move on with the rest of his day. He thought missionary was quite possibly the most boring position ever created, not like he ever made it to a bed anyway.

“Shit, gonna take my cum, bitch? Yeah, you fucking are, just a little fucking cumdump for me, letting me fuck you in a dirty bathroom, too horny for my fat cock.” He was babbling, just wanting to cum so he could go back out to the party and have another drink, maybe even pick another girl up for later.

Bucky lets out a low groan, filling up the condom with his cum. Once his orgasm is finished, he pulls out, taking the rubber off and throwing it away. Pulling his pants back up, the girl turns around, clearly affronted. “I didn’t even cum, baby.” Her voice was high and annoying, making Bucky roll his eyes. 

“Sorry, but your pussy made me bust early.” He chuckles knowing damn well that it was a lie. He just couldn’t be bothered to make her cum. Why would he put in the extra work to make her cum when he was just having fun? If she wanted to cum so bad she could have handled it herself. He wasn’t stopping her from using her own hands. Bucky either ate a girl out until she came to get her nice and wet if he was feeling generous that day or left her to her own devices while he took his own pleasure from her body.

She blushes, “oh, thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Bucky just wants to get the fuck back to the party and she’s talking too fucking much. “Maybe we can do this again.”

He can hear how hopeful she is and he felt just a little bit bad so he decided to humor her. “Sure, Sherry, whenever I’m free. You know college life and all, working hard in classes every day. Gotta keep up that 4.0 GPA.” As he heads for the door, he hears her squeak out, It’s Sally!

The next day is when you’re supposed to meet Bucky in the library to study, but it’s been a half hour and he still hasn’t shown. You decide to study what you need to. If Bucky wanted to fail you weren’t going to go out of your way to help him. You weren’t his mother; he was a grown man and he was responsible for himself. 

Nearly an hour later, Bucky stumbles in, clearly reaping the effects of the alcohol binge he must have been on the night before. It was no wonder  why he was failing his classes. When he sees you, a smile graces his lips, trying to make you forget that he was more than fashionably late. “Heeyyyy, sweetcheeks. You been waitin’ on me long?” The closer he gets the more you can smell the musk of sex and alcohol.

“James, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” You know he is and you fight the urge to turn your nose up at the offensive smell coming off him.

“Huh? Oh, shit, I am. Well would ya’ look at that?” He laughs before plopping down in the seat next to you, his smell even worse than before. He tries to give you what you assume is a sexy look, but he just looks like he just awoke out of a coma. “How about you help me change them then, sweetcheeks? Maybe even give me a good scrub, make sure I’m real clean? Oh, and sweets, call me Bucky since we’re gonna get real close.”

There is no way that he is trying to have sex with you when his stink is filling up the entire section of the library. Anger bubbles up in your chest. You were here to help him and he is taking this whole thing like a joke. “I don’t have time for this, James. Unlike you, I actually care about my grades and don’t think with what’s in my pants.”

As you go to walk away, Bucky tries to grab your wrist, wanting to mess with you some more, but his motor skills haven’t come back yet and he was too slow. “C’mon, sweetheart, I was just messin’ with ya’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bucky holds his tongue about wanting to sniff your panties, not wanting to antagonize you further, but you just keep storming away and soon enough you’re out of Bucky’s sight.

Bucky huffs, annoyed that you walked away from him. Not because he actually wanted to talk to you, no of course not, it’s because no one has ever walked away from him. He walks away from girls after he fucked them, not the other way around. Grabbing his shirt, he lifts it up to smell it, turning his head away when the stench hits him. “Damn, no wonder she fucking sprinted away from you, Barnes.” Bucky stands up, almost falling over when gets lightheaded, the effect of drinking all night with no food catching up to him.

He slowly makes his way back to his dorm to shower and get out of his grimy clothes, feeling it stick to his skin in the worst way possible. He realizes that he only gave you his number and you didn’t give him yours so he has no way of texting you to see when your next session is. Maybe he would have made it on time if you texted him. It wasn’t his fault he was late. Honestly, you should have reminded him since you are supposed to be helping him.

The next day Bucky sees you in class and luckily he doesn’t reek this time. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, he goes down a few rows and plops down next to you. “So, sweetheart, I don’t mean to question your teaching methods, but seems to me like you’re a pretty lackluster teacher, runnin’ out on me like that.” You slowly turn your head, completely shocked at the sheer audacity of this man. How dare he say anything about you when he showed an hour  late and proceeded to ogle you like a piece of meat?

“Excuse me? You wanna say that again, James? Because I don’t think I heard you right, because you better not have just said that I’m the problem.”

“I was just teasin’ ya, sweets. But if this is gonna work ya gotta help me a little bit. I mean, you’re the teacher and all.” You wanted to slap that smug smirk right off of his face.

“If this is going to work, James, then you need to try. I’m not going to pull my weight and yours so get that idea out of your head right now. I’ll be in the library at 4:30. If you’re so much as a minute late, I’ll tell the professor to get someone else to deal with you.” With that you got up and changed your seat, not wanting to be around him for another second. 

Bucky felt his pants tighten again. He really needs to do something about your attitude, like fuck it out of you. It wasn’t a lie that he found you attractive and the thought of bending you over your desk and watching your ass bounce made his cock even harder. Bucky was contemplating asking the girl next to him for a handjob but the thought of her hands around his cock didn’t seem as good as what he thought your hands would feel like.

So instead of that, Bucky moved his seat to the back of the room so he could jerk off. A man has needs after all and Bucky has never had to worry about someone taking care of his boners until now.

Bucky decides not to push his luck and he actually shows up to the library on time, sans all of his books, but at least he’s there. He sees you in the corner, hunched over your laptop, typing away. You look cute too, with your tongue slightly passed your lips in concentration and eyebrows pulled together. Reading glasses perched on your nose. His sweetheart was working hard. What the fuck, Barnes? Bucky is taken aback by his own thoughts. He has never looked at a girl like that, when none of his thoughts are about how many different ways he could fuck them.

You roll your eyes when you see that Bucky didn’t bring anything with him, just the air of arrogance that seems to follow him wherever he goes. “Would ya’ look at the time, sweets? I’m early. See I happen to take my education very seriously.” You swear, if you roll your eyes anymore because of this man, they’re going to be stuck in the back of your skull. 

“Yeah, yeah. What did the professor say you needed to work on?” You want to get straight to business. The faster you get this done the faster you can leave.

“Uh, well. I don’t exactly know what.” He tries to smile to soften the blow of his incompetence as he sits next to you, but you are almost vibrating in anger at how useless he is.

Huffing, you angrily click at your laptop, going to check the email your professor gave you, knowing that Bucky couldn’t be trusted to remember. “James, please tell me how your grade is a 13% and you’re still in college?” You had no idea that someone could have a grade that low and not be kicked out of the entire course.

“What! No way, let me see that.” You slide the laptop over to him, showing the proof of his negligence. “Well, damn, we have a lotta work to do then, sweetcheeks.” You ignore his comment and pull up his most recent essay, surprised that he turned it in at all, but not shocked to see how terribly he did.

“James, what did you even think this essay was about?”

“Uh, nature and care?” Your mouth drops open and you just stare at him for a minute, making him squirm under your gaze.

“James, this was an essay on Frankenstein, and you were supposed to analyze the difference between nature versus nurture. You wrote about the fucking trees!”

Bucky clearly didn’t understand the problem with his essay. “Yeah, that’s nature!”

“No, James. Nature as in how you are, like how you were born, not how you were raised. You were supposed to compare how Victor was nurtured all his life but was full of hate and spite, but the creature never had any care but he was benevolent until everyone who encountered him abhorred him!”

You were talking too fast and Bucky didn’t understand a word of what you said. You were using words that he had never heard of before. “So, you can fix it, right, sweets?” That same sly smile was on his lips. The look on your face was enough to make him backtrack. “Uh, so we can fix this right? You know, since we’re a team now.”

The resting bitch face you gave him had him shifting his eyes around the library, trying to avoid it. As soon as he did, however, he regretted his decision when his party hook up locked eyes with him. His eyes immediately went to your laptop, typing random words onto the document you pulled up, trying to seem busy.

“So, sweetcheeks, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. So Victor is a bitch and Frankenstein is cool.” The sound of your voice correcting him by calling the creature Frankenstein is drowned out by the shrill voice of his past trist.

“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you since that party. See you're working hard, keeping up that 4.0 I see.” She lets out a giggle and strokes his bicep. You raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything about his supposed GPA. You’re taking great pleasure in watching Bucky squirm, clearly not wanting anything to do with her now that he’s gotten his rocks off. 

“And who is this? I bet my smart baby is helping her study, right? That’s so sweet of you to help out, really. Not everyone would want to help the ugly girl.” You wheeled your head back, about to bite her head off for daring to say shit about your looks when the foundation on her face was three shades lighter than her chest that was almost spilling out of her way too small top. Now you were never one to judge, but if someone comes for your looks, you come right back at them.

Before you got the chance to tear her a new one, Bucky interjected. “Ya’ know me, always helping out where I can, even those less fortunate than me.” His eyes were glued to her chest and you doubted that he even knew what she said to begin with. “Listen, Sandy, how about we catch up after I’m done and I can help you out too?”

The “sexy” look on her face dropped. “My name’s Sally, nevermind, you can have the ugly bitch!” Bucky cringes slightly at getting her name wrong again; he was never good with those. You don’t know why you were involved with their lovers quarrel, but a twinge of hurt sprouts in your heart. You didn’t even do anything to her and she had to come at you for your looks, and Bucky didn’t say a fucking word.

Grabbing your things, you pack them with more force than necessary, but you don’t give a fuck. “Sweetheart, where are ya’ going? Don’t listen to her, she’s just a bit jealous that I’m with ya’.”

How does he not see what he did wrong? You just glare at him before turning on your heels and walking away. There is no way that you’re going to spend anymore time or energy on him when he isn’t going to try. If it was anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t be so hurt, but for just one second you thought that Bucky wasn’t as bad as he made himself out to be.

“Sweets, c’mon, we still have that essay to write.” Was this man really following you down the hall? Yes, yes he was. 

You spin around, eyes ablaze just to walk back up to him and push his chest. “You have an essay to write because I. Am. Done. You don’t give a fuck about this and I refuse to put myself through this for nothing.”

“What did I even do?” Now you were shaking with anger.

“What did you do? You haven’t tried at all, showing up late, trying to get me to fuck you, and worst of all, you let someone talk about me like that right in front of you and didn’t say a fucking word. You know, for a second there I thought you might be a nice guy, but you proved me the fuck wrong.”

Bucky had the nerve to look angry at what you said. Pushing you against the wall, he stares into your eyes. “Sweets, you’re really starting to piss me off. I’m fucking trying and it’s not good enough for ya’. I ought to fuck that attitude right outta ya’.” His eyes drop down to your lips and you’re too stunned to speak, not expecting him to push you up against a wall. 

He was starting to scare you, getting into your space like this, but before you could tell him to back off his lips smashed against yours. It was rough and fast. Your lips stayed still but your eyes were wide open, shocked at what he was doing. You tried to push his chest, but he only got closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand dropping to your ass.

You struggled to free one of your hands, but as soon as you did you slapped Bucky in the face as hard as you could given your angle. He pulls back, shock on his face at the fact that you hit him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing! What made you think that I wanted to kiss you, asshole!” You try to wipe your lips, wanting to get the memory of his lips against yours off.

Bucky just stood there, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know what came over him. You shook your head and practically ran away to your dorm so you could shower and wash his touch off of you. The next day you were glad you didn’t have class with Bucky, but the remains of his kiss were still lingering. You didn’t even want to help him to begin with and this is how it ends up? With him forcing you to kiss him.

You didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, just wanting to forget the whole thing. But you couldn’t avoid Bucky for long since you did have to share a class together. He tried to come up to you, but you saw it out of the corner of your eye and switched seats before he could reach you. The entire hour and a half lecture was spent making sure Bucky wasn’t making his way any closer to you.

Instead of rushing out when class was over, you made your way down to your professors desk. “Professor, could I talk to you in your office for a minute? It’s important.” He might be relaxed most of the time, but your professor always made sure everyone in his class felt like they could talk to him if needed. 

Nodding his head, he leads you to his office and closes the door behind you, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bucky looking like a kicked puppy. He knew what you were about to talk about in that office, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Have a seat and tell me what’s going on. You’ve seemed off the past couple of lessons and I’m starting to get worried.”

You gulped, not knowing why it was so hard to say that you don’t want to tutor Bucky anymore. You didn’t want to let your professor down. Maybe it was because he reminded you of a father that you never had, but you just wanted to make him proud, showing him that you were capable of what he entrusted to you. He was looking at you, waiting to listen.

“Um, well, I have been distracted, but I think that it would be best for James to-” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence when you look at your professor. He trusted you to help Bucky and you can’t throw his trust away. “I think it would be best for James to have a more structured plan and I wanted to discuss that with you.”

The pride in his eyes was undeniable and you forgot about all the shit Bucky has put you through over the last few days. “Of course, what did you have in mind?” When you get out of his office, Bucky is still waiting, most likely missing the next party one of his friends is having.

You don’t even look at him, only grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him with you all the way down to the library. “Sweets, listen, I didn’t mean to make ya’ feel-” Turning around, you cut him off and he stumbles to a stop.

“No, I don’t want to hear it, James. You listen to me. We will meet in this library every other day at this exact time and you will keep your mouth shut and work. Do you hear me?” Bucky feels his pants tighten, but doesn’t say a word about it, slightly scared to talk back to you. 

He just nods his head, finally noticing how beautiful you were. How your eyes held so much emotion in them, even when you didn't let it show on your face. Or how your lips form a small frown, the sides pulling down giving you an adorable pout. The small belmishes on your face, the tiny imperfections, created the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“A nod is not an answer, James. Use your words.” Bucky swears that he could have cum in his pants at that exact moment. No woman has ever been so dominant with him in or out of the bedroom. 

He gulps before finding his voice again, hoarse but still working. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t let ya’ down again. I swear.” You stare into his eyes for a few seconds longer, determining if you believed him or not, giving Bucky more time to appreciate every part of your face he didn’t notice before.

You let go of his shirt and keep walking and Bucky follows you like a lost puppy, eyes downcast to your ass but not being able to see much with your hoodie going down past it. Instead of going to the corner of the library you were at last time, you walk to one of the private study rooms. “Sit and get your shit out.”

Bucky wastes no time following your direction, loving how brazen you were. You sit down next to him, giving him the opportunity to smell your perfume, the light scent intoxicating. “So, teach, what are we working on first?” His eyes are bright and attentive, taking in your facial expressions. He’s trying to butter you up, make you less angry at him.

“We have to fix your atrocious essay. It’s worth the most amount of points so hopefully it will bring your grade up.” You root through his binder, nothing organized at all. When you find it and pull it out you sigh, not knowing where to even start. “Okay, first things first, you need to at least understand what this is about.”

You explain everything to him, stopping to see if he is still following along, surprised to see him paying attention, going so far as to interrupt every so often to ask questions. For the first time since he got to college, Bucky is trying. The two of you sit there for a few hours, going over the essay line by line, fixing his mistakes. To your surprise, his grammar wasn’t too bad. At least he had something going for him.

The next few lessons go by the same way, Bucky working hard to not piss you off, but also to improve his grades. There were no flirty comments, no complaining about you being bossy. He was falling for you, something that Bucky never thought would happen to him.

He didn’t know how it started. Maybe it was that day you told him off, grabbing his shirt and putting him in his place. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. You were so beautiful and smart. God you were smart. It amazed him how easy it was for you to explain the assignments to him. 

Bucky stopped going to parties, too. For once he didn’t find interest in getting shitfaced drunk and sticking his dick in a random girl; although it was giving him his first ever case of blue balls, it just felt wrong to have sex with another girl. He tried once at the last party he went to before he decided to stop going, but her hand on his cock didn’t make him pulse with need. Bucky ended up faking a phone call, saying that his friend was in the hospital and he needed to go see him.

As the weeks pass, Bucky can tell you’re getting soft on him, especially when you called him Bucky for the first time.

 “C’mon, sweets, it can’t be that bad helpin’ me out.” Bucky leans back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered on his face. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, James because from where I stand, I’m losing IQ points by the minute with you.” You still try to sass him but Bucky can tell you’re fighting off a smile. The two of you talk like actual friends now - no more jabs at his promiscuity and no more ogling.

“Ah, I think it’s the other way around. I can feel myself gettin’ smarter with ya’.” Bucky puts his head on the table in front of you, moving so he could look at your face. His eyes glisten, showing the sweet man hidden underneath his tough exterior.

“Oh, give me a break, Bucky, you’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll do all the work for you.” You smile, looking down at him with the same adoration he’s giving you. His name leaving your lips felt right, smooth and sweet.

Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting his name to sound so damn good coming from you. He doesn’t say anything in fear of you going back to calling him James. Now that you’ve called him Bucky, he never wants to hear his first name come out of your mouth again. He wants to be your Bucky.

You can’t deny the feelings you’ve developed for Bucky. The man charming his way into your heart, but you know you can’t act on them. You doubt that Bucky has ever been in a serious relationship, only going for one night stands. Even though you’ve seen first hand how sweet of a man he can be, you still aren’t convinced that he would be interested in dating.

But Bucky doesn’t share the same sentiment. Today is the day he’s going to ask you on a date, hoping that you’ll say yes and give him a chance to prove himself to you, prove that he can be the man you deserve. Like always, you’re in the library before him, already set up and waiting. When you see him walking over you wave, the same gorgeous smile he fell for gracing your lips. 

You could tell that he was nervous, stuttering and not meeting your eyes. “Bucky, what’s going on with you? Don’t tell me that you forgot to turn in the essay that we’ve been working on.”

Bucky smiles sheepishly at you. “No, sweets, I remembered to turn it in. I, uh, well, ya’ know. I got a question for ya’.” Mentally slapping himself in the face, Bucky blushed.

Staring at him suspiciously, you pushed your laptop away, giving him your full attention. “Well, sweets, you’ve been so good to me over these past few weeks. Really turned me around. I didn’t think that I would be able to do all this college shit, you know?” It wasn’t a question that he wanted you to answer. “You made me change my ways. I don’t want to go to parties and get blackout drunk anymore. To be honest, I’d much rather spend my time with you.”

Bucky takes a deep breath while you gaze at him with a blank expression on your face, making him even more nervous than before. “Doesn’t matter what we’re doing, s’long as it’s with you I don’t care.”

You cut off his rambling, afraid of where he is going. “Bucky, what are you trying to say to me?” You know what he is trying to say, but you don’t know how to react to it. It’s not like you haven’t imagined what it would be like to go out with him, but that’s just not the man he is.

“I’m tryin’ to be romantic right now, sweets.” He lets out a little giggle, playing with his hands to try to calm himself down. “What I’m tryin’ to say is, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky feels his heart drop when you only stare at him, not even blinking. His knee starts to bounce, the anticipation becoming too much for him.

You sigh, thinking about what to say to him. The two of you have a good friendship, one that you never thought you would have, but starting a relationship with him is terrifying. “Bucky, listen.” Just from the way you started your sentence, Bucky regrets saying anything. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I really do, but I can’t deny that your past scares me.”

“What do you mean, sweets?” For a man so observant, he can be a little dumb.

“You don’t do relationships, Bucky. You’re used to no strings attached and dating includes a lot of strings.” Bucky clenches his jaw, of course his past would come back to bite him in the ass.

“I don’t want no strings attached anymore. I want to be with you and only you.” You close your eyes, putting your head down slightly. You want to believe him, you really do, but you don’t want to get your heart broken. Gently, Bucky’s hand grabs your chin, moving you to face him. “Let me prove myself to you, sweets, just give me a chance and if I blow it I give you full permission to kick my ass.”

That brings a small smile to your lips, but you’re still not convinced. “What if you get bored of me? Being with the same person over and over again?” Bucky’s heart aches at your words, not used to seeing you unsure of yourself. How could he ever get tired of you? He knows that he is the one who caused your insecurities. If he didn’t sleep around as much as he did, then you wouldn’t worry about his loyalty.

“Sweetheart, ever since you put me in my place, I haven’t touched another woman, can’t even think about someone who isn’t you touchin’ me. Just one chance is all I’m askin’ and I promise that I will show you how much I care.”

Closing your eyes, you lean into his warm palm, letting yourself feel him. His eyes hold so much vulnerability and you feel yourself losing the ability to say no to him. “Just one chance, Barnes. And if you hurt me I swear to God.” You’ve never seen Bucky smile so wide, pure joy adorning his face. 

The smile never left his face, only growing wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweets. What about you come over to my dorm and we can have a movie night? Maybe you could even stay over?” He looks sheepish, worried you’ll turn him down. At the quirk of your brow he rushes to explain himself. “Not like that! Just to hang out.”

You head back to your dorm to get a change of clothes while Bucky waits outside so he could walk with you back to his. As soon as you walk out, he is rushing to grab your bag from you, insisting that he carries it. “Bucky, I can carry my own bag, you know. I’m capable of that much.” He loves your little attitude, never accepting his help.

Throwing an arm over your shoulder, Bucky leads you away, not giving you your bag back. His dorm is just what you expect from a college frat boy: trash can overflowing, clothes on the floor, food left out, bed a complete mess. Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky shyly looks at you. You decide to only give him a little bit of grief for the mess. “Am I allowed on the bed or have you fucked someone here?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, frantically shaking his head. “No, never brought anyone back to my dorm.” Toeing your shoes off, you ask him where the bathroom is, changing your clothes before you flop onto the bed, letting yourself sink into the fluffy mattress. For a minute, Bucky feels his brain malfunction. The sight of you in his bed is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He would give his left arm to have you naked right now, his cock buried deep inside you, your pussy pulsing around his cock, moaning when he rubs little circles on your clit.

“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna put on a movie, loverboy?” Shaking his head, Bucky nods and heads over to grab his laptop before climbing into bed, leaving space in between the two of you in case you didn’t want to be too close. “I didn’t know that hanging off the side of the bed was your style, but if you want to leave me to freeze feel free to do so.”

Bucky doesn’t know how to act around you, this whole dating thing is uncharted territory for him. He just moves over, your thigh pressed to his. Bucky had to will his cock to not get hard, the softness of your body was making it hard to think straight. The fact that he’s only jerked off for the past month isn’t helping either.

You move to get more comfortable, which so happens to include you snuggling into his side, curling your arms around his bicep. Bucky has no clue what the movie is about, the image of all the things he wants to do to you in this bed are too much for him. He doesn’t know what the feeling passing over him is. He likes this. He likes the feeling of your body pressed to his. Not in a sexual way, although he wouldn’t mind that either, but in a completely innocent way. Bucky never stayed around after he came, always getting dressed and leaving. He’s never had a woman press their body against his just to find comfort.

Somehow, Bucky is following along with the plot of the movie, but he knows that it was just because of how you interacted with all the characters like they could hear you. Bucky would usually hate that, he hates when people talk through movies, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. If anything, he was glad that you kept talking, giving him the opportunity to hear your voice.

Halfway through the movie you stop talking. When Bucky looks down he sees that you fell asleep on his chest. Of course at that moment Bucky’s bladder decided that he needed to pee urgently. He tried to hold off for as long as he could, focusing on the part of your mouth and the bit of drool leaking from it. But try as he might, he needed to use the bathroom. 

He tried to maneuver you to not disturb your sleep but you woke up as soon as he moved. “Where you going?” Shit, he’s going to have to pee with a boner because your sleepy voice sent blood right to his cock. 

“Just gotta take a leak, be right back.” You just snuggle deeper into the pillows, humming in understandment. Bucky has to put one hand on the wall in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet at an awkward angle trying to push his erection down with his other hand so he could pee. It took a bit of work, but he was able to go without making a mess. Now, Bucky might be a lot of things, but unhygienic isn’t one of them and before he goes back to bed he washes his hands.

Once he walks back into the room he sees that you’re more awake than before but still laying in bed. He hits the lightswitch on his way over and turns on the lamp, letting the soft glow illuminate your features. “What took you so long? Almost fell back asleep.”

Before he could answer, you wrap your body around his and feel his hard cock through his sweats. Pulling away slightly, your face gets hot. That’s why he took so long. “Shit, sweets, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you were in my bed, and you look so gorgeous. Not that I’m expecting anything! But the image of you is fucking hot. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your giggle catches him by surprise. “It’s okay, Bucky. Can’t imagine going from having sex all the time to being abstinent for a month.” With the soft glow of the lamp, you see Bucky’s blush. “Just don’t think I’m going to fix it for you though.” He shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pulling you back into him, keeping his pelvis away from yours even though his dick was begging for release.

Bucky doesn’t say anything back, but his hand moves to your waist, resting over your shirt. His thumb rubs small circles before he trails his hand up to your ribs and you can feel the heat of his palm through your shirt. For a few minutes he keeps his hand there, feeling your heartbeat, all the while moving his face closer.

He can feel your heartbeat pick up the closer he gets. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and inviting. You’ve never been this close to his face, seeing all of his freckles up close. You don’t want him to pull away, not when your whole body is thrumming with need. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that Bucky could be this gentle.

He moves his hand up to your arm, delicately trailing his fingertips up and down, giving you goosebumps. Bucky is waiting for you to make the first move this time. The first time he kissed you was crass and unwarranted. The little gasp that leaves your lips when his palm rests on your cheek makes his cock jump.

Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in first. His plump lips meet yours and you moan into his mouth, not expecting his lips to be so soft and warm. You move your hands to his chest, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel his whole body pressed to yours. You ignore the erection pressed against your stomach, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

Bucky frees his other hand from under him and wraps it around your waist, pulling you on top of him. The pressure of his hand caused you to arch your back, gasping when your core meets his hard dick. Bucky doesn’t waste the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste. He has to use every bit of self control in his body not to buck his hips up, but he doesn’t have to because you grind down onto him, searching for friction. The harder you kiss him, the more his will slips from him and he was the first to break the kiss, a trail of saliva still connecting you to him.

Both of you gasp for breath, having deprived yourselves of oxygen for too long. “Why’d you stop?” God, you were perfect. Eyes wide, pupils blown, kiss swollen lips - Bucky knew that he wanted to keep you like this all the time, having you look at him like that was addicting and he was already hooked.

“If we keep going I won’t be able to control myself and I told you that I’m going to prove to you that I’m in this. That I don’t want you just for sex. I’m going to treat you right, make sure you know how much I care first.” You have to bite your lip to stop the moan leaving you. That was the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. The fact that Bucky, the resident fuckboy, is denying sex because he wants to show you what you mean to him first has your cunt clenching around nothing.

You can’t think of words to convey how much that means to you, so you just slam your lips against his, kissing him with as much passion as you possibly could. Bucky has to use every morsel of restraint to move you off of him. “Sweets, you’re going to kill me with this.” The giggle you let out makes leaving his throbbing dick alone worth it, but you take pity on him and ask if he wants to go to the bathroom to fix his issue.

At first he declines, but he eventually caves and goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and handles his business. You scroll on your phone for a bit but you’re surprised when he comes back so fast. “Loverboy, this better not be a sign that you don’t last in bed, because when we do have sex, I want you to fuck me properly.”

As he flops back down on the bed, he groans. When, you said when, not if, when. “Sweets, if I hadn’t just came my dick would be rock hard again. You can’t say shit like that to me.” He rolls over, stradling you. “And sweets, I promise you, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your name.”

You just raise your eyebrows, choosing to tease him a bit. “Well, based on the time you spent touching yourself, I’m not convinced. Hope your reputation hasn’t gone to your head because I’ll be honest if you can’t fuck me right.”

Bucky squints his eyes at you before leaning down, like he was going to kiss you again, but at the last moment, he pulls back and tickles your sides. Your laughter is easily one of his favorite sounds. “Bucky! Stop or else I’ll never have sex with you.” That makes him pause, even though he knew it was an empty threat and lays back down next to you.

“Okay, okay, sweets, I’ll leave you be. But I wouldn’t be opposed to you tickling me.” 

“What, is this a kink that you have, being tickled?” He scrunches his nose while he laughs, knowing what he was going to say next.

“No, but I would love it if you would tickle my pickle.” He smirks like it was the best joke ever told, proud of himself. You groan and turn away from him so he can’t see your smile. “C’mon, sweets, that was a good one.”

If you turn around you know you’ll see his puppy dog eyes. “Buck, that was the worst joke in the history of jokes.” 

“Ah, ah, I can hear your smile. You loved it.” You don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you liked his joke. It’s silent for a moment and you are about to turn back around but Bucky talks before you can. “Do you mind if we spoon? I mean, you don’t have to stay overnight, but if you want to, ya’ know.”

“Well, it is pretty cold outside, and I would hate to have to walk all the way back. And who knows, I could freeze to death at my dorm. Better be safe than sorry.” Bucky knows what you're doing and plays along.

“Of course, sweets, can’t have my girl freeze. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t keep my girl warm.” You skooch back, pressing against his chest and his arms circle your waist, chin resting on your head. “Night, sweets, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Only if I don’t run away, loverboy.” You feel the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles before leaning back to turn the lamp off, falling asleep with your soft body pressed to his.

Over the next few months, Bucky proves himself to be the perfect boyfriend, always asking you how your day was, remembering all the little things about you, kissing you and holding your hand around campus, not giving a single fuck who saw the two of you. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit he was whipped.

“Buck, c’mon, this is the best fucking party of the year, you have to go. It’s gonna be packed with girls in slutty costumes, Halloween man, everyone wants to fuck everyone.” Bucky only rolls his eyes at Steve.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, parties aren’t for me anymore. Hangovers suck dick and I have better things to do in my free time.” Steve doesn’t seem to understand how much Bucky loved you. He’s never said it, at least not yet. 

“Like what, hanging out with the nerd who hasn’t put out in three months? C’mon, I know you want some pussy and it’s gonna be on a fucking platter tonight.” Bucky sees red, not giving a shit that Steve is his best friend. No one talks about his girl like that, no one.

“Steve, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but you fucking know how much I care about her. If I ever hear you call her that shit again, I’ll put you in the fucking hospital. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how long I have to wait for her to know that I don’t just want a pussy to fuck, not anymore. I’m done with the parties and the random girls, okay. So get that through your thick skull.”

He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, storming out of Steve’s dorm and walking away, not even caring where he was headed. He doesn’t know how he got there, but he stands outside of your door, raising his hand to knock. You always answer the door for him and this time is no different.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” You were so tuned into him, reading him like a book. Without waiting you pull him into your dorm, shutting and locking the door behind him, leading him to your bed. His jaw was clenched, eyes set. If he was a cartoon, steam would be pouring from his ears.

“Fucking Steve.” He kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable in your bed, you following right after. You would go anywhere he goes.

Cuddling up to him, you pull him into you and his muscles relax at your touch, body responding to yours without thought. “What about Steve? You two get into a fight?” You never really liked Steve, but he was Bucky’s friend and you would listen to whatever he had to say about Steve. He was just like Bucky was before he met you.

“Being a fucking asshole. You wanna know what he said to me?” Bucky doesn’t wait for you to answer, only turning his head to see you better before continuing. “Wanted me to go to the Halloween party tonight, talking about all the girls that want to fuck as if he doesn’t know that I’m with you.” That doesn’t seem as bad as you thought, thinking that they got into a fist fight. It doesn’t surprise you that Steve was still trying to convince Bucky to go back to his playboy ways.

But Bucky wasn’t finished. “He had the fucking nerve to say that I should go because we haven’t had sex yet, like I give a shit about that. Fucking disrespected you right to my face.” You couldn’t deny that you were turned on by the fact that Bucky was defending your honor even when you weren’t there, not letting anyone bad mouth you.

“And what did you say, Buck?” Fuck, your voice was breathy, heartrate picking up. You wanted to hear what he said, how he told his best friend off. Bucky didn’t seem to pick up on your arousal, still too heated from his argument.

“Fucking told his ass that if he ever says that shit again, I’ll fuck him up. No one talks about my girl like that, don’t give a shit who it is.” You swear you could cum right now. Why was that so hot? Maybe it was because you’ve never had a man that didn’t let anyone disrespect you, or maybe you just liked to see him mad.

“I want you, Bucky. Want you to fuck me.” It just comes out, shocking the both of you. Bucky whips his head around, eyes as wide as your own.

“What?” 

“I want you to fuck me. I’m ready, know you don’t just want to use me.” Bucky’s dick is rock hard in seconds, all the anger in his body disapparating instantly. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweets? Because I have no problem waiting.” Throughout the course of your dating, Bucky can’t count the amount of times that he’s been hard and left his cock untouched. It’s gotten to the point where the two of you knew he was going to get hard when he was around you, not that it bothered you, knowing how much you were affecting him, but Bucky’s used to ignoring his erection now and he has no problem waiting for it to go away if you don’t want to have sex with him.

“Yes, Bucky, I think I’ve made you wait long enough. And to be honest, if I make you wait any longer I don’t think you’ll last more than a minute.” The mouth on you marvels Bucky every time. 

“Excuse me, sweets, but I’ll have you know I’m no two pump chump.” You only raise an eyebrow and Bucky huffs before kissing you again. It’s slow and hot. Bucky’s never kissed like this before, but with you he just can’t help but savor the feeling of your lips on his. He doesn’t want to rush, if he could he would kiss you forever, stuck in limbo, floating with only your touch to ground him.

You whine, hands pulling at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. Bucky moves back, smirking at you. “Desperate, aren’t we? Just wanna feel me ‘gainst you, huh?” Teasing hasn’t been something Bucky really did, always hurrying to the main event, but he wants to make you crave him as much as he does you. 

The glare you give him holds no heat, not able to be mad at him when he’s looking so damn hot above you. Bucky relents, just this once, and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach. He sucks a breath in through his teeth when your hands land on his abs. “Holy hell, woman! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” You giggle but don’t pull away, sitting up and moving your hands across his back, slipping them into his sweats, finding his bare ass and squeezing.

“Well, loverboy, warm them up for me.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling at you. He takes your hands out of his pants and lays you back down, letting his warm palms circle the soft skin of your belly under your shirt. 

“Can I take this off, sweetheart? Gonna let me see those pretty tits?” Your cunt pulses at his words. Men that you’ve been with before haven’t talked to you like this, making you yearn for them.

“I mean, you can take it off but they’re not that pretty.” Bucky wheels his head back, clearly offended by your statement. For the first time, you shy away from his gaze. You weren’t exactly insecure about your body, but you also weren’t the most confident and you doubt that your body is better than the surplus of girls Bucky’s had.

“I beg your fucking pardon, sweets. I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.” Bucky lowers his face to yours, and you’re sure he is looking right through you. 

“Well, I doubt they’re the best pair you’ve seen, Buck. Don’t roll your eyes at me either.” You catch the eye roll Bucky gave you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes at you, but rather the words you were saying.

“I can’t believe my ears, sweets. The smartest girl I’ve ever met is saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve heard. And that’s coming from the guy who is friends with Sam.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes and instead of saying anything back to him, you grab the bottom of your shirt and take it off, revealing your naked chest to him, foregoing a bra.

Like any man, Bucky gets distracted by the sight of your breasts on display for him. It takes him a second, but he shakes his head and comes back from his daze. “Fuck, sweetheart, you got the prettiest set of tits I’ve ever fuckin’ seen. Fucking perfect.” Bucky isn’t lying either, he really does think that you’re the most beautiful woman on the entire planet, every part of your body is perfection. “Should be a model, sweets, let everyone see how gorgeous you are.”

You feel the heat creep up your neck and rest on your cheeks. You aren’t used to being looked at like this. The look he’s giving you is so much different from when you first started working with him. It’s not filled with lust, although you can tell it’s there, but filled with awe and love. “Uh, uh, don’t look away from me. Want you to look at me while I make you cum.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot that he found the first time you made out. The little gasps and whines that leave your lips has his cock begging to be touched, but right now it isn’t about him, it’s about you.

You arch your back, pressing your soft breasts against his solid chest, drawing his attention away from your neck and to your tits. Trailing kisses down your chest, he swirls his tongue around your right breast, purposely avoiding your sensitive nipple. He doesn’t listen to any of your protests so you take matters into your own hands and grab a fistfull of his hair and jerk his head to where you want him to be. 

 The moan that leaves Bucky is pornographic, having no idea he liked his hair pulled that much. Bucky abides and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. “Oh, Bucky, just like that, feels good.” Bucky has to buck his hips into yours, never hearing something so sexy in all his life.

His other hand comes up to grab your other breast, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, every so often switching to give each one the attention they deserve. The longer he plays with your breasts, the more you feel your panties soak and you can’t take it anymore, needing some type of release.

Bucky pulls away with a pop, the cool air hitting your wet nipples makes you gasp. “Baby, I need you to touch me.” You can sense the words about to leave his mouth and answer his unspoken question. “Touch my pussy.”

Letting out a deep groan, Bucky grabs the hem of your sleep shorts, pulling them and your panties down when you nod. Your hand jets down to cover your pussy when you remember that you haven’t shaved, not expecting to have sex with Bucky tonight. “Wait, I have hair right now, maybe we shouldn’t.”

Bucky just blinks at you. He can’t believe that you would deprive him of your pussy because of a little hair. “Sweets, I have been a patient man, but I swear to God if you don’t move your hand and let me see my pretty pussy I’m going to lose my mind. You really think I give a shit if you have some fucking hair?”

You just smile sheepishly at him before removing your hand. “There she is. Look at her, so beautiful ain’t she? Yeah, she’s dripping for me, knows who she belongs to.” Fuck, you didn’t expect him to be so enamored with your cunt. “Ya gonna let me touch my pretty girl?”

You gulp before giving a breathy yes and Bucky spreads your legs a little wider and brings his right hand up to your pussy lips, gently tracing them making you twitch and giggle. “Bucky, that tickles.” Bucky smiles and his nose scrunches before his thumb goes from your hole up to your clit. “Fuck, Bucky, rub my clit.”

He just stops his movement, resting his thumb on your bundle of nerves. “This is where I’m in charge, sweets, and I don’t think that was a very polite way of talking to the man who is touching you.” You huff, not used to taking orders from anyone, but you want him to keep touching you so you relent.

“Will you please, rub my clit, loverboy.”

Bucky clicks his tongue at you. “Now, sweets, that didn’t sound very genuine but I’ll let it slide this time because I want to see this pretty pussy soak your sheets.” 

He starts to rub your clit from side to side, making you jerk your hips away. “Don’t fucking DJ my cunt. Circles, Buck, circles. You’re making me lose faith in you, babe.” Heat makes its way up his neck, his selfishness finally catching up to him. He doesn’t say anything, but switches up his method to what you said and you giggle at his confidence wavering.

His little slip up doesn’t slow him down, though, quickly finding the pace and pressure that seems to work best and draws those pretty sounds from your lips. Bucky knows that he isn’t going to be able to get enough of this, of you laid out before him, consumed by the pleasure he is giving you. 

“You want my fingers inside ya? Cause I wanna feel my pretty girl cum around my fingers.” You can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t remember if you’ve ever gotten to the edge this fast. All you can do is nod, moans and gasps the only sounds leaving your lips.

When his first finger slips inside you, your back arches and somehow the moans leaving you get even sexier and Bucky slips another finger in. “That’s it, pretty girl, suck my fingers in. Doing so good for me, knew you’d treat me so well. Don’t ya think, sweets?” The way he talks to your pussy has you leaking more arousal out.

“Please, Bucky, don’t stop, keep going just like that. M’gonna cum.”

A jolt of excitement shoots up Bucky’s spine. He wanted to see you cum so bad. Using every bit of self control in his body not to speed up, Bucky kept the same pace, curling his fingers to find that spongy patch. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, sweets, need to feel my pretty girl cum on my fingers. Promise I’ll feed her my cock after.”

Bucky groans with each clench of your cunt around his fingers, more desperate than you for your orgasm. “C’mon, sweets, give it to me. Can feel your clit pulsing. Be my good girl and give me what I want.” That was all you needed to fall off the edge, trusting that Bucky would catch you. 

Bucky’s sure that the sight of you cumming is the greatest thing in the world. He couldn’t dream of fucking you and not seeing you fall apart for him. He never stops moving his fingers, riding out your orgasm, only relenting when you push his hand away. It takes a few minutes, but you come back down, an open mouth smile on your face, eyes closed and Bucky falls even harder for you.

Blindly, you search for his pants, wanting to see his cock. “Bring him out, Buck, wanna see my new friend.” If it wasn’t for the orgasm he just gave you, Bucky would have been positive that you were drunk off your ass. Doubling over, Bucky cackles, not expecting to hear that come out of your mouth. “Don’t you laugh at me, loverboy, know your cock is huge. Let me meet him. Wanna put him in my mouth.” You give him a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t worry, sweets, you can meet him.” Bucky struggles to hold back his laugh. In all fairness, he did refer to your pussy as her, but the thought of you calling his dick him is hilarious. Nonetheless, Bucky strips the rest of his clothes off and you practically drool at the sight of his dick.

A little over average length, but thick as hell. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cock that thick and you know he is going to destroy your cunt. Under his cock, his balls were heavy and full, the amount of cum in there building up just for you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him into you and Bucky has to catch himself with his arms so he doesn’t crush you with his weight. 

You both gasp when his bare cock rubs against your soaking cunt. Bucky has to close his eyes and think about all the assignments he still has to complete to stop himself from cumming on the spot. “Want it inside me, please, Buck, give it to me.” Bucky is near the verge of crying when you grind your cunt on him.

All you want is for him to fuck you until you can’t see straight and so does Bucky, but it takes everything in him to put away, knowing that the next words to come out of his mouth aren’t going to be sexy. “Hold on, sweets. I have to get a condom first.”

You don’t like that one bit, wanting to feel him inside you with no barrier. “Don’t need one, ‘m on the pill.” That has Bucky about to cum all over the sheets and your pussy. He knows that he needs to be responsible, not only for him, but for you too.

“Sweets, I, well, I haven’t been tested since my last partner. I’ve never done it without a condom, but I don’t want to risk it until I get tested.” He hangs his head in shame, yet again his promiscuity is coming back to bite him in the ass. What he wouldn’t give to feel your sopping cunt choke his dick, hell only knows, but his statement seems to sober you up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” You can’t meet his eyes, the conversation awkward enough even if you weren’t about to fuck. Bucky takes in a deep breath and huffs out, clearly not knowing what to do next so you decide to lighten the mood. “Well, loverboy, you better wrap that bad boy up so you can prove that you can actually fuck me like you said you would. Top drawer. I got the good ones.”

You got Bucky to crack a smile before he gave a small smack to your thigh and walked over to your nightstand to get a condom. You wolf whistled when you saw his toned ass. “Damn, baby, you’ve been holding out on me?”

Bucky wheels around and says some clever retort, but you don’t hear it, not when his cock swings around with him, bobbing at the sudden change of direction. Not only that, but with each step he takes, his dick bounces up and down. “Sweetheart, it’s all yours. Stare all you want but close your mouth before I put somethin’ in there.”

Bucky rolls the condom down his length, giving it a few pumps while he admires you laid out on the bed, naked and ready for him to fuck you. Before he climbs back into bed, you stop him. “Wait, loverboy, do a little spin for me, let me see him move.”

Throwing his head back, Bucky lets out a belly laugh, and he just so happens to make his cock and balls bounce. “C’mon, s’all I want.” When he calms down, Bucky relents and circles his hips a few times, his cock, although stiff, moves with his hips and you have to close your legs to try to relieve the ache in your core. “Fuck, need you now, Bucky.”

“Yeah, sweets, you need my cock? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed with my cock?” No smart retort comes to your mind, only the need to have him fill you up. It’s been way too long since you’ve had sex and you know Bucky’s cock is going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Please, Buck.” Fuck, the way you’re looking at him, with wide, pleading eyes, and a pout on your lips has Bucky’s dick pulsing. He climbs on the bed, in between your legs. “How do you want me?” You’ve overheard Bucky relive his one night stands more than once in class, before he fell for you. He was always adamant that the only positions worth doing were the ones where he could see the girl’s ass, and how boring positions where he could see her face were. 

Bucky stares at you for a second, cupping your face and leaning down to give you a tender kiss. “Want you just like this, sweets, wanna see you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself not to cry at how intimate he’s being. Despite your best efforts, tears well up in your eyes, making Bucky panic.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” His eyes hold so much love, something Bucky never thought he would feel for a partner. You wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging like a koala.

“Not a damn thing, Buck, just love you. Love you so fucking much it hurts.” Bucky feels his heart swell. If this is what it felt like to love and be loved, Bucky would spend the rest of his life trying to keep you, show you how perfect you are, love you as hard as he can and then some.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even put into words how much I fucking love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, made me change from the asshole I was.” Bucky had his own tears welling up in his waterline.

“Buck, make love to me, show me how much you love me.” Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his dick, drawing a gasp from his lips, and line him up with your pussy. He presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes as he pushes in, cock stretching your cunt with every inch.

Crashing his lips into yours, Bucky tries to hide his moan, whiny and long, never feeling such intense pleasure. Neither of you can kiss, just gasping into the other’s mouth. When his hips are flush with yours, balls resting against your ass, Bucky has to stop. If he moves he’ll cum; he knows it. He’s never felt like he would cum on the first stroke, but the way your cunt hugs him has him doubting that he’ll last more than a few minutes.

You can’t handle it, the stretch of his cock almost too much, but you needed him to move. “Please, baby, move, need it.” The moan that leaves him is sinful and you involuntarily clench around him.

“Sweets, can’t. Need a minute.” His arms go to your waist, and he pulls you up, groaning when his cock shifts deeper inside you, and sits with his back against the headboard, keeping you wrapped in his arms, bodies pressed so close together you could feel every muscle. Bucky closes his eyes, resting his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and relishing in the intimacy of the moment, with your breasts squished against his chest, feeling every breath you take, loving your soft hands scratching his scalp.

“Do this with all the girls, loverboy?” The breathiness in your voice has his cock pulsing against your walls.

“Never, sweetheart, never. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky sounded like he was about to cry with how hard he was trying not to cum.

You wanted him to fuck you, pussy leaking down his thighs. You decided that if you annoy him enough he might just fuck you dumb. “Guess I was right then, loverboy can’t last in bed. Gonna tell everyone how I broke your cock, how fast you came for me.”

That seemed to strike a nerve and Bucky rolled over, pining you to the bed with his body. You gasped at the quick motion and the jostle of his cock. “Sweets, now is not the time to tease me. Use your mouth for something better.” He could already hear your, like what, so he cut you off before you could get anything out. “Like moaning my name while I fuck you.”

He doesn’t pull his cock out far, wanting to stay as close to you as possible. Pushing back in, he groans, having to will himself not to cum. You feel so good, pussy wrapped around him perfectly. “Sweets, love you so much, never wanna leave this pussy.” You whine, a jolt of pleasure going through your clit at his words. 

“Love you too, Buck. Want to stay like this forever, want you.” It’s Bucky’s turn to whine, rutting into you, the coarse curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, the sensation of your breasts pressed against him new. 

He can’t help it, you just look too pretty underneath him, grabbing both of your hands in his, lacing them together and putting them above your head and pressing his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. His lips meet yours, both of your whines and moans mix together. 

The constant roll of his hips is pushing you to the edge faster than ever before. You take one of your hands, still laced with his, and place it over his heart, feeling the erratic beat. The coil in your stomach is curling tighter and tighter. “C’mon, sweets, can feel you clenching ‘round me. Give it to me, cum on my cock.” 

Bucky is doing his best to hold on, wanting this moment to last, to relish in the bubble the two of you have created. His moans get louder, his own orgasm creeping up on him. Wiggling your other hand out of his grasp, you run your fingers over the back of his head, crashing your lips on his before you fall off the edge, eyes rolling back and body quivering, his body the only thing grounding you.

He had to pull out, your pussy almost milking his cum out, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wants to make you cum again, this time while he looks at your face, seeing it scrunch up in pleasure. You didn’t seem too happy at him for pulling out, needing him to be as close as possible. “Keep fucking me, Bucky. I need you to cum for me.”

Bucky groans before guiding his cock back home, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your pussy somehow got even tighter. Not wasting any time, he starts thrusting again, this time much faster, still rolling his hips, hitting your sweet spot every time.

Pulling his body away from yours, Bucky sits up, resting your thighs over his, keeping his dick inside of you, not missing a single thrust. With the new position, he can see your breasts bounce, but more importantly, how beautiful your face looks screwed in ecstasy. “So fucking beautiful for me, sweets. Love the way your pretty tits jiggle, look gorgeous when your getting fucked dumb on my cock, gonna keep you like this all the time.” 

In this position, your clit is being neglected so you reach one hand down, desperate to cum again. Bucky quickly swats your hand away, replacing it with his own. “Ah, ah, I’m gonna make my girl cum. Just want you to lay there and look pretty for me. Can you do that for me?” You just moan in response, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit, bringing you to the edge again. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you want.” You feel Bucky’s cock pulsing inside of you, thrusts becoming sloppy and losing their rhythm. “Cum for me, Bucky, fill me up with your cum.” You both know that he is wearing a condom, but the thought of his cum rushing into your pussy, stuffing you to the brim, is enough to have Bucky emptying his balls into the rubber, groaning deep, almost whining your name.

He can’t stop thrusting into you, still rubbing your clit, desperate for you to cum around him. “Sweets, so much fucking cum for you, know you can take it. Fuck, cum for me, milk my cock, get every drop out.” Bucky was right, you looked absolutely divine when you came. At that moment you’ve never looked prettier.

Bucky never felt an orgasm that intense, leaving him weak in the knees. Collapsing onto your chest, not able to hold his own weight up. You huff, air being pushed out of your lungs, but you don’t mind, his weight soothing, helping to bring you back down from the high of your orgasms. You both lay there, hands stroking each other until you fully come back to reality.

“Gonna pull out, sweets, okay?” Bucky has never had his cock in a girl this long after he’s came, and it was getting too sensitive. Words don’t come to mind and you just nod your head dumbly, both of you hissing at the sensation.

Without a word, Bucky gets up and heads to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean himself up. All of a sudden tears well up in your eyes, body cold and craving his touch. He’s been so sweet to you for the past months, proving that he didn’t just want sex with you, but now he’s walking away as soon as you’re done. 

The buzzing of your body goes away, dread filling you. Rolling over, you burrito yourself under the covers, facing away from the bathroom, not able to stop the tears from streaming down your face. It only takes a few minutes, but to you it feels like a lifetime, until Bucky comes back, sliding under the covers himself. 

“So, sweets, what do ya’ want to do? I could go for a bite to eat myself. Don’t know when the last time you ate was though.” Bucky, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of the best sex of his life, already thinking about all the things he could do with you, all the ways he could get you to cum for him.

When you don’t respond right away, Bucky thinks you fell asleep. Leaving a kiss to the back of your head, he gets up and puts his sweats on, not bothering with anything else and heads to your kitchen. He doesn’t feel like making a full meal so he decides to just make a quick sandwich and head back to bed after eating.

You burst into full blown sobs when Bucky leaves, assuming that he left your dorm all together, having no idea that he was just outside. How could you have been so stupid to think that he really wanted you? Bucky goes to take a bite out of his snack when he hears your sobs, immediately thinking the worst - he hurt you, did something you didn’t like.

Rushing back into the room, Bucky climbs back into bed, rolling you over without warning. “What are you still doing here? Thought you left?” How could you ever think that he would leave you?

“No, sweets, just went to make a sandwich. What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Bucky has never been so fucking scared in all his life, terrified that he hurt you.

“Thought you left after you got what you wanted. You just left me in the bed after we were done.” Bucky’s eyes widened, not expecting you to say that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong. He’s never stuck around after sex, confused at what’s going on with you.

“Sweets, I’m so sorry that I made you think that, but I don’t know what’s going on. Need you to talk to me. I don’t want you to think I don’t care.” Your bottom lip wobbled, of course he didn’t know about aftercare. It wasn’t his fault that he never had a relationship like this. It meant so much to you that he was asking how to fix his mistake.

“I get really sensitive after sex. It’s annoying actually, but I need to be held and told that you still love me.” You avoid his gaze, more tears making their way down your face, Bucky wiping them away. How could his perfect girl think that her needs were annoying or an inconvenience to him.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Bucky pulls you into his lap, almost petting your hair. “You did so good for me, you know that? I love you so fucking much and nothing is going to change that, okay?” He pulls your head back to look into your eyes.

“It’s just that my last boyfriend said that he couldn’t look at me after sex, said he couldn’t see me the same way.” What in the fuck. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to understand that I know that I’m the fucking luckiest man alive to be able to be with you any way you let me. When I look at you I’m so proud to call you mine.”

You bury your head in his shoulder, letting him hold you and whisper sweet words in your ear. For his first time doing aftercare, Bucky is doing great and soon you come all the way down. Pulling away from him you giggle. “Love you too, Buck. Thank you for that. I know some men don’t care about that. After they get what they want they leave.” Bucky hangs his head in shame, thinking about all the girls he made feel like they were worthless. “I know that you did the same thing, but the fact that you were so willing to change means a lot to me.”

Bucky knows that there’s a lot he has to learn about being in a relationship, but he wants to learn it all to be the man you deserve. He is going to treat you like the goddess you are for the rest of his life, he knows it, already planning on picking out a ring, because he’s gonna love you for a long, long time.

[dedalvs]

My brother and I absolutely cackled after that Aemond and Aegon Valyrian exchange!

I wanted to ask (and I'm terrible at conlangs, so forgive me) what grammar/syntax Aegon is stumbling over here and how to properly say what he intended to? Any why is he making thise mistakes (simply lacking the vocabulary, or rules of the language he hasn’t grasped)?

Let's take a look at it. This is what he said:

Nyke koston... Bēvilus... Sētegon bīlīvāzmi?

The subtitles say this:

"I can... Have to... Make a war?"

Prior to this Aemond is, essentially, showing off. He knows that Aegon has simply not put any time into studying Valyrian (or studying anything). At this stage, Valyrian is no longer spoken by the family on a day-to-day basis—especially as Alicent probably never learned it at all (or if she did, only in a few scattered lessons here and there; not to actually use). In order for either of the boys to gain any kind of fluency in the language, they have to study constantly and find ways to use it. There's simply no daily need for the language—and plenty of reasons not to use it, as very, very few people they'll encounter on a daily basis speak the language.

Now, if we were talking about two random people in Westeros, this wouldn't mean anything. But these are the children of Viserys Targaryen, himself a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror. They brought their family line and their culture with them to Westeros—and, of course, their language. If someone like Alicent Hightower doesn't speak High Valyrian it means nothing. If a Targaryen doesn't speak High Valyrian, though… See, they're supposed to be able to speak Valyrian. Failing to do so carries with it a sense of shame that isn't present for a random person who doesn't speak Valyrian. Aemond knows this. Aegon is annoying him, so he goes poking at that wound.

Aemond could have fed him a short line with an obvious answer to help Aegon out, but instead he threw a whole mess of Valyrian at him. The longer it goes on, the more lost Aegon gets, desperately trying to catch up and figure out what was just said and thereby missing what is being said at that instant. From the whole speech, Aegon probably only figured out that he was being asked a question, and it was something having to do with planning.

So, back to what he says. The beginning student of a language is quite adept at doing a single verb in a present tense sentence. In a discussion like this, though, you're typically saying things like "I think that" or "We should" or "I suggest" or "Perhaps we might", etc. All that stuff that we need to offer opinions, make suggestions, hedge, etc. Much more than simple narration.

Aegon is attempting to do this without a sufficient command of the language. He knows some vocabulary, he knows some grammar, but he simply did not put in the work to actually speak this language. Thus, he has to overcome a lot of Common Tongue (i.e. English) interference.

There are many differences between Valyrian and English, but the biggest one by far is the major word order. In English, the verbs come before the rest of the junk; in Valyrian, they come at the end. And this is how things get all messed up.

In English, you start the sentence saying things like "I think" or "We should" or "It seems". In Valyrian, those things come at the end. If you start with the Valyrian equivalent of "I think", you will quickly realize (presuming you know enough of the grammar) that you're sunk, because once you've said it, the sentence should be done. Thus you get Aegon's false starts.

Starting at the beginning, Aegon says Nyke koston, which is kind of like saying, "I could". But there's nowhere to go. This is how a sentence ends. For example, if he wanted to say, "I could fly to Harrenhal", he would say Harenhalot sōvegon koston—literally "To Harrenhal fly I could". If you're thinking English-ly, you're essentially thinking backwards, and if you simply translate what you're thinking, you'll immediately have nowhere to go. You'll have to take a pause and think about how to get started again. And that's exactly what happens here.

Now, leaving aside that Valyrian is a pro-drop language and starting it off with nyke "I" is unnecessary and makes you look like a beginner, koston isn't bad (I mean, if used sentence-finally). Once he realizes he can't start there, though, he loses confidence. It's those old High Valyrian lessons all over again, and some maester suggesting he hasn't studied. That self-doubt makes his facility with Valyrian worse. This means his chances of recovery are severely hampered.

But onward he presses, and he decides to say "We have to" or "I have to". Now, the problem here is in Valyrian that requires the verb bēvilagon. This verb isn't used in the usual way. Literally it means "to lie on". If you wanted to say "We must mobilize our dragons", you'd say Īlvī zaldrīzī mazannagon īlo bēvilza. That's literally "Our dragons to mobilize us it lies upon". The one who must do something is placed in the genitive and put directly before the verb. If you start with the verb, well, you missed your chance to say who it is that must be doing something—let alone what they must do. Another false start.

It's also worth noting that he says bēvilus as opposed to bēvilza. Let's ignore that it's the aorist and focus on the fact that it's the subjunctive (just like koston). You use the subjunctive with your main verb when you're hedging—when you're suggesting. Not when you're commanding. Kind of an odd thing to say "We must do this" with the subjunctive. Kind of like saying "Maybe we might considering having to do this".

At this point, his confidence has completely evaporated. Everybody's staring at him like he has no idea what he's talking about; Aemond's eating it up. He knows he's cooked. He's got to say something, though, so he says sētegon which isn't even conjugated. It means "to make" or "to create", which might make sense in English (e.g. "to make war"), but doesn't make sense in Valyrian (a bit like saying "to construct a war" or even "to bake a war") and then tries to pronounce vīlībāzmi "war" (wrong case/number, wrong order) and fails, saying bīlīvāzmi, which means nothing (also he wanted vīlībāzme. Vīlībāzmi is "wars").

Long story short, he doesn't present himself very well—and we didn't even talk about his general pronunciation or intonation. It's kind of a great big mess in only five words. A true disaster.

But if there were no expectation that he should be able to speak Valyrian, none of this would matter! If there were no shame associated with him specifically not being able to speak Valyrian no one would expect it of him, and this challenge would mean as little as someone challenging him to speak the Old Tongue or Asshai'i. It'd be meaningless.

In short, this small portion of this scene is about being a heritage speaker of a language. It's the exact nightmare scenario all heritage speakers fear: To be put on stage and made to perform despite being unequal to the task while simultaneously feeling that they should be equal to it.

It'd be so cool if it was okay to be kind of good with a language—if that level of mastery was acceptable. In the real world, anyway.

[ghelgheli]

i would actually like to hear more of your thoughts on whipping girl, whenever you feel ready enough to talk about it. i've only ever heard positive recommendations for it. i was thinking of reading it. i've read one or two introductory 101 texts on transmisogyny as well as some medium/substack posts, and always looking to read more as a tme person. ty!

thanks for asking! I'm gonna try to be concise because I'm stuck on my phone for the month, but here are my thoughts on whipping girl:

serano is at her strongest in the book in three areas: manifestations of transmisogyny in media (e.g. how trans caricatures pervade movies), the history of medical institutions developing a pathology of transsexuality (like the diagnostics of blanchard et al. or how trans people seeking healthcare were and continue to be forced into acting out prescribed expressions and manufacturing memories), and the construction of her own transition narrative (telling the reader what it was like for her to grow up desiring femininity in a way that confused her, the experience of crossdressing, the effects of hrt for her)

whenever she's just sticking to this, I think she effectively communicates a lot that the unaware reader could benefit from—even many trans women/transfems/tma people who are otherwise in tune with the history of medicalized transsexualism and our popular depictions could probably benefit from her own personal narrative, by nature of how variegated our experiences can be.

unfortunately I think the book fails at its primary—stated—goal, which is to theorize about transmisogyny. in the big picture this is a bifurcated failure:

on one branch of her argument, she remains committed to there being something biologically essential/innate about gender. this manifests thru multiple claims: that we have "innate inclinations" toward masculinity/femininity and "subconscious sex" rather than what I believe, which is that the latter are constructed categories imposed on different matrices of behaviour/expression/desire in different cultural contexts; that there is "definitely a biological component to gender" (close paraphrase) after a discussion of how she believes E and T tend to affect people (thus equivocating gender with dominant hormones!); that we have such a thing as "physical sex" which is the composition of our culturally decided "sex characteristics" (don't ask me how the dividing line is drawn) even as she says we should stop using "biological sex" as a term; that there is "no harm" in agreeing that "sex" is largely bimodal with some exceptions; that social constructionism is necessarily erasure of transsexual experiences in early childhood... altogether she is unwilling to relinquish arguments about the partial "innateness" of femininity/masculinity and gender. this is at tension with her admission on several occasions that these are neither culturally/geographically nor temporally stable concepts! but that doesn't seem to be a line she can follow thru on.

on another, intertwining branch, she engages in what I think is a deep and widespread mistake in the theorizing of transmisogyny: reducing it (mechanistically) to what she calls effemimania* or essentially anti-femininity. it is her stated thesis at the start that masculinity is universally preferred to femininity. she doesn't offer a definition of either term until one of the final chapters, where she defines them as the behaviours and expressions associated with a particular gender. but I think this reduction just misunderstands transmisogyny. it is even in tension with an observation she makes early on, that trans women are often punished for their perceived masculinity! but again, this is a thought she seems unable or unwilling to follow thru with.

my problem with the thesis is that masculinity and femininity do not float free of gender—it is not possible to speak of their valuation in the abstract. anyone who grew up as a masculine cis girl and never "grew out" of that "phase" can attest to the violence wrought upon expressions of masculinity from women. and this applies doubly so to the subjects of transmisogyny! not only are we punished for any perceived bleed-through of masculinity from our supposed "underlying male selves", those of us who are willingly masculine and thriving as mascs are punished for our failure to conform to the rules of the normative womanhood that is imposed on us (just as we are punished for any willing femininity as "false" and predatory upon cis womanhood—observe that transmisogyny is reactive degendering in every case!).

on both branches serano makes only perfunctory remarks about the intersections with race, class, and colonialism. "sex" as such was made to only be accessible to the "civilized", most of all the white european! for a racialized person and particularly a Black person navigating gender the waters are just not the same; the signifiers of sex neither available in the same way, nor granted the same medical legitimacy. what is the "physical sex" of someone who is de-sexed altogether? how can gender have a "biologically innate" component when its expressions between the bourgeoisie and the working class are at total odds with one another? this all goes for the masculine/feminine distinctions as well. what sense is there in the claim that we have innately masculine/feminine inclinations when globally (and transmisogyny has been made global!) what is feminine and masculine can be very nearly mirrored? nor is "masculinity is always considered superior to femininity" innocent of obviating race. transmisogynoir adds yet further degendering thru the coercive masculinization of someone as a Black woman—masculinization as punishment, again!

and as a final point, the account fails to be materialist. there is no attempt to place transmisogyny in its role as an instrument of political economy or, as jules gill-peterson might say, as a tool of statecraft. it is just a psychological response to the way the world is, as far as serano has anything to say about it. but how did the world become that way, and why?? serano's solution, the abolition of what she calls gender entitlement, is naive to the fact that gender entitlement is necessary to the maintenance of the capitalist state, which is structured thru patriarchy and built on colonialism. it is not possible to reskin this into something innocuous!

this is why I cannot recommend whipping girl as a work about transmisogyny except at the most shallow level. it could be a helpful critical read, but imo, it is just wrong about transmisogyny.