#hey guys what's it like to write simple fics
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thedenerts · 2 days ago
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love isn't red ; it's blue
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Hi! This is my first fic on Logan Howlett. Not very good with english but i hope you guys would enjoy reading and if you want to see more please, do ask me ! ^^
dofp LOGAN X FEM!READER
tags: MDNI 18+, bad parenting, fingering, logan and reader are married, reader is in their 30s
word count: 1445
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notes; if there's any bad english grammar, i mind you that english is NOT my first language
The night came by too quickly; Logan washed what was left off the little dishes by the sink. He watched as you and Hera (your first born daughter) talking on the patio. He stared at the mother of 2 who hasn’t aged a day since they had met. Your hair wild as a gyspsy’s, and body clothed in a simple shirt dress. You looked over your shoulder and smiled; Logan’s heart skipped a beat. You, yourself don’t even know what you had done to him after all these years. Logan felt his pants tighten at the sight of your black and silver lace bra through the white material. His thought process was broken by a loud grunt behind him, his hazel eyes met Hank’s. Hank had a smirk across his blue furry coat ass face (i intended to write down like this).
“Been awhile huh?” Hank asked, catching Logan’s sexual tension. Logan rubbed his face with his wet hands, turning away from his hairy blue friend. He grabbed the beer Hank offered, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, Mateo, he's definitely my son, alright...but damn," he grunted, taking a sip. "Every time Y/N and I try to get a moment alone, that kid senses it and wakes his little ass up." He slammed his palm on the counter, frustration evident. “Tonight, I’ma put some beer in his milk and keep him asleep all night long" Logan grinned at himself while Hank laughed at his friend’s irritation.
Logan's ears perked up as he heard Hera's yawn and Mateo getting fussy, signalling bedtime. Hank, noticing the situation, slapped Logan's back and exited the kitchen, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. You were pulled by Hera, who forcefully tugged on your arm while cradling Mateo in the other. Before you could reach the stairs with Hera, Logan stops you by standing in front. “What’s the matter, Lo?” You asked with a soft chuckled “Oh, nothing, I was wondering if I could take over and handle that little monster of ours while you’re off to shower huh?” Logan replied as he picked up Mateo up away from your arm and cradles him in his. You raised a brow at him, feeling a bit sceptical but took the chances as you continue to make your way up with Hera.
Logan waved you a goodnight then looks down at his son’s drooling face. “Hey there bub, I’m not gonna let you ruin me and your momma’s time tonight. Not on my watch.” He cooed at the now smiling baby who was playing with Logan’s mutton chaffs. His tiny hands playing with Logan’s facial hair is almost too adorable to handle as Logan makes his way back into the kitchen. Unscrewing off the cap of the baby bottle, Logan put a few drops of diluted beer into Mateo’s milk and fed him up. He looks up at the time and noticed that it was almost nine p.m. Cradling Mateo in his arms while feeding him the diluted milk, Logan makes his way to Mateo’s room and gently sets him down in his crib. Letting the bottle beside him in case if Mateo gets cranky again.
Hurriedly, Logan makes his way to the master bedroom where you both shared. Hera, who was already sleeping in her other room, unbothered with what noise that will be occurring next. Logan enters the bedroom and waits anxiously as he sat down at the edge of the bed. His eyes clouded over with lust and deep desires when he saw you in a black almost see through that night shirt of yours. He whistles lowly when you smiled at him through your reflection, he approached his temptress nice and slow, hands on your hips before roaming that sweet sweet curve body of yours. Logan brought up his hand behind your head before placing kisses on your lips then to your shoulders while his other hand on your hips, pulling closer to his body. Your breath hitches, your (insert your hair colour) sprawled across his back as you threw you head back, allowing him more access. You felt a burning sensation in your lower belly.
Logan growled lowly, moving the both of you towards a large California king black oak bed. He laid you onto the red sheets, adoring your body with more kisses and soft touches. He spread your legs wide apart and settled in between them. “I missed this
I missed you, darlin’” He groaned with his eyes looking down at you with pure desire, pulling away your panties down and throwing aside as his hands now reaching your now wet sex; you moaned softly. Logan smirked at the sight of you arching your head back telling him that you wanted more. You rolled your eyes at the back of your head as Logan inserted two of his fingers into your wet sex. Your fingers intertwined within the silk sheets of the bed. Logan tries his best to restrain himself as best he could, but as he caught sight of your body begging for more
he withdrew his fingers out, removing off his clothes and pants and threw it aside.
You panted heavily, trying your best to lift your head up, eyes looking down to where Logan's shaft comes out leaking with pre-cum. Logan positions himself between your now spread legs, he looks down at you on the bed, biting his lower lip slightly, his heart racing as he smirks. Seeing you all flustered and panting to his magic touch
makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “It’s your fault, you know
looking all mighty fine under that night dress of yours, darlin’”. His hand gripping on your hip, tightening while the other bracing against the bed. His voice, rough and ragged as he plunged into you. With that; you let out a strangled moan, your hips slightly raised by Logan’s thrusts. His hand that was bracing against the bed slides under your night dress, then bra and removing it so that his only restrictions is your beautiful body.
As soon as they were on the floor beside his clothes, Logan then returned one hand back to your moist area and the other on your breasts. You moan even louder than before almost begging for more. “You like that, honey? Huh? You like how I’m gonna fill you up real nice and good?” He continues to pound you harder than before, his voice coming out with heavy grunts and moans; You clutched onto his arms as Logan groaned, filling you up. Logan moves with such pace in and out, building up your moans until they were his name. “Please
Lo
I’m gonna come
” you moaned loudly, arching your back causing you to cry out with pleasure. Logan’s primal instinct kicked as he could feel you tightening around him; “Fuck
darlin’! You’re so tight” he said. Your body turning into deep red blush from cheeks to hips. You couldn’t think or said anything except moans and cries from his thrust; hitting your spot every time. You met his already deep thrusts with your hips moving down as he went up.
Logan growled, grabbing your hips and kissing you roughly as your climax hits hard. You came undone on his thick throbbing cock, sweat dripping from both of you but Logan
 he wasn’t done. Instead. He withdrew and lifted you on your hands and knees. You didn’t have time to react, so without second to waste, he re-entered. You threw your head back as your body taking every inch of him. Pushing your bottom closer, Logan took your submission and grab ahold of your hips once more; thrusting at full speed. You feel another climax coming quickly. Logan’s hands moved up to your spine, stroking as he finally released his hot seed into you as you let yourself go for a second time. Logan moaned deeply and flops down on top of you before rolling to the other side of the bed. Logan, his arms wraps around you, holding you close against his chest, feeling your body nuzzling into his, his own strength beginning to return. He rests his chin on the top of your head, his breath still uneven, his heart pounding in his chest. "You okay, darlin’? I didn't hurt you, did I?" You shake your head then smiled, laying your head on his chest with your finger playing on his chest.
Both you and Logan laughed before Mateo stirs awake, crying for attention. Logan groans, rolling his eyes. “Well, I guess someone’s awake. Better go check him out” You chuckled softly at him and nodded.
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not-neverland06 · 2 months ago
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Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao
I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?
Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.
I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x
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a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.
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“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”
You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”
Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”
Oh. My. God!
You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 
Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”
He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 
Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 
But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”
You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 
The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 
The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 
None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 
You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 
You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!
Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 
The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”
It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 
You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 
Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 
“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 
Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 
“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 
There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”
You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 
Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 
But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”
“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 
She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”
She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 
You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 
“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 
You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 
Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 
Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 
You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 
You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 
You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 
You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 
But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 
It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 
Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 
He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 
Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 
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When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 
You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”
Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 
The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 
Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 
She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 
She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”
The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 
You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”
Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”
You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 
“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”
“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 
Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 
“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”
She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”
“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 
Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 
So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.
Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 
“What’re you doing?”
You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 
He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 
“I think that’d be best.”
He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 
You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 
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What the fuck?
It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 
He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 
Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 
And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 
He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 
He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 
He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 
Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 
Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 
Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 
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You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 
But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 
You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 
You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 
You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 
“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”
It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?
Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 
“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 
“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 
But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 
Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”
If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.
“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 
He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 
“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 
The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”
He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”
You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 
Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”
“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 
Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 
“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”
He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 
It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”
“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 
The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 
You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 
You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 
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You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 
You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 
You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 
Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 
It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 
It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 
“Has he made much progress yet?”
Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 
His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 
That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 
He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 
You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 
“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”
You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”
“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 
There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 
You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”
Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 
“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 
He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 
He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 
Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”
Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”
She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”
As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 
You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 
You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 
You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 
You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”
Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”
You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”
He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”
His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 
“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”
You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”
“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 
“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 
His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 
You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 
“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 
“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 
It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 
You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 
That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 
You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 
Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 
You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”
You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”
He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”
You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 
He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 
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a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist:ïżœïżœ @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  
@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 
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saythenametotheworld · 1 month ago
Text
Take a Chance With Me | j.ww (18+)
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You could not believe that no one ever told you how frustrating (and beautiful) it was to be hopelessly captivated by a boy who thinks love is overrated.
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader Warnings: fluff fluff, she fell first he fell harder kinda slow burn lol, mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 25k words. Part 3 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Take a Chance with Me by NIKI. Longer fic because writing this was my coping mechanism for the devastating tragedy that was Backburner. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: Take a Chance with Me by NIKI, Forces by Japanese Wallpaper, I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift, Taglist: @katfaceu @mansaaay @scoupsjin @iarayara @gaslysainz @silvermist002 @ssmebody @alyssa19123456
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Jeon Wonwoo’s story began one hot evening, just two weeks into your senior year of college. It was at a party—one where you’d arrived late after a supposedly quick pre-game session with your girlfriends at Lea’s apartment turned into a full-on mini-party on its own. You’d almost ditched the party altogether, but Mina said she had to meet this guy at the party, or she’d regret it forever. Of course, she was exaggerating at the time, but you went anyway.
You were the designated driver since you were the only one who didn’t drink, which was because you were late even to the pre-game. Some things just never change, and being late is one of your many talents.
As soon as you pulled up to the driveway of the party venue, your friends rushed out of the car and into the house, leaving you behind to park. Just as you were stepping out of your car, you spotted Wonwoo—tall standing next to the lamppost, and handsome under the yellow-orange glow of the light. He was attractive—the slight flush on his cheeks, his skin glowing under the lamplight, and even in simple square glasses and a plain white tee, he radiated a quiet confidence that made you pause.
He was cute. And he was heading toward you.
Why though? Did he want to talk to you? Maybe get your number? Oh my god. What are you gonna do?
You stood frozen, heart pounding in your chest as Wonwoo closed the gap between you. Sure, he wasn’t the first guy to ever approach you, but he was cute, and it was ridiculous how fast you were crushing on him.
He’s coming, you told yourself, glancing around casually, trying not to look too eager. But just as he was about three steps away—bam! He hit the ground, limbs sprawled out in every direction.
You gasped, rushing over. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
He groaned, kicked at the offending rock that had tripped him, and then dramatically flopped onto the grass as if it had betrayed him too.
You crouched beside him, waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey, you alright?”
Wonwoo blinked up at the sky, glaring like the stars were personally out to get him. Then, locking his glassy eyes on yours, he said, “Hi. My asshole friends abandoned me here.” He hiccupped. “I’m kinda drunk and you’re kinda gorgeous. Would you be so kind to help me out?”
Caught off guard by his random compliment, you chuckled. “Here, let me help you up,” you said, tugging his arm, trying to haul him back to a sitting position. “You can walk, right? You were walking just now.”
“Walking’s overrated,” he muttered, but with your help, he managed to get back on his feet, wobbling slightly.
You told him your name. “What’s yours? Where do you live? Do you need a ride?”
He opened his mouth to speak but someone suddenly appeared beside him, patting his chest. It was Hoshi. “There you are, Wonwoo. We’ve been looking all over for you!” 
“Hosh! You know this guy?” you asked.
“Look,” Wonwoo said, turning to you and pointing a very unsteady finger at his friend. “See that? Fake friend. Never trust people who abandon you.”
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who wandered off!”
Wonwoo smirked, leaning in as if sharing a deep truth. “People who gaslight you aren’t your friends. Don’t forget that.”
“I can’t believe I ditched my girl for this. Okay, that's enough from you.” Hoshi slung Wonwoo’s arm over his shoulder. “Where’s that idiot Jun? Junhui!”
A second later, a man came jogging toward you. “Found him?”
“Yeah, help me get him out of here,” Hoshi said, struggling to hold up Wonwoo’s weight.
Jun smiled apologetically at you as they shifted Wonwoo’s arm off your shoulder. “He seems like a handful, but he’s nice sometimes.”
You stepped back, watching them as they wrangled him toward a black pickup truck. “He doesn’t seem that drunk, though.”
Jun chuckled. “You’d be surprised. One time he got wasted and started working on a coding project. Finished the whole thing in one sitting.”
“Didn’t even remember it the next day,” Hoshi added, making a mock exploding gesture at his temple.
You couldn’t help laughing, finding it both amusing and adorable that a fine man like him would have such drinking habits.
“Anyway, thanks again,” Hoshi said, flashing you a quick grin as they started loading Wonwoo into the truck.
“Bye, gorgeous lady!” Wonwoo called from the back seat, waving weakly. “I love you!”
Jun scoffed. “You don’t even know her name.”
“Who cares what you think, Jun? You’re a fake friend!”
You couldn’t help but laugh again, waving them off as the truck pulled away. Standing there, you found yourself thinking about Wonwoo—strangely intrigued by this cute, clumsy guy. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you heard Lea’s voice calling your name from inside the house.
“Why are you out here alone? Let’s go!”
You skipped toward her, linking arms as she pulled you inside. “I just met the cutest guy ever.”
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If Seungcheol’s face wasn’t the first thing you saw as you stepped into the pool pavilion, you wouldn’t have recognized him at all. His neat blue suit from yesterday had been swapped for something far more relaxed—crisp white pants and a cream button-up that made him look more
 approachable. He greeted you the moment you arrived, gesturing to the lounge chair beside his.
“I ordered cocktails,” he said, motioning to the bellinis on the table. “But I took liberties since I didn’t know what you like.”
“You didn’t have to include me, but thanks,” you smiled, taking one of the flutes.
Seungcheol watched you take your first sip before saying, “So, what depressing tale would you be telling me today?”
You coughed, choking very slightly on your drink. “You said you wouldn’t judge.”
He shrugged, leaning back on the chair and fixing his eyes at the infinity pool. “I wasn’t judging. My expectations are based on past experiences. In this case, the experience was yesterday’s story. It was quite heavy.”
“Exactly,” you nodded, setting your glass down. “Yesterday was intense, so I’m dialing it down today with a lighter story about my favorite ex.”
“You have a favorite ex?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “But that’s not the point. Do you wanna  hear it or not?”
Seungcheol nodded. “Please. Proceed.”
“Alright.” You took a sip of your drink before starting. “His name is Jeon Wonwoo.”
THE DAY after you'd first met him at that party, you’d prioritized looking for Wonwoo. Living in the on-campus dorms gave you time to walk around the campus before your class. The problem was, you didn’t know where to start. Your friends could swear they were sick of you, gushing about him and retelling the story of how he called you gorgeous and basically confessed his love for you in under five minutes of meeting each other.
“I know he was drunk, Jill. But people say you become more honest when you’re drunk,” you insisted, not even trying to hide your excitement as you scanned the cafeteria for any sign of him.
“What’s his name anyway?” Mina asked, scowling slightly as she watched you crane your neck, practically spinning in your seat. 
“Wonwoo. I don’t know his last name.”
Mina scoffed. “Wonwoo? Aren’t you like neighbors?”
You stopped mid-scan, turning to her with wide eyes. “We’re WHAT?”
As it turned out, Wonwoo lived in the on-campus dorm too. He and Hoshi were roommates, and you only knew this because, apparently, the guy Mina just had to meet at last night’s party was Hoshi. 
“You’re telling me I’ve been looking around campus for him like a lunatic when he’s been right under my nose this whole time?” you asked, clutching your pearls.
Jill snorted into her iced coffee. “You’ve been obsessed for, what? Twelve hours?”
“Thirteen,” you corrected. “But who’s counting?”
For a while, you tried catching glimpses of Wonwoo around your apartment complex. You even took slightly longer routes on campus, hoping to spot him by chance between classes or during meals. But every time, you came up empty—no sign of him at all.
“Just where does this hot specimen hide his gorgeous self?” you grumbled. “It’s been three days.”
Lea watched you with a glimmer in her eyes. “This is a first. You’ve had crushes before but never hyper-fixated on one until now.”
“Right? I was just thinking the same thing,” Jill affirmed.
“There’s no one like him,” you gushed, tilting your head dreamily. “I think he might be the one.”
Mina choked on her drink. “You’re not serious.”
You laughed, stroking her back gently. “Of course not. I’m just having fun, guys. Relax.”
“Anyway, why don’t you just ask Hoshi?” Jill suggested, sounding like the only sane one in the group. 
Oh. Right. Hoshi. Why didn’t you think of that earlier? You paused, considering the idea. It was practical. Sensible.
“Do you think that’s weird? Just asking out of nowhere?” you asked, biting your lip.
“You’re the one who’s been running around campus like a headless chicken,” Mina pointed out dryly. “Asking Hoshi would be a lot less weird than that.”
You smiled at Mina, batting your eyelashes prettily. “Ask him for me.”
Mina swatted your hand away when you tried to hold her. “We’re not talking right now. And no, I won’t tell you why.”
You grimaced. “Well, no one’s asking!”
Jill laughed. “Just go to Hoshi. You guys are friends. And it’s not like you’re asking for Wonwoo’s hand in marriage. You’re just curious.”
“Alright, alright,” you relented, standing up from the table. “I’ll ask Hoshi.”
Mina gave you a thumbs up as you left the cafeteria, heading out to start your quest. You just hoped your heart didn’t explode from the anticipation before you got there.
You spotted Hoshi in the dance room, drinking water after practice. Perfect. You strode over, determined but trying to keep it cool. He saw you coming and grinned, clearly already knowing what this was about.
“Well, well, well,” Hoshi said, putting his bottle down and crossing his arms with a smirk. “What brings you to my humble corner of campus today? Or should I say... who?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, stop. I just wanna ask you something.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re about to ask me where Wonwoo is, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ve seen this before. You’re already head over heels. It’s okay, it’s a common reaction.”
You tried to look annoyed, but your lips twitched, betraying you. “Fine. Yes. Where is he?”
Hoshi raised his eyebrows, looking overly impressed with himself. “See? I’m basically psychic. I should be charging for my services.”
“Just tell me!” You lightly shoved him.
“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “He’s usually holed up in the tech building, doing nerd stuff. You know, coding, hacking the mainframe, whatever those guys do.” He waved a hand in the air. “Oh, and I’m gonna tell you this only because you and I are tight—you’re gonna need to bring a snack. Wonwoo’s been known to forget to eat when he’s in the zone.”
You crossed your arms, half-joking but half-serious. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do I need to worry about him starving to death before I even get the chance to talk to him?”
“Maybe,” Hoshi said, eyes twinkling. “But hey, if he does, I’ll make sure his last words are something romantic. Like, ‘Tell her... she was... gorgeous.’”
“Oh my god, you’re impossible,” you groaned, turning to walk away, though you couldn’t help laughing.
He called after you, still grinning. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you! And hey—if you need a wingman, you know where to find me!”
Now you had a solid lead... and maybe a ridiculous wingman if things got really desperate. But most importantly, you had a plan: bump into him casually.
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You spent the next few days timing your trips past the IT building. At first, it felt silly—pretending like you were just ‘happening to walk by’—but today, your patience paid off. There he was, standing just outside the doors, tapping away on his phone. Your heart fluttered the second you saw Wonwoo, that same flush you remembered from the night before creeping up your neck.
You were about to walk over, but then a group of people spilled out from the building, laughing loudly as they passed by Wonwoo. You turned away, worried someone might recognize you. As soon as they were far enough, you spun back to see Wonwoo, only to find him gone.
You sighed. “Next time.”
The next time came—several next times, actually. You just couldn’t land the perfect opportunity! The universe was against you, you could swear with how each encounter was always interrupted by other people, unexpected circumstances, and now, even the weather!
You stared at the sky with a deadpan expression. “Really? Just tell me you don’t want me to shoot my shot with him, why don’t you?” you spoke to the sky, as if it would respond.
You were supposed to do your routine attempt at ‘bumping into Wonwoo’ but the rain started pouring right when you stepped out of your building. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t bring an umbrella with you. You sighed, scuffing your shoe against the pavement, debating whether to make a run for it or just wait it out.
“Maybe I’m just unlucky?” you muttered to yourself.
Staring at your feet, you noticed a new pair falling into step beside you. You looked up and gasped audibly upon seeing Jeon Wonwoo standing there with an umbrella in his hand. He looked as handsome as you remembered—neat appearance, well-kept hair, and his glasses that suited his face perfectly.
“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, making him glance at you.
He scanned you for a second. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I know you.”
You told him your name—clearly and in full. “We met at the party last Friday,” you smiled, hoping he’d remember.
“Oh, I met a lot of people that night.”
“You called me nice and gorgeous?” you offered, gouging a reaction from him, but so far—nothing. “And, uh, you also kinda said you love me.”
Wonwoo blinked, clearly taken aback. “Did I?” You saw the confusion in his expression, followed by a flicker of embarrassment. He looked away, his jaw tensing slightly. “Sorry, I don’t remember any of that,” he said, his voice softer, but there was no warmth in it. It felt more like a brush-off.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” you said, waving it off casually. “You were really drunk, so I guess it makes sense.” You grinned, hoping the playful tone might make the moment less embarrassing
He seemed like an entirely different person. He was fun that night, sweet even. Was that a one-off thing?
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the rain pounding on the concrete was oddly loud. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, not entirely sure if you should say something or just let it go.
“Well, then. I should go.”
You nodded. “Of course. It was nice seeing you.”
You watched him walk into the rain, dry and safe under his umbrella. You couldn’t help but scoff. If it was the Wonwoo you’d met that night, he would probably share his umbrella with you.
“What a bummer,” you muttered, looking down at your feet again as you kicked your tiptoes on the floor. 
You kept your gaze there, replaying the encounter with Wonwoo and how awful it made you feel. You barely noticed the car that pulled over in front of you until you heard someone call your full name.
When you looked up, you saw Wonwoo in a car with his window rolled down. He turned to reach for something behind him before extending his umbrella out to you. You stepped into the rain for a second to grab it and then backed away with a confused look on your face.
“Thank you,” you called out.
He just nodded, lips tight. “Leave it to the dorm lady when you’re done with it.”
“I will!” you replied, smiling at him.
As he drove away, you waved your hand in the air, your smile getting impossibly wider as you clutched his umbrella in one hand.
Just like that, your quest to make Jeon Wonwoo fall for you was on. You chased him around—well, not really, but you seized every chance to talk to him. First, you personally delivered his umbrella to his dorm, which surprised him because obviously, he wasn’t expecting it.
When you found him at the cafeteria that day, sitting alone at a table while working on something on his laptop, you walked over with your tray and casually slid into the seat across from him.
“You look like you could use some company. Lucky for you, I could use some too. Let’s accompany each other,” you beamed, and he looked up from his laptop briefly—just to see who you were.
“I’m working,” he said, reverting his attention to his work.
You leaned forward with a grin. “I can multi-task. Do you want me to be quiet while you work?”
“Do what you want,” he said, noncommittal.
That made you perk up. As long as he didn’t tell you to leave him alone, you were fine with being quiet. He was quiet too, but didn’t seem to mind your presence. So you stayed, eating your lunch while on your phone and occasionally sneaking glances at him.
One time, you find him at the library sitting at a table with his headphones in, immersed in whatever he was working on on his screen, again. You plopped down next to him, spreading your books out.
“It appears you might need some intellectual stimulation. I’m excellent company for that too,” you said.
Without looking away from his screen, Wonwoo said, “Pass.”
“Are you coding?” you asked, ignoring his refusal.
“I'm studying.”
“For what?” you asked, leaning back to take a peek at his screen. “You're reading a book on your laptop?”
“It's convenient.”
You grimaced. “I bet you don't know what books smell like.”
“No, and I don't really wanna know,” he said, facing you. “Now, can I have some peace and quiet?”
“Oh, of course. Sorry. I’ll just be over here being pretty and smart. Don’t mind me.”
He didn’t respond, just nodded slightly, continuing to work. You watched him for a bit, playfully resting your chin in your hand.
“Wow. My man is so cute and smart,” you muttered and Wonwoo suddenly glanced sideways at you.
You looked away immediately, opening a book, and burying your face in it. Wonwoo reached for it, taking it out of your hand and flipping it.
“It’s upside down,” he said before fixing his gaze on his screen again.
If it wasn’t for your prior commitment to your friends, you would probably stay in the library until he leaves. Half-heartedly, you packed away your books and got ready to leave. Wonwoo noticed you then but didn’t say anything.
You tapped on the table next to his laptop, making him take off his headphones and look at you inquiringly.
“I was thinking of watching a movie this weekend. You’re welcome to join me.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “I don’t watch movies.”
You shook your head disapprovingly. “Guess we’ll have to change that about you.”
“Good luck with that,” he replied, putting his headphones back on.
He didn’t seem put off by your forwardness, which was all that mattered to you because it didn’t seem like you were bothering him. You were resolved to continue what you were doing.
Another time, you saw him at the gym when you were there with your friends. He was lifting weights, and you confidently strode over, showing off your figure in your gym outfit. You casually leaned over the machine he was using.
“Wow, so you’re not just working out your brain, you work out your biceps too? Impressive,” you complimented.
“I come here to avoid conversations,” he deadpanned.
“You’re still talking to me, so you’re not really doing a great job,” you chuckled.
Wonwoo sighed, but again, he didn’t tell you to leave. He just continued what he was doing, and you watched for a minute, smirking. You were enjoying yourself, despite his lack of reactions.
“I’ll be over there if you need me,” you said, winking.
“Why would I need you?” he asked, resting his hands for a second.
You shrugged. “You never know when you might.”
As you walked away, your friends were waiting for you with playful smiles. Mina said, “Girl, is it just me or are you kinda embarrassing?”
You scrunched your nose cutely at her. “I am, kinda. But it’s okay. He’ll warm up to me soon.”
You kept ‘accidentally’ bumping into him at random spots—by the vending machine, dorm hallways, the library aisles, or even walking to class despite being in different buildings. 
Sometimes, you felt a little embarrassed, but you liked how fun it was to tease him and flirt with him, despite his aloof attitude. He was gonna break sooner or later, and whatever he decided to do when that happened, you were prepared to accept. You had projected about a dozen different scenarios of him confronting you, but the reality was far more unique.
“Look at us, fate keeps putting us together. Ever think the universe is trying to tell you something?” you told Wonwoo when you coincidentally (for real this time), ended up in the same college seminar together.
He stared at you. “The universe doesn’t work that way.”
Unfazed, you shrugged, opening your laptop. “Maybe not, but it’s more fun to believe it does.”
Wonwoo closed his laptop and turned his body slightly toward you. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. “Wasn’t it obvious? I made sure you’d get the message though.”
He was quiet for a while, staring at you with a blank expression. After about thirty seconds, he asked, “Why?”
You shrugged, keeping your smile. “Because I do. Hey, you confessed your love to me first!”
“When did I—” he stopped and then sighed. “I don’t even remember any of that.”
“It’s okay. I remember enough for the both of us,” you teased, tilting your head with an innocent smile.
Wonwoo seemed to realize arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He shook his head slowly, as if accepting defeat. “Do whatever you want, but I won’t take responsibility for your assumptions.”
“You’re not telling me to leave you alone?” you asked, raising your brows in genuine surprise.
He looked at you, baffled. “What?”
“You’re not telling me to leave you alone,” you repeated, this time more matter-of-factly. “So can I take that as a sign that I can keep following you around?”
Wonwoo grimaced, though it was more out of exasperation than irritation. “You’re not seriously going to follow me everywhere, are you?”
You grinned mischievously. “No, not really. But now that you mention it, maybe I should. What do you think?”
“Well then, leave—”
“Good afternoon, sir,” you exclaimed upon seeing the professor walk in.
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You lay sprawled on Lea’s bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, scowling. Next to you, Lea was perched on her stomach, typing away on her laptop.
“The guy’s a tough nut to crack,” you muttered, shaking your head in frustration. “Do you think
 maybe he’s just not interested?”
“I thought he made that pretty clear with how he keeps brushing you off?” Lea replied, not looking up from her screen.
You sat up with a sigh just as Mina and Jill strolled into the room. “He doesn’t really brush me off though,” you argued. “More like
 he lets me do whatever I want.”
“You guys talking about Wonwoo?” Mina asked and you nodded. “Hoshi is inviting him over for movie night. Apparently, he said ‘yes’.”
Your jaw dropped. “No way? He said he didn't like movies!”
Mina nodded, pulling out her phone and flashing you the screen. “I don't know the details. Hosh says he’s wingmanning you,” she added with a grin.
You squealed, grabbing Lea by the arm. “Quick! Lend me a cute dress. No! I should just go back to my dorm and get one!”
“It’s a pajama party,” Jill interrupted, sitting beside you with a bowl of ice cream in hand. “You’re supposed to wear pajamas.”
You paused, considering. “Yes, but... like, do you have a cute nightgown? Those count as pajamas too, right?”
“I do,” Jill said, shaking her head, “but I’m not lending it to you. You’ll just complain about being cold.”
You slumped back onto the bed dramatically, face-first. “Friendship is dead. It never existed.”
Lea gasped. “Jill! Not you eating ice cream on my bed!”
“Oops, sorry!” Jill mumbled, quickly getting off the bed.
You rose when you heard ice cream, following Jill off the bed and asking to share. Mina was watching you with a soft smile on her lips. Then she said, “You changed a lot, did you notice? Remember when you took a break from school when we were freshmen? You were so different back then.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, mouth full of ice cream. Jill answered for you. “That part of her life was her character development arc. It wouldn’t make sense to remind her of such a depressing time when she’s done a really good job getting over it a long time ago.” 
You shot her a pair of finger guns and winked, appreciating the save.
“You’re right,” Mina said, her expression softening as she came over to hug you. “I’m just so proud of you.”
Jill joined in the hug, and Lea followed soon after, sandwiching you in the middle.
Feeling warm and fuzzy, you leaned over and kissed Mina’s cheek, only for her to pull away, grimacing. “Ew, sticky lips,” she complained, wiping the smudge of ice cream from her face.
“Sorry,” you grinned, unapologetic.
The smell of popcorn filled the apartment as you rummaged through Lea’s closet, pulling out a cozy sweatshirt that still looked stylish enough for the movie night. “This will have to do,” you muttered, tugging it on over your pajamas.
Lea, now in a matching set of flannel, raised an eyebrow. “You really think Wonwoo’s gonna notice your outfit at a pajama party?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shrug. “But it’s better to be prepared.”
When you got back to the living room, the usual chaos of movie night was already in full swing. Hoshi and Jun were bickering over what movie to watch while Seokmin raided the snack stash.
Hoshi called out your name, waving you over with a mischievous grin. “Look who actually showed up.”
You froze mid-step. Wonwoo was sitting on the couch, casually leaning back with his arms folded across his chest, looking as aloof as ever. He was wearing pajamas, which was unexpected because you didn't think he'd be the type to engage in silly activities like this one, but he was cute nonetheless.
You blinked. “He’s real,” you whispered, eyes wide, and Mina stifled a laugh. To Hoshi, you said out loud, “Hosh, you’re my most favorite person in the world.”
Just as you were about to claim the spot next to Wonwoo, Jun swooped in and plopped down right where you were headed. Without thinking, you grabbed Jun by the arm. “Move!”
Jun blinked at you, laughing. “What’s going on?”
You picked up a throw pillow and hit Jun with it again and again until he moved out of your way.
“You’re ruthless,” Jun chuckled, shaking his head but laughing anyway. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” you winked at him before turning to Wonwoo. He watched the whole thing unfold with mild amusement, shaking his head as you settled in.
“Comfortable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Very,” you grinned, inching just a little closer to him. “Fancy seeing you here. I didn’t think you’d really show up. And in pajamas, no less,” you said, flashing him a wide grin.
Wonwoo glanced at his clothes briefly. “Hoshi insisted,” he said flatly.
“Well, I’m glad you came,” you said, batting your eyelashes in what you hoped was a cute way. “It’s not every day I get to sit next to my favorite person.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, unamused. “I thought Hoshi was your favorite.”
You pouted. “You’re no fun, you know that?”
“Wasn’t trying to be,” he replied, unbothered.
Determined to get some sort of reaction, you leaned closer, pretending to examine his face. “Do you always wear glasses?” you asked, feigning curiosity. “They make you look extra smart.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose, side-eyeing you. “I am extra smart.”
You giggled, undeterred. “I bet you’re super smart, Mr. IT Genius. You could probably hack into all our phones right now.”
Wonwoo didn’t seem fazed. “I’m not that smart. And hacking is illegal.”
“Well, that’s good. Otherwise, you’d see all the photos I took of you before,” you teased, leaning even closer so your shoulder brushed his. “For research purposes, of course.”
This time, Wonwoo did look at you, but only briefly. “Research for what?”
“Oh, just, you know,” you waved a hand vaguely, “studying the behavior of elusive, handsome introverts.”
“Sounds like a waste of time,” he replied dryly, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. You’d almost missed it if you weren’t staring right at him.
You grinned, feeling triumphant at his tiny show of amusement. “Did I just make you smile? Am I your source of happiness and joy now?”
“Just what is up with you?” he questioned, genuinely bewildered.
“I’m persistent. Haven’t you noticed?”
“I have.”
Before you could respond, Hoshi’s voice boomed across the room. “Movie’s starting, everyone! Grab your snacks, get cozy!”
The lights dimmed further, and the opening credits began to roll. You wiggled in your seat, purposely leaning just a little closer to Wonwoo, your head brushing against his arm. Wonwoo glanced at you but didn’t say anything, so you tilted your head playfully and whispered, “You’re not gonna move away, are you?”
He looked away, clearly unimpressed. “Why would I?”
“I don’t know
 because I’m annoying?”
“You are,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Hey!” You nudged him with your shoulder, a mock pout on your lips. “I’m charmingly annoying.”
“If you say so,” he replied.
Every now and then, you’d make little comments, trying to catch his attention. Wonwoo remained mostly unresponsive, only glancing at you occasionally, but he didn’t seem bothered either. In fact, the more you nudged him or commented, the more relaxed he seemed.
Finally, you ‘accidentally’ let your head rest on his shoulder. “Oops,” you whispered, eyes still fixed on the screen. “My bad.”
Wonwoo sighed, but to your surprise, he didn’t push you off. “You’re really pushing your luck tonight.”
You grinned up at him, batting your lashes. “What can I say? I like taking my chances.”
“Just watch the movie,” he muttered, but you could tell—he didn’t actually mind.
With a satisfied smile, you snuggled a little closer, content with your minor victory. 
After the movie, everyone stretched and yawned. Hoshi and Seokmin were already debating what to watch next, while Jill and Lea were dramatically complaining about the lackluster conclusion to the movie. You continued the night with laughter and conversations over light drinks. It was a school day, so no one was entertaining the idea of getting wasted.
You glanced at Wonwoo, who had stayed quiet throughout the night, except for a few quips here and there. You often flirted with him in between conversations, but as usual, he couldn’t even be bothered.
When the group started to pack up, you took a deep breath and turned to him. “Hey, do you wanna walk back to the dorms together?” you asked, keeping your tone light and hopeful.
You were the only ones going back to the dorms, since the rest of your friends lived off-campus, and Hoshi was obviously staying over at Mina’s.
Wonwoo stood up, gathering his things without making eye contact. “No, thanks,” he said simply, pulling his jacket over his shoulder. “I’ll head back on my own.”
Your heart sank a little, but you didn’t want to let it show. “Okay, sure,” you said quickly, trying to brush it off with a casual laugh. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway.”
He paused for a moment, adjusting his jacket before looking at you with a slight frown. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t need to follow me around.”
The words stung more than you expected, even though you’d been joking about it all night. You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, you just nodded, forcing a small smile. “Got it.”
Wonwoo gave a short nod, then turned and headed for the door without a second glance. As you watched him leave, the lightheartedness you’d felt earlier fizzled out. You knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel, but his rejection still hurt. You’d pushed and pushed all night, and for a moment, it felt like maybe he was warming up to you. But now, it seemed like you had been wrong all along.
Mina noticed your shift in mood and walked over. “Hey, you okay?”
You plastered on a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll head back now. See you guys tomorrow, okay?”
Your farewell was noisy, with your girls dramatically begging you to stay. There was a big smile on your lips when you exited the door, but as you headed back to your dorm, thoughts of Wonwoo’s words stayed with you. 
Maybe this little game of flirting wasn’t as fun for him as it was for you. Maybe you were pushing too hard. Maybe this was more one-sided than you wanted to admit. It had been fun for the most part, a lighthearted chase that kept your heart racing, but now it was starting to feel tiring—draining, even.
Your brows furrowed in frustration. “I should stop
” you muttered under your breath, kicking at a stray pebble in your path. Then, with a small pout, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Men ain’t shit,” you grumbled, though the bitterness in your voice didn’t quite match the half-hearted way you said it.
“Now, now, sweetheart,” said a greasy, slurred voice from behind you, giving you goosebumps all over. “You don’t really mean that, do you?”
How deeply distracted were you that you didn’t notice the dragged-out footsteps behind you? 
You tried to brush it off, but when the pace quickened and the slurred voice called out again, you got ready to run. Before you could, however, he grabbed your arm.
“Not so fast, sweetheart,” the man drawled, his breath reeking of alcohol as he eyed you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out here all alone?”
You shot him a sharp glance, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. “I’m not interested. Leave me alone,” you said, trying to swat his hand away but his grip tightened.
“I’m not so bad, am I? C’mon—just a little company,” he slurred.
You yanked your hand back, eyes narrowing as you tried to fight him off. “Let go!” you snapped, your voice rising in panic.
The man chuckled, tugging you toward him. “What’s the rush?”
With a rush of adrenaline, you elbowed him in the ribs and stomped on his foot with all the force you could muster. But despite your efforts, he was stronger, and your heart pounded as he forced you back against a wall, your breath catching in your throat.
Just as you started to fear you couldn’t fight him off, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Hey!”
Before you could process what was happening, Wonwoo appeared, eyes blazing with fury. He swung a solid punch, landing it squarely on the guy’s jaw. The man stumbled, dazed, before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.
You stared in shock, chest heaving, barely registering the fact that Wonwoo had just knocked the guy out. He reached for your hand, his grip firm but reassuring. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice calmer now, though still laced with urgency. “Before he gets back up. Come on.”
Grabbing his hand, you ran with him, your pajamas flapping awkwardly as the two of you bolted down the street. Imagine getting harassed in oversized Pucca pajamas? The ridiculousness of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so shaken.  
Your heart was still pounding, and you could feel Wonwoo’s hand tightening around yours as you rounded the corner, not stopping until you were safely back inside the campus walls.
When you finally slowed down, panting, you glanced at him. “You just—” you started, still breathless, “You punched him!”
Wonwoo looked at you, still catching his breath. “Yeah.”
The simple acknowledgment sent a strange warmth through you. You both stood there for a moment, the adrenaline fading. You were still catching your breath, trying to process everything that had just happened. 
“Thank you,” you breathed out. “You really saved me back there.”
“I think you would’ve done well by yourself even if I wasn’t there. You probably broke a rib or two with that elbow,” he quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Is that a joke?” you questioned, pointing at his lips. “Are laughing at your own joke?”
He looked at you, his expression shifting back to his usual. “I didn’t laugh. Next time, be more careful. Don’t walk by yourself at night.” His voice was steady, almost scolding, but there was an unmistakable note of concern in it. 
You blinked up at him, feeling your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the scare you just had. He had just knocked out a guy without breaking a sweat, and now he was here, telling you to be careful. You couldn’t help it—the admiration in your eyes must’ve been painfully obvious because you were falling even harder for him. 
Wonwoo noticed your dazed expression, the way your eyes lingered on him a little too long. His brow furrowed slightly before he sighed, clearly not amused by whatever was going through your head. Without saying a word, he took off his jacket and threw it over your face.
“Go back to your room,” he muttered, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. “And stop being weird.”
You pulled his jacket off your face, blinking up at him with a grin, but he was already turning away, clearly done with the situation.
“Hey! Wait for me! What if he comes back?” you called out, running to catch up to him.
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This wasn’t part of the plan. You were doing just fine on the sidelines of college life, navigating the highs and lows of being a student. You were content not drawing attention to yourself in places that didn’t need your presence, happily enjoying the fun college functions from a distance.
Why did you have to join the student council on a whim?
“I’m so sick of this,” you muttered, hauling a large box of banners back into the storage room. Someone else could do it if only there were other hands available to help. Frustrated, you kicked the box, only to recoil in pain when it slammed against your foot. “Ouch!”
“Move,” came a familiar voice from behind you. You glanced back just as Wonwoo pushed you aside, his movements smooth and efficient. With ease, he picked up the box and carried it to the storage room. You followed him, a wide smile creeping onto your lips.
“Thanks a lot,” you said, genuine gratitude lighting up your tone.
Wonwoo gave you a side-eye. “Next time, ask other people for help if you can’t do it by yourself.”
“There was no one to ask! Everyone’s busy with other stuff,” you defended, pouting at being scolded.
“You didn’t ask me.”
“You were busy too!”
“Then you should’ve waited until I was done.”
“What are you so mad about? I didn’t ask because you were busy, and you’re not even in the council to begin with. This isn’t your job.”
Wonwoo sighed, turning away. You followed him out, trying to keep up with his long strides. When he stopped, you halted too, glancing up at him. He stared at you for a moment, inspecting your appearance with an intensity that made your heart flutter.
“Are you checking me out?” you quipped, knowing how he’d react.
Wonwoo scoffed. “Are you heading back to the dorm now?” he asked, and you nodded. “Wait here,” he said before climbing up the sound box to fetch his backpack. When he came back down, he pulled out a jacket and handed it to you.
“Oh, I’m good. I have a jacket in my bag,” you chimed, dismissing it.
“Forget it, then,” he said, putting it away, but you stopped him.
“No! I’ll take it! Mine’s not warm enough,” you grinned. “Thank you!”
Wonwoo’s deadpan expression remained as he rolled his eyes. “Go get your things. We’re leaving.”
You blinked, confusion washing over you. “Huh? Are we leaving together?”
“We’re going the same way anyway. Might as well just go together,” he said, glancing away with a slight furrow in his brows. “You might get yourself in trouble again.”
“We’re on the campus, I don’t think anyone would try something like that here,” you stated, but you couldn’t help smiling. 
After what happened the other day, Wonwoo seemed to be warming up to you now. It felt good to know that he cared enough to walk home with you and ensure nothing happened again.
“If you don’t want to, suit yourself,” he said, turning his back.
“No, wait! Let’s go!”
You rushed back to where you’d left your things, bidding hurried goodbyes to your student council friends. When you returned, Wonwoo was still waiting for you. He sighed at the sight of your massive grin and started walking first, so you ran to catch up with him.
“Wait for me,” you called, giggling as you intertwined your fingers with his. He didn’t shake you off.
“Put the jacket on. It’s cold.”
“Oooh, Jeon Wonwoo,” you teased, peeking at his face. “Are you trying to get promoted to green flag?”
“I’m not a red flag,” he said monotonously.
“When did I say you were?”
“You kept implying it.”
You chuckled lightly. “You know, I heard that people who claim that they’re not a red flag tend to be
 well, a red flag.”
“Just wear the jacket. I don’t want to be responsible for you if you get hypothermia.”
You pouted, backing away to put on the jacket. As you did, you unlinked your fingers with his but Wonwoo chased after it, tightening his hold. “Let go. I need to put this on.”
“Huh?” he blurted, retracting his hand like he’d been electrified. His fingers slipped away too quickly, but the warmth lingered on your skin.
“Do you hate it that much?” you scoffed as you wore his jacket. It was warm and smelled like him. “And no one’s getting hypothermia in this weather. It’s not that cold.”
“Can’t we just walk quietly and pretend we don’t know each other?”
“No, we can’t,” you chimed, linking your arms with his. “It’s impossible because we look like a couple right now.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do,” you sang, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you strolled down the dimly lit pathway. You allowed yourself to savor the moment, your steps perfectly in sync with his, a warmth spreading in your chest as you walked together under the soft glow of the pathway lights.
The school festival was coming up, and you got to work with Wonwoo on the preparations—you as a student council member, and him with the IT Club. Your tasks were different, not overlapping at all but you were content just being in the same space with him. 
While Wonwoo worked with a clubmate on the sound systems, you were assigned to help with decorations and logistics. Despite your tasks not overlapping, you made a point to stroll by his area often, a smile lighting up your face whenever your eyes met. Wonwoo would only nod to acknowledge you, but each exchange was a little jolt of happiness for you.
The hours passed in a blur of laughter and hard work. You organized tables, hung streamers, and made sure everything was in its right place, all while stealing glances at Wonwoo and his team.
During a break, you found yourself near the sound booth, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. Wonwoo was adjusting a microphone, and you couldn’t help but watch. He looked effortlessly cool, his concentration making him even more attractive.
“Don’t just stand there, you’re making me nervous,” he teased when he noticed you staring.
You flushed, momentarily caught off guard. “Just appreciating the view!” you shot back with a grin.
“Right,” he deadpanned, shaking his head. “Just don’t break anything.”
“Oh please, I’m the master of decorations! No broken things here!” you replied with mock seriousness.
As the day wore on, the festival started to take shape, and your excitement grew. You loved this sense of unity, the way everyone worked together to bring a festival to remember. It was very tiring, wearing out your bodies with work and your minds with how much you kept brainstorming for the best ideas. But as the sun began to set, and the field was transformed into a magical scene with the glow of fairy lights, all your labor had been worth it.
“Looks great,” Wonwoo said, suddenly at your side.
You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “It does, doesn’t it? You guys did a great job too. The LED displays are cool.”
“We did what we do best. You guys at the student council worked harder, coming up with cool ideas and stuff,” he replied, giving you an appreciative nod.
Feeling a rush of warmth at his compliment, you could only smile. “Let’s just say we make a great team—each in our own way.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Some of the council guys were a bit pompous and bossy but, yeah, you’re right.”
You laughed at that, hitting his arm and letting your hand stay there. Wonwoo didn’t flinch, even flashing a small smile as you both stared at the fruit of your labor.
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The school festival was finally here, and the campus was alive with excitement. You could feel the energy in the air, the smell of food wafting from the stalls, and the cheerful sound of laughter and chatter. 
The day kicked off with a formal ceremony in the main courtyard—with the school band playing a march. Students and faculty gathered under a large banner that read Welcome to the 00 University Festival! You stood with your friends, cheering as the college president gave a short speech about the importance of community and collaboration.
“Let the festivities begin!” he concluded, and the crowd erupted into applause.
As the ceremony ended, you raced to the game booths that had been set up around the campus. Your friends challenged each other to various games—ring toss, balloon darts, and a giant inflatable obstacle course. The laughter was infectious, and you lost track of time as you tried your hand at each game, reveling in the thrill of friendly competition.
In between the fun, you made your way to the sound booth, where Wonwoo and Jihoon were busy setting up for the afternoon performances. 
“Snacks for the most hardworking people on the whole campus,” you called out, showing them the containers of food and drinks.
“Thanks a lot!” Jihoon said with a bright smile, taking a snack before returning to his controls. “You’re so thoughtful.”
Wonwoo, on the other hand, merely nodded, a small smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip from the drink you brought him.
“You guys are doing an amazing job! Can’t wait for the party tonight!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over.
“We’ll make sure it’s a good one,” Jihoon replied, his enthusiasm infectious.
“Are you kidding me? DJ Woozi is here. I know it’s gonna be a good one,” you chimed, pointing finger guns at Jihoon.
The latter couldn’t help grinning at your compliment. “You should come over more often! It’s not all boring work here.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll be here often. Gotta make sure you stay hydrated. You’ll need the energy to keep up with the crowd.”
Jihoon tilted his head slightly, unconvinced. “Pretty sure Wonwoo will appreciate it,” he chuckled, nudging Wonwoo’s arm.
You just smiled, winking at Wonwoo before you bid your goodbyes and promised them you’d be back. 
As the afternoon rolled in, the booths and games continued. You lost yourself in the fun, but each time you never forgot to stop by the sound booth, checking in on Wonwoo—and Jihoon because he happened to be there too.
“Want a break?” you asked during one of your visits. “You’ve been at it for hours!”
Wonwoo looked at you, the serious expression on his face softening slightly. “I’m good. Just need to make sure everything is perfect for tonight.”
You nodded, admiring his dedication. “Well, I brought more snacks,” you said, pulling out the waffles you got from one of the booths.
“Thanks,” Jihoon said, taking the bag with a grateful smile.
Soon, the day transitioned into the evening. Students gathered around the stage, and the sounds of music filled the campus. You joined your friends, dancing and enjoying the beats as Jihoon—moniker, Woozi got the crowd hyped.
You could see Wonwoo in the sound booth, focused on the music, and your heart swelled with admiration. Every now and then, you made your way back to him, offering him drinks or just sharing a quick laugh about something funny happening in the crowd.
“Having fun?” he asked during one of your visits, his gaze momentarily leaving the controls.
“Definitely! This is amazing!” you replied, breathless from dancing.
“Good. Just keep your distance from the speakers,” he said and you could see a playful glint in his eyes despite his deadpan expression.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to break anything,” you shot back, grinning.
The night continued to unfold, filled with dancing, laughter, and an electric atmosphere. Later, when the party wound down and the crowd began to disperse, the working group gathered again for a final clean-up.
“I can’t believe how well everything turned out,” you said, looking around at the remnants of the festival.
“Yeah, it was a success,” Jihoon replied, glancing at you. “Thanks for all your help today.”
“Of course! It was so much fun being part of it,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you.
The student council president clapped his hands together to grab everyone’s attention. “Before we call it a night, how about we plan a weekend escapade to celebrate our hard work? A little break after all this?”
Cheers erupted from the group, and you felt your heart race at the thought of spending more time with everyone, especially with Wonwoo.
“Good to know everyone’s up for it!” the president said, smiling. “For now, let us pack up what needs to be packed up, make sure not to miss anything, and then we can head to the after-party.”
You helped pack up the necessary stuff that could not wait until tomorrow. Luckily, the university had a cleaning personnel who would handle the rest, so your work was lighter. Afterward, the group dispersed, some resigning to their dorms to rest, and the others heading to the after-party at an off-campus frat house.
Your friends were waiting for you outside the dorm, and you all hurried off to the party. It was a big shift from the organized chaos of the festival to a more liberated vibe. The living room was packed with students, and the atmosphere was thick with the smell of alcohol, vape, and perfumes mixed with the faintest hint of sweat. Colorful lights dance across the walls, along with the bodies of partygoers moving along to the catchy music.
“Let’s grab some drinks!” Mina shouted over the music, and the group surged toward the makeshift bar set up in the corner. You followed, adrenaline coursing through you as you filled a cup with whatever was on offer.
With drinks in hand, you scanned the room, your eyes searching for a familiar face. And there he was—Wonwoo, standing in a corner, a drink in hand, watching the chaos unfold with an amused expression. His dark hair glimmered under the strobe lights, and he stood out in his plain white t-shirt.
Without hesitation, you weaved through the crowd, clutching your drink tightly. “Hey, you made it!” you said, trying to sound casual despite the excitement bubbling inside you.
“Not willingly,” he replied, taking a sip from his cup.
“Want to join the madness?” you asked, gesturing toward the dance floor, where a group of students swayed and grinded, lost in the music and alcohol.
“Pass,” he said, not even giving it a thought.
“I knew it, but why did I still ask?” you mumbled, chuckling over your cup.
Across the hall, you spotted Mina and Hoshi, getting touchy as they danced to the rhythm. You smiled at the sight of them, lifting your cup in greeting when Hoshi waved at you.
“They look so in love, it’s annoying,” you snorted, but your fond smile was anything but snarky.
“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Wonwoo commented, making you glance at him.
“You don’t see it?” you questioned, genuinely perplexed. “It’s so obvious. They can’t even get their hands off of each other.”
Wonwoo hummed, but he looked unconvinced. “It could be the alcohol, you know, making them hot and touchy
 and horny. You don’t need love to feel that way.”
You observed him for a while, trying to gouge what was in his mind but to no avail. You could tell though that he was a cynic. “You don’t believe in love, do you?”
“Love is overrated,” he said, sipping from his cup.
You just nodded, acknowledging his admittance and respecting his opinions. “Are you sure you should be drinking? You can’t handle your liquor.”
“Oh, this is plain soda,” he replied, showing you the contents of his red cup. “I’m not drinking. Can’t afford to make stupid mistakes.”
“Mistakes? Like calling some stranger gorgeous and confessing your love for them?” you quipped but there was a bit of snark in your tone.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
That dampened your mood. “Well, good luck then,” you said, bumping your cup gently against his. “Enjoy the party.”
As you turned to walk away, Wonwoo grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna go have some real fun. Dancing, drinking, maybe some games because I’m quite good at them,” you smiled, motioning to the chaos around you. “It’s a party after all.”
He released your arm and you couldn’t quite tell what expression he was wearing. “Have fun then.”
“Thanks. I will,” you said with a salute before disappearing into the crowd.
You didn’t see him around the house after that, neither did you try looking for him. You just enjoyed the night, trying to take him off of your mind and the nagging thought at the back of your mind that going after him would not result in anything but disappointment.
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Early Saturday morning, you gathered at the school plaza with other members of the festival working group. You were set to leave at 9 am, and despite the hangover from last night, you managed to make it there on time—not without a splitting headache that a handful of other members seemed to share.
“Alright?” asked Wonwoo, appearing beside you with a slight scowl as you pressed your fingers to your forehead, trying to ease the pounding pain.
“Hi!” you greeted him, smiling from ear to ear only to wince again. “Ouch. My head is killing me.”
“And whose fault is that?” Wonwoo smirked.
Before you could retort, Jihoon hopped over, a small plastic bag in hand filled with water and medicine. “Here. It’ll help with the hangover,” he offered, his expression earnest.
You groaned dramatically, pouting at him. “Thanks a lot, Jihoon. You’re a literal angel.”
Jihoon’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, the corners of his mouth twitching into a bashful smile. “That’s
 Well, it’s not much.”
“No, I mean it. You really are an angel. Your skin is so fair, it’s blinding,” you said, squinting playfully as if his glow was too bright to bear.
“Take the medicine if your head is hurting that much,” Wonwoo chided sternly on your other side, making you turn back to him.
“Oh, right,” you mumbled, opening the bag. You popped a pill in your mouth and fumbled with the bottle of water, struggling to twist the cap off. Just as Jihoon was about to help, Wonwoo snatched the bottle from your hand, effortlessly twisting it open. 
“Thanks,” you said, raising the bottle in appreciation. You mirrored the gesture to Jihoon, grinning widely. “Thanks, my angel.”
Soon, the rest of the group arrived, ready for the trip. Since the university didn’t sponsor this outing, you all had to pay for expenses and transportation. Some students had cars and agreed to carpool with those who didn’t.
Without giving it much thought, you headed straight to Wonwoo’s car, making yourself comfortable in the front seat like you belonged there.
He didn’t seem to mind, though he did ask, “Are you carpooling with me? I thought you were going in Jihoon’s car.”
“Oh, he didn’t invite me. We’re not that close,” you replied, buckling your seatbelt. “Besides, I’d rather ride you.”
You noticed his hand freeze mid-air, the awkward silence that followed stretching between you like a taut string.
“With you!” you said in a panic. “I meant to say, I’d rather ride with you.”
Wonwoo nodded with a blank expression. “Yeah. I know,” he said coolly.
You chuckled awkwardly, looking outside his window and mentally cursing yourself. When the other cars started driving away, you realized that Wonwoo still hadn’t turned on his engine.
“Are we waiting for someone?” you asked and he nodded.
“There he is,” he said, gesturing at Seokmin, who was rushing toward you with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
He yanked the backseat door open and hopped in immediately. “Wow. Thanks for not leaving me behind.ïżœïżœ
“You had three minutes left,” Wonwoo replied, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he finally fired up the engine and drove out of the campus.
The car ride was filled with laughter as Seokmin took charge of the music, blasting upbeat tracks that made it impossible not to move. He sang along, his voice rising above the catchy beats, and every now and then, he added exaggerated dance moves from the passenger seat, making you and Wonwoo laugh.
“Can you believe we actually survived the festival?” Seokmin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought we’d end up in a full-on food fight or something! Just imagine it—streamers flying, popcorn everywhere, total chaos!”
You chuckled, picturing the scene, however impossible it was. “Yeah, and we’d be the ones cleaning it up afterward.”
“Exactly! But it would’ve been legendary!” Seokmin insisted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Next time, I’m bringing a water balloon launcher. Who’s in?”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’d just end up hitting someone with that.”
“Details, details!” Seokmin waved off the concern. “It doesn’t matter as long as you had fun and made lots of memories.”
He stopped and gasped quietly as he watched you extend the iced coffee toward Wonwoo so he could take a sip. You noticed him only when Wonwoo had taken a sip and you’d placed the coffee back in the cup holder.
“What?” you asked.
“Why don’t you guys just kiss in front of me?”
Wonwoo scowled, glancing briefly at his friend. “Why would we do that?”
“Right?” you blurted, snorting. “Didn’t know you were kinky like that, Seokmin.”
Seokmin leaned back in his seat. “You guys. You know that’s not what I mean.”
You felt your cheeks heat up. “I was just being nice, okay?”
“Right, just being nice,” Seokmin teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “But I mean, he didn’t look like he was complaining. When did he stop complaining about you invading his space?”
“Oh, he’s never complained to me before,” you replied, you didn’t even need to think about it.
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “He did not?”
“Not that I remember,” you said, peering at him in the backseat. “And I remember every single interaction we had,” you added with a proud smile.
“But he doesn’t like it when people are in his space,” said Seokmin, pointing at Wonwoo with a surprised expression. “He hates it.”
You shot a glance at Wonwoo, who kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. “Enough, Seokmin. You’re gonna make her think I’m enjoying this.”
“Aren’t you?” he shot back with a grin. “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute girl following him around, giving him drinks and all that?”
“Exactly!” you exclaimed. “Look at me! 1-800-hot-n-fun.”
Seokmin leaned between your seats, pointing a finger gun at your temple. “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re under arrest for being 10 out of 10 and 2 hot 2 handle.”
You and Seokmin burst out laughing, and even Wonwoo couldn’t hide his grin.
“Settle down, or I'll kick you two out of the car,” Wonwoo chided.
“Is it strange that I’m more invested in your relationship than you are?” Seokmin asked after a moment’s pause.
You shushed him. “Shut up. No one is more invested in our relationship than I am!”
As the miles rolled by, the countryside unfolded around you, with fields of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Just as you were nearing the location, you had to stop at a gasoline station because Seokmin needed to use the restroom.
“How about you?” he asked, just as Seokmin had left the car.
“No, I’m good,” you replied, glancing at him and found him scrolling through his phone. He just hummed, eyes fixed on his screen.
You took in his features—handsome, of course, with that natural air of confidence he always seemed to carry. His jawline gave him an angular, sharp look, yet there was something almost delicate in the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or the way his lashes fell gently against his skin when he blinked.
Your gaze fell to his lips—symmetrical with a defined cupid’s bow and subtle but natural fullness. There was that ever-present slight curve. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it always seemed like it was on the verge of one, and it made you wonder what it’d take to coax a real one out of him.
“You know,” you said, voice dripping with playful mischief, “you have really pretty lips.”
Wonwoo paused, blinking as if processing your comment. His eyes flicked to your mouth, and for a second, the silence between you seemed to thicken. But then he shifted his gaze back to the road, brushing off your words like it was nothing. “Thanks,” he replied, as nonchalant as ever.
At the back of your mind, you wonder if it was as soft as it appeared to be.
“Can you tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue?” you asked again, leaning a little closer with an innocent smile on your lips. 
You knew exactly what you were doing—the teasing tone, the loaded question. It was playful, sultry, but in a way that you could brush off if he didn’t bite. You fully expected his usual indifferent response.
Then again, there was the possibility that maybe he’d pick up your hints this time, and maybe he’d do something about the tension that was building up between you right at this moment. Maybe—
“I don’t think anyone can,” he answered flatly, the corner of his mouth barely twitching.
You threw your hands up dramatically. “Oh my god. What was I expecting?” you groaned, looking away.
Wonwoo remained quiet, so you glanced back at him. You met his eyes, dark with an intensity that you hadn’t seen before. His jaw was clenched tightly, and somehow it felt as though you had done something wrong.
“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
He didn’t say anything. He just unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned towards you. Before you could react, he was already cupping the back of your head and crashing his lips into yours.
You were momentarily stunned, grappling with the sensation of his lips pressing against yours. He tightened his grip on your head, tilting it just right, allowing him to kiss you more deeply. It was firm, yet slow, like he’d been thinking about it for much longer than you’d realized. You closed your eyes as you melted into him, kissing him back with a rhythm that made your skin prickle with the warmth that was slowly creeping into your chest. Your heart raced in its cage—so wildly that you swore Wonwoo could feel it echoing in his own.
When he finally pulled back, his expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of triumph in his eyes.
“So?” His voice was low, teasing. “Can I?”
You blinked, still a little dazed. “Huh?”
He smirked, the smug confidence catching you off guard. “Can I tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue?”
Your mouth fell open in disbelief before you burst out laughing, the tension between you now crackling in the air. “Y-yeah,” you stammered, the flustered grin spreading across your face. “Absolutely. You’re amazing. Basically a pro. Heh.”
Luckily, Seokmin arrived before the mood could get any more awkward. He did notice the shift between you, but when he asked about it, you just brushed it off. Deep inside, you were reeling in the bliss of kissing Wonwoo—wait, no—of being kissed by Wonwoo.
You soon arrived at the villa, its warm stone exterior blending beautifully with the surrounding trees. There was a welcoming warmth to it, and you hoped it was as comfortable as it looked.
“Wow, this place is massive,” Seokmin commented dramatically as he stepped out of the car, looking up at the villa as if it were a five-star resort.
Just then, a girl with beautiful long hair and a bright smile appeared on the porch. “Hey, guys! You made it!” she called out, waving enthusiastically. 
“Claire?” Seokmin blurted, evidently surprised.
“Seokmin!” she squealed, running to him for a quick hug.
You noticed Wonwoo stiffen slightly at the sight of her, his expression shifting as he watched the reunion. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, but Claire seemed blissfully unaware.
“What are you doing here?” Seokmin asked, backing away with a neutral expression.
The student council president came out before Claire could respond. “You’ve arrived! Good. Good. Have you met Claire?” he said, smiling at Claire. “Claire here was kind enough to offer their family villa, so this is going to be our home for the weekend.”
“Oh, I know these guys. We go way back,” said Claire, referring to Seokmin and Wonwoo.
Prez introduced you to her and Claire’s smile widened as she extended her hand to you. “Nice to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you too!” you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. You were still processing the sudden tension in the air, especially from Wonwoo.
“Come on in! The others are waiting.”
As the president guided you inside, you watched as Claire held Wonwoo by the arm and walked ahead of you. You felt a sudden surge of annoyance at her, clearly out of jealousy.
Seokmin leaned in to whisper in your ear. “That’s Wonwoo’s ex.”
The revelation hung in the air as you watched them. Wonwoo’s expression was blank, while Claire remained upbeat.
As you stepped further inside the villa, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this weekend was going to be more complicated than you had anticipated.
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The first order of business in the villa was dinner. After arriving early, everyone gathered around for snacks and chatted, but by dinner time, the group split into two—those helping in the kitchen and those exploring the villa.
You hadn’t planned on helping out in the kitchen, but when you noticed only a few had volunteered, you reluctantly joined in. A mistake, you realized, as your eyes drifted to the living room where Wonwoo sat with Claire beside him. She looked far too comfortable, leaning in close as they talked, her laughter ringing out over the murmur of conversations. Your chest tightened at the sight, the feeling of irritation and insecurity creeping up on you. 
It’s fine. He’s allowed to have a past, you told yourself, gripping the knife a little tighter as you sliced through a watermelon. But does she have to sit so close? Exes shouldn’t be too nice to each other. And does she have to appear now?
“Hey, focus!” Jihoon’s voice cut through your thoughts as he nudged your shoulder. “You’re going to cut yourself if you’re not careful.”
“Oh, shit,” you muttered, blinking down at the cutting board. You had nearly reached the end of the watermelon and were dangerously close to nicking your finger
“Why are you so distracted?” Jihoon teased, glancing briefly at Wonwoo and Claire before turning back to the stove. “Relax. He’s yours. I’m sure of it.”
You let out a dry laugh, though your stomach twisted. “You can’t be so sure. Not with his ex clinging to him like that.”
“I don’t know... He’s heading this way now, so I think I’m right,” Woozi replied, stirring the contents of the pan with a knowing smile.
Before you could process Jihoon’s words, Wonwoo appeared beside you. His presence made the kitchen feel smaller.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the watermelon as he gently nudged you aside. His body brushed against yours as he took the knife from your hand, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. He began slicing the fruit with ease.
Your pulse quickened. “What do you think?” you pouted, stepping aside but staying close enough for your elbows to brush every now and then.
“I think you’re trying to get my attention. Getting hurt and all,” he replied, making your jaw drop. He laughed at your expression. “Aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t hurt,” you told him, rolling your eyes although your heart was fluttering at the sight of his smile. “And even if I did want your attention, I don’t need to hurt myself to get it.”
Wonwoo nodded, agreeing. “You’re right. You don’t need to. It’s one of your many talents.”
You took a paring knife and started slicing the pears, scooting closer to Wonwoo so your elbows touched slightly. “Seokmin told me Claire was your ex.”
Wonwoo hummed in response, not looking up from the watermelon he was slicing. “She is. Freshman year.”
You stopped the urge to roll your eyes. “So you did believe in love.”
“Just because I had girlfriends before doesn’t mean I believe in love.” 
“You know, I heard somewhere that people who claim not to believe in love tend to be the most hopeless romantic individuals to ever walk the Earth.”
“Whoever said that was lying,” he replied, shoving a small piece of watermelon in your mouth, his fingers lightly brushing your lips.
You chewed slowly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. The way Wonwoo’s eyes lingered on your lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. On an ordinary day, that would be a good opportunity to make fun of him, but after what happened in the car earlier, you could not bring yourself to tease him.
He cleared his throat, looking away and resuming his task. You glanced around, suddenly feeling self-conscious and didn’t know where to put your hand, so you grabbed a slice of watermelon.
“It’s very sweet. Try it,” you said, offering the slice to him.
Without looking, Wonwoo leaned sideways to you and took a bite of the fruit. You instantly regretted that because now you were the one staring at his lips, recalling the vivid imagery of earlier’s kiss.
“Wonwoo!” a voice called out from the living room, snapping you out of your imaginations. It was Claire and she didn’t have anything to say, just waving at Wonwoo with a smile.
You glanced at Wonwoo who didn’t even bother to show a reaction, let alone respond.
“Does it bother you that she’s here?” you asked, your voice softer now, more curious than playful.
He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”
“So you’re unbothered?”
“I’m unbothered.”
You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “You know, I heard that people who say they’re unbothered tend to be... well, very bothered.”
Wonwoo let out a small, resigned laugh, finally setting the knife down. His gaze softened as he turned to face you fully. “Again with your odd wisdom.” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing but warm. “What’s next? People who claim to have allergies aren’t actually allergic?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” you shot back, laughing. “Allergies are backed by science. But being bothered when you’re in the same room as your ex? That’s a little harder to prove. Just like not believing in love.”
“You’re too smart for your own good,” he said sarcastically. “I might need to practice my patience so I can keep up with your antics.”
“Oh? You’ll do that instead of telling me to leave you alone?”
Wonwoo scowled lightly. “Did you forget what Seokmin said? That I hate it when people bother me?” he asked, reaching to tuck a few stray hairs behind your ear. “I don’t hate you, so I won’t tell you to leave me alone.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could reply, Claire’s voice carried over from the living room, breaking the moment. You glanced over, watching as she stood up, her eyes briefly meeting Wonwoo’s before she looked away.
I have a feeling in my gut that she’s doing this on purpose, you thought to yourself, narrowing your eyes slightly at the other girl.
“Dinner’s almost ready!” someone called from the kitchen, pulling your attention back.
Wonwoo didn’t seem to notice Claire at all as he turned to the stove to help Jihoon with the final touches. After that, you moved to the backyard just as the evening settled into a cool, dusky warmth. 
The smell of barbecue filled the air, rich and smoky. The large grill crackled and popped as steaks, skewers, and vegetables sizzled under Seokmin’s watchful—albeit playful—eye. You could hear him narrating the process dramatically to anyone who would listen, complete with sound effects.
“And now, behold! The perfectly grilled steak, sizzling under my masterful technique,” Seokmin proclaimed, waving his spatula like a wand.
You sat at one of the long picnic tables on the patio, nursing a cold drink and watching the light from the grill flicker across the faces of your friends. Wonwoo sat beside you, quietly observing the scene while Claire—who had rejoined the group—chatted animatedly with some others across the table. You were trying not to feel too aware of her presence, but it was impossible not to glance her way now and then.
“Hey, are you going to give me a hand, or are you just going to sit there looking cute?” Seokmin called to you with a playful wink.
You snorted, setting your drink down and getting up. “You know, you can’t use that line for everything.”
Seokmin shook his head, grinning widely. “Who said it’s a line? You just happen to look cute all the time, okay? Now, get over here and help me with the skewers.”
Wonwoo chuckled beside you, and you gave him a teasing glance as you headed toward the grill. “Don’t laugh too much, or you’ll be next on Seokmin’s target list.”
“I’ll pass,” Wonwoo replied dryly, though his eyes followed you with a hint of amusement.
You reached the grill, where Seokmin handed you a plate of marinated vegetables to arrange onto skewers. “So, how’s it going over there with Mr. Mysterious?” Seokmin asked in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he leaned closer.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”
Seokmin nudged you with his elbow. “Don’t play dumb. I saw how you and Wonwoo were looking at each other earlier. You’re practically making out with your eyes.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, you win. You are more invested in our relationship than me.”
“I told, didn’t I?” he asked, giving you a knowing grin. “I’ve known the guy for ages. He’s not usually this... I don’t know, present. It’s like he actually pays attention when you’re around. Normally, he’s off in his own world.”
You opened your mouth to respond but were interrupted when Wonwoo appeared at your side, casually grabbing one of the skewers you had just finished assembling.
“Hey!” you exclaimed, laughing. “You’re supposed to let them cook first.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, popping a piece of bell pepper into his mouth. “It’s good raw.”
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “It’s what?”
Wonwoo flicked Seokmin’s forehead, discouraging his thoughts. “Take your mind out of the gutters.”
Seokmin rubbed the part of his forehead that Wonwoo flicked, grinning at you and wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. You playfully swatted his arm with the back of your hand.
“So dirty-minded, go away,” you scolded though you were grinning.
Wonwoo smiled softly, and for a moment, the noise of the group around you faded. His gaze held yours, and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your chest again, that quiet tension that always seemed to hover between you.
Seokmin cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Okay, lovebirds, enough with the eyes! We’ve got mouths to feed.”
You blushed, turning back to the skewers as Seokmin gave you a teasing grin. He leaned over and whispered, “See? What did I say? Sparks.”
“Shut up,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help smiling.
Seokmin sighed reminiscently. “Man, I’m so single. I wish the others were here too.”
“Right? I would’ve been fun to have them here,” you noted, remembering your rowdy friends.
“We should do this again with them. Say ‘yes’.”
“Yes,” you replied, not missing a beat. “Absolutely, yes.”
As the grilling continued, you could hear laughter and chatter all around—Seokmin’s over-the-top narrations, Jihoon offering sarcastic commentary from where he stood near the grill, and Claire’s voice chiming in from the table, still carrying that same vibrant energy she had when you first arrived.
Once the food was ready, everyone gathered around the picnic tables, the platters piled high with grilled meats, skewers, and sides. The scent of charred meat and fresh herbs mixed with the cool evening breeze. The plates clinked as people passed around dishes, and conversations overlapped in the comfortable chaos of friends enjoying a good meal.
You found a spot next to Wonwoo again, your plate full, though you were more focused on the way his knee brushed against yours under the table. Each little touch felt like a secret between the two of you, unnoticed by everyone else.
Across the table, Prez pointed his fork at you and Wonwoo, grinning. “You two are awfully close for two people who aren’t dating.”
You almost choked on your food, but Wonwoo calmly sipped his drink, completely unfazed. “We’re just eating, Prez,” he said, but his hand landing gently on your thigh under the table contradicted his statement.
“Yeah, and sitting suspiciously close while doing it,” Seokmin quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. “Just saying. The grill master knows things.”
“You really need to stop calling yourself that,” one of your companions teased, shaking her head at Seokmin.
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, ma’am, but this title is earned through years of culinary excellence and—”
“Hey, Claire, do you think Seokmin deserves the title of ‘grill master’?” someone called from the other end of the table, cutting off his exaggerated speech.
Claire, who had been quiet for a while, looked up with a smile. “I mean, he did a good job, but I wouldn’t go that far.”
The group erupted into laughter, and Seokmin threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept the demotion.”
As the laughter died down, you felt Wonwoo lean a little closer, thumb rubbing your thigh over your jeans. He didn’t say anything, but the way he quietly stayed by your side, even in the midst of all the noise, spoke volumes.
The evening carried on, full of easy laughter, good food, drunk anecdotes, and the soft glow of lanterns that lit up the patio as night fell. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this light, this content, as the warmth of the barbecue wrapped around you like a comfortable blanket and the buzz of alcohol numbed the cold air hitting your skin.
“You alright?” Wonwoo asked, placing a hand over your back as you were resting your head on the table.
Everyone had gone back inside, save for a few others who continued their drinking by the poolside. You and Wonwoo were the only ones left at the table, mainly because you were tired and he didn’t want to leave you.
You sat up and stared at him. “My god, you’re so handsome. I could kiss you.”
“You’re drunk.”
You snort. “I’m not drunk. I never get drunk!” you paused, staring at your index finger. “Actually, I did get drunk
 once, twice? Was it thrice? I don’t remember. Anyway!”
You took a deep breath and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Even if I’m not drunk, I always want to kiss you.”
“You do?” he questioned, amused.
You stood up and stepped closer to him, he remained in his seat, watching you with soft eyes. You wobbled a bit but Wonwoo caught your arms firmly, keeping you steady. You held his face with your hands, squeezing his cheeks slightly. “Don’t dodge this, okay?”
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“So? Did you
” Seungcheol paused, hesitating. There was a hint of embarrassment on his face as he finished his sentence. “...kiss?”
You laughed, lolling your head back. “You’re a grown-ass man and you’re hesitating to say the word ‘kiss’?”
Seungcheol shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away with a small pout. That expression intrigued you, surprised to know he could make such a face. Then again, what do you really know about him?
“It’s not my fault. The mood of your story is quite
 I’m not sure what to call it. Innocent? In a way?”
“I get what you mean. But to answer your question, we didn’t kiss,” you jeered, rolling your eyes. “I blacked out and forgot, but he told me that we didn’t kiss. He dodged it.”
“You believed that?”
You shrugged. “Wonwoo had no reason to lie about it. I mean, that’s just out of character for him.”
“I see,” said Seungcheol, thinking. “So? What happened next?”
You groaned, taking a big sip of your drink before continuing. “Remember Claire?”
“Yeah, we do not like her.”
“Good, she’s annoying,” you said, rolling your eyes. “She was even more annoying the next day after that...”
Prez had a hike planned for the next day. The area was a popular spot for its beautiful river up the mountain, so you all agreed to go. When you heard a knock on your door, you had expected it to be Wonwoo, but instead, Jihoon’s smile greeted you.
“Looks like we’re carpooling today,” he said.
“We are?” you asked, blinking in confusion.
Jihoon gave a half-shrug. “Yeah, I thought the same. Figured you’d be with Wonwoo, but apparently, he already left.”
“Wonwoo’s gone?” You tried to keep your voice steady, masking the sting of disappointment that followed his words.
“Yeah, he headed out early with Prez, Claire, and a few others,” Jihoon explained, noticing the subtle shift in your expression.
You forced a smile, quickly masking the sinking feeling in your chest. “Well, can’t be helped. I’ll just grab my jacket.”
“Take your time. Calum’s not even ready yet, so we’ve got a bit.” Jihoon leaned against the doorframe as you moved back inside to grab your things.
“Who else is with us?” you asked, emerging with your jacket and a small backpack.
“Just Calum,” Jihoon replied with a smirk. “Which means we get to listen to him complain the whole way.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Well, we better go before he decides to ditch us too.”
As the three of you arrived at the foot of the mountain, you spotted the rest of the group already gathered around the guide for a quick briefing. Your eyes immediately searched for Wonwoo. Sure enough, he and Seokmin were at the front of the line, both seemingly unaware that you’d arrived. A strange tension filled the air as your gaze lingered on Wonwoo, but you quickly pushed it aside, focusing on the hike ahead.
“Okay! Everybody ready to go?” the guide asked and everyone responded with a chorus of yesses.
You saw Wonwoo scanning the crowd behind him, stopping only when he locked eyes with you. There was a subtle change in his expression, something softer as if in recognition of you. He patted Prez on the back, saying something to him before he jogged toward you.
“There you are,” he said with a small smile. “I thought you weren’t coming?”
“Who said that?” you asked, genuinely perplexed. 
“Claire. She said she heard you tell someone that you weren’t coming out today.”
You smirked, annoyed at Claire and her obvious attempt to sabotage you. “And you didn’t think to check with me?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “I didn’t wanna wake you. You seemed pretty drunk last night.”
The annoyance you were feeling suddenly dissipated, replaced by shame as you recalled trying to kiss him last night. You looked away, covering your mouth in shock.
“Are you shy?” he asked, chuckling lightly. “That’s new.”
You tutted at him and hit his arm playfully. “Shut up.”
He chuckled, casually taking your sling bag and wearing it across his chest. “I’ll take this.”
You grinned playfully. “Are you a gentleman now? Is it because you’ve fallen in love with me?”
“No. I just don’t want to deal with you complaining about a heavy bag halfway through the hike.”
The hike started out smoothly, with the morning sun filtering through the trees. Your group moved at a comfortable pace, with chatter filling the air as you climbed higher, nearing the mountain’s scenic river. Claire—who somehow found a way to walk next to Wonwoo and you, was leading the conversation close to Wonwoo, which irritated you more than you’d like to admit. 
“Are you alright?” Jihoon asked quietly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. He flashed you a knowing smirk, catching the direction of your gaze.
“I’m fine. Just
 taking in the view,” you replied quietly.
Jihoon didn’t seem convinced but dropped the subject. “Well, we’re almost there. Save your energy. There’s still the climb up to the ridge,” he added, pointing ahead to a steeper incline.
You felt a hand on your back and glanced at Wonwoo who just smiled at you. As the group made its way up, the conversation turned to reminiscing about old hiking trips. Claire, of course, found her way into this again, laughing as she talked about a time she and Wonwoo had hiked a similar trail. 
“Wonwoo was such a show-off back then,” she said with a laugh, nudging him. “You remember that, right?”
You could hear the hint of nostalgia in her voice, but Wonwoo barely reacted. He just gave a polite nod, keeping his eyes on the trail ahead and his hand on your back. 
“I was younger. Probably didn’t know better.”
Claire smiled at his response, but there was something about the way she looked at him—like she was waiting for more. It twisted something in your chest.
“Yeah, when you’re younger, you make stupid decisions,” said Seokmin, laughing a tad bit louder than necessary. “You’re so relatable, man. I try to forget my stupid decisions too. Especially the worst ones.”
You didn’t know the context, but you grasped the picture Seokmin was trying to insinuate about Wonwoo and Claire’s history. For some reason, it made you feel better about yourself to know that Wonwoo’s friend didn’t like his ex.
After another thirty minutes of steady climbing, you reached the ridge, overlooking the crystal-clear river that sparkled in the distance. Everyone took a breath, the beauty of the view silencing the group momentarily.
“This spot is perfect!” Prez called out, breaking the stillness as he bounced forward with his phone, ready to take pictures. “Let’s get some photos, everyone!”
Some of the group began to gather for a group shot, while others wandered around, taking in the scenery. You stayed back, wanting to enjoy the moment without Claire’s constant presence.
After a few photos and a lot of teasing from Seokmin, everyone dispersed, walking back toward the trail to continue on. As you moved ahead, you glanced at Wonwoo, who seemed quieter than usual, lost in his thoughts. You wondered if it was Claire getting to him, or if he was just being his typical reserved self.
The hike continued around the river, with a playful challenge thrown in along the way. Seokmin, always full of energy, dared anyone to balance on a fallen log that stretched across a small stream.
“Come on, who’s got the best balance?” he called out, clapping his hands together. “It’s a rite of passage for this hike!”
Prez shook his head, grinning. “I’m out. I’ll leave that to the younger ones.”
Seokmin turned to you, eyebrows raised. “How about you? I bet you’ve got some hidden skills.”
You shook your head. “Have fun without me.”
“Come on!” Seokmin grinned, motioning for you to step up. “Just once. Let’s see who wins.”
“Fine. You asked for this,” you told him, taking off your jacket and tying it across your hips.
The challenge began, and as you wobbled your way across the log, the others cheered from the sidelines. Seokmin was right behind you, steady but focused, and you could feel his presence as you tried not to lose your balance. A few slips here and there, but you made it across, jumping off the log with a victorious grin.
“Not bad, not bad!” Seokmin cheered, clapping his hands as he followed behind you, landing with ease.
You were catching your breath when you noticed Claire, standing a bit too close to Wonwoo, again sharing some kind of inside joke. Your stomach twisted as you watched them, the sight more irritating than the thought of falling off the log.
Feeling a bit frustrated, you turned away, pretending to check your bag but realized it was with Wonwoo. You sighed again, and then suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Wonwoo, holding out his water bottle.
“You didn’t bring water, did you?” he said simply, eyes soft but unreadable. “Drink up.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Oh
 thanks.”
“Don’t wanna have to carry you all the way back.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was only trying to downplay his concern for you. “Of course, of course.”
You took the bottle, your frustration softening as you realized he’d been paying attention. It wasn’t much, but you loved it anyway. You basked in it—in his attention which seemed to be on you most of the time.
He didn’t say anything more, just walked beside you as the group started unloading their stuff for a quick lunch by the river. The others went for a swim, led by Seokmin, as expected. You quietly took a sip of the water, the cool water hydrating you as you glanced over at Wonwoo in his usual quiet demeanor. He handed you a sandwich that he’d peeled open for you. Even though he wasn’t saying much, his actions were enough, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going through his mind.
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After lunch, Seokmin managed to talk you into looking for wild berries. The guide mentioned there were plenty of wild berries around, so it sounded like a harmless adventure. You walked with Seokmin, Jihoon, and a few others, but Wonwoo decided to sit this one out, saying he was a bit tired. You glanced back at him, wondering why he didn’t want to join. He simply gave you a small wave before sitting by the water’s edge, his quiet presence still lingering in your thoughts.
As you wandered deeper into the trees with the group, the sound of laughter and rustling bushes filled the air. Seokmin was practically bouncing from one patch of greenery to the next, exclaiming every time he found a small cluster of berries.
“Look, these are the good ones! I told you I had an eye for this!” he boasted, holding up a handful of bright red berries.
“Okay, okay! We know you’re the berry master,” you teased, bending down to pluck a few yourself. But as you reached for another low-hanging cluster, you misjudged your footing on a slippery rock. The moss-covered surface gave way under your shoe, and before you could catch yourself, you stumbled forward, scraping your hand against a sharp branch. A sharp sting shot through your palm, and you hissed in pain, clutching your hand.
“Ow!” You winced, inspecting the cut. It wasn’t deep, but a small trickle of blood appeared, and the sting was enough to make you stop in your tracks.
“Are you alright?” Jihoon was quick to notice, walking over to check on you.
You waved him off with a sheepish smile, trying not to make a big deal of it. “Yeah, I just slipped on a rock. It’s not that bad.”
Seokmin, always the dramatic one, rushed over too. “Whoa, are you bleeding? Should we get you back? Do we need a first aid kit? A stretcher?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I’m fine. I just need to wash it off.”
But despite your attempts to brush it off, the sting lingered, and you felt a little foolish for not watching your step. Jihoon offered you his handkerchief to wrap around your hand for now. “Here, it’s not much, but it should help until we get back.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit more embarrassed than hurt.
After a while, the group decided it was time to head back to the riverbank. As you approached, the sight of Wonwoo sitting alone by the water came into view. He was gazing out at the stream, looking serene.
When he saw you returning, his eyes instantly dropped to your hand, the makeshift bandage catching his attention. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you, his brow furrowed slightly.
“What happened?” he asked sternly, his gaze locking onto yours.
“Oh, I just slipped. It’s nothing, really,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the throbbing in your palm said otherwise.
Wonwoo, however, didn’t seem convinced. Without asking, he gently took your hand, carefully peeling back the cloth to look at the cut. His touch was soft but firm, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he inspected the wound.
“You should clean this properly,” he said, his voice low, a hint of concern in his tone.
“I will, it’s just—” you started, but he was already pulling you toward the river’s edge.
He crouched down by the water, motioning for you to follow. “Come here, rinse it off.”
You knelt beside him, dipping your hand into the cool water. The sting intensified for a moment before the fresh stream washed the dirt and blood away, leaving the cut cleaner. As if on cue, the guide appeared with a small first-aid kit, handing it to Wonwoo. He opened it, cleaning the wound with a steady hand before covering it with a Band-Aid.
“Here,” he murmured. “This should be better than that cloth.”
You glanced at your hand, grateful, but Wonwoo's next words caught you off guard.
“You said you don’t need to hurt yourself to get my attention?” he asked, an almost teasing glint in his eyes.
You blinked, caught between amusement and exasperation. “I didn’t do this on purpose! And you weren’t even there when it happened. How is this an attempt at getting your attention?”
“You came here with a wound,” he replied, his gaze softening slightly. “That got my attention.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t ask for you to clean it up or worry about me.”
For a moment, his brow furrowed as he studied you. “You don’t want me to?”
“What? Of course, I do!” you stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “But if you’re just going to hold it against me, no thanks. I’ll take care of myself.”
Wonwoo didn’t let the comment slide. “As if you have to take care of yourself. Lots of people will do that for you,” he said, scoffing as he nodded at Jihoon who was chatting animatedly with other people in a distance. “Like Jihoon, for example.”
You felt a spark of irritation flare. “God, I hope you’re saying that because you’re jealous.”
Wonwoo’s scoff came out a little too loud, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Exactly,” you said, pouting as you stood up abruptly, a wave of frustration rising in your chest. “You don’t like me enough to get jealous of other guys.”
Wonwoo stood up too, his expression softening just slightly. “Let’s go back together, okay? Don’t go with Jihoon.”
You crossed your arms, turning away. “Did you hear me complain when you came here with your ex?”
Wonwoo fell quiet for a second longer than expected. When you turned to look at him, he was smiling. You raised an eyebrow, making him chuckle lowly.
“You don't have to worry about her.”
“I'm not worried,” you denied, huffing. “Why would I be worried? I'm a 10. 2 hot 2 handle.”
Wonwoo chuckled, pulling you by the waist and wiping your damp forehead. “Don't hang out with Seokmin too much, you're starting to sound like him.”
You didn't say anything, too caught up in the feeling of being close to him to form a coherent sentence.
“Come on. Let’s pack up,” he said, quietly dismissing whatever it was that just happened between you.
After the hike, you all went back to the villa to pack and get ready for the long drive home. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow, tired motions, still buzzing with the high of a day spent outdoors, but ready to settle into the comfort of a car seat. You grabbed your jacket and water bottle, feeling a slight soreness from the hike, but overall content with how the day had gone.
When Wonwoo finished loading your stuff in the trunk, you made your way to the shotgun and sat there while waiting to leave. Claire appeared at your window, startling you a little. She was smiling as she knocked.
“Hi, Won,” she greeted as if she couldn’t see you there. “You didn’t forget your promise, right? That you’d give me a ride back?”
“Of course,” Wonwoo replied.
“Yay, thank you!” she said, opening the front seat door, much to your confusion.
Claire stared at you for a while, making you feel self-conscious all of a sudden. You gave her an inquiring look, which she returned with a raised eyebrow, gesturing for you to get off.
“Do you want me to get off so you can sit here?” you asked aloud, genuinely curious. “Seriously?”
“What’s going on?” Wonwoo asked, making you glance at him.
Claire spoke before you could respond. “Oh, I don’t mean to offend you or anything. It’s just
 well, I get woozy when I sit in the backseat for long drives. Wonwoo knows this. I hope you understand.”
Her words seemed innocent enough, but her tone grated on you. You glanced at Wonwoo, half-expecting him to shoot down the excuse for what it was—a blatant attempt to sit next to him. Instead, he gave a simple nod, signaling for you to move.
Your heart sank. Seriously? It was obvious what she was doing. Glaringly obvious. And yet, he was just... fine with it? You bit back your frustration, forcing a polite smile as you got out of the shotgun seat.
“Oh, thanks a lot! You’re such an angel,” Claire gushed as she slipped into the seat beside Wonwoo. Her voice was dripping with exaggerated sweetness, but there was a glint of malice in her eyes that you were sure only you could see because her back was on Wonwoo.
“I have snacks,” she added to Wonwoo, pulling out a bag. “We can share it. I know you like to nibble on something when driving.”
Still silent, deadpan, you slid into the backseat, trying not to let it bother you. You stared out the window, hoping something—anything—would distract you from the irritation building up. Then you spotted Seokmin jogging toward the car, his usual carefree grin plastered on his face.
That was a relief. Seokmin is fun so you’d probably be too busy laughing to even notice the two other people in front of you.
You moved to open the door for him, but he went straight to knock on Wonwoo’s window.
“What’s going on? I thought you said you were too tired to drive?” Seokmin called through the rolled-down window.
“Yeah, I was waiting for you,” Wonwoo replied, his voice light as he opened the door to step out.
You blinked in confusion as Seokmin slid into the driver’s seat, chatting animatedly. Wonwoo made his way to the back, where you sat still trying to piece together what just happened. When he reached for the door, you instinctively tugged it shut, surprising both of you.
“Oh, sorry,” you blurted, opening it again quickly, your cheeks flushing. Wonwoo raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just chuckled softly as he pulled the door open himself.
He settled next to you, draping an arm over the seat. “Where’s our blanket?” he asked, glancing around.
“Our—” you started, then caught yourself. “It’s
 uh
 there!”
You pointed toward the compartment near the gear shift. Wonwoo reached for it, undoing the fold and casually covering himself with it.
“Hey, I brought that for myself,” you protested, though there was no real heat behind your words.
“I’m cold. If you need it, you can scoot closer,” he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile.
“Don’t just hog it,” you complained, tugging the blanket but Wonwoo tutted, glaring at you playfully before scooting closer to you and covering you with the blanket.
Seokmin, who had been fiddling with the car’s controls, sighed dramatically, tilting his head toward you two. “I’ve never felt so single until now.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was undeniable. As the car finally started moving, you caught Claire’s icy stare in the rearview mirror.  She was not enjoying the ride at all, and you hadn’t even left the parking lot yet.
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The ride back to the university had been a blur. After the initial chatter and laughter, the exhaustion from the hike finally caught up to you. You vaguely remembered the sound of Seokmin’s playful banter, Claire’s chipper voice fading in and out, and the muffled conversations that filled the car, but most of it was a fog.
By the time you woke up, the sun had dipped lower in the sky. You blinked groggily, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. It was then you realized your head was resting on Wonwoo’s arm, nestled comfortably against his shoulder. The scent of his hoodie filled your senses, and you stiffened slightly, unsure how long you’d been using him as your personal pillow.
You hesitated to move, not wanting to wake him if he had dozed off too, but then you felt him shift. His arm flexed slightly under your weight, and you quickly sat up, feeling your face grow warm as you straightened yourself.
“Sorry, was I heavy?” you started, voice still heavy with sleep.
Wonwoo turned his head toward you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It’s fine. You looked tired.” His voice was calm, as if it was no big deal, and somehow that made you relax a little.
You glanced out the window to see familiar buildings coming into view. The car was already pulling into the university parking lot, the journey back seemingly much shorter than expected—probably because you’d slept through most of it.
Seokmin was the first to break the silence from the front seat, stretching dramatically as the car came to a stop. “Finally! I thought we’d be driving forever.”
Claire, who had been unusually quiet toward the end of the ride, turned in her seat to glance at you and Wonwoo with a tight smile. “Did you get enough sleep back there?” she asked, her tone sugary but edged.
You smiled politely, pretending not to notice the underlying tone of her question. “Yeah, I feel better now, thanks.”
Stepping out of the car, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders as the cool evening breeze hit you. Wonwoo came around the side of the car, his backpack slung over one shoulder and yours in his hand, his expression as calm and unreadable as always. You walked together in silence toward the dorms, the sounds of your friends’ voices fading behind you.
“I guess that’s the end of our little trip,” you said softly, breaking the quiet between you.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied, glancing over at you. “It was fun.”
You nodded, the memory of the hike and the car ride settling into something softer, quieter. You couldn’t recall every detail of the trip, but a few things stuck with you—the feeling of warmth each time he attended to you, the quiet closeness that had lingered in the space between you, and although it had been a silly joke, the kiss that you shared with him in the car.
At the dorm entrance, he paused, turning to you with a small flicker of worry on his face. “How’s your hand?”
“This? Oh, it’s totally fine,” you said, showing him your hand. “You took really good care of it.”
Wonwoo gave a slight nod, his lips curling into a faint smile.
He walked you all the way to your room, with your bag in his hand while you kept talking to him, asking him this and that like a curious toddler. 
“What are you doing today?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably working on an assignment.”
You raised a brow, pushing the conversation further. “And after that?”
“Gaming, maybe,” he replied with a small smirk, clearly entertained by your persistent questioning.
You tilted your head, pretending to think deeply. “Do you need help with the assignment?”
He gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “No, I’ve got it.”
As you reached the door to your room, you hesitated, glancing at him. The idea of letting the day end here felt anticlimactic, and you weren’t ready to let it slip away so easily. He stood there, still holding your bag, his usual calm expression giving nothing away. 
“Do you wanna come in for a bit?” you asked, glancing at him. 
He blinked, a little surprised. “Why?”
“So I can hang out with you more,” you answered honestly, flashing him a playful smile. “You can get started on that assignment and I promise not to bother you too much.”
His eyes flickered to the door, then back to you, his lips quirking into that small, barely-there smile he often wore. “Sure.”
You opened the door and stepped inside, the cool air from your room greeting you as you flicked on the lights. It wasn’t much—a cozy little dorm room with just enough space for a bed, desk, a single couch, a built-in closet, and a small shelf where you kept a stash of snacks.
“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, motioning to the small couch by the window. You placed your bag down and went over to the mini-fridge. “I’ve got some juice or water. Or
 ah, here we go,” you smiled, pulling out a couple of sodas. “Would you like some?”
Wonwoo took a seat, casually stretching his long legs out in front of him, his gaze following you as you handed him a can. He accepted it with a nod, popping it open with a soft hiss. The sound filled the quiet room, making the moment feel more intimate somehow.
He opened his laptop and began working, but you couldn’t help glancing over at him every now and then. The subtle shift of his focus, the way his fingers moved over the keyboard—it was distracting in a way you weren’t expecting. You grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the floor next to the couch, close enough that your shoulder pressed slightly on his leg.
“Why are you on the floor?” he asked, reaching for the side of your head and rubbing his thumb through your hair.
“I don’t wanna eat on the bed,” you replied, leaning slightly in his touch. “I’m fine, you can keep working,” you added, pulling up an app on your phone.
You were content with the quiet—both of you immersed in your own different bubbles, but still feeling the warmth radiating from each other. You didn’t think you’d actually keep your promise to be quiet and let him work, but here you are.
“So, about the hike
” Wonwoo said after a while, leaning back into the cushions as he stretched out his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”
You took a sip of your soda, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, it was nice. Different.”
“Different?”
“In a good way.” You smiled. “I didn’t expect to have that much fun either. Well, except for the part where I hurt myself,” you added with a playful grimace, showing him your bandaged hand again.
Wonwoo’s eyes softened as he glanced at your hand. “Just be careful next time.”
There was a pause. You could feel him watching you, and when you finally looked up to meet his gaze, there was something in his eyes that made you feel both nervous and confident at the same time. It felt like the perfect moment to say something, to push the boundary of whatever this tension was between you.
Wonwoo put his laptop away. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.
You stood up almost immediately, placing your arm around his neck as you lowered yourself down on his toned thighs. Not many words were exchanged between you—you didn’t need to anyway, you both knew exactly what you wanted.
Wonwoo’s lips met yours in a soft, lingering touch, as if testing the waters. But after a second, a wave of heat surged through you, and you felt your entire body come alive. His lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of the soda he'd had earlier, and you couldn’t help but lean in closer, deepening the kiss.
He responded almost immediately, a low, quiet sound escaping him as his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His fingers dug into your sides, not harshly, but enough to make your breath hitch. The room around you disappeared—there was no bed, no walls, no anything. Just the two of you lost in each other.
Your lips parted, allowing the kiss to deepen, and when his tongue swept across your lower lip, a shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was something more, something primal, and hot—very hot. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him, and he obliged, his lips moving against yours with more urgency, more need.
You gasped when his teeth grazed your lower lip, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through your body, and your knees weakened. His arms tightened around you, holding you steady, as though he could sense how much you were melting into him.
When you pulled back, you were in awe, staring at him with your mouth hanging open. Wonwoo smiled a content smile—proud, even, as he traced the outline of your face with his thumb.
“Wow, that was so much better than what we did in the car,” you blurted before you could think about it. “I mean
 heh. Not saying that one was bad, just, you know. This one is better.”
He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before reaching for his laptop. His focus reverted back to his work, which caught you off-guard since you were still sitting on his lap, with his hand supporting your back.
He’s not seriously going back to his assignment, is he? you pondered, a bit disappointed. But he did, pulling you closer slightly as he used his two hands to type.
You casually slid out of his lap, sitting your butt on the armrest, but he held your legs in place just as you were about to get off completely, so you just left it there. For the next hour, you sat there together, him working on his assignment, and you scrolling through your phone.
You were both silent—he’d always been quiet, but you? Your mouth may be quiet, but your mind is spiraling—overthinking, replaying, wondering, and projecting different scenarios in your head—all while celebrating another blissful kiss from Wonwoo.
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In the days that followed, things between you and Wonwoo felt different— and unmistakably so. It wasn’t just the quiet, stolen glances anymore, or the playful teasing that came so naturally. There was a shift in the way you interacted, in the way he smiled more often, and in how he seemed more comfortable around you.
Before, it had always been you who initiated any kind of physical touch in public—holding his hand, a playful nudge, resting your head on his shoulder when you were tired. But now, it was him, too. Wonwoo would casually drape an arm across the back of your chair when you sat together in the library, or he'd give your shoulder a quick squeeze as you passed him by in the hallway. In private, he would hold your hand, or rest his hand on your thigh when you were out with friends. There was nothing over the top about it—just small, simple gestures—but the warmth of it lingered each time, leaving your heart racing a little faster.
One afternoon, you both sat in a quiet corner of a cafe, sipping iced coffee while you pretended to focus on your assignments. Wonwoo was clicking away on his laptop, his attention mostly on the screen, but every now and then, he’d look up, meet your gaze, and flash you that rare, quiet smile that made you melt just a little.
“You’ve been smiling a lot lately,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.
He didn’t look up, but his lips curved upward. “What? I always smile.”
“Not like this. You’ve been smiling because of me.”
Wonwoo finally met your gaze, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “I smile for a lot of people.”
“Oh? Do you kiss a lot of people too?” you shot back, leaning forward and watching as a faint flush touched his ears.
He shook his head, still smiling but retreating behind his usual mask of aloofness. “That was a fluke. And I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me.”
You gasped dramatically. “You filthy little liar!”
He simply chuckled but didn’t argue further. Instead, he glanced over at your half-empty cup and nudged it toward you. “Finish your drink, or you’ll complain about all the ice melting away later.”
Your heart fluttered at the subtle care behind his words. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to outwardly fawn over anyone, but these little moments showed how much he paid attention. You wanted to impress him, so you drained your cup in one go, even though you were already full. He chuckled softly, giving you a look that said he saw right through you.
It wasn’t all just the proximity and teasing, though. You’d started noticing how you both went out of your way to take care of each other. You would save him snacks from lunch or remind him about deadlines, just wanting to show you cared. He, in turn, would grab an extra coffee for you in the mornings or walk you to class when it got dark, without making a big deal out of it. He was thoughtful, considerate—genuinely so.
Later that evening, you met up with him for dinner at a small restaurant near the campus, you greeted him with your usual chipper smile.
“Is that a scrunchie?” you asked, eyeing the yellow lace scrunchie around his pulse.
“Hmh?” He glanced at his wrist. “Oh. Yeah, it’s a backup.”
“Backup?”
“You keep losing yours when we go out. I got this for backup.”
“Aw. You’re so obsessed with me and I totally understand. I mean—” With flair, you flicked your hair out of your shoulder. “Just look at me.”
“Don’t push it,” he warned, taking the scrunchie from his wrist and handing it to you. “Fix your hair. I don’t want it in my soup.”
You took it with a teasing grin. “Thanks. You could have just gotten those plain black hair ties though. That way, I wouldn’t feel too bad for losing them.”
“I thought it would look good on you,” he mumbled but you heard him just fine.
Out of habit, you would’ve teased him—asked if he’s falling for you. But the way he looked away with the tiniest hint of shyness, the red tint on his ears, and the slight furrow of his brows—they all made your heart race. You needed not to ask, the fact was staring right back at you.
The thought of Wonwoo finally falling in love with you was daunting—terrifying in the best way. But you didn’t know how to navigate this phase.
You decided to keep things playful, like always. “Are you falling in love with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” you teased, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Wonwoo scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an air of practiced indifference. “I’m not falling in love with anyone,” he denied smoothly.
“Maybe not,” you shot back, a knowing grin curling your lips. “But you definitely like me.”
Just then, the server approached, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. “Oh, to be young again,” she said, her gaze flitting between you two. “You two look adorable together. How long have you been dating?”
“We’re not dating,” you said automatically, flashing the woman a charming smile. “It’s just me. I like him a lot, and he’s
 well, he’s just putting up with my antics.” You scrunched your nose for added effect, fully expecting the server to move on.
But the woman tilted her head thoughtfully. “Isn’t that what a couple is?” she said, her smile widening.
You blinked, taken aback by her question. “Sorry?”
“If you like him, and he puts up with all your silly antics,” she continued with a hearty laugh, “then you’re a couple.”
Your heart skipped a beat, the teasing atmosphere suddenly charged with a different kind of tension. You glanced at Wonwoo, half-expecting him to deny it too. But he just stared back at you, lips quirking into an amused smile, saying nothing. 
This wasn’t the first time someone mistook you for a couple. You’d lost count of how many times people asked things like, “When did you start seeing each other?” And every time, you laughed it off, always the first to deny it, brushing away the idea with a joke. Not because you didn’t want it to be true—but because you were scared of making Wonwoo uncomfortable, scared of pushing something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Wonwoo, however, never once denied it, though he never really confirmed it either.
“Have you decided on your order yet?” the woman asked, prompting your attention.
After dinner, you walked back to the campus, completely satisfied by the good food. You were clinging on Wonwoo’s arm, your head swaying from side to side as you hummed a song that you liked listening to these days.
“Why do you keep telling everyone we’re not a couple?” he asked out of nowhere, making you glance up at him in surprise.
“Because we’re not?” you replied, brow furrowed.
A smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “For someone who’s supposedly head over heels for me, you seem to hate it when people think we’re a couple.”
“I don’t hate it. I actually like it!” you defended, tightening your grip on his arm. “I’m denying it for your sake. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” he echoed, glancing down at you.
You paused, biting your lip, trying to think of how to respond. “Because
 I guess I just didn’t want to assume you were okay with it. I didn’t want to make it weird by pushing something you hadn’t even said you wanted.”
“Why would you go out of your way worrying about me when I don’t even make a big deal out of it?”
His tone was casual, almost indifferent, but there was something in the way he said it—something that made your heart skip. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You couldn’t quite piece together what he was really getting at. It was confusing and you didn’t want to make your own conclusions.
Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, moving a step ahead of you, his hands slipping into his pockets as he walked on.
“Hey, wait up!” you called after him, jogging to catch up, completely unaware of the small, knowing smile that played on his lips.
BACK IN the present, Seungcheol scoffed and started clapping, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Wow.”
You frowned, confused. “What? Why are you clapping?”
He stopped, resting his hands on his thighs and giving you a sarcastic smile. “You were so dense, it’s embarrassing.”
“Hey! Whatever happened to just listening and not judging?”
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You were in your dorm room again, the familiar comfort of your space wrapping around both of you. It had become routine—spending time here, where you could sit across from him or lie together in peaceful silence. Wonwoo, as usual, had his legs crossed, leaning on the backrest of the couch, looking more relaxed than ever as he talked about his plans for the future. 
It was the kind of conversation that you’d expect from Wonwoo. He had been so open about his future, talking about post-college job prospects and what he planned to do with his IT degree. You listened, intrigued by his calm and composed outlook.
“What about you?” he asked, catching you off-guard.
It was odd to be caught off-guard because of the way your conversation was going, it was expected of Wonwoo to ask about your plans too. At the time, it hadn’t sunk in yet, but you remembered that you were already a senior and would soon be graduating. It was a difficult question for you—a student who didn’t know what to do to launch the career she wanted to pursue.
“What do you wanna do?” he asked again, tilting his head in the way he did when he knew you weren’t paying attention.
You found yourself drifting, your gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips. It was a habit now, the way your eyes traced the curve of his mouth whenever he spoke—how his lips moved with each word, the subtle way they pressed together in thought. You barely registered the question he had just asked, lost in the subtle details of him.
“Hey?”
You blinked, your gaze snapping back to his eyes, but the words tumbled out before you could think. “I so badly want to kiss you right now.”
Wonwoo sighed, like he was almost bored, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. His non-reaction is only comical to you now.
You shrugged, already moving to stand up. “Never mind, then.”
You turned to leave but then came a sudden tug that had you sitting on Wonwoo’s lap, a brief glimpse of him swiftly taking his glasses off and tossing them aside before his lips crashed into yours—all in a span of two seconds. 
You were dumbfounded, but you immediately returned his kiss with the same amount of fervor.
“There. Happy?” he muttered, looking bored, though you weren’t fooled by his attempt to downplay what had just happened.
You blinked, still catching your breath. Slowly, you pouted as you reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. “I don’t really wanna talk about careers right now.”
“Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Then let’s talk about us.”
“Us?” you echoed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse had quickened.
He nodded, watching you with gentleness on his face that gave you butterfli. “Yeah. Us. Me, you, and what we want this relationship to be.”
The room felt still, his words hanging in the air between you. You couldn’t stop staring at him—at the way, his dark eyes softened as they traced your face, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as if there was something more he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.
Your heart was pounding, your pulse echoing in your ears, and the proximity of him—so close, so inviting—was intoxicating. He looked at you with a quiet intensity, his gaze flickering down to your lips, and in that instant, something between you snapped.
Wonwoo grabbed your face and pressed his lips onto yours—softly, languidly, like he’d been deprived of it for so long that he wanted to savor every second of it. You quietly kissed him back, closing your eyes to immerse yourself. Every touch felt electric. The way his hands slid up your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The way his lips moved with a rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your heart. It was overwhelming—the intensity of it, the way you could feel his heart beating through his chest, how the heat was engulfing you from head to toe.
You pulled back for a moment, just enough to catch your breath, but your forehead stayed pressed against his. His breath was warm against your lips, and his eyes—half-lidded and dark with desire—locked onto yours. He didn’t say anything, but he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. You could still taste him on your lips, the memory of the kiss lingering, sending a thrill through you all over again.
“Kiss me like that again and I’m gonna take it as your confession of love,” you said, breaking the silence.
Wonwoo rolled his eyes and kissed you again with the same amount of sweet abandon. You gasped when he pulled away, utterly shocked.
“Is that
 Is that your confession of love?”
“You’re impossible,” he sighed.
Before you could say anything else, his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it was deeper, hungrier. His lips molded against yours, his grip on you tightening as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss as he tilted his head, changing the angle to kiss you even harder.
You felt dizzy, lightheaded—completely consumed by him. His lips, his touch, his scent—all of it was too much, yet not enough at the same time. You wanted more of him, more of this.
Your hips bucked forward, slamming onto his crotch where you found out that he too was being spurred further into the pit of desire. The contact made Wonwoo grunt, nipping your lower lip and wrapping strong arms around your waist. 
Breathless, you pulled away, staring into his eyes and wondering if this was actually happening. Wonwoo lifted you by your thighs and moved from the couch to the bed in a heartbeat. There, he carefully laid you down, running gentle fingers through your hair.
“Wonwoo
” you whispered, unsure of what you were going to say, but needing to break the silence.
He pressed a thumb on your lip, shushing your softly before kissing you again. This time, he abandoned your lips too quickly, moving his kisses down to your jaw and up to your earlobe. The tickling sensation spread through your nerves, intensified by his hand slipping under your shirt to palm your breast. You moaned out, arching toward his touch as your way of asking for more.
Wonwoo’s lips left your ear, trailing to your neck down to your collarbone. His hands were busy with the buttons of your shirt, all while you were angling your neck to give him better access of your skin.
He pulled back once he was done with the buttons, marveling at the sight of your body, and letting out a sharp exhale before lifting the hem of his shirt and tossing it across the room.
“I can do a lot more without those,” he rasped, gesturing at your underwear and you hurriedly took them off.
While you were fiddling with the hook of your bra, Wonwoo dived down to kiss your belly, sucking with an intensity that you knew would leave tiny bruises on your skin. He was moving upwards, grabbing a boob as he peppered his path with kisses and then taking his mouth to meet your nipple. As if by his design, he sucked your nipple and pressed his fingers on your sex at the same time.
The moan you let out was throaty, spurred on by the ministrations of his mouth and his fingers. He rubbed tentative circles on your cunt, trying to find your clit based on your reactions. When he did find it, your mouth parted open as you took a sharp intake of breath, and the confidence on Wonwoo’s face made you want him even more than you already did.
“Oh, I see,” he grinned, licking a stripe on your neck. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”
You bit your lower lip, trying not to lose your mind with just this. “Since when were you so arroga—agh!”
“Shh, you’re distracting me,” he said after pushing a finger in your cunt that had you gasping. He watched you writhe underneath him, going absolutely feral with just a finger. When he pushed another one inside, you were close to crying, whimpering, and clenching around his fingers.
“Wonwoo please
” you whined, forehead creased and lips downturned—desperate, needy. “Inside, baby. Please.”
“Come on. Say it properly. I can’t give you what you want unless you speak to me clearly.”
You threw your head back and sobbed before meeting his gaze again to say, “Fuck me, Wonwoo. I need you to fuck me really really good.”
Wonwoo groaned softly, clenching his jaw as he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. He shimmied out of his sweatpants and positioned himself between your legs, watching you with half-lidded eyes.
You watched in anticipation as he licked his fingers and used them to palm his erection. As he did, your breath hitched, chest heaving up and down as you waited patiently for him to do what he came to do. He lowered himself, placing his hands beside your head as he prodded your entrance with his cock. 
Finally, you let out a guttural moan as he pushed inside you with one messy stroke. The nerves all over your body were rejoicing, feeling both relief and a delightful pain as your cunt stretched exquisitely.
“Damn, look at you,” he drawled, leaning lower to give your open mouth a sloppy kiss. “I didn’t know you could get any prettier. If I did, I would have done this a long time ago.”
“Move, Wonwoo,” you managed to rasp out, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice. “Please, move. Please, please, please, please!”
He did as you asked, moving languidly as he practiced the clench. That didn’t take long. In no time, he was rocking inside you over and over in a rhythm that made you lose your mind. You writhed and whimpered, urging Wonwoo to keep going.
When it looked like you couldn’t take any more, he paused for a bit, squeezing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Then he lifted your leg over his shoulder and rammed deeply into you, grunting at how tightly you clung onto his manhood.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pausing to take a break. You reached to wipe the sweat forming on his forehead and saw the expression on his face—something between pained and delighted. “We’re not done yet,” he said, hovering over you and ravishing your neck before picking up where he left off.
You kept at it, moving in sync with each other, getting lost in a blur of passion and desire. Your mind was clouded, thinking about nothing except satisfaction and release. You rose to meet his thrust, clawing at his back as you desperately chased a high that was almost within reach.
“Oh, Wonwoo,” you cried out, eyes rolling back just before the pulsating release engulfed you with euphoria.
“Damn it,” Wonwoo murmured, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unsteady as he chased his own climax, driven further into a high by your blissed-out face.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, staring at the ceiling with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing to break the silence. You turned on your side, moving toward him and resting your head on his arm. His hands found a spot on your waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on your skin.
“Is this the part where I ask if I could be your boyfriend?” he asked, breaking the silence.
You giggled. “We’re way past that now. But I’d say ‘yes’ just for the sake of it.”
“But I don’t believe in love. Is that okay?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s okay.”
“It’s overrated.”
“Yes, you’ve told me that,” you replied, chuckling lightly.
He turned on his side so he could face you, his eyes gleaming with affection and fondness. Those eyes were directed at you. “I’m not good at this. And I don’t know what to call this, but I know I can’t stand the idea of not being yours.”
You kissed his cheek. “It’s fine, Wonwoo. If you want me like I want you, it doesn’t matter what we call it.”
“Okay, babe,” he grinned, pushing your hair out of your shoulder. He brushed his thumb over the skin of your neck, staring intently at it. “I may or may not have left some
” he trailed off. “...marks.”
You gasped, sitting up with a jolt and hitting his chest. “Jeon Wonwoo!”
Wonwoo simply grinned, propping himself on his elbow as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“The girls are gonna see that and know that we had sex!”
He shrugged. “They’ll probably just say something like, ‘About damn time’, you know?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re annoying,” you said, standing up at once and heading for the bathroom. Wonwoo followed behind you, draping an arm around your shoulder and then kissing the side of your head.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said, chuckling lightly.
“No, do it again,” you said sheepishly, looking away. “Just
 not where people can see it.”
You peeked at Wonwoo’s face and saw him sporting a massive grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
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From the start of your official relationship, things shifted dramatically. Wonwoo was completely different from his usual aloof self. He’d be all over you—holding your hand, lying on your lap, hugging you from behind, anything as long as he was attached to you. He’d hold your hand even when the two of you were quietly reading books—a habit he eventually picked up from you after your constant attempts to get him to read an actual physical book made of paper.
Your dorm room, as always, was the prime spot for these intimate moments. He’d lazily wrap his arms around you, leaning in to steal kisses when you least expected it. The guy who once seemed indifferent now craved your touch.
When hanging out with friends, it was no different. Wonwoo would always reach for you without looking because he knew you’d always be within his reach. He would casually intertwine his fingers with yours, or simply place a hand on your thigh. It was so second nature that he did it once to Hoshi by mistake, his hand absentmindedly landing on Hoshi’s knee while he played a game. Hoshi, immediately recognizing his chance to mess with him, leaned his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, pretending to cuddle closer.
Still blissfully unaware, Wonwoo absentmindedly reached up and cupped Hoshi's cheek, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.
“Man, I didn’t realize you were this clingy,” Hoshi teased, leaning into the warmth.
Wonwoo blinked, his brain catching up, and when the realization hit, he let out a horrified gasp, retracting his hand so quickly it was like he'd been burned. “Hoshi, what the—!” he stammered, scooting away from him as far as possible.
Across the room, you were in stitches laughing with the rest of your friends, watching the whole thing unfold.
“Babe,” Wonwoo called out to you, almost desperately, making a beeline toward where you sat. The sudden, affectionate tone in his voice had everyone cringing.
“I could never get used to this,” Jun said, shaking his head with exaggerated disbelief
“I hate it when they call each other that,” Seokmin added with a mock grimace. “Like, okay, you’re not single and lonely. We get it.”
Wonwoo pouted as he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you like a child seeking comfort. “I missed you,” he mumbled dramatically into your shoulder, sending another wave of exaggerated groans through your friends.
You playfully tapped his forehead. “I’m like five steps away.”
“That’s five steps too far,” he said, all mock seriousness, burying his face into the crook of your neck while the others looked away in mock disgust.
Moments like this had become common now, where he let little things slip that showed just how much he cared. Yet, he still clung to his old habit of feigning indifference, as though denying his feelings made it easier to hide how deeply he’d fallen for you. But it was all in good fun, and you found it adorable when he would switch back to his aloof, “too cool” personality just to see you smile.
Despite the teasing, you liked this new side of him. It felt good knowing Wonwoo was willing to show both you and your friends a part of himself that not everyone got to see. Your relationship had leveled up, and it was evident not just in the way he acted but in the ease you felt together now
“Can we go back to when the only simp in this friend group was her?” Jill asked, pointing at you. “Wonwoo’s giving me the creeps.”
Feigning offense, you placed your hands on your hips and said, “Wow, okay. Sue me for being drop-dead gorgeous and having a boyfriend who’s head-over-heels with me. Whatever.”
“Don’t listen to them, babe. Jealous friends are fake friends,” said Wonwoo, covering your ears and kissing the side of your head.
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“He was perfect. The best boyfriend one could ever ask for, except for the part where he didn’t believe in love. Actually, that didn’t even matter in the long run because he was still such a great guy,” you recounted, sighing contently as you gazed at the horizon, the warm colors of the sunset painting the sky. “I had never met anyone like him again. I don’t think I will.”
Next to you, Seungcheol furrowed his brows slightly, the confusion evident on his face. “If he was so perfect—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you interjected, turning to him with your palm raised. “There was no ‘if.’ Wonwoo is perfect.”
“No, hear me out,” he insisted, grabbing your hand and gently putting it down. “If he was so perfect, why did you break up?”
You retracted your hand and glared at him, pretending to be offended. “It is, what it is.”
“What does that mean in this context?”
“It means, we were just not for each other,” you said, shrugging in acceptance. “He was lovely and perfect, and all that. But—You know, I read somewhere that we were all created in pairs, and that we were put in this Earth to be with that one person—our pair.”
“Polyamorous people are not gonna like it when they hear that,” he shot back, a teasing grin on his face.
You tutted, shaking your head. “Listen!” Narrowing your eyes at him, he mimed zipping his lips, letting you continue. “As much as I wanted Wonwoo, we weren’t the perfect match.”
“Okay, I get it,” he replied, nodding thoughtfully. “So how did it end?”
You let out a heavy sigh then flattened your lips together in a tight smile. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the whole time I was telling the story, I never once mentioned anything about us fighting.”
Seungcheol’s face lit up in realization.
“That’s because we’ve never had a fight. Not even once,” you added. And somehow, that was everything.
How did it end?
It wasn’t anything grand, much like how you got together in the first place. Wonwoo continued to be a great boyfriend, one you could always boast about. Your friends were envious of such a perfect relationship—one where your man was obsessed with you and adored you to death, not to mention good-looking and smart. He was a catch.
Wonwoo had a quiet patience that made it easy to handle your boundless energy. When you’d burst into a room excited, full of chatter, he would always listen with a soft smile, never overwhelmed by your liveliness. He didn’t need to match your enthusiasm; his calm presence was enough.
And you understood him just as well. You knew when he was getting tired, even when he tried to hide it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Like when he’d sit a little closer than usual or his fingers would linger on your arm. That’s when you’d ease up, toning things down without him needing to say a word. You were attuned to his subtle cues, a silent understanding between the two of you that others rarely noticed.
But Wonwoo wasn’t just passive; he knew how to take care of you, too. When your stress bubbled over, he’d pull you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, whispering words of comfort so softly they barely broke the silence. You’d feel the tension melt away in those moments, reassured just by being close to him.
“I hate dental checkups,” you complained, slumping on Wonwoo’s bed the moment you entered their dorm room. 
You had just arrived from a dentist appointment and had to have your teeth cleaned as a regular procedure. Wonwoo sat in front of his computer, eyes fixed on the game he was playing, but he was listening to you.
“Was it bad?” he asked, fingers moving rapidly on the keys and eyes darting left and right as he focused on the screen before him.
“It was! I forgot it was time for a cleaning procedure, so I went there totally unprepared. I didn’t get to meditate and mentally prepare myself for the torture. It was awful,” you grumbled, burying your face in the sheets.
“Come here,” he called, glancing only briefly at you.
You walked towards him with a slouched back, sitting on his lap and burying your face in his neck.
“It can’t be helped, it’s not like you can just neglect your teeth. You did a great job back there,” he murmured, his voice gentle and comforting. “I hate dentist appointments too.”
You lifted your head and peeked at his face. “Right? It’s the worst.”
He hummed. “I can’t even last two minutes on that table without gagging. It’s a nightmare.”
“Really?” you asked, surprised to learn something new about him. “You know, I don’t have a gag reflex.”
Wonwoo cocked an eyebrow, finally meeting your gaze just as the unmistakable sound of ‘Victory’ echoed from his headphones. “Really now? Should we put that mouth to use then?”
You gasped, covering your mouth dramatically at how incredibly attractive he sounded. The atmosphere shifted, a sultry heat igniting the air between you.
“What? You didn’t tell me that just to brag about it, did you?” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk.
At this point, you were sure your panties were already on the floor. “Jeon Wonwoo, you hot specimen of a man,” you said, lunging at him with an urgent kiss.
Your relationship was not only built on mutual respect and adoration but also on an undeniable passion. As your lips met, you could feel that familiar spark, igniting something deep within you.
And despite his usual laid-back attitude, Wonwoo would go along with your plans. You’d drag him to social gatherings with friends, where he might seem indifferent, but you knew better. His hand always found yours under the table, and though he stayed quiet, the squeeze of his fingers let you know he was happy to be there—just because you were.
Even when you coaxed him to take breaks from gaming or studying, he’d give you that knowing look, letting you win every time. “Alright,” he’d say with a sigh, but the way he let you guide him outside for fresh air told you he enjoyed the break more than he’d ever admit.
Yet, as you basked in these moments, a thought nagged at you, echoing in the back of your mind. You turned to Wonwoo, breathtakingly handsome in the golden light of the sunset. 
“Babe,” you began, “did you know we never had a fight yet? Not even about the smallest things.”
His brow furrowed slightly, realizing the truth in your question. Then he looked at you curiously. “I didn’t realize. Isn’t that a good thing?”
You pondered his response. “I think it is, but it’s weird, isn’t it? Why don’t we fight? Couples fight all the time. Look at Hosh and Mina.”
Wonwoo shrugged, taking a bite out of his churro. “Maybe because we don’t let small things get in the way of our relationship?”
“Hmmh. We understand each other so well, don’t we?” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know why, but somehow, I can’t help but think that maybe it’s too easy. Like we never challenge each other or have those deep conversations.”
“We have deep conversations all the time.”
“You’re right, but not because of a fight,” you stated in a matter-of-factly tone.
Wonwoo frowned, and you could sense the wheels turning in his mind. Then he hummed, and said, “It does make you wonder if we’re really communicating or just avoiding issues.”
What he said struck a chord with you. Days turned into weeks, and the questions loomed larger with each passing moment. You began to notice the cracks beneath the surface of your perfect relationship. The playful teasing became tinged with seriousness, and the easy laughter felt strained at times.
You pondered over the conversations with Mina and your other friends about love and relationships, and it began to dawn on you: What if what you have was limiting your growth instead of nurturing it? What if you had mistaken stagnation and decay for safety and comfort?
One evening, you and Wonwoo sat in your dorm room, the atmosphere cozy as you both worked on separate assignments. He was focused on his computer, while you scribbled notes on a notepad. You glanced at him, the familiar sight of his concentrated expression making your heart flutter. It was in these moments that you felt most at peace. And then came the thought that you couldn’t seem to shake: How could something so good not be enough?
“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. Wonwoo looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us.”
He tilted his head, taking in your every word. “What’s on your mind?”
“Remember when we talked about how we’ve never fought at all?” you began, fidgeting with your pen.
Wonwoo hummed, nodding.
“Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and
” you paused to sigh, biting your lower lip to prevent the words from spilling out of your mouth. You knew it had to be said, that it was necessary to see if you should continue moving forward or move on with your lives.
Wonwoo reached for your face, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had rolled down your cheek. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”
Your lips turned downward, trying your best to hold back your tears. “But isn’t that avoiding the issue too?”
He chuckled lightly, pulling you toward him in a tight embrace. “It is but, isn't it better than saying things that will only hurt each other’s feelings?”
“What do you mean?” you asked, nuzzling against his chest.
Wonwoo was patting your back in a slow, soothing rhythm, calming your nerves and helping keep your tears at bay. “I know what you’re thinking, baby. I’ve been thinking about it too. And it’s okay, it can’t be helped. Maybe it’s for the best too.”
You exhaled sharply before letting yourself sob in his shirt, tears rolling down your face like a sudden downpour. Wonwoo tightened his hug, shushing you gently as he rubbed your back, muttering soft ‘it’s okay’s in your ear.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” you admitted, your voice cracking.
“Me neither,” he said softly, pressing a kiss on your head. “But I think we need to face the reality of our futures. Our paths are set to diverge anyway, even if we try to change it. It might be for the best if we part ways now, while we still have these great, happy memories of each other.”
You pulled away from his embrace, looking up at him with your tear-stained face. The thought of never laughing together again weighed heavily in your heart, but there was also a flicker of understanding that this was the right choice.
“Remember when we were in that seminar, and you asked me if I liked you?” you chuckled through your tears, the memory bringing a smile to your lips.
Wonwoo laughed, a soft sound that felt like a warm hug. “How could I forget? That was when I started falling for you.”
“Really?” you asked, eyes widening at his revelation. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as if he regretted telling you that. “No, but seriously?”
“Yes, yes,” he gave in. “You were so confident then. So straightforward and honest. I may have experienced having my heart skip a beat for the first time.”
“No way!” you giggled, snuggling into him. “Why were you pretending to be so nonchalant for a long time?”
“I kinda liked having you chase me around,” he admitted sheepishly. “Why? What were you gonna say about that day?”
You pulled back, sitting up. “Oh, I wanted to ask if you were gonna tell me to leave you alone that day before the professor came in and I cut you off.”
He scoffed, feigning indifference. “Well, I guess you know the answer to that now.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso while you looked up at him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replied in a heartbeat. “Love was worth a try with you.”
“I’m gonna remember you forever.”
“That’s quite a big promise, but okay. I’ll take you up on that.”
And you spent the rest of your college days in each other's embrace, dreading the inevitable but also accepting the reality of your future. Jeon Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air, the warmth of the early morning sun, a prelude to a beautiful song, and a sweet memory of your youth that would stay with you forever.
[fin]
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monzabee · 11 months ago
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what you do to me – lh44 (+18)
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Summary: The one where Lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.
Pairing: lewis hamilton x fwb!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! my boyfriend forced me to watch hellraiser the other day, and there was this one scene that i could just not thinking about so i wanted to write something inspired by it, and who better to write it about than sir lewis hamilton?? also, i reaaaallly wanted to write a friends with benefits thing and it was so much fun, i honestly wasn’t expecting. the title of this fic is actually a john legend song that i love and i think it fits the vibes for this fic, so please feel free to give it a listen if you're interested! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
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It’s a shame Lewis doesn’t spend more time in his Monte Carlo penthouse during the season because it’s a space he enjoys spending time in so much. He doesn’t mind being alone in his home – if anything, it’s refreshing after spending so much time being the focal point of so many cameras during the season. Also, technically, he is not alone he supposes; he has Roscoe to keep him company when he’s home, after all.
Coming home from a successful season is rewarding, he feels as if he’s deserved the rest he looks forward to. On the other hand, coming home from a not-so-successful season? Well he feels like shit – both mentally and physically. That is not to say that he doesn’t appreciate the time off, though, he is more than happy to not drive for weeks and just enjoy the winter break. Coming home is also always kind of bittersweet. He catches up with some of his friends he didn’t have time for during the season, his family who always support him through thick and thin, but most importantly he tries to make time for you and your
 well, arrangement.
He knows something is wrong the minute you reply to his text about him being home. A simple okay is not a response he is used to getting from you. Alas, he shakes off the unease and chalks it up to a hectic day on your end. The pitter patter of Roscoe’s paws on the hardwood floors is enough to distract him from the situation, given the fact that the puppy is impatient for his dinner and is looking at the driver with pleading eyes.
“Okay ‘Coe,” he mumbles as he motions the kitchen with his head, “let’s go.”
The way Roscoe wobbles towards the kitchen brings a small smile to Lewis’ face even though he is still hung up on your answer. After he’s done feeding the puppy, he decides to grab a quick shower to ease the tiredness that comes from a long travel day. The hot water cascading down from the rainfall shower does a good job of taking care of his sore muscles, and he is more than happy to stay under the warm water if it means the soreness will go away. That is until he hears banging coming from his front door. He has every intention of just ignoring the person on the other side of the door; however, as the knocks get more and more persistent, he gets out of the shower with a groan. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he marches towards the front door, and looks through the peephole only to end up opening the door quicker than he would’ve liked.
His voice is confused as he mumbles out, “Lovey?” But you just straighten up from your position of leaning against the wall and throw your bag on the floor as you push your way through his apartment and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches as you attempt to hide yourself in the crook of his neck, and he is not sure what he’s supposed to do with his hands for a moment. “Hey,” he calls out softly, “what’s wrong?”
You pull back slightly to look into his worried eyes, “Just kiss me.” Your voice comes out somewhere between a whisper and a sob, and you can see the hesitation in Lewis’ eyes, but you just pull him towards you as you press a soft kiss on his lips, “Please.”
“What happened?” He tries once again to get an answer from you, but you shut down his attempt as you press your lips against his once more, more assertive this time. And who is he to deny you your wishes? So, like the perfect gentleman he is, he reciprocates your kiss with a one of his own as he wraps his arms around you to signal you to jump. Thankfully, you are so tuned with each other that you end up jumping up anyway, and he picks you up as you wrap your legs around his hips. Closing the door, he starts walking back towards his bedroom as your lips start moving more frantically against his own. “Slow down,” he warns, pulling back to give both of you a chance to breathe, “we have all night.”
Whining at the loss of contact from his lips, and you let your dissatisfaction known by attempting to roll your hips against his bare stomach, “Don’t wanna.” There’s still a lingering sob in your voice, but it is more reflective of the neediness you feel now that you have him between your arms – and legs. Lewis lets his hands roam down towards your ass to give you a warning squeeze – a one, maybe you would’ve been threatened by it if you weren’t so lost in him at the moment. You try your best to ignore the look he gives you, one filled with sternness; so instead, you move your lips downwards towards Lewis’ neck with another roll of your hips. “I missed you.”
He stills the movement of your hips as he simultaneously releases an appreciative groan at the way your lips feel on his skin. “I missed you too, lovey.” He is careful as he approaches his bed and sits down on the plush mattress with you still in his arms. Wrapping a hand around your hair to tilt your head back so he can look into your eyes again, he attempts to keep himself from becoming hard from the mere prospect of you wrapping your body around his. His eyes search yours for answers as to your sour mood, “Tell me what’s wrong, bad day?”
“Try bad month,” you scoff, letting your hands slide over his, somehow, still damp torso. “You weren’t here,” you explain as you free yourself from his hold on your hair and take off your sweatshirt, “don’t wan’ to talk about it.”
“Well, I’m here now.” A sudden realisation that you are not wearing anything under your top comes to Lewis, and he has to mentally restrain himself from doing something rash. “Not wearing a bra?” He asks, one of his eyebrows raised.
You let out a confirming hum, “Not wearing any underwear either.” Giving him an innocent smile at the groan he gets out, you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, “Thought they’d get in the way.” His hands feel warm on your bare skin as he drags them up on your body to gently cup your exposed breasts, causing you to brace yourself by hanging onto his shoulder for support. Whining as you feel his thumb make contact with your sensitive nipple, you decide to pull him in for another kiss, mumbling a breathy, “Kiss me,” against his lips. 
He obliges your request, of course, but he doesn’t let you control the kiss like you would’ve liked to. Instead, he stops the kiss by gently biting down on your lip before you can deepen it. With a small pat to your hip, he mumbles, “Get up, let me see you.” The look he gives you is just so full of adoration that you have no other choice to get up from his lap with the slowest moves you can muster. His eyes never leave you when you take a step back so that he can see you, all of you, and with the small nod he gives you, you begin taking off your leggings and shoes. That’s the thing about Lewis – for someone who is in the spotlight most of their time, he loves watching. And it is not only limited to the bedroom, you realise, he watches you even when you are doing mundane things together, like grocery shopping or walking Roscoe, domestic things that couples do together. But you can’t think about that, no, because both of you agreed that this was only physical and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts away, you straighten up from your bent position only to find Lewis looking you with a much darker look in his eyes. He’s dangerous, when he looks like that, you realise, he could break you into pieces with just his words, and the worst part is that you’d absolutely let him. “Pretty girl,” he whispers into the distance between you, and you take the hand he extends towards you for him to pull you against himself. The feeling of his lips on your skin almost feel feverish, and you find yourself releasing a gasp. “You’re the prettiest girl ever, lovey.”
“Lewis,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving another open-mouthed kiss, this time closer to your lower belly. His voice does a good job of soothing your erratic mind, his arms envelope you as he promises, “Whatever it is I’m here now, tell me what you want.”
He does a good job of putting you on the spot, you think, but unlike your usual self, you don’t have the patience for teasing tonight. “I want you to fuck me,” your voice comes off stronger than before, but it wavers as you also add, “please.” The last word brings a small smirk to Lewis’ face, and you let out a shriek as he quickly throws you onto the bed. “You almost scared me to death,” you complain, pushing out your lower lip in a pout.
“You’ll be fine,” he lets out a breathy laugh while quickly getting rid of the towel still, miraculously, hanging on his hips. The smirk on his face grows as he watches you shamelessly checking him out, but he never breaks his gaze from yours when your eyes meet as he wraps a hand around his cock to jerk himself for a few times. You spread your legs to accommodate his body as he leans over your lying figure by using his free arm as support. Rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick slit a few times, you can feel his breathy chuckle hit your skin while his lips run over your jaw to leave small kisses. “You’re so wet for me,” he mumbles, and the whimper that leaves your lips when he makes a point to rub his tip over your clit wins another chuckle, “you’re gonna be good for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble as you nod frantically, “yes Lu, I’m gonna be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You try to tempt him by wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer – either you are successful and he gives in, or he is just as desperate to get inside you as you are desperate to feeling him because he complies with your movements as he nudges the tip of his cock into you in a slow push forward. The stretch is burning every single time, and usually he gives you enough time to accommodate his size before proceeding to fuck your brains out. But this time, he doesn’t waste any time as he pushes himself fully into you until he’s buried inside you to the hilt. The gasp you begin to let out turns into a silent scream as the feeling of being full consumes you, “Fuck, Lewis–”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you through the initial pain, “you’re alright, just breathe th for a bit.” And you do what he tells you to because
 well, you know he won’t do anything to hurt you. He brings his free hand towards your face to cup your cheek, which you respond by turning your head towards the warmness. “Tell me when the pain goes away,” he whispers against your skin – he finds he absolutely loves the way your skin flushes every single time he fucks you, and the thought makes him freeze for a second. Love? That is not something he should be thinking about, not especially when he’s buried inside you, because you both agreed–
Deciding to respond wordlessly, you press a soft kiss in the middle of Lewis’ palm, whilst also attempting to roll your hips, but then whining because of the additional pressure, “Please, Lewis, please move.”
That must’ve done the job of breaking Lewis out of whatever trance he was in, because once he hears your whiny voice pleading him to move, he starts thrusting his hip in and out of you in a rhythm that simply leaves you breathless in mere seconds. It’s the stress of the season, you think to yourself, but Lewis’ movements just get faster and deeper until he hits that one spot inside you that makes your whines turn into a scream and has you arching into him. You can’t see his reaction with your eyes fluttered close, but he stills his movements for a few moments as he looks at you as if you’re the most precious thing in his life. He waits until your erratic breathing to get back to normal before he starts rolling his hips against yours again, but this time the tempo he adopts is much slower, sensual, and almost
 too intimate for it to only be considered physical between the two of you.
Your eyes flutter open as you look at him with confusion, “Wha– What are you–?” But he only cuts you off by pressing his lips against you to swallow your question in a kiss. The slower tempo is surprisingly more pleasurable then his usual style that you’ve dubbed fast and furious, and every time his hips roll at a certain angle, he brushes your clit in a way that makes your feet curl in pleasure.
He is breathless when he pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, but then again, so are you. The way he seems to gaze into your eyes make your breath hitch, and if you thought that was Lewis showing his emotions, he decides to put them into words. “So good for me, lovey,” he moans, yes moans because one thing you’ve learned from the start is that real men moan, “you were made for me, weren’t you?” His accent gets thicker, which is a tell that he’s getting there, but he won’t let himself come before he makes sure you’re taken care of. “Look at how you’re taking me, reckon I can feel myself if I place my hand on your belly?” It makes him laugh when you whine as you attempt to slither your hand towards your stomach to test his theory, but one deep stroke of his hips and your arms envelope them around his shoulders to use him as a support. “Perfect, you’re just perfect for me, hm? My perfect, pretty, little girl.”
“Please,” you whimper out, the tears that form in the corner of your eyes threatening to fall, “I’m so close.” It’s been such an emotional day, and a shitty month that all you wanted was to be consumed by him –  and now that you have him in your arms, acting like you are more than just two friends who use each other for something so trivial and human as urges, you don’t want to let him go. Especially not when he makes you feel like you could love him for the rest of your life. Even if just the thought of it is enough to make your heart race. Needless to say, the sob you let out is unexpected on both of your ends, and you know he’s about to stop when he slows down even more, but you give him a stern look through your tears, “Don’t you dare stop.” You moan, loud enough for his neighbours downstairs to hear, once he picks up the pace again, but it’s still slow enough for it to be considered love making and not fucking by both of your standards.
He knows you’re close when your walls start clenching around him, which makes it much harder for him to compose himself. So, being the perfect gentleman he is, he starts rubbing your clit with one of his hands, his fingers work hard to bring you even more pleasure. He watches in amazement as you trash around under his body and as your whimpers and moans get louder gradually – until you are coming undone around him, starting to sob because of the pressure gets released in your tummy, that is. His hips still continue their languid movements, just like the faster movement of his fingers, as he fucks you through your release, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into your ear. Lewis does his best to kiss the tears that escape from your eyes, his breath fanning over your feverish skin.
“So good,” your moans get softer as you get calmer after a while, though your voice is still scratchy, “wanna feel you more, Lu.” Sliding your hand between your bodies to take his hand away from your clit, the loss of his touch makes you whine softly and he watches you in confusion while still continuing his movements slowly, but you see the way his eyes light up with a dark look when you wrap his fingers around your throat, and thankfully he understands the message as he tightens his hold just the way you like it. “Yeah, just like that,” you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. This time, it’s your turn to whisper praises riddled with encouragement, and you know it gets to him, because every single stroke his hips deliver end up making him fill you more and more, as if that was possible. The sobs coming from your lips transform into ones of pleasure, bringing Lewis closer and closer to his release.
“Look at me,” his voice is sharp, and it makes you immediately fix your eyes on his. There is an immense sense of wanting to please him, or rather make him proud within you, and he rewards you with a burning kiss that leaves you panting and wanting more as he spills himself into you. As he pulls away to moan out your name, his thumb dragging down your bottom lip. You gently bite down on his thumb while you manage to get out a satisfied moan, eyes closing ever so slightly as you feel him spill into you, and he keeps pulling you even closer to himself when he lets his body fall next to yours.
You have no idea how he manages to still stay inside you, but you can feel his lips pressing gentle kisses across your hairline, and brushing away the sweaty strands. “You feel better now, lovey?” Smiling at the tiredness dripping from his voice, you hum airily, a satisfied smile on your face while you move your neck to look at him.  “Good,” his whisper brushes your lips as he nudges the tip of your nose with his, earning a giggle from you while he wipes away the dry tears on your cheeks.
“Do you have to leave?” There is a whiny undertone to your question, and it makes him give you a gentle smile.
“Not for a while,” he assures you, then he presses his lips softly on yours in a small kiss, “I promise.”
He grabs your hand to weave his fingers through yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles as he keeps silent for a moment – because he knows at that moment, just because you asked, he’ll cancel every single plan he’s made, just to spend more time with you so that he can make you smile like that. “Until you get sick of me, that is.” Your tired laughter fills his ears until it is interrupted by a yawn. He carefully moves you so that he gently takes himself out of you, and rolls you sideways so he can wrap his arms around as he pulls you close to cuddle. “Go to sleep, lovey, we’ll talk in the morning,” he mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your bare shoulder. You close your eyes with a smile on your face, burying yourself into his chest as much as you can, and hear him mumble, “My lovey,” before promptly falling asleep.
You pretend you didn’t hear him in the morning because the arrangement the two of you made was about keeping things causal.
But you respond by squeezing his hand three times in return anyway.
And he responds.
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jinxs-gf · 4 months ago
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The Human Spider
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The Team x Spider!Reader
summary: you are this universe’s one and only spider-person.
warnings/content: set before the 1st episode of young justice s1, a few marvel references, this whole thing is from the perspective of the reader who’s basically Spider-Man so the writing is a bit silly
but I like it
word count: 2.1k
a/n: this is essentially an introduction to this world, I’m really hoping I can pop a couple fics within this little universe đŸ˜­đŸ™đŸœ if not then
I’m sorry LMAO. only time will tell. ENJOY!!!
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Life was good.
I mean, how could it not be? You got to fight side by side with some of Earth's greatest heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash...oh and Black Canary and—
Yeah. It was great. Not to mention how incredibly easy it was for you to defeat the bad guys you'd fought. You definitely didn't have four near death experiences because of them!
Well you did, but they were completely your fault and not at the hands of a couple of phony villains. They happened before you got used to your powers and gone through extensive training.
It seemed like a curse at first, but now you take them with stride. Your super strength foreign as you'd broke nearly everything in your apartment (that hadn't been a fun thing to explain to your Aunt and Uncle when they came home to a trashed place). Sticky hands well...getting stuck to literally everything. The amount of money you spent replacing your clothes after accidentally ripping up your whole closet only trying to get ready for school...that was also not fun explaining to your guardians.
And the webs. Oh boy. You didn't want to think about it. The hole in your wrist that shot out webs like a proper spider freaked you out the most. You nearly turned yourself in to the government after that one. It was something that took the most mental work to control, the weird hole (yuck) closing up when you didn't need it.
The one thing you did appreciate immediately was the abs. Yeah, those were nice to wake up to one morning.
Today was just another day in your life. A simple mission happening in the middle of the city. Actually it was a pretty unusual mission, it wasn't the regular Ice Family or Joker cult you were fighting...but a Rhino. Seemingly a man in a Rhino cosplay. And his henchmen? Definitely not something you see everyday, but you have seen weirder.
Speaking of his henchmen...there was a lot of them. Enough to keep each member of the team occupied. They had insanely advanced weaponry, surprisingly keeping the fight going for a while.
You hadn't realized so many of the guys were on you now, all surrounding you and trying to shoot at you with guns that weren't spitting out regular bullets.
You look to your side and see your best friend (he doesn't think so but that's what you tell everyone so deal with it sucker). Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, Roy Harper under the mask, and Pain in the Ass (a nickname you'd affectionately given him) to you.
You were in a compromising position, one that you could easily get yourself out of. But now you've spotted an unoccupied Roy and you wanted to have a little fun admist the chaos.
"Hey pain in my ass! A little help here!" The men were now taking shots with their fists, all failing to land their hits of course. And your best friend had completely ignored you.
"Hellooooo you know I'm talking to you!"
"I told you I wouldn't answer when you called me that. And I thought I made myself very clear." Definitely referring to the embarrassing way he took you down in front of the team after harassing him all week with the nickname a month ago.
"Well you answered right now soo...."
An arrow suddenly flew right past you, nearly grazing your cheek. A couple more followed.
"Um hello?! You nearly took me out!"
"That's my way of saying cut it out while saving your ass. And don't your spidey senses detect that kind of stuff? Danger and threats? You should've seen them coming."
"Huh. Guess you aren't as threatening as you think you are. At least not with that silly little hat on."
He simply glared at you. He was definitely going to kick your ass later. (Again).
With your guys dealt with, you turned to watch as Flash and Kid Flash emptied out a school bus on the road. Well, watched was a strong word. The job was done before you could fully process what was happening.
And suddenly that same school bus was being throw your way by the Rhino-man. Directly above your head actually.
Uh oh.
CRASH!
This was the third time that's happened to you this week!
He had good aim, you'll admit. It landed on you perfectly, but thanks to your incredible strength he seemingly didn't know about (how could he not? You're literally the Spider-Person from tv! Spider-Person...pfft what a stupid name. No one seemed to come up with something better), the biggest indicator to this being his shocked face. Oh how you loved that look. You threw it right back at him. Jokes on Rhino-man, you also had incredible aim.
"It's gonna take a lot more than a school bus to take me out!" Although you could feel the nearly broken rib and bruises you'd need to get checked out before you went home today.
You sighed happily, dusting your hands, "light work to me. Maybe try one of those city buses next time? Might be heavier and more effective-"
The words barely left your mouth before a city bus was being throw at you, "Wait I didn't actually mean it!" You caught the bus this time. And although your senses knew the danger was coming, it was still a bus that caught you off guard with its weight. Your legs and arms quivered at the force of having to hold it up, you could feel every bruise spotted on your body with the strain and it was not fun. While your body healed faster than the average human, it definitely wasn't fast enough to recover from the previous hit.
The back of the bus was fully tipped to the sky. You prayed there was no one in this thing. And sure you were strong, but there was no way you could tip it back on its wheels without potentially hurting someone.
Luckily Superman helped you with that, seeing you struggle. He easily took it off your hands (show off) and maneuvered it so it was placed safely back on the road.
"Thanks Supes!" He gave a nod and his famous smile.
It was only a couple more minutes of fighting and cars being thrown around before the whole thing was wrapped up. The adults would give their words to the police and news reporters, blah blah blah...
While they did that, you and your best friends, the teens (the cooler ones) got together like you always did after a mission.
Superman is being interviewed by the infamous Lois Lane (the talk of the teen team, there was definitely tension there).
All while Wally stands a little behind them making faces and ridiculous poses for the camera. The rest of you stood out of shot either cackling or rolling your eyes.
Wally steps back, clearly offended. "What? All he's doing is flirting with her in front of a live audience. Remember what they said last time? No one's gonna be paying attention to me."
Robin snickers, "What? The whole 'no one can take Superman' 'but you sure can'?" He repeats their words in poorly done impressions.
"That was totally an innuendo!"
"Very mature KF."
"Hey! Robin and Spider laughed with me. And I saw Speedy’s smirk, he sat there trying to pretend he didn't find it funny. Maybe you should get that stick out of your ass, Aqualad?"
Roy, completely serious, replies, "Now that's no way to talk to the adults' favorite."
You perk up, "oh, me?"
Your friends immediately explode into disagreement, apparently in disbelief you'd think such a thing.
It was a simple story, how it all came to be. You got bit by a spider (totally cool about it).
Totally didn't scream your ass off because of it and stay paranoid the rest of the day, constantly thinking there was a creepy crawler on you...no. You found out the next day that you weren't actually paranoid—if you were in the first place, which you were not! Because apparently the spider had camped out in your clothes all day and night...
You totally didn't scream your ass off again that morning at the revelation.
You did scream at the sight of abs on your body that same morning though. And that's the only reason you'll ever thank the spider, forget the cool powers.
After that you thought it would be cool to use your powers for good, inspired by your uncle. You decided to have your own cool hero costume, symbol, and name (which you still haven't gotten. You originally thought of the Human Spider. People on the streets called it dumb, claiming they would not be calling you that). You had (unfortunately) been (TEMPORARILY!) named the Spider-Person. Which was insanely stupid and you needed to come up with something quick before it stuck completely. Maybe the Human Spider wasn't so good but it wasn't as bad as your unofficial name now!
Anyways, as for the cool hero costume. You had to use what you had at the time, which was...your normal clothes. Getting a costume online seemed cheap, and dressing up as an existing character in the media and saving people seemed wrong. It would only deny your identity as a hero. So you put on whatever clothes (mostly colorful pajamas) that you had, covered the bottom half of your face with a bandanna, and called it a night. And boy did that get you a lot of ridicule, but you got the job done, right? The only thing it didn't do was protect your body from scrapes and...stab wounds. You hated little knives.
You're not the smartest in the world and it's not like you had the money someone like Bruce Wayne could pull out of their ass and make cool superhero wear.
Once you were recruited by Batman, he gave you your own hero costume—no, suit. Every suggestion you made was followed. It was perfect. The mask had to be your favorite part though. Something you didn't suggest was the some type of magic on it, something called hammerspace. Basically you could have any type of hair, or ears...probably even a pair of headphones on your head and it won't show through. It'll seemingly disappear to this hammerspace (you weren't sure how it worked exactly, but it works nonetheless so you won't question it). The magic was done by a team member who was needed very rarely named Zatara. Another man with a silly hat on his head.
You attempted to try it with Batman to see if his bat ears would disappear (which was completely encouraged by Robin by the way. No- completely his idea!) He was not happy. (You got benched for a month...no patrols, no missions...and Robin got off scott-free! How was that fair?!)
Wally starts to bring up your part of the fight, specifically the bus incident.
"Hey isn't that the third time that's happened to you this week?"
You sigh, exasperated and playing it up, "yes."
Robin butts in before you could say anything more, "Couldn't you have caught them? Y'know with your spidey senses and incredible strength?" He has the nastiest smirk on his face. His smartass totally figured you out.
"Well yeah, duh. But it's fun seeing the looks on the bad guys' faces when they realize I'm not dead and I can carry a however many pound bus! Is that so bad?"
"No but it's embarrassing for us."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Yeah, our best friend who's powers include crazy senses that gives them insane reflexes? That best friend can't catch a big, yellow bus being thrown at them? Embarrassing." The one time Roy will take the claim as your best friend is when he's insulting you? Unsurprising.
Kaldur cut in, sensing your defense a mile away, "It is pretty shameful of you."
Your jaw dropped, even Kaldur of all of people was agreeing? Oh this is insane!
You point a figure at your friends, trying to get your threat across, "Well I find that incredibly offensive and you should all take that back before I-"
"Isn't the point of your powers to detect danger before it comes? How come that's the third time this week you've been hit by a school bus? It's embarrassing, Spider." Batman's monotone voice made his words all the more insulting. Your frown deepened.
You sigh, "Yup. Real embarrassing for me. I got that."
"No, embarrassing for me. I've got a reputation to keep up."
He walks away without another word.
"I can't tell if he was trying to joke around like you guys were, but I'm still offended."
"He was being dead serious. And for the record, so were we."
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I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic. I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics
??
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azzibuckets · 3 months ago
Note
Hey!! I was wondering if you could write a fic of Azzi being at Paige’s families lake house? Idk if you saw the photo or not but I feel like this could be a cute fic!
seven years in the works [pazzi]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: something little to tide you guys over while i work on my next series! masterlist
word count: 700? idk
“You fit in so well.” Azzi’s looking at the sunset, admiring the way the soft pinks and blues cast a haze over the lake, but the warmth of hands sliding across her stomach and the weight of a chin on her shoulder makes her turn around and stare at something she thinks is even more beautiful.
“Hmm?” she murmurs, not quite understanding what her best friend is talking about but not really caring when she looks like this. Paige is in a simple red shirt, hair messily tied into a low bun, but the way the falling sunlight brings out the blue in her eyes and the glimmer in her smile has her wondering if this could be their forever.
“With my family,” Paige specifies, hands roaming across Azzi’s body and pulling her body closer. “They love you, you know.”
“What can I say?” Azzi smirks. “I guess all Bueckers have a thing for me.”
“And you’re gonna be one soon.” Paige smooths Azzi’s hair out of the way before starting to kiss a trail down the younger girl’s neck, smirking to herself at how Azzi shivers at the contact. Azzi giggles, hands snaking her way into Paige’s hair before she registers what exactly her girlfriend’s just said. “Excuse me?” she says indignantly, letting go of the blonde and taking a step back. “You’re taking my last name.”
Paige looks mildly offended. “But my nickname is Paige Buckets.”
“Well, Azzi Bueckers just doesn’t sound right.”
Paige grabs Azzi’s wrist, desperate for physical contact after only a few seconds of separation. “What about Bueckers-Fudd?” she offers.
Azzi grimaces. “That would be kinda long on the back of our jerseys.”
“We could keep our own last names?”
Azzi scowls, a dark look overtaking her face. “You might as well return the ring.” Paige opens her mouth to start another round of arguing, but they’re called into the house before she can say anything. The family’s gathered in the den watching a movie, and Paige plops down, easily pulling Azzi down onto her lap before the younger girl can even blink.
“Paige,” Azzi says. “There’s open seats.”
“Don’t care.” Paige’s face is already buried into the fabric of Azzi’s sweater, her hold on Azzi’s hips tight. “Want you.”
“I’m 6 feet tall, I’m not sitting in your lap.”
“5’11, but okay,” Paige cackles. But she adjusts Azzi’s legs so that only the upper half of her body is lying on the older girl. Looking down at Azzi’s face, she smiles, running her fingers gently along her scalp. “Better?” Azzi hums, grabbing Paige’s hand to fold it with hers and bringing it to her mouth for a kiss.
“You guys make me sick,” Paige hears one of her cousins remark, but she’s not sure which one because she doesn’t look up from Azzi’s face. She only sends a middle finger in their general direction, earning her a slap from her best friend.
“Azzi, come play Fortnite with us,” one of the younger ones call out.
“She can’t, she’s busy,” Paige tells back, pressing a soft kiss to the wrinkle on Azzi’s forehead, but Azzi only rolls her eyes. Pushing off Paige, she gets up and saunters over to the little kids. “Sure I can,” she agrees. Paige grits her teeth, deciding to follow after the girl.
“Come on, guys,” Paige pleads. “You guys played with her at the lake for hours this morning. Aren’t you tired of her?”
“Don’t be so selfish,” Drew reprimands his sister. “You get her for nine months a year.” He grabs Azzi’s hand and pulls her down into one of the beanbag chairs, offering her a Wii controller. Azzi takes it, shooting Paige a sly grin that she knows will get her in trouble later but hey.
Paige glowers at her little brother. “I can put you in a plane right now and send you home, don’t even play.”
“Don’t talk to Drew like that,” Azzi defends, turning to the 11 year old to dap him up.
“Bruh,” Paige complains. She sidles up to the beanbag and tries to plop herself down next to Azzi, but gets shoved to the floor instead. “You’re too big,” Azzi laughs before turning her attention to the TV screen. Sulking, Paige gets up from the floor, rubbing her butt and looking for something to do.
“You’re so pussy whipped,” Lauren informs her cousin once Paige makes her way into the kitchen. “But I understand. Azzi’s amazing.”
“I’m not making you one of my bridesmaids anymore,” Paige mutters.
Lauren tosses Paige a sparkling water. “When you gonna pop the question?”
“Azzi wants to focus on college, so definitely not until after she gets drafted. Even then, I’m not sure. I don’t want to distract her during her rookie year, you know?” Paige glances at Lauren, and even though Paige is always poised and confident, her cousin knows her too well, can detect the nerves underlying her voice.
“Paige.” Lauren runs a soothing hand across Paige’s shoulder. “If you keep letting outside stuff dictate your decisions, you’re never gonna get married. If you love her, then ask her.”
Paige rubs a hand across her face. “I just wanna make it perfect. She deserves it.”
“I’m being 100% honest when I say that you could propose to her at a McDonald’s and that girl would still look at you like you’re the moon and stars and everything beautiful in this world.”
“But don’t.” Paige and Lauren turn around at the same time. Azzi’s leaning against the doorway, but she pushes off to press a kiss against Paige’s nose. “Don’t you dare propose to me at a McDonald’s.”
Paige blushes furiously. “How much of that did you hear?”
Azzi grins. “Enough.” Lauren takes that as a signal, and she leaves the room, giving the two their privacy. “Hey.” Azzi cups Paige’s face in her hands, tilting her chin so that they’re making eye contact. “I mean, this has been, what, seven years in the works? Don’t stress about it.”
“I know, I just-” Paige is cut off by a kiss to the lips, and when Azzi pulls away there’s that dazed look in her eyes she always gets whenever Azzi touches her.
“I told you, I don’t need you stressing out over me. You already have so much shit going on. I’m supposed to be your safe place. Okay?”
“Okay,” Paige concedes. Azzi presses another chaste kiss to her lips. “You gonna go back to playing Fortnite now?”
“Nah.” Azzi tilts her head outside. “Wanna catch the last of the sunset?”
Paige’s answer is immediate. “Anything you want.”
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princessbrunette · 6 months ago
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can u maybe write a fic where hyper fem shy reader has had like - the biggest crush on rafe since forever? Like it’s sooo painfully obvious in the way she blushes when he simply looks at her or does what he says, or takes his advice on how she should dress or who she should and should not be friends with. She literally hangs on his every word and when the kooks are like “hey what do you think about [enter subject]” she legit just looks to rafe because she always agrees with him. He lowkey knows about her crush and rafe is evil enough, at least in my opinion, to extort that and enjoy it.
(՞ Üž. .ܾ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ʁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰
you had a crush on rafe and everyone knew it.
from the way you’d hold onto his every word, staring through your lashes with wide eyes at the simplest of stories, or giggle a little too loudly at every boyish joke he’d come up with — it was clear you were head over heels. too shy to make a move, sure — but almost just as happy to pine in peace. rafe knew this, it was abundantly clear — but he’d enjoyed having a sweet girl following him around like a lost puppy. in a sick and selfish way, it made him look good so he let it happen.
you hung onto the little moments, small victories in which rafe would give you the time of day. you still remember the time you walked up to the usual group you hung out with at the country club, rafe included and he’d turned to you, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes roam your form.
“hi.” you’d smiled simply as the rest of the group greet you, one of the other girls handing you a chute of expensive champagne — someone clearly celebrating something that day. rafes eyes lingered on your outfit. a small white lacy tube top with a matching white skirt and shoes. he places his bottle on the table and reaches towards you, fixing the small ribbon at the bust of your top. you freeze, eyes sliding up to his face in awe, watching the way the corner of his mouth tugs into the tiniest of smirks.
“i like this.” the compliment is simple, but you feel your body heat up regardless.
“yeah?” you smile sweetly and he nods, a small faux serious pout turned friendly grin before he was turning back to his friends and contributing to the conversation once more. you continued to watch him until one of your girlfriends nudged you, giving you a knowing smile.
another moment worth noting might be later on in the week, topper discussing an invite they’d received to a party thrown by someone they didn’t like too much. he turns to you, mid debate with his friends — involving you.
“look, what do you think? is it worth going to this party? i say a parties a party and if anyone starts their shit we beat their ass— but hey maybe that’s just me!” he lifts his hands up, the group erupting into debate. you stand quietly, before turning your head to look up at rafe sweetly, waiting for his input. he notes this, before stepping up closer beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“she knows we don’t fuck with them like that alright — don’t try n’loop her into your desperate tactics. you want a party? i’ll throw a fuckin’ party.” he shrugs, making the group swiftly agree, bursting into conversation as rafe looks down at you, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt collar. “don’t let this guy talk you into shit. you’re not goin’ to that party, trust me. come to mine instead.” and just like that — as usual, the moment is over as quickly as it starts but you still hold onto it, smiling uncontrollably at the fact he had his arm around you for even a moment.
(՞ Üž. .ܾ՞) 𝜗𝜚 ʁ ˖ ◜ ♩ 🐰
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afterglowsainz · 6 months ago
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guilty as sin? | oscar piastri
summary: you and oscar can't be together, but that doesn't stop either of you from wanting each other
warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation
word count: 2k
a/n: this song is my hyperfixation rn! also, i don't write smut (which is not what this is) but i had to include the last part of the fic, the nature of the song forced me to!
the tortured athletes department series
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everyone and their mother knew that you and oscar liked each other, but things were never that simple between the two of you.
oscar being an f1 driver for mclaren in his second year and you being a pr manager for f1, dating within the workplace was a complete no; besides the fact that it just made things more complicated than they had to be, it was also forbidden by your boss. that and also the fact that the two of you were too proud to be the first one to give in, so neither of you did. it was a bit immature, sure, but it was what it was.
so since you couldn’t be together, the only way to fight the feeling was simply date other people, and you both did that well. for oscar it was easy because he usually just went back to his ex, which made you extremely jealous because she was the only woman you thought you couldn’t compare to, they had years of history, and you were the relatively new girl, how could you stand up against her? easy, you couldn’t, or so you thought. finding someone for you wasn’t hard either, unlike oscar, you didn’t date the same person the whole time because you didn’t have an ex, so you just picked a boy of the month and made oscar jealous, which was quite easy because oscar got jealous of every guy who even looked at your direction.
at this moment, at the after-party of the miami grand prix, it was one of those rare moments where none of you were dating and you were both single, but still, not together. you had to admit you’ve been drinking shots of vodka since you arrived at the place and haven’t stopped since, which made you a bit tipsy but not drunk. you were on your way out of the bathroom when you accidentally slipped on a wet patch at the club’s floor and you had to lean on the person closest to avoid falling.
“oh.” a small shocked sound came out of you. “sorry, i’m sorry.” you apologized to the person next to you, who put his arms around your waist to avoid you from falling.
“it’s okay.” you hear your favorite voice in the world and look up to see his face close to you.
“hey.” you smile.
“hello.” he answers with his beloved australian accent.
“didn’t see you there.” you look at your surroundings, the bathroom was in the dark side of the club and not many people were around
“yeah, i was hiding.” he admits. you nod in understanding.
“alone?” you arch your brow after not seeing any of his friends nearby.
“i just need a second.”
you nod again. oscar can get overwhelmed very easily so you knew what he needed.
“have you been drinking?” he asks now. you avoid his eyes, focusing on the people dancing in front of you.
“yeah.” you admit. “that’s not why i almost fell though, the floor is wet.” he chuckles and nods with a smile. “have you?”
“just a little, not much.” you turn to look at him and it was now him who was avoiding your gaze. “where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.
right. you forgot to tell oscar that you broke up with the last guy you were seeing. it was stupid, really, you just didn’t like the way he dressed, he wore skinny jeans and hoodies most of the time and that irritated you for some reason. he was also not oscar.
“we’re not together anymore.” you say waiting for a reaction which you get.
“oh?” he asks, arching his brow and looking back at you. his expression however, stays the same.
a scary thought crosses your mind and you feel sick almost thinking of it, but now that you thought of it you can’t forget it, so you just ask.
“did you get back with lily?” you wait for what it feels like an eternity for his answer, but it only really takes him about three seconds to respond.
“no, we’re not together.”
you felt like breathing out all the air in your lungs in relief, but you didn’t out of respect.
“nice.” you say instead, which earns oscar another chuckle.
“yeah.” he says simply.
you stand by each other in silence, just watching the people around you not having a single care in the world. like it was a gravitational force pulling you to him, you started getting closer and closer until your hands were touching each other. you were feeling bold that night, bold enough to maybe make the first move. when you felt his finger rubbing against your hands you snap your head to look at him, but before you could talk you hear a male voice interrupting you.
“y/n”. they called you.
at lightning speed, oscar gets away from you and you feel like punching the person who interrupted you. when you turn you see the face of one of your best friends who also happens to work in formula 1.
“just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” he says. “you left a few minutes ago.”
you smile at him like you internally didn’t want to kill him.
“all good.” you answer. “just catching up with oscar here.” you tilted your head towards the australian until your friend finally noticed him.
he looks a bit shocked when he realizes he interrupted you.
“hi mate, how are you?” he asks him, a bit shy, trying to play it cool. oscar just smiles slightly at him.
“all good.” he looks at your friend and then back to you. “well i should get back with them.” he tilts his head towards lando and some of the other drivers.
you couldn’t think of anything fast enough to make him stay, so you just nodded. he said his goodbyes and left you two alone.
“mate!” you finally recriminate your friend and playfully slapped his arm.
the laugh that erupted from him was a mix between amusement and regret.
“i’m sorry!” he apologized, taking you back towards your other friends through the club. “i didn’t know you were together, we were actually worried.”
“that’s fine.” you respond while rolling your eyes. “let’s just drink.”
you spent the next hour forgetting about the world around you and just drinking and dancing with your friends like it was the last night on earth. it was also pretty fair to say that you were already drunk at this point. not embarrassingly drunk, you could still stand on your feet and have a conversation without dragging your words, but you were definitely beyond the point of being sober.
“i have to go to the bathroom again.” you screamed at the ear of your friend and she nodded in understanding.
“do you want me to go with you?” she screamed back at you. you shook your head.
“i won’t take long.” she just nodded and let you go.
this time you weren’t planning on taking as long as it took you last time, you just wanted to go back to your friends as soon as possible to continue having fun. but just like the first time, the only person in the world that you wanted to be with was right there again, next to the bathroom exit and somehow hiding in the shadows, but this time you saw him.
“oscar!” you screamed over the music.
he snaps his head towards your face, always finding you in a room full of people. a smirk appears on his face as you approach him and you can tell by the look of him that he has also been drinking more.
“thought i wouldn’t see you for the rest of the night.” he whispers once you’re close enough.
you take your time to answer, just taking him in.
“hiding again?” you ask.
“too many shots.” he says. “needed to take a minute.”
you bite your lip shamelessly and he notices it, immediately wishing it was his instead. 
“oscar.” you smile and whisper his name.
“y/n.” he whispers back, his eyes fixated on your lips.
you mimic him and lower your eyes to his lips as well. since you were drunk and every ounce of shame left your body long ago, you’re bold enough to touch his chest, your hands traveling all the way to the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.
“oscar.” you whisper again, touching his cheeks, just wanting to feel him. “oscar.”
you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. your face inches away from his.
“y/n.” he whispers again.
you think that is gonna happen, it’s definitely gonna happen right here right now, but everything comes crumbling down when you feel a different pair of arms pulling you away from your waist.
“hey, there you are!” someone exclaims and the connection between you and oscar immediately breaks. “sorry mate, she gets touchy when she’s drunk.” the voice says and you instantly recognize it as one of the friends you came with.
“i’m not drunk!” you defend yourself, facing him with a frown on your face for ruining the moment.
“right.” he says incredulously. “she’s touchy all the time.” this was now directed at oscar.
you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs for having your moment with oscar ruined for the second time in the night, but you controlled yourself, allowing your friend to grab your back and direct you to your friends.
“bye, oscar.” you whisper, waving your hand slightly.
he doesn’t answer back, but you can see the strained smile on his face and the nod he gives you. when you’re far enough, you look at your friend with impotence.
“what the hell was that?” you yell. “didn’t you see i was busy?”
“that was me saving your ass.” he says without major emotion. “you were about to kiss oscar drunk and you and i both know that’s impossible.”
you sighed and crossed your arms like a little girl throwing a tantrum. working in formula 1 was hard, and trying to date in it was even harder, almost impossible.
“is it ever going to be easy?” you ask no one in particular, but your friend answers anyway.
“well, it’s you and oscar, so probably not.” you think about it for a few seconds until he interrupts your train of thought. “come on, we were leaving already.” he says.
you follow your friends to the exit of the club and get into the first uber that’s taking you back to the hotel. the trip doesn’t take long and you just chat with your friend for most of it. once in the hotel you say goodbye to everyone and go up to your room, trying to catch some sleep. 
it shouldn’t be hard to fall asleep considering that you’ve been working all day and you just spend hours at the club, however, there was one thing at the back of your mind that didn’t let you rest. you couldn’t shake the feeling of oscar’s hands in your body back at the club, almost cornering him into the wall, the two of you just feeling each other. you were frustrated for sure, tossing and turning in bed for an hour straight until you couldn’t fight the feeling anymore. 
you bit your lip for a moment, thinking if this was actually appropriate, but soon enough the intrusive thoughts took over your mind and you just think fuck it. 
you touch yourself that night with only one person in your mind, wishing it was him that was making you feel good, knowing that he would make you feel even better; you screamed his name when you climaxed. before you can think of what you just did you decide to go to bed as soon as possible, finally feeling tired enough to sleep.
ten minutes after you went to bed, you missed oscar’s text asking you if you were still awake, which he deleted five minutes after you didn’t answer him.
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strawberryblue-blog · 2 months ago
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Hey so I looked for request rules and I didn’t find anything maybe I skipped over it or something I don’t know but I wanted to ask if you could write something for Joao? For smut😭 I don’t really mind but I need more fics for him🙁
Call out my name —Joao Felix.
summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you have a special night at a club with a complete stranger.
warnings: YES. +18. (smut, public sex, strangers to lovers, p in v, kinda angst, etc)
words count: +2.5k
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A gulp of alcohol went down your throat as you tried to forget the memories of the past that were still pounding in your head. It was the first time you had been out in a long time and you were somewhat shaken, not only with the lack of partying you had but with your feelings of sadness that still haunted you.
Your friends had insisted that the first date after the breakup had to be wild and ruthless in order to forget your ex-boyfriend, who had cheated on you many times with his co-worker. So after almost four months in bed, depressed and lonely, you decided that his life had to go on and you were ready for an adventure.
Dancing and getting drunk has never killed anyone and it's what you need most right now. Your friends disappear into the crowd as you drink your last drink and stagger towards the dance floor. The music fuels your body and you begin to move your body to the rhythm of the melody, you meet your friends again who squeal when they see you coming and begin to dance.
You don't know how long it's been since you've been here but you can feel your feet hurting and the air starts to get thin, yet you keep moving your body against your friends. It's been a long time since you've felt like this and you've really missed feeling free. Your friend surrounds your waist and pulls you closer, trying to get your attention, you stop moving a little when her face gets close to your ear.
"You have an admirer up there" she whispers amused moving a little to position yourself. You swallow as your saliva feels dry from your sudden movements.
You turn your head slightly, dissimulating as you continue to move slowly. Your gaze focuses on a young man in the VIP area, he is holding a drink in his hand and leaning on the railing on the upper floor of the club. His gaze makes contact with yours and you feel the world come to a standstill.
Too handsome.
Seeing him in the glare of some light, you realize he is a young guy, with tousled dark hair and a dark gaze, which can be seen even when you are somewhat far away from him. His skin is so tanned that it glows in the flickering lights, his dark hair is shiny and he looks so natural tousled like this. Dressed in a simple white shirt a little unbuttoned on the first few buttons and black pants, simple but formal and handsome. You want to stop looking at him but you can't as a shiver runs down your spine. He is too handsome.
He was standing still, watching you while swaying your body to the music and your gaze can't move from him either. He's so handsome that you just had a crush on him and you're curious to know more about the guy and the atmosphere starts to get suffocating. For some reason, your stomach feels funny and you start dancing taking all the feelings out of your body, you had come for that. You don't care about making a show, you don't care that he is watching you, you just want to enjoy your night.
You close your eyes moving over your body, your hands spread all over your body, you lift your hair, you shout the song with passion, you have fun. Tonight you feel ready to let it all go and start over with your life.
You have a feeling that boy is still looking at you and that makes you want to keep doing it, so you keep dancing like there's no tomorrow. Enjoying the music at full volume, your head free of thought and your mischievous fun. When you open your eyes in his direction again, you notice that he is no longer there, watching you. Something of emptiness surrounds you, he must have left or maybe he was there with someone else. You sigh a little shaking your head and slowing your chest, it was probably an equis person taking a look around like everyone else here. He didn't even look familiar, it was the first time you were in this place and probably the last, so you didn't think anything of it. You sigh looking for some air in your lungs to start dancing again when you feel some hands surrounding your hips softly, leaving you a little surprised. The touch doesn't scare you, in fact, it feels warm and caring.
Your body freezes and you feel someone else's body approach yours from behind. You smell a strong, manly scent, as if it were an expensive perfume, one of those honeyed, sweet ones that attract. His fingers encircle your waist holding you as he turns you on your axis. The first thing you meet when you turn, are dark eyes that make you tremble, you quickly rest your hands on his firm chest and you can feel how his mouth is almost glued to yours, he looks at your lips and back to your eyes, while you watch him stunned.
He is much more handsome than he looked up there, his tanned skin is exotic and perfect, his jaw is set in a straight line, the color of his eyes dark brown. Your belly roars at his beauty. He is so precious that it leaves you speechless. With a simple gentle movement, your hands crawl across his skin and encircle his face, he smiles a little and makes your heart race. His touch on your skin makes you bristle and you can see his pupils dilate at your gaze, he licks his lower lip a little teasing you but you are too lost in the color of his brown eyes.
His hands move down your body and rest on your lower back, helping you move a little. That's when you finally hear the background music again, you had been lost in it. With your hands you caress his hard clothed skin, holding onto his neck as you move to the music.
Through the track light you can see him give you a look and you smile at him too, stroking the beginning of his hair at the nape of his neck. He presses you against his body and you gasp. The atmosphere becomes tense and suffocating. He guides you with his own body, moving you delicately as you don't stop looking deeply at each other.
You seem to be alone on the dance floor as you dance slowly and delicately, your smiles shy and somewhat desperate. You don't feel at all uncomfortable dancing with a stranger, in fact, you like it. The distance between you is cautious, your faces are close but not as close as you would like.
The music is too good and your bodies move freely as you sing, play and look at each other. You felt sexy, free and desired. You knew he wanted you, he had been staring at you for a while and now he had come for you. Suddenly the urge to do something crazy crossed your mind, your body vibrated at the idea and you closed your eyes feeling the music take over you.
With his strong hand he grabs the sides of your hips again and turns you again, pressing your back against his chest. He circles your lower belly and his fingers make contact with your skin, making you bristle. Your hands caress his forearms and you gasp at the feel of his warm body so close to yours. The sensation that takes over you feels different and you feel the tingling start to walk down your legs. His body fits perfectly into yours as you continue to rub against each other, dancing and easing the desire from your bodies. His hands move around your waist and begin to move up as he caresses your hot skin, you lift your hands as he caresses them and wrap them around his neck from behind.
It's the first time you've done something like this and you're honestly wondering why it had taken you so long to do it. Dancing with a stranger was fucking sensual.
Everyone is having fun tonight, why can't you have fun too? You had come to forget your ex, to forget your failed relationship of almost four years, to forget the old Y/n. When you open your eyes again, your surroundings spin and you begin to make room for yourself among the people. You take one last look at the unknown guy who is still staring at you and start to make your way out of the crowd.
Your body is hot and tired, you need some air to think well, the lights dazzle your eyes making your way difficult but you reach a kind of lonely corridor. You sigh taking a breath of air as your vision focuses on the figure of a man walking towards you, softly as you lean against the wall. You bite your lip shyly as the young man stops in front of you, close to you. Your heart started to pound as you feel him start to get closer and closer and you swallowed saliva as ideas shoot from your mind. You don't stop him, in fact, you long for him to come closer.
His eyes haven't left yours for a moment and the atmosphere becomes intense, his hand goes to your waist and rests it gently on you. His fingers feel warm on your skin and you feel the heat run through your body making you sweat. Your back is pressed completely against the wall, so he wraps around you and pulls you to him, making you gasp.
Your whole body feels strange, your soul resonates inside you. You just felt a connection that's hard to explain with an unknown person you've never seen before in your life, in a place where you never thought you'd find anything.
You were normally an old school girl, who liked to meet guys before making any moves. In fact you were kind of against one night stands, I mean there was nothing wrong with it, you just weren't that type.
But tonight all your convictions vanished, like the pain you felt in your heart.
Maybe you were a little drunk or maybe you are tired of so much shit you have lived and you prefer to erase everything from your memory, enjoy your new life, your body, your mind. Enjoy something completely new and crazy with you, that could save you from your misery or sink you but for the first time in your life, you were willing to risk everything to feel the boy's lips on yours. His face is so close you can feel his breath mingle with yours, his eyes look at your lips and back into your eyes, as if asking permission and you just blink flirtatiously.
His lips crash against yours warmly, in a quiet, soft and tender kiss, taking his time until they get used to you and ask for more. His touch feels warm and juicy, his lips mold perfectly to yours and he caresses them innocently. The stranger's hands spread across your body, wrapping his muscular arms around you as you hang from his neck. Then that's when your tongues spring into action and they battle touching, licking and tasting each other.
It feels good. Dancing so close with a stranger, letting them touch you as if you know each other. Kissing a stranger didn't feel like you thought it would, well actually, you never thought about kissing a stranger to tell the truth. But you liked it. Although you're not sure if you liked it with any stranger. But you liked it with this stranger.
Blinded even by the lights and his presence, his hands take yours and direct you somewhere you can guess and you reach the empty bathrooms and quickly go inside. You are thankful no one is there when your lips crash against his in a fleeting, sticky kiss, now completely wild and desperate, making you gasp as you feel his hands on your body again. He bites your lips as your hands grab his hair and tug at his limp locks, pulling you quickly into the cubicles.
You have not a hint of embarrassment as your back whips against the cubicle door and the young man lifts your dress, wrapping it a little around your waist. His lips never leave your neck as you hold your tongue hiding the gasps.
You have to admit this is probably the riskiest thing you've ever done and you're enjoying it. It may be the first time but it may also be the last time and you want to file this memory away at your young age. Your eyes admire the boy's toasty skin as your fingers tangle in his dark locks, tugging on them a little.
"I need you, please" you ask in a pleading whisper.
His crotch slams against yours and you gasp, feeling electric currents run down your back. The touch of his bulge makes you yearn to feel him inside but the stranger just wants to play with you, teasing you a little. His fingers play with the straps of your black dress and his white shirt brushes against your chest, giving a little friction to your erect nipples. He takes your lips again swallowing your gasps as his tongue does crazy things inside your mouth and his hands pull down your dress, your bare breasts come into view. His palms encircle your mounds and you gasp as he squeezes them around your flesh, making your legs tremble.
"Damn, you're perfect" he murmurs against your mouth as he continues to brush his intimate part between your legs.
Your cheeks burn with excitement but also burn with embarrassment. His words sound familiar to you, your boyfriend used to say them all the time but even though whoever says them is a complete stranger to you, they still ring truer than you've ever heard.
"I need you inside" you moan desperately.
The brunet smiles with his perfect white teeth and undoes his pants, just enough to pull his cock out. Your hands take care of undoing the buttons of his shirt and you open it to caress his pecs.
He pulls a condom from his pocket and you smile as you notice he was ready for this. Anyone would think you were a prude but you don't care at all, you need him to fuck you. After placing it over his big aroused cock, you lick your lips at how sensual it looks this way. His hands take your hips again and he lifts you up, helping you support your legs around his waist. When you are properly positioned and ready, the stranger takes his cock and directs it to your cavity.
He doesn't even have to check how wet you are because he can see for miles and you gasp as his cock strokes your clit a little and then slides into your slit, smearing himself with your juices.
You both gasp as he finally positions himself in your hole and slowly his hips jerk forward, thrusting in. Your eyes close as your head slams against the hard bathroom door and you bite down on your own hand to silence your moans, even though no one has entered yet they could enter at any moment and you don't want to be discovered right now.
His cock goes all the way through your cavity and takes the time for you to get used to him. As his hands took your legs around him and his mouth licked one of your nipples. This was glory. He began to move inside you gently, moving in and out carefully as his moans came out in whispers. You felt so full. Damn. Not fucking for so many months had made you tighter, so much so that his movements hurt but it was a pleasurable ache, one you didn't want him to stop. Or maybe he was too big, that definitely played a part too. His cock was perfect, pounding your cavity deeply and vehemently.
"You're too tight and wet, princess" he whispered in your ear as he began to pound harder.
Pleasure dispersed throughout your body as the stranger rammed you rough and continuous. You felt your belly contract with each movement. Your hands were on his head, then his chest, then the back of his neck, shoulders and neck. You needed to grab him from all sides, you wanted to feel his hot skin on your fingers as he kept pounding into your spot.
Your moans went unnoticed with the music in the background but you wanted to scream until your throat was torn, you needed it. You needed to scream his name, to recognize his eyes, his skin, his cock. Damn, you were feeling so good.
"Fuck" you squealed without noticing it came out in a scream.
The young man's hand positioned itself in your mouth and shut you up as you felt the pleasure well up inside you. At that moment, you heard some people enter the bathroom and squeal happily. These were some women who were clearly drunk and were playing with each other, laughing and screaming.
Yet he didn't stop.
His hand squeezed your mouth and with your dry lips you kissed his hand, feeling his strokes slow down so as not to make noise. With his other hand he squeezed one of your breasts and you bit into his hand, squealing in pleasure. Your head rested against the cool wood as he rammed hard again, more erratic and dirty, holding you by the ass with his other hand. You were so close.
His hands let go of your body and go to your cheeks surrounding it to focus your gaze on his. For a moment your eyes get lost in the young man's gaze, in that shiny dark brown. There is something in his gaze. Something different from the other looks, as if his eyes understand yours. As if he were feeling what you are feeling.
As if you were meant to meet.
You don't even know him but you can feel his familiar look. Your hands go around his neck and you pull him closer to you as his thrusts begin to accelerate, hitting your special spot. His face is so close to yours that you tremble under his gaze, you feel yourself melt under his eyes. Your eyes want to close as you begin to experience climax but you refuse to stop watching him, you can't stop watching him.
It feels so intimate. So special. So close.
How is it possible? You don't remember ever feeling this way with your boyfriend, with whom you were head over heels in love. Nor with your other sexual partners. This was so different.
"Joao" he murmured loudly and your face with a mixture of confusion and pleasure watched him. "That's my name, princess"
Joao. You wanna scream while he fucks you hard against the door of this bathroom in the club.
A whisper comes from your lips with his name 'Joao' barely audible. What an exotic name. Just like he was. Beautiful just like his name. Joao. You thought going over it to remember his name.
"Call out my name while you cum" he whispered dirty and hard. Just like he was hitting you in your thirsty hole.
"Fuck, Joao!" you squealed as you felt the orgasm hit you.
His name came out like a shout of glory. You saw him smile with your blurred vision as if he had been the champion of the war. This was too much.
Your whole being ignited, like a flare of fire growing in you, as you trembled whole. His strokes kept sending me waves of pleasure as your soul left your body and you levitated in a pleasurable cloud. His eyes never left you as he gasped into your face, pounding and pounding into your hole.
Orgasm hit you and you both came in unison as you felt your souls unite in pleasure and passion and gasped for air as it stopped inside you, still trembling and enjoying the sensation.
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mattsturnioloz · 2 months ago
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Then I lost you.
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Part 2.
Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?
Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, unresolved angst (maybe)
A/N: (guys this is my first fic so please bear with me😭 l would love some feedback or tips though!!)
I was sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone and channel surfing, waiting for my boyfriend, Matt, to get back from filming a car video with his brothers, Chris and Nick. But over the course of the last couple of months, Matt has been distant and there was a rather uncomfortable feeling sitting in my chest. He would make up excuses as to why he couldn't hang out with me like he was filming, editing or streaming. It made me overthink. Did I do something? Does he still love- No, of course he still loves me. Right?
It was all too much and it gave me anxiety. Sure, I understand his career as a Youtuber can be a handful but I can't help but feel a bit neglected and it makes me feel guilty.. I sit there thinking for a moment, taking in the cool autumn smell that roamed through the house, listening to the patter of the soft rain drops falling onto the windows, trying to think of a way that I could get Matt to spend time with me.
I decide to cook a nice dinner for matt and I or at least attempt to, so I stand up and I head to the kitchen and decide on some ravioli which takes me about an hour but I did it.
Flashback
"What are you gonna get to eat?" | asked Matt.
"I'm not sure.. you know for a fancy restaurant, you'd think they'd have a variety of options." He says before raising his eyebrow at me, showing me the menu and we both chuckle.
"Our first date and i'm already messing up huh?" He says with a nervous chuckle.
"What?? No! you're not messing up i'm having fun." I said with a smile, reaching over the table to hold his hand and he gave me a lighthearted smile.
"Ravioli is the only decent thing they got here, think i'll go with that." He says closing the menu. "See? It's not all that bad, I just so happen to love ravioli. I think I can go for some too.” I smile.
Present
I set up the table with bowls and utensils before making my way to the bathroom and realize that look a bummy mess so l spend the rest of the time I had left before he got back to make myself look at least a little presentable. I feel an overwhelming but nice sense of excitement to spend time with him again. I change into a casual but nice outfit and decide to do a simple and natural makeup look.
I soon hear the sound of the front door opening and chattering following behind it. I make my way out of the room to greet Matt who was laughing with chris and nick.
"Hey baby! How was filming??" | say almost too enthusiastically but I was too excited to keep my cool. "It was alright." He says nonchalantly, which makes me turn my happy demeanor down a notch.
Chris goes downstairs to get ready for something and Nick goes upstairs to do the same. Leaving matt and I alone which was perfect so I take the chance.
"I made-" before I could say anything Matt interrupted me. "Hey, me nick and chris are gonna go to top golf with madi, and nate so I might be home a little late." My heart sinks and i'm flushed with dread but I don't give up so easily.
"Well I actually made dinner for us.. I was hoping we could spend a little time together since we haven't in a while." | say fiddling with my necklace getting a bit anxious.
"I'm sure it's amazing baby but I should go get ready, Save me some yeah?" He says, placing a gentle kiss on my temple before he walks towards our shared bedroom to get ready.
I sit at the table where our food is now cold and I feel a lump in my throat followed by a cold sinking feeling in my chest.
658 words.
A/N: (This is sloppy and I kind of hate it, js wanted to try this out to see what yall think. if you guys like it, i'll keep writing, if not then im never writing again and since it's my first fic I kept it short but if you guys like it, i'll make the next parts longer đŸ«¶đŸŒ)
Taglist: @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @imwetforyourmom
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papercorgiworld · 6 months ago
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Two idiots in love
A Theodore Nott imagine
I’m back! Apologies for my silence. Especially to the ones who’ve been sending me love, but I was really busy and barely had any time to open this app or my phone in general. I got this post and a few more coming in the next few days. I had a very productive evening and day so, yey me. Sending you lots of love! Happy readings!
— The request —
Plss do a Theodore fic where he tutors the reader in potions or something and he’s a bit rude but like sweet at the same time??? Idk like he thinks she really cute but can’t believe someone can be so dumb
— The writing —
Theodore was a quiet guy and not one to make a move on just any girl. Unless drunk, then he might end up in a bathroom with some equally wasted girl for a little make out, but actively searching for a girlfriend just seemed like so much work to Theo. He much rather just hang out with his friends and skip class to have a smoke. 
However, this did not mean that he was immune to having a crush. Oh no, he had a crush and the worst case of crushing. He was constantly thinking about you and stealing glances whenever he could. It wasn’t on him, you were just too damn perfect. It was almost annoying Theodore how amazing you were. 
“Hey, Theo mate. I have a question.” Enzo quips as he takes a seat opposite of Theodore and reaches for some toast. “No.” Theodore answers without looking up from his plate, making Mattheo and Blaise smirk, but Enzo isn’t fazed at all. “Fine. Your loss. I’ll just have to tutor (y/n) myself.” Theodore’s eyes shoot up to meet Enzo’s with a piercing look to determine whether his friend was bullshitting him or not. Enzo’s smile reveals his amusement but also that he was telling the truth. “She needs a tutor?” Theodore says with a calm voice, though there is an obvious hint of excitement in it. “Yes, apparently she blew her last potions test
 like big time. And she’s so desperate to fix her grade she asked me to ask you, apparently ‘the smartest guy in class’ - her words not mine - to tutor her. I’m assuming you’re interested?” She thinks I’m the smartest guy in class. So she’s noticed me. She knows who I am. She knows I’m smart. That’s good. Really good. She knows me. “Theo?” Enzo askes breaking Theo’s train of thoughts. “Uhm-Yeah-I
 I’ll think about it. If I have time. And stuff.” Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo stare Theodore with wide eyes. “Someone hit him.” Blaise finally speaks and Mattheo nods before raising his hand to smack Theo’s head. “If I have the time, bloody idiot.” Theodore pushes Matt’s hand away and narrows his eyes at Mattheo’s mockery and insult. “Just say you’ll do it.” Enzo urges and Theo looks at him for a second before nodding in agreement.
***
Pretty. Perfect. Potions-Peanut. Theo thought as he watched you screw up a simple brew for the third time, like he hadn’t just explained to you step by step how to do it. He was falling in love even more as you sighed and stared at your cauldron and back at your instructions. “I think I messed it up again.” Theodore chuckles at your sad and defeated expression. “You think?!” Theo jokes, but immediately worries that that might be a bit rude of him. “But uhm-do you know where it went wrong?” He asks and you focus on your instructions again in search of which step you screwed up. Your eyebrows knit together even more and Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. “You really don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?” You drop your head a little. Great, I'm making a total fool of myself in front of Theodore Nott. Not only am I ruining my fantasy of ever having a chance with him, now he and his friends will be laughing at me for the rest of the year
 
“You can’t be this dumb? Check again, you’ll find it.” Theo breaks the silence and your eyes meet his with a hesitant look, before quickly searching for an answer on the list of instructions. Yes, I just called her dumb. Good work, Theo. Theodore grits his teeth as his anger with himself grows. After a few seconds of you searching for how you screwed up your potion and Theodore searching for something right to say, you are the first to speak up. “I give up, I suck at potions.” You let the paper in your hands fall on the desk in front of you and turn to look at Theo who gives you a surprisingly sweet smile. “Yeah you do, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll explain it again
and better this time.” 
Your heart melts at his sweet voice and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You really don’t have to waste your whole evening explaining potions to me, I’m sure you have better things to do.” Theodore smirks at your blushed cheeks. “I’m sure I won’t be teaching you potions all night. At some point you’ll get it and successfully brew this
 and then we can move on to more interesting subjects.” You look back at the papers on the desk and press your lips together to keep yourself from smiling like a love struck fool, while Theo's smug eyes scan your face with satisfaction. “Dumb, but so adorable.”
“What?” You look up at Theo and he looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.” He chuckles awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh. “I might be dumb, but you’re a first class idiot as well.” Theodore rolls his eyes, while an amused smile tugs on his lips. She’s right about that. I am an idiot. He reaches for the books on the desk, forcing his smile into a line. “Let’s just focus on potions.” You chuckle at his flusteredness. “Sure.” 
Both flustered your glance over at one another only to catch the other one already staring. The potion might not have been right, but the chemistry definitely was.
***
“Sooo, how did the tutoring go?” Mattheo asks as he catches up with Theodore in the hallway. “Great.” Theodore answers, but avoids eye contact with his friend, making him suspicious. “Great? What does that mean, she understands the material now?” Theodore chuckles and his tongue darts in his mouth. “No, she still doesn’t get it. Which means she needs another session. So, it went great.” Theodore explained, unable to hide his happiness now that he gets to spend more time with you. Mattheo just shakes his head in amusement. 
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rrxnjun · 1 year ago
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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]
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you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.
pairing: mark lee x fem! reader
genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.
wc: 12k (11.926)
warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic
playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz
a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)
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When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 
There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on
 you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.
Step one – cry it out.
“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.
“Why’d you say that?”
“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”
“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.
“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.
“Yeah, but–”
“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 
He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.
First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 
Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 
And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.
And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.
“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.
“You know I hate cookies and cream!”
“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.
And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.
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Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.
Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.
“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.
“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”
“I mean
” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess
” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”
And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.
It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.
“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.
Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 
“Um
 hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.
“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I
 brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I
 I actually, uh
 I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”
“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be
 cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.
Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh
 beat me to it, I guess
” 
Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.
“I’ll
 see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.
Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.
And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 
And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 
Couldn’t he forget about that too?
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Step three – block his number.
The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.
Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 
Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.
So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.
“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.
Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”
“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 
“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.
“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.
“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.
“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know
 you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff
 and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around
 but anyways
 Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know
and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”
“Mark–” 
“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just
 I dunno, I guess it got me wondering
”
The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
“Mark?”
“Hm?”
“You still there?”
“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.
“It
 it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 
“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s
 awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?
“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.
“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to
 y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this
 ‘t was for the better, after all.”
You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.
“What were you saying before, by the way? You
 trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.
“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”
It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.
“What was it?”
“It’s just
 I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know
 if there was a chance we could ever
” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.
“I mean
” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– 
I’m glad.”
The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.
“Good night, Mark.”
“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.
He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.
And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.
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Step four – date someone new.
“So
” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.
“So
?” 
A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.
“I was thinking
 my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year
?”
“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.
“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”
“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.
“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”
“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.
“I said he asked about you.”
“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”
Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”
“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”
“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s
 nice of him, I guess.”
Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.
Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”
Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.
“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”
“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”
“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just
”
“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.
“I
 don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”
“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.
“No, that’s not it–”
“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.
“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.
“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”
“I have you,” you try.
“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”
You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.
Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 
Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”
“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“
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And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 
And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 
The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.
“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 
Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.
Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 
“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 
“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 
“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.
And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 
Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 
It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 
Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?
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After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.
Step five – avoid him at all costs.
Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?
Wrong.
Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?
And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 
When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 
“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.
You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.
“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.
Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”
Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.
“Yeah,” you say, “that was just
 Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”
Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.
Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.
It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 
You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 
You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.
You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 
“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”
Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”
“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”
The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.
At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 
“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering
 everything
 Didn’t it?”
“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you
 broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”
The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.
“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.
“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So
 yeah
”
Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”
“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.
“Why did you invite me here today? What was the
 point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 
Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”
“Here, of all places?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”
Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 
“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”
“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 
“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 
He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that
 I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”
“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.
“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just
 laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.
And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 
“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.
“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really
 acting like it in the past few months.”
“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.
A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t
 there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s
 at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”
His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.
And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 
“Stop me from saying it if you
 if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.
Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 
“I love you,” he says.
And isn’t that all that’s needed? 
A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?
“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”
“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”
“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 
“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.
Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.
“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark
 I’m glad you remembered.”
And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 
Where do broken hearts go?
Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.
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“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 
“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”
“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 
“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”
You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 
You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.
“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 
“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.
Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.
“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 
That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 
And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.
He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 
“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.
“The final result being
?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.
“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.
Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.
“Mark?” 
“Hm?” 
“If we ever get lost, or something happens
 bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”
“Even us?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.
“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.
“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”
Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”
Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.
You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.
Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.
You guess your heart never really left the hill.
1K notes · View notes
zo3mess · 2 months ago
Text
Pest Control
Summary: So, Adrian has a girlfriend
 And it’s not you. But that’s fine, it’s not like you have a secret crush on him, right? And it’s not like she treats him like an absolute shit while you have to hear every night how great she is. Maybe someone should help Adrian get rid of that gold-digging leech.
Warnings: 18+, toxic relationships, Adrian is a meanie, reader is a simp and makes questionable decisions, unrequited love (unless
), blowjobs, voyeurism, foul language, fem!reader, no Y/N
Word count: 4.3K
Requests
Extra songs for this fic
Masterlist
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Note: Wow, this was pain to write. I literally wanted to scrap it every time I worked on this. Anyways, I’ve been thinking about requests I guess? Idk if anyone would be interested, but if you are, just write a message and I might come up with something. Anyways, enjoy this mess <3
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You thought Adrian was a smart guy. You’ve listened to him bragging about precisely picking up clues about criminals’ weak spots just from simple observations. You’ve seen him put together who is the killer in the detective series you watch together.
Well, you just have to forget about that time when he thought he could talk himself from that mess he got into when he accidentally revealed his secret identity. Vigilante mask messily thrown under the passenger seat didn’t make it when he gave you a lift
Still it was a shame to see him lose all that perception and common sense when a pretty girl paid attention to him.
Sadly, that pretty girl wasn’t you. Not that you mind of course. You just hated how he talked your ear off with odes on her beauty. Great ass this, big tits that, but you caught up all those small details that he seemingly missed.
How she conventionally forgets her wallet every time he takes her out. How she checks his phone for “cyber threats” when the only true threat is her. How she is always late with her mortgage payment, at least that’s what she tells him, and when he lends her money, suddenly a new pair of heels occupy her shoe rack.
Every shift with Adrian ended before you even realized, you just discussed stupid things when you do the dishes or shoot funny faces at each other across the restaurant. But ever since he got into a relationship, he had his head full of her instead of all your shared interests from before. Over and over again he talked about Meghan.
Just like now, he yapped and yapped, getting all mushy and soft to the point where he almost forgot that he’s supposed to be bussing tables with you.
“She said she loved me, would you believe that?” Even when he was turned away from you he couldn’t hide a cheery grin that formed with his words. He was just so happy, while you practically felt your heart shatter.
“And do you
 love her back?”
“I- pfff, of course I do. What kinda question is that?” He answered right after you asked, like he was 100 % sure about his feelings. You knew him long enough to know, that Adrian was far from a person who had his thoughts and feelings together.
You decided not to sow any doubts into his belief, he would shut any of your argument down like the stubborn guy he is.
“You would like her, you know.” Such a simple statement, such an anger trigger.
“You would like her,” you mocked his statement under your breath while kneeling in front of the electricity box from the other side of Meg’s house. “Yeah, I would like her six feet under.”
Hey, maybe it was not the smartest idea to flip her electricity off for seemingly no reason, but God, were you furious. Meghan had Adrian wrapped around her dainty little finger and he acted like her little pet, doing tricks for the smallest signs of affection.
So what if you wanted her life to not be so perfect? At least for a little while until she figures out how to switch the electricity back.
Vigilante would send a bullet right through your head for doing this.
Though you were sure he would never ever-
Well
 Maybe he would. Crime is crime, no matter how great friends you are. You were safe for now, he didn’t have time tonight to watch cheesy romcoms with you and laugh at the stupidity of it. Apparently, he had business to take care of, which could only mean he started his stake out earlier than normal.
Just when you were about to stand up and leave in silence, unseen by neighbors if you got lucky, you heard voices. Not exactly near you, but close enough to make you nervous.
Voices. Conversation. Slam of car doors followed by slam of front door
 Shit.
The logical part of your brain screamed ‘Run!’ but the other part of your brain, which usually stands behind those kinds of petty actions, tells you to wait for Meghan’s annoyance and confusion once she finds she can’t even switch a light on.
Silent steps, moves like a ninja, if Adrian saw you he would totally compliment your cat-like walk from the electricity box to the side of Meg’s house. Though he would not compliment the fact that you were too eager to snoop around and look inside her house through the half-open blinds.
You expected Adrian’s girlfriend to barge in with her friends of some sort, but genuine surprise spread across your face when she came in with Adrian, who had his hands full with various shopping bags.
So this is what he meant by business? Being a slave in shopping fever?
And he didn’t even have the guts to tell you honestly why he couldn’t hang out after the morning shift like usual.
And what shocked you even more was the situation that unfolded in front of you. Meghan practically launched at Adrian, making him drop all the bags on the floor. She locked him in a messy and steamy kiss that made your stomach twist.
Oh my god. You shouldn’t be watching that, right?
But it was so endearing. It didn’t take long before she slid to her knees and undid Adrian’s jeans with skilled hands and took his dick out. If only she didn’t block your view with her head

Adrian gasped and writhed under her hands, you have never seen him turn to putty so fast. He gets all wobbly, whiny, and cuddly when he has too many drinks in a bar, which is probably the closest you could have gotten to see this side.
But this? A Whole next level.
Pathetically beautiful.
“Shut up, Adrian.” Meg’s annoyed order sent a shiver down your spine. This just gave you another piece of evidence of how horrible she was.
What fool would shut down an angel’s choir right before them? You only got a taste of what his vocal cords could do amid pleasure and just that was making your insides jump in unexplainable need.
Adrian unfortunately complied. He clamped his palm over his mouth, muffling any noise that threatened to escape as she took him in her mouth. Despite his tries though, a few loud groans still traveled to your ears.
You’ve heard him groan in pain when he sliced his hand by broken glass at work or when he stubbed his toe on your coffee table. But hearing him groan in pleasure? If you could it would be the only sound he would make next to another moans and whimpers.
This was just so wrong. You mentally kicked yourself that you haven’t dipped already. To be fair it wasn’t worse than cutting off electricity in her house, at least in a legal way. In moral ways, this was worse.
But it truly was a sight to behold.
Just from this distance, you could see the way his lower stomach seized with each bob of her head. Or how he stopped his hips from thrusting further. Chest heaving with each shallow breath. One hand dug in the wall he was leaning on, the other hid half of his face desperately trying to shush himself. Usually twinkling eyes shut tightly under his aviator glasses alongside furrowed brows accompanying the whole look.
This boy belonged to an art gallery. And if not there, he could be an art piece in your home, your eyes alone would replace a thousand others.
Maybe all it takes for someone to realize their feelings is to watch a friend get a blowjob. Because right here and there, kneeling next to the window and peeking through blinds, you feel

Jealousy. That is what it was all along.
You wished you could take Meghan’s place and kneel in front of him rather than hiding and watching the nasty scene in front of you. You just couldn’t tear your eyes away, at least not until it was all over.
Eventually, Adrian cried out loudly and slammed his hand against the wall. That’s where you realized he was not only forbidden from moaning out loud but also forbidden from touching her. Considering this was her way of paying off Adrian...
Meg quickly stood up and ran towards the sink the second Adrian stopped flaring inside her mouth. Why was it breaking your heart to see her spit out his cum down the drain and immediately rinse her mouth with water. And poor Adrian followed her decision to not swallow with a disappointed look.
There must have been something really appealing to guys to have their girls swallow everything they so generously give them. The idea of part of them staying inside their loved ones for the rest of the day.
Ownership.
Except in this situation Meg owned Adrian, not the other way around. At least that much was clear, it made sense she would never allow something so intimate.
It was hard to act nonchalant around Adrian those following days. The second he came through the door you lost ability to talk normally, hell, you forgot how to walk like a normal human every time he was nearby by.
To be fair, there was such a mix of emotions coursing through you it would be a miracle if you acted cool. Jealousy, anger, guilt and
 Attraction? No, that can’t be. Every person would feel this weirdly if they saw one of their closest friends getting oral.
It’s like when you experience that strange phenomenon where you dream of someone close to you and suddenly, upon waking up, you realize you have a huge crush on them. It's like your subconscious mind has played a trick on you, ‘Do it for the plot’ as the youngsters say.
Thinking about it afterwards, it was foolish to switch her electricity off. At least it calmed your raging nerves for a while. Give or take few minutes until your mind set off when you saw Adrian getting a blowjob and all of a sudden you developed crush on him.
And now? Well
 How else are you supposed to calm nerves from one-sided love?
Alcohol. Drink it over.
Is it a solution? Yes. Is it a good one? That’s debatable.
You don’t even usually drink, at least not in some dingy bars, but it is the only thing that makes you forget about that ache in your chest. You sit by the bar, occasionally spilling sorrows to the barman that clearly let your complaints one ear in, one ear out.
At the point where you felt tipsy and dizzy, you settled on leaving the bar as long as you had some dignity. Phone numbers started mixing, names on your phone were way too blurred.
But the one thing that sobered you out was a woman that walked past you with a man by her side. You knew her, right? She looked familiar?
The pair settled in the booth at the very end of the bar, seeking darkness and privacy, illuminated only by few fairyl ights that hovered over the booth instead of those sharp reflectors by the bar.
The unstable bar stool barely held you up as you leaned towards that woman you have totally seen before. By some squinting and ears dropping you finally figured who it was

Meghan.
With someone that wasn’t Adrian.
But that fine, it could be some old friend, coworker, maybe brother or cousin-
“Holy shit, they’re making out.”
“Congratulations, your eyes are still working.” The barman chimed in and slid you a bill, impatiently tapping his finger on the counter.
You had to sleep on it, That sight haunted your mind even the day after, when hangover brought you down but your mind was clear enough to think about the thing you saw yesterday.
Meghan. Was in a bar with some macho man that definitely wasn’t Adrian. And they were basically sticking tongues down each other’s throats

This was wrong. So wrong. Poor Ade had no idea he was being cheated on. Well, it’s not like you haven’t anticipated it, but he couldn’t see it coming.
You would be a bad friend if you didn’t do anything about it. But coming onto him and saying something like this? Adiran would only laugh in your face and tell you to stop fucking with him, his perfect little girlfriend would never do that.
So
 What if you gave Meghan a chance? You still had her number from that one time where Adrian tried to do a common movie night. It never happened.
Either she comes clean herself or you will tell Adrian. She does not need to know he probably won’t believe you either way.
Give her creeps, scare her
 That’s the plan. You just had to text her from hidden number and wait for karma to do its thing.
She never answered back to that menacing text, days passed and it seemed Adrian and Meghan were still going strong. You almost thought nothing will come out of it.
It almost became the time where you prepared yourself to tell him the truth but

Until one day, Adrian was acting weird on a shift. Not that it is something unusual, he is weird in certain aspects, but this time it was different.
He did offer you ride home like always though and there was no way you would refuse, at that time you didn’t thought it would be any different.
Not until you actually got into his car
  Familiar environment, same car fragrance, same little silly figure holding motivation quote on his dashboard. Yet your gut screaming that something is not right. Especially when Adrian just sat there, hands on the steering wheel without even starting the car.
“My girlfriend called me,” He started off with a calm voice, but you knew damn well where this was going. “Well, ex-girlfriend now
” He corrected himself with such a nonchalant demeanor like it was nothing.
You just sat in his car, silent, not daring to even flinch. Calm before storm, as they say, now you finally know how it feels.
“And well you know, apparently one of my psycho coworkers was threatening her and stuff.” He chatted away with such grace. Completely undisturbed like he was talking about his favorite pizza toppings. It was pineapple by the way, if anyone was wondering how psychotic he can be.
Why was he so calm? Somehow it was scarier than if he screamed at you right away.
“She said I wasn’t worth dealing with this bullshit, would you believe that?” A way too loud chuckle rang in your ears. You couldn’t decipher if he was actually amused or faked it for the sake of it.
Oh you wanted to turn invisible or at least hide from his piercing eyes. He could see almost every twitch in your face that erupted due to him. Every jerk of muscles in your tense expression and every nervous blink that only revealed your blame.
“And on top of that, she took like 120 dollars from my bank account? Funny huh?”
That didn’t even surprise you, Adrian gave her his credit card for undisclosed reasons. What did surprise you was the lack of emotion behind his ‘jokes’.
You were fucked and not in the good way.
“And I just find it interesting that the person she described sounds a lot like you. So, what the fuck did you do?” Oh, he shoots you that look. That disappointed and angry look that was even more telling than any word could possibly be.
“I did what I had to do. She was with you just for your money, can’t you see that?”
“She loved me!”
“She used you!” You spat back instantly, someone might argue it was maybe even too harsh, but it seemed that all grace left the moment he confronted you.
No other comment followed, no argument, no justification for Meghan’s actions. He just stared at you, a mix of emotions mixing behind his irises and it made you wonder whenever he realized that your words had some truth to them.
The silence that followed made the air near right suffocating, sparkling with tension that could set off with one wrong word. But you take the chance anyway.
“You should be with someone who actually likes you for who you are.”
“Yeah, right,” Adrian scoffed and shook his head to himself, “You mean with someone like you? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Oh, how did that sting. Words laced with mockery and annoyance.
Someone like you

 Of course he never saw you that way. You were just an insignificant part of his life. Just another coworker, someone he can pass time when he’s bored but nothing more.
“You say that you care and you show it by making my girlfriend dump me. How is that caring?” He didn’t stop flaring hurtful words at you with a choked-up voice. And it made you wonder for a split second if he knew how much he was breaking you. He could be cruel, but would he unleash that side on you?
“You don’t know shit, Adrian!” You couldn’t take it anymore, with an annoyed screech you left his car and slammed the car doors as hard as you could.
Sultry night air pooled warmth over your body the second you left his car and stomped back towards the restaurant. You were ready to beg any of your coworkers for a lift home now that Adrian wasn’t an option.
And in the span of a few days, Adrian lost two people he cared about. Their titles were clear, girlfriend and friend, but those mixed-up feelings hiding behind simple names made his head dizzy. When Meg left, he didn’t feel sadness or loss. It was more disappointment that soon turned into anger directed at you.
Who were you to make decisions like this for him? It was your fault she left him without a word and a few dollars lighter. Well in the grand scheme of things it was just a few.
But all things considered, your departure somehow hurt more. When you slammed the car doors in his face he felt sad. Genuinely. Your actions hurt him, of course, but the feeling only dug itself deeper into his soul when you parted ways on bad terms.
But again, he was never particularly an expert at deciphering his emotions. So whatever he felt, it might as well be a simple betrayal with no extra complexity.
And when it came to you, well

You knew you fucked up. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. No matter what Adrian believes, you had good intentions. They might have been laced with your own selfish needs, but that doesn’t change the fact that you just wanted to help him.
 What else you could have done except for this? Talking about it wouldn’t make him see clearer, you tried. Leaving him be would be the easiest option, that didn’t seem like a good solution. At this rate, he would lose all his money because of her and probably get all washed up. Just a perfect boyfriend ATM for her.
After many shifts where Adrian completely avoided you and didn’t even shoot you a glance, you finally come to terms that you lost him. There won’t be any more movie nights where you stuff your mouth with cheap popcorn or inside jokes you occupied yourselves at work to make the shift run faster.
Maybe there was a side to his girlfriend that you didn’t see. Light touches in the morning when Adrian spent the night, fleeting kisses, jokes they shared, but what would be the chance she had a heart and used it to love him.
She still cheated on him in that bar. It was her. Totally. No doubt. Right?
A warm storm was brewing in the night sky when you got to your bus stop, the pleasant smell of rain carried itself through the streets and small raindrops wetted your hair and stuck it to your skin. Those kinds of summer storms were nice when you didn’t have to wait for a dingy bus to take you home.
Especially tonight it seemed like the bus would never come. You waited, waited, waited
 It either broke down or the driver just decided that he won’t take a turn to get to this specific bus stop.
Either way you were getting drenched, cold and impatient, already settling on calling overpriced taxi or walking home in a storm.
You began walking in direction of your home until a familiar car slowed beside you on the road But even then you didn’t stop walking, you knew damn well who it was but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Sebring’s window got rolled down “Need a ride?” and that was when you finally stopped and took a peek on the driver that had almost too soft of a expression plastered on his face.
That ride home was quiet, yet surprisingly peaceful. Neither of you dared to say a word, either because you didn’t want to interrupt the calm between you or because you simply had nothing to say.
One of those times when you meet up with an old friend after such a long time. When you have to warm up a bit to their presence.
And gods, did you miss him. More than you’d care to admit.
Blinding lamp lights flashed through the car window and slow jazz played from the radio on the lowest volume. And just then, when you finally felt a sense of familiarity you talked “I meant well.”
“I know.” Was all he said back before you settled on silence again, much lighter silence.
From time to time you both stole a glance at each other, but Adrian had to focus on the road and you averted gaze from the fear of being caught staring.
How did you never noticed how pretty he looked in the night light?
He stopped in front of your house, a strong deja vĂș washed over you, but before you could have exited the car yourself, Adrian jumped out of the car and walked over to open the door for you. It’s not like he haven’t done that before, but after you have been through it was an action you didn’t expect.
Without a complain you exited the car and just stood there on the pavement. In warm summer night that would be almost too quiet if it wasn’t for the light drip drip drop of the rain.
You were both searching for words, for apologies. Both sides were wrong and for the first time in your lives, you both knew you made a mistake. Mistake hidden by a good intention. Mistake hidden by a natural reaction. Mistake made by bad decisions, confused feelings and horrible communication.
“You planted a bug in my head, y’know,” Adrian eventually started, rubbing his hands together, “I- I’m—Sorry for acting like a jerk”
You should say you’re sorry too for sabotaging his relationship that seemed horrible to you, but maybe, just maybe, it was more tender than you anticipated.
Actions speak louder than words, right?
You take a hesitant step forward, but when Adrian doesn’t budge, you lock him in a mundane hug. That type of hugs you gave each other on drunken nights as you stumble your way home, filled with raw emotion and honest care.
Adrian’s back
 And you couldn’t be happier.
Who knows if it was that sheer happiness or if you grew too confident from the fact he forgives you, you don’t have anything to lose at this point, right?
Your hand sneaks behind his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You noticed that he is in need of a trim, but that could wait for better time.
You slowly moved your head from the crook of his neck, up and closer, until your cheeks were smushed together. In same way, those droplets of rain was giving this encounter sort of somber vibe, Peace, comfort, calmness

And when he still didn’t budge, you dragged your face closer and closer, lips almost dragging across his cheek and then...
And then...
Butterflies in your belly were set free. They spread all across your body, making your fingers tingle as you held his face close to you, making your heart stop beating against your own ribs and against his chest. Sparkling electricity in your lips as you connected them with his own buzzing ones.
Adrian himself didn’t know what drove him to kiss you back. Did it matter anyway? Who the hell knows if his motivation was just a need for a quick rebound or if he finally discovered hidden feelings for you

After all, you were in his arms and it was all that mattered.
That’s where you belonged all along, no matter neither of you knew it until this moment.
It’s a slow mangling of lips, strong and a little bit messy. Too much saliva, too much tongue in wrong places and yet, it was all you ever wanted, all you ever dreamed of.
Coming home. You think to yourself when you pull away for air.
“Do you want to rewatch Fargo with me?” You murmured against his lips, shit-eating grin on your lips. This was an offer you know he can’t refuse.
“Fargo and chill?” Much to your discontent he pulled away from your embrace, but all wrongs turned right when he took you by the hand and pulled you behind him towards your front door with unseen confidence.
And the second those doors shut behind you, theirs was no doubt you were both in the right place.
Sometimes life works out in the messiest way imaginable. But as long as it does, who are you to judge.
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goldsainz · 4 months ago
Text
❝ IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG ❞
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MASTERLIST!
pairing . . . art donaldson x reader
â—Šâˆ˜ïœĄïŸŸ. warnings . . . smut (riding, protected sex), cheating, reader’s kinda delusional, toxic behaviour, not proofread.
â—Šâˆ˜ïœĄïŸŸ. summary . . . all it takes is a text and a lonely hotel room.
â—Šâˆ˜ïœĄïŸŸ. note . . . first art fic i am beyond excited đŸ€­ many more to come and my requests are open so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them in my inbox!!!!!! forgot how fun writing smut was, kinda crazy to have my first art fic be smut but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless 💙
[ word count: 1,7k ]
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You know it is wrong to long for Art Donaldson. To not have moved on, but your life is incomplete without him. You tried to find someone else, someone who can compare to him, yet there is no one like him.
He’s not yours, no, in fact he’s married now. He has managed to move on from you, he has created a life for himself and he doesn't need you. Not like you need him, anyway.
You tune in for his matches, watch him beat his opponents and then run to his beautiful wife to celebrate. They actually looked good together, seemed like a proper couple and were the perfect faces of tennis. You could not be that for Art, you're too much of a mess to even dare to be as idyllic as Tashi Duncan.
Maybe that's why it feels so good that he’s currently under you, that it's your name he's moaning and your kisses he’s searching for. Maybe that’s the reason why you feel so unbothered by wrecking a home, because if he cheats, is there even much of a home to begin with? You don't think so. 
He’s like a vice you cannot seem to quit. Even when you first broke up, it took less than two days for him to hit you up and for you to be outside his house. Nobody knows you like Art, and nobody knows Art like you. You wonder if his wife is aware of how much he dreams of you, that when he’s with her, he’s thinking about you.
All it takes is for one of you to reach out, and you both throw all dignity out the window. The measly barriers you both created collapse in a second, no words need to be said to know what the other wants. It is quite simple between you two, perhaps in a way that is too carnal and not emotional enough. 
That is why, for some reason you don’t care enough to think about, he’s in your hotel room. 
You’re in New York City, alone in a hotel room that feels too big for just one person. You tried to go to a bar, tried to mingle with people in hopes of making your life less lonely. For just one night, at least.
It is not intentional that Art is also in New York, in fact, you’ve tried to steer clear of him and his overbearing presence in your life. It has been months since your last conversation, which consisted of him saying “Happy birthday” and you answering “Thanks”. 
You go back to your hotel room after your attempts at not being alone fail miserably. It is partly your fault, because you always end up in the same vicious cycle of comparing the men you meet to Art. No one can compare to him, and you damn your heart for taking over and not letting you have some enjoyment. 
You’re sprawled out on the bed, wearing your pajamas and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You consider going to sleep, but something inside you tells you to stay awake and you receive your answer in the form of an imessage notification.
Art (Do NOT contact)
Hey, I heard you’re in NYC.
You
Yeah.
Art (Do NOT contact)
Wanna meet up?
You
Why?
Art (Do NOT contact)
Don’t know. 
Just missed you.
You
You can’t just say that.
Art (Do NOT contact)
I know. 
Are you free right now?
You
It’s 11pm, Art.
Art (Do NOT contact)
So? 
Send me your location.
You
[Location] 
Room 904.
Art (Do NOT contact)
Be there in 20. 
You’re thrust back into reality when he moves beneath you, hitting a spot that makes you arch your back and has you mewling. Guilt doesn’t even make its way through your mind, if anything, the scandalous nature of what you’re doing makes you wetter than you care to admit. 
Art looks up at you like you’re a goddess, a siren that he fell prey to, his eyes shine when he takes in the sight above him. Your tits are bouncing in front of his face, and he has to resist the urge to attach his mouth to one of them, but he’s too concentrated on the faces you make. 
You whine when he grabs your hips and moves you up and down quicker than before. Your hands are planted on his chest, grabbing onto whatever semblance of support you can get. You know how much he likes for you to be on top, loves it when you take control but today he’s antsier and needs to take some control back. So, he settles for tightly gripping your hips and deciding the pace of your movements.
You lean down and connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, teeths clashing and your mouths open to let out a moan when the other does something that makes your toes curl. 
“Please,” he breathes out against your mouth, “Please, let me come.”
“Do you deserve it?” you ask, rearing back to look at him but you don't slow your movements either. 
“Yes, yes I do,” he pants, brows furrowing when he feels the heat in his core bubbling up.
“Only if I come first,” you say, taking one of his hands and placing it on your sensitive nub. 
Art moans at your response and his moves are hasty, rubbing you like his life depends on it. You let out short breaths at his touch, the heat inside you creeping up and ready to set off like fireworks.
He looks at your blissed out expression, how your bottom lip is between your teeth in an attempt to conceal the beautiful sounds you make. He’s tempted to use the other hand that’s on your hip to take your lip away from your teeth, but his thoughts are cut short when you clench tightly around him.
“I’m close, Art,” The blonde doesnt need to hear you say it, he knows your body like the back of his hand. 
It is no surprise when you come around him, a high-pitched moan escapes your mouth when your body shakes from pleasure. Like clockwork, Art spills inside his condom almost instantly after your release washes over you. 
He gives a few sloppy thrusts after he comes, feeling you collapse onto his chest, tired out from your orgasm. Art kisses the side of your head, heavily breathing and trying to form a coherent thought. Though it is quite hard when he is so fucked out. 
You separate yourself from his chest and press another kiss to his lips. Relishing on the closeness between you, he places his hand on the nape of your neck and keeps you in place.
After a few seconds he slips himself out of you. You whine at the loss of the fullness you felt, but he quickly shushes you with a simple kiss. It’s softer this time, sweeter than you deserve and more romantic than you’d like. 
You remove yourself from being on top of him, and lay down beside him. The pillow is soft and comforting, you keep your gaze trained on the ceiling and try to calm your harsh breathing down. You hear the rustle of the bed sheets and then feel yourself being covered by them, the soft touch of Art’s hand when he handles the sheets and brushes his knuckles against your chest makes you shiver
“This was fun,” he lets out, like he just got off an amusement park attraction. 
You can only hum in response, slightly turning your head to look at him. That is your mistake, because once you take in his beauty you cannot stop doing so. It makes you want to do things you shouldn’t, say things that would ruin whatever’s going on between you two.
“How long are you staying here for?” the question takes you aback, do you want him to know you schedule? A small part of you, the rational one, tells you to lie and put this little rendezvous behind you. But the part that makes most of the decision, the one that you damn each day, makes you tell him the truth.
“Until friday,” you respond, playing with the corner of the bedsheets between your fingers.
“Okay, cool,” he says back, it’s tuesday and that leaves you with just a couple days to see the other. How badly you wish that this wasn't what your relationship was now, but you have to make do with what you have. At least until you're pulled back into reality. 
You’re not sure why but the idea of him seeking you out once more, feels your tummy with a fuzzy feeling akin to butterflies.
“Yeah,”
Time seems to stand still for a few minutes, with his hands behind his head and yours resting just below your chest. It’s as if neither of you want to break the moment that’s happening, one that has a close expiration date.
After a moment of quiet, he finally breaks the silence, “I’m glad I’m here,”
You don't know how to respond so you settle for a simple, “Me too,”
For a moment, you both just look at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It's a fleeting connection, intense yet fragile, and you know that despite it neither of you belong to the other.
“I should get going,” he tells you, sitting up from his laid down position in bed and searching for his sprawled around clothes.
“Sure,” you answer as you watch him clothe himself, intently keeping your eyes trained on his figure.
“I’ll text you,” he says when he’s done clothing himself, “We could hang out again,”
“Okay,”
He looks at you once more, and you swear you see him hesitate when he reaches for the door handle. Something inside you aches for him to kiss you goodbye, to give you that intimacy that youre no longer privy to.
But as quick as that thought crosses your mind, he’s out the door.
Art doesn't text you as he said he would. You want to be mad at him, but you know you’ll be waiting for the day he messages you, and you can tally another clandestine meeting to your board. After all, you belong eternally to him and he to you. 
267 notes · View notes
nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 7 months ago
Note
fic idea!! ethan and y/n had a fight but she ended up on her knees sucking him to make it up to him.
they had to quickly go back to school because they all eat lunch with chad tara etc.
ethan has his hand on her thigh as they all talk and laugh, but y/n is still horny after that incredible bj.
he teases her, caresses her thigh, hand going up under her skirt, only slightly brushing against her panties. *with pleasing eyes she whispers* "Please ethan ill be quiet i promise"
he ends up fingering her under the table. bonus if she stops him before orgasming because she knows she'll be too loud and they end up fucking in an empty classroom next to the lunch tables
HI!
I absolutely loved this idea! I hope you like it!💕
Alone Together - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: After a fight with Ethan, you make it up to him. It unfortunately leads to you being a horny mess until he finally takes care of you.
Contains: Angst-ish?, Oral - m receiving, fingering, semi-public sex acts, spanking, unprotected sex but like...pulling out lmao. (If I missed anything, let me know:)
A/N: Dude I'm so close to 500 followers, and I want to write something HUGE for it once I get there. đŸ„č
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You and Ethan rarely argued, but after something simple turned into the first major fight of the relationship, you felt so awful that it got to the point that it did. It all started after you told Ethan about the boy that sat beside you in class, and mentioned how he asked you for your number to talk about assignments. Ethan thought that was the stupidest excuse to get a girl’s number, but you were a little oblivious and didn’t think there were any other intentions, so you did end up giving the guy your number. Ethan got angrier the more you tried to downplay it, and he even started to question what your intentions were.
Once he’d had enough of the conversation, he stormed out. He needed to calm down, because he was so close to saying things that he didn’t mean. As hurt as he felt, he didn’t want to hurt you.
After Ethan didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day, he showed up to your dorm after his morning class. He was hoping the two of you could talk it out, because he did love you, regardless of how irritated he was.
“Hey,” you said, once you’d opened the door for him. You were trying to fight off your tears as soon as you saw him, so he pulled you into a hug.
“I’m sorry I left yesterday, but I was just so mad,” Ethan said, as his hands ran across your back. “I don’t want anyone else to think they can have you.”
“Do you want to break up?” you asked against his chest, as he chuckled.
“I love you too much to do that,” he sighed, “But I’m not going to lie, it hurt my feelings that you just gave your number out like that. I was starting to think that you wanted him to text you.”
“What?” you asked, pulling away to look at him. “You think I’d want to be with someone else?”
“I never did before yesterday,” he said, “Maybe I’m just a little insecure.”
“And a little possessive,” you mumbled, as he leaned down to kiss you.
You knew that Ethan loved you but seeing him get so mad and upset over someone trying to move in on what was his, it showed you how deep his feelings were for you. The simple kiss quickly turned into something more as his hands roamed your body and his tongue moved across your bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth once his hand moved underneath the skirt you were wearing, his hand massaging your ass as he started to back you towards your bed.
“Wait,” you said, as you pulled away. “We don’t have a lot of time for make-up sex.”
“Fuck, I forgot about lunch,” Ethan groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I’m going to be hard for the rest of the day thinking about you.”
“I think I know something that’ll help you,” you said, as you sank to your knees in front of him.
You rubbed your hand over his jeans, smiling once you felt how hard he was for you. You unbuttoned them and slid them down his hips as his eyes stayed on you.
“Are you sure we have time for this?” he asked, as you giggled to yourself.
“You know it doesn’t take me long to make you cum.”
He groaned at your words as you slid his boxers down, and you grabbed his cock as it stood at attention in front of your face. You looked up at him as you leaned in, taking his pink tip past your lips as you swirled your tongue over it.
“Fuck, baby,” he said, as his hand ran across your cheek to rest in your hair.
You were inching him in your mouth as you started to bob your head, taking more of him every time. He groaned at the feeling as your cheeks hollowed, his hand that was loosely resting in your hair gripping it tighter. Once you got to the point that you were gagging around him, your mouth getting even more wet, he started to praise you. “You make me feel so good.” “That’s it, baby. You can take it.” “Fuck, your mouth is so perfect.”
All the things he was saying to you had your core throbbing, because it turned you on so much to make him feel that good. You moved your hand up and down what you couldn’t take, as he whimpered at the feeling. Your hand moved with your mouth, his entire cock getting the attention it needed as he struggled to keep his fluttering eyes on yours. You didn’t look away, though. You loved seeing him like this. The way his breathing got heavier, the rosy tint to his cheeks, the way his head was starting to roll back.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” he panted, as you hummed around him.
His hand was tugging on your hair, the feeling making you moan around him as his eyes screwed shut, a low moan slipping past his lips as the salty liquid coated your taste buds. You bobbed your head a few more times, a lot slower than you had been going because you didn’t want him to get over stimulated, until you slid him out of your mouth, a sweet smile on your lips as he looked down at you.
“I’m definitely not mad at you anymore,” he said with a smile, as his breathing started to return to normal. “Come here, baby.”
He reached down for you to grab his hands as he helped you to your feet before he pulled you into his chest.
“Now I’m the one that gets to be a horny mess all day,” you said, as he ran his hands over your hips.
“Oh, I’ll take care of you later
you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
Whenever Ethan told you that, he meant it. The idea of him having you in all the positions and him eating it out until you couldn’t take it anymore had your head spinning. You almost wish he hadn’t told you that, because it was all you were going to be able to think about as you tried to make it through the rest of your day.
As you sat at lunch across from Tara and Chad, you were hoping that the conversation would distract you from the not-so-innocent thoughts you were having about your boyfriend.
“Did your boyfriend tell you about what happened to him yesterday?” Chad asked you, as you turned to look at Ethan.
“No
what happened?”
“So he’d just came back from showering, and I came back to our dorm earlier than I was supposed to. He didn’t realize I was there until I said something once he dropped his towel,” Chad said, cracking up as Ethan’s cheeks started to turn bright red. “He fucking screamed, dude. Like, high-pitched and everything.”
You and Tara started to giggle as you thought about it, and it was getting to the point that you couldn’t look at your boyfriend, because you knew you’d only laugh harder.
“Hey, I had a lot going on yesterday. I didn’t expect you to be there,” Ethan said, as Chad wiped a few tears off his cheeks from laughing so hard. He turned to look at you, shaking his head once he noticed how hard you were trying to keep it together. That’s when you felt his hand brush against your thigh before he squeezed it. A strained moan slipped past your lips at the feeling, as he tried to feign innocence. “You okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I accidentally kicked the table,” you lied, trying to play it off as you took a deep breath.
Once Chad and Tara stopped laughing, they brought up the weekend plans that the friend group had been looking forward to. You were trying so hard to be present for that conversation, but once Ethan’s hand inched up further until it was under your skirt, you looked over at him. He met your gaze, and smirked once he noticed your eyes pleading with his. He shook his head before he turned his attention back to Chad, but his hand didn’t stop.
You bit your bottom lip as you felt his hand run over your panties, your eyes going wide as you tried to calm down. Ethan just kept talking, like he had no idea how badly his fingers rubbing over your swollen clit was affecting you.
Once Chad and Tara started to talk about plans that they had for dinner that night, you leaned over to whisper into Ethan’s ear.
“I need more,” you said, as he lightly chuckled. “Please, baby. I’ll be quiet.”
“You promise?” he questioned, as he pushed your panties to the side.
“Yes.”
The way he had his arm angled, it looked like he was just being a sweet boyfriend with his hand resting on your leg. Chad and Tara had no idea that his ring and middle finger were buried inside of you, moving back and forth over that spongy spot inside of your pussy.
You were happy to be getting some of the attention you needed, but it was taking everything in you to keep your breathing steady. Ethan’s pace kept changing, almost like he wanted you to be loud. He’d slow his fingers down, but then he’d start pressing his fingers so hard against that spot that your hands were gripping the sides of the chair.
You felt yourself getting closer, and you knew you couldn’t be quiet, especially after you had to play off a whimper by doubling over like you’d just gotten a bad cramp. You grabbed Ethan’s wrist with both hands, as you tried to get him to stop, but he just kept going. He looked over at you, noticing how fast you were breathing, and how you looked like you could cry from the stimulation. That’s when he realized that he needed to stop, because there was no way you could make it though your orgasm without it being obvious to your friends across the table.
He pulled his fingers out, and once Tara and Chad talked to each other, he looked back over at you and brought the fingers that were covered into your wetness up to his lips. You needed to cum so bad, and once he did that, you were sure you were going to go feral if you didn’t get your orgasm.
“We need to go,” you whispered, as he looked back over to Chad and Tara.
“We’ll leave soon, babe,” he said, as you huffed in frustration.
“If you don’t take me somewhere and fuck me right now, I’m going to go crazy.”
“You need it that bad?” he questioned, looking back at your friends to make sure they were still in their own conversation.
“Please, Ethan.”
“Hey guys, I think we’re going to get out of here,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at the two of you.
“Is everything okay?” Tara asked, once she noticed that you weren’t really saying anything.
“Yeah, it’s just cramps. I’m going to walk with her back to her dorm really quick before class,” he said, as your friends nodded.
Once you and Ethan got up, he took his hand in yours as he led you away from the table.
“We don’t have time to go back to my dorm,” you said, as he started to laugh.
“That’s not where we’re going,” he said, as he led you down the hall to a room that was used for study groups.
“We’re going to fuck in here? There’s no lock on the door,” you huffed, running your hand through your hair as Ethan grabbed a chair and propped it up under the door knob.
“No one’s getting in here,” he said, as he walked over to you. “I’m going to fuck you right here on this table.”
“Are you sure we won’t get caught?” you asked, as he reached under your skirt and grabbed your panties and slid them down your hips.
“That depends on how loud you are.”
Ethan tuned you around and had you bent over the table, your elbows resting against the wood as you waited for him to fuck you. You heard the zipper to his jeans get slid down before you felt him move your skirt, so it was bunched up on your hips.
“This is going to have to be quick, baby. Is that okay?” he asked, as he pushed the tip of his cock in your dripping pussy.
“Mhm,” you moaned at the feeling, as he slid the rest of himself inside you. “Just..don’t get your cum on my clothes.”
“It’s going to go all over this perfect ass of yours.”
He wasted no time before his cock started to thrust in and out of you, soft moans slipping out of your mouth. He was so focused on you, but once he glanced up at the clock on the wall and noticed you had less time than he originally thought, he started to pound into you. The sudden pace change caught you off guard, and you had to time to process it before you started letting out loud moans. The tip of Ethan’s cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, and after his fingers a few minutes before, you knew it wasn’t going to take much for him to make you cum. His hands were gripping your hips as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts, your hands moving to grip the side of the table so you wouldn’t fall off it.
Seeing you like this, and it being in a slightly public setting ignited something in Ethan. He let go of one of your hips to give a sharp smack to your ass, the feeling making you whimper as he soothingly rubbed over it before he did it again.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, “I’m so close.”
His hand went back to your hip as he mercilessly fucked you, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the grip you had on the table got even tighter.
Ethan’s heavy breathing turned to groans once your pussy started to squeeze his cock, and you were bringing him so close to his own orgasm, but he was trying so hard to hold out so he could fuck you through yours. The sounds you were making didn’t make it any easier for him, so he finally pulled out.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, once he looked down at his release all over your ass cheek. “You gotta see this.”
You didn’t say anything as you caught your breath against the table, a sweet smile playing on your lips as he walked around to show you his phone.
“Whoa, that’s hot,” you said, as you looked at the picture of the red handprint that was covered in his cum.
“Yeah,” he said, as he walked over to grab some tissues from the other side of the room. “Did you like doing it in here?”
“Yeah, if you want this to be our new spot for quickies, I’m down.”
“I know we just hooked up, but I still want you to come over tonight. I didn’t have enough time for all the things I wanted to do to you,” he said, as he slid his boxers and jeans back up.
“I’d love to, babe,” you said, smiling at him as you stood up.
“Good, because again, you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I did it again and left it open for a part 2, so if y'all want another part of this where it'll probably consist of nothing but fucking, let me know lmao. It'd definitely be more on the rough side👀
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starkwlkr · 3 months ago
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Hey cutie patootie!! 💗 can you please do SFW alphabet for Wolverine???đŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„č
wolverine sfw alphabet
an: this is my first time doing the sfw alphabet so if it’s bad so sorry!!
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
PDA? Not so much but he’ll sneak in kisses every now and then but privately? This man worships the ground you walk on of course he’s gonna make you feel loved
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?
He cares about you and quite protective (unless you’re Scott)
Very caring and always remembers little details about you
I’m imagining the friendship would start when Scott said something about Logan (damn Scott đŸ€š) and you defended him <3
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Hugh jackman says he’s a big cuddler so it’s canon to me that Logan is too I SAID WHAT I SAID
Obviously he would never admit it to anyone but he LOVES to cuddle
He loves when you lay your head on his chest and he’s stroking your hair
 I’m sobbing I need this man so bad
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Plot twist: Logan 2017 ended differently and it actually ended with you, logan and laura being a family and living in a cute little house away from everyone 😍 someone get marvel on the phone I HAVE AN IDEA
You and Logan have a deal, you cook and he cleans because this man cannot cook to save his life
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would the do it?)
oh!😄
he seems like the type to just pack up his things, leave a note and leave lol idk I’m trying to keep this happy
F = Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to marry?)
He would marry you in a second he loves you too much or you could be like one of those couple that stay together for so many years without getting married because they don’t care đŸ«¶đŸ»
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
LOGAN IS SO GENTLE WITH YOU
I don’t write smut but I read this one fic years ago where he didn’t want to hurt the reader during sex and it had me blushing and kicking my feet 😭
emotionally, he respects your boundaries and listen to what you have to say.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Doesn’t hug anyone but you <3
Old man logan loves them!! (fuck i should’ve done this with old man logan lol maybe in the future)
Currently picturing old man logan coming home from work and you’re like doing the dishes or something and you don’t hear him come in and he hugs you from behind 😭
I = I Love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
again I don’t write smut BUT what if I said that the first time Logan said I love you was either when one of you had a near death experience or your first time having sex
THERE IS NO INBETWEEN
Doesn’t say it right away until y’all fuck or one of you almost dies lol ladies he is the ideal man
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
I’m going to take this opportunity to thank anyone who has ever written jealous logan fics, you are the reason for my happiness and I hope you get everything you e ever wanted <3
This man is protective of you, if he sees some guy in a bar bothering you bitch the claws are coming out
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Logan’s kisses give you much comfort like if you’re stressed because of some stupid shit scott did (đŸ€š) (dw i love scott) he’ll give you kisses <3
He loves kissing your lips obviously but a simple forehead kiss is his go to
old man logan giving you hand kisses!!
And what if I said that logan loves to be kissed on his neck?đŸ€šđŸ€š
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
When Laura comes into your lives, he’s trying to be a good father obviously but before Laura, he ok
Like if we’re talking toddlers then he wouldn’t know how to act around them. Confused 100% when they give him a toy phone
M = Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)
If he wakes up before you then he’ll definitely let you sleep in
He loves a good morning cuddle and kiss.
If neither of you have class to teach in the morning then yes you’ll sleep in but if you do then you’ll wake up earlier than him and do your morning routine
N = Nights (How are nights spent with them?)
movie nights if you aren’t too tired or you’ll just talk about random things in bed and eventually drift off to sleep
You’ve admitted to Logan that his voice helps you fall asleep <3
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait to reveal things?)
So in the beginning of your relationship, logan didn’t open up right away but as time went on he trusted you more and more so you helped him talk about his past
He doesn’t reveal everything all at once more like when you’re in bed or taking a bath together and you’re laying against him and he starts talking about his life
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
By Scott? So easy
it doesn’t take a lot to anger him, but he’s trying to be a calmer person especially if Laura is there
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers everything. He has a good memory when it comes to you. He knows your likes and dislikes, even if you mentioned it like years ago, favorite foods, movies, songs.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
His favorite moment is when you met for the first time. It’s when he also met charles too. He walked into charles’s office and that’s when he saw you, standing next to charles. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but you completely changed his mind.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would the like to be protected?)
Like I mentioned before, he’s protective of you. Hates seeing you get hurt during missions. He knows you can handle it, but still he doesn’t like it.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
I see him actually putting in effort like if he decides to one day have a picnic with you in the schools garden, he’ll ask storm to make sure it doesn’t rain and find the prettiest flowers to give you
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He pushes people away. He has a tendency to do that so he isolates himself. You give him so space then try to work things out
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He isn’t too concerned until he starts looking like old man logan. That’s when he thinks you won’t like how wrinkled and grey he looks but you shower him with love and affection because that’s what he deserves <3
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
You and Laura are his whole world. (now I’m imagining rogue joining the fam and meeting Laura and it’s so cute omg)
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)
He kisses you so much that if you change your chapstick flavor he will notice. Like I imagine you changed it from cherry to coconut and he’ll be talking to storm or charles and you pass by and give him a quick kiss and he’s like “hold upâ˜đŸ»đŸ€šâ€ and kisses you again just to make sure he wasn’t making it up and tells you “you changed the flavor? But Cherry was my favorite😔😒”
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Scott summers
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
Naps after missions are a must
His sleep schedule is totally messed up lol
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